Before I was inspired
Now I'm sad and tired
After all I've tried for three years
Seems like thirty
Why then am I scared?
What I started -- what you started. . .
I didn't start it
God Thy will is hard
But You hold every card
I will drink your cup of poison
Nail me to your cross and break me
Bleed me
Beat me
Kill me
Take me now before I change my mind . . .
I'm starting this post with a take from one of the key sequences from the musical "Jesus Christ Superstar" which I took some time to view during my vacation in Manila.
Well, I have a lot to say about the vacation I'm having right now --- yes, it has been pretty good so far, as these things go, but I feel sad about how I've been at the job before I left for Manila. I've been sort of a train wreck and I'm certain the level of trust the team has in me will be something I have to work on in the coming months.
I don't think it had anything to do with despair - just the natural wearing-out of some good habits and bad habits catching up. But still. I'm not going to go through the exercise of self-flagellation, and since the worst critic I would have would be me, let's just grant that the allegation is warranted and I have to do better. Does it solve what I put others through? No, definitely not. Of course, if things cannot be fixed there's always room to start over. I do hope so.
I didn't start this whole episode as a professional in the Middle East --- the path the Lord laid out took me there --- so I should take no pride in what I have accomplished, for in truth, I have accomplished little on my own. That's not to say I was just waffling about, but that I owe a lot to what others have made possible. And going forward means taking the necessary steps, accepting more responsibility and having a stronger sense of self-regulation. It is, literally, the cup I must drink from, and if I must bleed and suffer from it (naturally I hope not), then it must be done.
I pray nothing would make me waver from this resolution.
Posts on vacation happenings later --- we haven't got a reliable connection yet and I'm just getting used to the new PC.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Monday, June 11, 2007
In the West
Jeddah presents a quandary now as I sit in the dark typing this post.
Finally, there is a decent wi-fi connection in the hotel! I'm just unloading some of my personal e-mails, reading up on the NBA Finals (a semi-foregone conclusion for the Spurs) and while on the subject of sports, hatching some conspiracy theories whether Roger Federer can actually defeat Rafael Nadal in big-time clay matches.
The briefings yesterday were well-attended. Frankly, I believe I've mastered the shtick necessary to make the briefings work, even though there are the proverbial complainers who still complain about the lack of management objectivity when it comes to salary increments.
Salary increases are a very sensitive issue in a multi-cultural organization especially if there are cleavages among the salary scales. Much as intellectually I could accept the premise that this has to be done for the kind of business that we have, this doesn't remove the difficulty of making the ordinary employee on the front-line or in the factory understand, much less accept, this. There is also the added the burden that aside from the own unique management styles of the leadership in each department, there is also the perceived regional, cultural, ethnic, or national bias.
This is, after all, Saudi Arabia. However, it begs the issue: this involves, after all, people! Petty prejudices often overrule what constitutes common sense or decency. This becomes more marked when these prejudices find some form of intellectual justification.
Trouble is brewing in Jeddah. Our people here are getting more restive, while their management (whom I find well-meaning but a little too hard-pressed it seems) is faced with hard decisions. I truly empathize with either side, but at this point some confidence-building is due. As to how our team can help with this, I cannot say. Talks are ongoing.
I'm headed to Dammam today and while I welcome coming over here (for the first time as with Riyadh), it seems a relief to get back to the normal grind.
Finally, there is a decent wi-fi connection in the hotel! I'm just unloading some of my personal e-mails, reading up on the NBA Finals (a semi-foregone conclusion for the Spurs) and while on the subject of sports, hatching some conspiracy theories whether Roger Federer can actually defeat Rafael Nadal in big-time clay matches.
The briefings yesterday were well-attended. Frankly, I believe I've mastered the shtick necessary to make the briefings work, even though there are the proverbial complainers who still complain about the lack of management objectivity when it comes to salary increments.
Salary increases are a very sensitive issue in a multi-cultural organization especially if there are cleavages among the salary scales. Much as intellectually I could accept the premise that this has to be done for the kind of business that we have, this doesn't remove the difficulty of making the ordinary employee on the front-line or in the factory understand, much less accept, this. There is also the added the burden that aside from the own unique management styles of the leadership in each department, there is also the perceived regional, cultural, ethnic, or national bias.
This is, after all, Saudi Arabia. However, it begs the issue: this involves, after all, people! Petty prejudices often overrule what constitutes common sense or decency. This becomes more marked when these prejudices find some form of intellectual justification.
Trouble is brewing in Jeddah. Our people here are getting more restive, while their management (whom I find well-meaning but a little too hard-pressed it seems) is faced with hard decisions. I truly empathize with either side, but at this point some confidence-building is due. As to how our team can help with this, I cannot say. Talks are ongoing.
I'm headed to Dammam today and while I welcome coming over here (for the first time as with Riyadh), it seems a relief to get back to the normal grind.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
In Riyadh
I'm writing this post from Riyadh still frustrated over not having a quality wi-fi connection in the hotel. Well, there's only so much you can get with a budget hotel. In a few minutes I'll be leaving for the airport for a flight to Jeddah in the western portion of the country.
Riyadh is a sprawling city, and I don't have the figures for its population, but I would guess it would hover around the one million range (I'll find out later). This was an army of tents during the early days but it has always been the center of the caravan trade in the Arabian desert.
Looking at the buildings already here and the slew of construction of commercial and residential buildings I can surmise there are a lot more headaches in development to go --- Riyadh residents do complain of traffic, though this has nothing on say, Manila, going by my experience.
My colleagues and I are on company briefings for our operatives in these cities (they are going to still another city --- the western industrial complex of Yanbu - but I can't join them as I still have to finish up some work prior to my vacation).
In the earlier days, I used to view HR with a lot of suspicion when it came to these briefings. I do understand their predicament coming from my experiences as a volunteer facilitator and trainer, but it wasn't very hard to distrust the speakers. I suppose it came with the territory --- until these days, dynamic corporate HR is a thrall to shrinking budgets and business focus on operational requirements. Listening to the HR line is a long exercise in apologia.
Naturally, there is that sense of irony that creeps upon me as I do these briefings, speaking as an agent of the Company and trying my best to convey the best of our intentions to our employees. On the one hand, there is that part of me which remains angry and cynical as regards the gap between Company intent and actual practice. This has always been ensconced in my compassion that better things should happen for the people who work the hardest for the Company.
On the other hand, there is this struggle to communicate to our own people that the Company really does have their best interests at heart, but there are so many constraints - by force of habit and attitude as well as the very obvious financial ones. However, it seems churlish for me to take this paternalistic attitude --- it's as if I'm patronizing my own people. I'd rather be a realist and tell them how it is --- all the while upholding the interest of the Company since it's part of my job. It's not that simple as it sounds, though one wonders why it seems so difficult.
Mostly, it's a struggle with my ideal that people are the best arbiters of their destiny and given ample opportunities, would be able to sort things out by themselves. But that is of course wishful thinking --- so many times, one can trust people but not the circumstances and conditions under which they interact with the Company. It also comes with how people do business in this part of the world.
It would hardly denigrate the success of our session yesterday --- to use that worn-out cliche, sometimes, people just need to talk to someone, and all that someone must do is convey as much trustworthiness as possible.
I hope I've succeeded.
(Note: I'm date-lining this the 10th even though I just got to post this as I am waiting for my airport pick-up here in my hotel in Jeddah.)
Riyadh is a sprawling city, and I don't have the figures for its population, but I would guess it would hover around the one million range (I'll find out later). This was an army of tents during the early days but it has always been the center of the caravan trade in the Arabian desert.
Looking at the buildings already here and the slew of construction of commercial and residential buildings I can surmise there are a lot more headaches in development to go --- Riyadh residents do complain of traffic, though this has nothing on say, Manila, going by my experience.
My colleagues and I are on company briefings for our operatives in these cities (they are going to still another city --- the western industrial complex of Yanbu - but I can't join them as I still have to finish up some work prior to my vacation).
In the earlier days, I used to view HR with a lot of suspicion when it came to these briefings. I do understand their predicament coming from my experiences as a volunteer facilitator and trainer, but it wasn't very hard to distrust the speakers. I suppose it came with the territory --- until these days, dynamic corporate HR is a thrall to shrinking budgets and business focus on operational requirements. Listening to the HR line is a long exercise in apologia.
Naturally, there is that sense of irony that creeps upon me as I do these briefings, speaking as an agent of the Company and trying my best to convey the best of our intentions to our employees. On the one hand, there is that part of me which remains angry and cynical as regards the gap between Company intent and actual practice. This has always been ensconced in my compassion that better things should happen for the people who work the hardest for the Company.
On the other hand, there is this struggle to communicate to our own people that the Company really does have their best interests at heart, but there are so many constraints - by force of habit and attitude as well as the very obvious financial ones. However, it seems churlish for me to take this paternalistic attitude --- it's as if I'm patronizing my own people. I'd rather be a realist and tell them how it is --- all the while upholding the interest of the Company since it's part of my job. It's not that simple as it sounds, though one wonders why it seems so difficult.
Mostly, it's a struggle with my ideal that people are the best arbiters of their destiny and given ample opportunities, would be able to sort things out by themselves. But that is of course wishful thinking --- so many times, one can trust people but not the circumstances and conditions under which they interact with the Company. It also comes with how people do business in this part of the world.
It would hardly denigrate the success of our session yesterday --- to use that worn-out cliche, sometimes, people just need to talk to someone, and all that someone must do is convey as much trustworthiness as possible.
I hope I've succeeded.
(Note: I'm date-lining this the 10th even though I just got to post this as I am waiting for my airport pick-up here in my hotel in Jeddah.)
Saturday, June 02, 2007
Venturing on Tougher Seas
I paused a while to reflect on the meaning of my stay here. To be frank, I'm having a mini-crisis of confidence in the job right about now. There are many reasons for this, but mainly I believe it's being weighed down with too much too soon. I haven't been the most proactive of people in the past few weeks, and I deserve every kind of flak for my performance.
I'm pasting a translation of a prayer my spiritual mentors introduced to me so many years back. I think it's from Methodist minister Ted Loder, but I haven't time to verify this.
I'll be sailing into rougher seas, but with His help, perhaps I'll get by.
GAMBALAIN MO KAMI, PANGINOON
Gambalain mo kami, Panginoon,
kapag labis kaming natutuwa sa aming sarili;
kapag natupad ang aming inaasam
sapagka't ang aming inadhika'y kulang;
kapag kami'y ligtas na nakarating
sapagka't naglakbay kami nang kay lapit sa dalampasigan.
Gambalain mo kami, Panginoon,
kapag sa kasaganaan ng aming ari-arian
hindi na namin taglay ang pagkauhaw para sa tubig ng buhay;
kapag sa pagkahumaling namin sa Panahon
tinalikdan namin ang paghahangad para sa Walang Hanggan;
at kapag sa aming pagpunyagi sa pagpapaunlad ng mundo
pinabayaan naming manimdim ang aming pangitain para sa Bagong Kalangitan.
Hikayatin mo kami, Panginoon, na humakbang nang buong tapang,
na maglakbay sa laot, kung saan ipinapakita ng bagyo ang Iyong kapangyarihan,
kung saan kapag nawala sa aming paningin ang lupa matatagpuan namin ang mga bituin.
Sa Ngalan Niyang nagpalawak sa hangganan ng aming pangarap
at nag-anyaya sa may lakas ng loob na sumunod sa Kanya.
Amen.
I'm pasting a translation of a prayer my spiritual mentors introduced to me so many years back. I think it's from Methodist minister Ted Loder, but I haven't time to verify this.
I'll be sailing into rougher seas, but with His help, perhaps I'll get by.
GAMBALAIN MO KAMI, PANGINOON
Gambalain mo kami, Panginoon,
kapag labis kaming natutuwa sa aming sarili;
kapag natupad ang aming inaasam
sapagka't ang aming inadhika'y kulang;
kapag kami'y ligtas na nakarating
sapagka't naglakbay kami nang kay lapit sa dalampasigan.
Gambalain mo kami, Panginoon,
kapag sa kasaganaan ng aming ari-arian
hindi na namin taglay ang pagkauhaw para sa tubig ng buhay;
kapag sa pagkahumaling namin sa Panahon
tinalikdan namin ang paghahangad para sa Walang Hanggan;
at kapag sa aming pagpunyagi sa pagpapaunlad ng mundo
pinabayaan naming manimdim ang aming pangitain para sa Bagong Kalangitan.
Hikayatin mo kami, Panginoon, na humakbang nang buong tapang,
na maglakbay sa laot, kung saan ipinapakita ng bagyo ang Iyong kapangyarihan,
kung saan kapag nawala sa aming paningin ang lupa matatagpuan namin ang mga bituin.
Sa Ngalan Niyang nagpalawak sa hangganan ng aming pangarap
at nag-anyaya sa may lakas ng loob na sumunod sa Kanya.
Amen.
Friday, June 01, 2007
Lifting Off from the Tarmac of Dubai
I spent the last workweek in Dubai on training for the Company. Some thoughts...
You know you look your age when the girl you think you're hitting on replies to each of your sallies with "po" or "opo." Downright deflating...
You know you're old and that your window of opportunity is quickly closing when even girls who would seem desperate for your company assume that you're married.
You know you're getting long in the tooth when the random stranger asks "how are your kids?"
You know you're getting old when your mind does a double-take when you're ogling sexually precocious sixteen-year old hotties. (It's jail for you, grandpa!)
As you can probably divine, the week didn't go off all that well. Catching up with friends and family in Dubai is great but aside from that, getting one's ego squished feels just as bad as it sounds. I wasn't really that kind of fellow girls would cheat on their signifcant others for, but even so, a little thrill would have helped.
I'm glad I'm bound for Manila and getting to try all over again. But nah, all you have to do is wave some cash around and some poor git will probably bite.
That, I think, is probably even more depressing.
I saved a girl from being attacked last night --- I controlled myself.
Rodney Dangerfield
You know you look your age when the girl you think you're hitting on replies to each of your sallies with "po" or "opo." Downright deflating...
You know you're old and that your window of opportunity is quickly closing when even girls who would seem desperate for your company assume that you're married.
You know you're getting long in the tooth when the random stranger asks "how are your kids?"
You know you're getting old when your mind does a double-take when you're ogling sexually precocious sixteen-year old hotties. (It's jail for you, grandpa!)
As you can probably divine, the week didn't go off all that well. Catching up with friends and family in Dubai is great but aside from that, getting one's ego squished feels just as bad as it sounds. I wasn't really that kind of fellow girls would cheat on their signifcant others for, but even so, a little thrill would have helped.
I'm glad I'm bound for Manila and getting to try all over again. But nah, all you have to do is wave some cash around and some poor git will probably bite.
That, I think, is probably even more depressing.
I saved a girl from being attacked last night --- I controlled myself.
Rodney Dangerfield
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Learn New Tricks, Old Dogs...
Two axiomatic observations about the conduct of the Philippine elections from the master Niccolo Machiavelli:
"Whosoever desires constant success must change his conduct with the times."
"The one who adapts his policy to the times prospers, and likewise that the one whose policy clashes with the demands of the times does not."
"Whosoever desires constant success must change his conduct with the times."
"The one who adapts his policy to the times prospers, and likewise that the one whose policy clashes with the demands of the times does not."
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Origin
Well, it's nice to have an alternative origin for my name - because there's so much history that has come and gone with my name.
That's one part of the tinkering --- the other is pretend I am some psychedelic message contained in a Beatles song. Works for me, too.
I Am The Walrus
(Lennon-McCartney / The Beatles)
I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together
See how they run like pigs from a gun, see how they fly
I'm crying
Sitting on a cornflake, waiting for the van to come
Corporation tee-shirt, stupid bloody Tuesday
Man, you been a naughty boy, you let your face grow long
I am the eggman, they are the eggmen
I am the walrus, goo goo g'joob
Mister City Policeman sitting pretty little policemen in a row
See how they fly like Lucy in the sky, see how they run
I'm crying, I'm crying
I'm crying, I'm crying
Yellow matter custard, dripping from a dead dog's eye
Crabalocker fishwife, pornographic priestess,
Boy, you been a naughty girl you let your knickers down
I am the eggman, they are the eggmen
I am the walrus, goo goo g'joob
Sitting in an English garden waiting for the sun
If the sun don't come, you get a tan
From standing in the English rain
I am the eggman, they are the eggmen
I am the walrus, goo goo g'joob, g'goo goo g'joob
Expert textpert choking smokers,
Don't you think the joker laughs at you?
See how they smile like pigs in a sty,
See how they snied.
I'm crying.
Semolina pilchard, climbing up the Eiffel Tower
Elementary penguin singing Hari Krishna
Man, you should have seen them kicking Edgar Allan Poe
I am the eggman, they are the eggmen
I am the walrus, goo goo g'joob, g'goo goo g'joob.
Goo goo g'joob, g'goo goo g'joob, g'goo.
That's one part of the tinkering --- the other is pretend I am some psychedelic message contained in a Beatles song. Works for me, too.
I Am The Walrus
(Lennon-McCartney / The Beatles)
I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together
See how they run like pigs from a gun, see how they fly
I'm crying
Sitting on a cornflake, waiting for the van to come
Corporation tee-shirt, stupid bloody Tuesday
Man, you been a naughty boy, you let your face grow long
I am the eggman, they are the eggmen
I am the walrus, goo goo g'joob
Mister City Policeman sitting pretty little policemen in a row
See how they fly like Lucy in the sky, see how they run
I'm crying, I'm crying
I'm crying, I'm crying
Yellow matter custard, dripping from a dead dog's eye
Crabalocker fishwife, pornographic priestess,
Boy, you been a naughty girl you let your knickers down
I am the eggman, they are the eggmen
I am the walrus, goo goo g'joob
Sitting in an English garden waiting for the sun
If the sun don't come, you get a tan
From standing in the English rain
I am the eggman, they are the eggmen
I am the walrus, goo goo g'joob, g'goo goo g'joob
Expert textpert choking smokers,
Don't you think the joker laughs at you?
See how they smile like pigs in a sty,
See how they snied.
I'm crying.
Semolina pilchard, climbing up the Eiffel Tower
Elementary penguin singing Hari Krishna
Man, you should have seen them kicking Edgar Allan Poe
I am the eggman, they are the eggmen
I am the walrus, goo goo g'joob, g'goo goo g'joob.
Goo goo g'joob, g'goo goo g'joob, g'goo.
The Magic Feather
The happiness of a man in this life does not consist in the absence but in the mastery of his passions.
-- Alfred Lord Tennyson
Our Division contest came and went just about last month. This isn't much, but I'm rather proud of how this speech went. There are some inaccuracies that some people might spot, but it's a rather good speech, I think. I'll come back next year with a better performance.
The Magic Feather
I hold in my hands a magic feather. Do you see it wave like this? I can even throw it in the air, I will spin, and then catch it. See?
Mr. Contest Chair, fellow Toastmasters, distinguished panel of judges and guests, good morning.
I picked up my magic feather habit from one of my favorite animated movies of all time, Walt Disney's Dumbo. (Well, I confess, I still love watching cartoons to this day.)
Now, Dumbo was an elephant, who happened not only to be undersized, but he also had a huge pair of ears. He was ridiculed by all his fellow circus elephants except his mother.
Little did they know that Dumbo could fly. However, he had a teensy-weensy problem: he didn't believe he can. He lacked the faith that he could do something which no other elephant could. To help Dumbo out his little friend Timothy Mouse gave him a feather, which had nothing special about it except this: it gave Dumbo the belief to fly.
All throughout the next few weeks, Dumbo trained with the feather. He started with small heights and later worked on going higher and higher.
Then came the big day when Dumbo was featured as the main attraction in the main ring of the circus. He was raised on the platform more than thirty feet from the ground. On his way up, he was brimming with confidence. Then something disastrous happened - he lost his feather! What was he to do?
He stared down, looking at the ground, looking at the audience, his knees shaking like a tree dropping leaves. His friend Tim spoke to him and told him he didn't need the magic feather. Along the way, something wonderful and magical happened. Dumbo started to believe. He started flapping one ear, and then the other. He took one step, and then another, and finally he fell off the platform!
At twenty feet from the ground he was flapping, and he was falling! Ten feet, he was flapping, and he was falling! At five feet his ears picked up the pace and he zoomed upward, to the delight of the crowd!
There's a little Dumbo in every one of us. We have the little fear inside us that only needs a little push, perhaps a magic feather to start us on the road to greatness.
What do you fear? --- What do you fear? ---- What do you fear? Our fears may be of failure, of ridicule, of loss, of death.
You and I all share one thing: that we fear the uncertainty of the future.
My magic feather moment came when I was selected to run for grade school president. I dreaded the experience because it exposed my one great fear: facing people in public. I stuttered and couldn't complete two straight sentences. I ate my words. We went class-to-class talking to the students, and I found it hateful. The last day of campaigning - the miting de avance - came, and all three of the parties had to speak before the entire school. My leading opponent was a natural-born speaker, while I quailed at the thought of doing my speech.
In those moments, what I remembered were my parents' encouragement and their assurance that they loved me. So I took a few steps forward, slowly ascended the podium, and delivered my speech.
It was horrible, and I lost by a huge margin, but the experience stayed with me that I worked harder on my public speaking skills. I became a trainer and a teacher.
All of us fear. Nelson Mandela once quoted poet Marianne Williamson, “our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate, but that we are powerful beyond measure. So we might ask ourselves, who are we to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? My question is, who are you not to be?”
Ladies and gentlemen, there is a light that shines within us that is yearning to break out. When we share this light with others, we give them permission to overcome their fear. We give them magic feathers of confidence to acknowledge the beauty in their lives.
When we liberate ourselves from our fear, we automatically liberate others.
I present you your own magic feather!
If you are not criticized, you may not be doing much.
-- Donald H. Rumsfeld
-- Alfred Lord Tennyson
Our Division contest came and went just about last month. This isn't much, but I'm rather proud of how this speech went. There are some inaccuracies that some people might spot, but it's a rather good speech, I think. I'll come back next year with a better performance.
The Magic Feather
I hold in my hands a magic feather. Do you see it wave like this? I can even throw it in the air, I will spin, and then catch it. See?
Mr. Contest Chair, fellow Toastmasters, distinguished panel of judges and guests, good morning.
I picked up my magic feather habit from one of my favorite animated movies of all time, Walt Disney's Dumbo. (Well, I confess, I still love watching cartoons to this day.)
Now, Dumbo was an elephant, who happened not only to be undersized, but he also had a huge pair of ears. He was ridiculed by all his fellow circus elephants except his mother.
Little did they know that Dumbo could fly. However, he had a teensy-weensy problem: he didn't believe he can. He lacked the faith that he could do something which no other elephant could. To help Dumbo out his little friend Timothy Mouse gave him a feather, which had nothing special about it except this: it gave Dumbo the belief to fly.
All throughout the next few weeks, Dumbo trained with the feather. He started with small heights and later worked on going higher and higher.
Then came the big day when Dumbo was featured as the main attraction in the main ring of the circus. He was raised on the platform more than thirty feet from the ground. On his way up, he was brimming with confidence. Then something disastrous happened - he lost his feather! What was he to do?
He stared down, looking at the ground, looking at the audience, his knees shaking like a tree dropping leaves. His friend Tim spoke to him and told him he didn't need the magic feather. Along the way, something wonderful and magical happened. Dumbo started to believe. He started flapping one ear, and then the other. He took one step, and then another, and finally he fell off the platform!
At twenty feet from the ground he was flapping, and he was falling! Ten feet, he was flapping, and he was falling! At five feet his ears picked up the pace and he zoomed upward, to the delight of the crowd!
There's a little Dumbo in every one of us. We have the little fear inside us that only needs a little push, perhaps a magic feather to start us on the road to greatness.
What do you fear? --- What do you fear? ---- What do you fear? Our fears may be of failure, of ridicule, of loss, of death.
You and I all share one thing: that we fear the uncertainty of the future.
My magic feather moment came when I was selected to run for grade school president. I dreaded the experience because it exposed my one great fear: facing people in public. I stuttered and couldn't complete two straight sentences. I ate my words. We went class-to-class talking to the students, and I found it hateful. The last day of campaigning - the miting de avance - came, and all three of the parties had to speak before the entire school. My leading opponent was a natural-born speaker, while I quailed at the thought of doing my speech.
In those moments, what I remembered were my parents' encouragement and their assurance that they loved me. So I took a few steps forward, slowly ascended the podium, and delivered my speech.
It was horrible, and I lost by a huge margin, but the experience stayed with me that I worked harder on my public speaking skills. I became a trainer and a teacher.
All of us fear. Nelson Mandela once quoted poet Marianne Williamson, “our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate, but that we are powerful beyond measure. So we might ask ourselves, who are we to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? My question is, who are you not to be?”
Ladies and gentlemen, there is a light that shines within us that is yearning to break out. When we share this light with others, we give them permission to overcome their fear. We give them magic feathers of confidence to acknowledge the beauty in their lives.
When we liberate ourselves from our fear, we automatically liberate others.
I present you your own magic feather!
If you are not criticized, you may not be doing much.
-- Donald H. Rumsfeld
Monday, April 30, 2007
Some Days It Pays to Be A Geek
Well, I've always been called a geek. I have a number of theories why people don't like geeks, starting with that quote by Hermann Hesse in "Demian" where he says people hate the things which make them hate what's within them, i.e. no one wants to stand out and look like they don't belong.
And why is that? Maybe because people are just, well, plain dumb and don't like to called smart. (I know I'll get shot down for this, but hey, whatever you say, the same goes for you!)
For those who think they're special, here's some hot stuff for you:
The 10 Real Reasons Why Geeks Make Better Lovers
Eat s**t and die!
************
I filched this quiz from Diane's blog.
And why is that? Maybe because people are just, well, plain dumb and don't like to called smart. (I know I'll get shot down for this, but hey, whatever you say, the same goes for you!)
For those who think they're special, here's some hot stuff for you:
The 10 Real Reasons Why Geeks Make Better Lovers
Eat s**t and die!
************
I filched this quiz from Diane's blog.
You're Watership Down by Richard Adams
Though many think of you as a bit young, even childish, you're actually incredibly deep and complex.
You show people the need to rethink their assumptions, and confront them on everything from how they think to where they build their houses.
You might be one of the greatest people of all time. You'd be recognized as such if you weren't always talking about talking rabbits.
Take the Book Quiz at the Blue Pyramid.
Fallen Heroes
I spent some part of the late evening Saturday and early morning yesterday to read up on "Huling Gabi sa Maragondon," Rene Villanueva's Palanca Award-winning one-act play way back in the early '80s. In the piece, Gregoria Bonifacio begs for the life of her husband Andres, condemned to death along with his brother by the Revolutionary Government's military court.
I had no real reason to read the play except that I was thinking of staging it for the benefit of the community here. The material is written in an archaic Tagalog of an older time, a Tagalog you hardly hear or read these days, what with the obscenity of mass media mangling the Filipino language. I have my doubts about how people would react to this piece, but I have hopes as well.
History has not been kind to Emilio Aguinaldo. On the one hand, he had the privilege of being the Philippines' first President, though the ink on Andres Bonifacio's execution was less than seven months old when he sold out at the Pact of Biak-na-Bato, thus beginning his exile. He did, of course, regroup his forces and declared independence for the Republic.
History has even been worse to Bonifacio. He was always painted as a doting follower of Rizal rather than someone capable of independent thought, and later on the revolution of the masses he started was hijacked by the bourgeoisie. That internal struggle cost the Revolution precious ground through the outbreak of the war and later would claim Bonifacio's life. He even lost his billing on the five-peso denomination and has to share a sidelight with Mabini.
An interesting sidelight here: despite all our pulling for the underdog, in reality Filipinos have tended to follow the safe, established, conformist path. How many heroes have fallen that we were not aware of? Even more, what kind of valuing do we have that makes heroes of people who run out of their country --- and worse, keep on coddling the people who drive these people away from the country?
Case in point --- name any common Filipino family from the middle class whose aspirations for financial security are dependent on one of the daughters or sons going abroad. Second case in point --- how many times have we heard the government, particularly this administration, crow about the "success" of the Philippines because we remain a viable source of cheap labor?
For this mid-term election, how little, indeed, have we heard that the need for change starts from acknowledging that we must. How little, indeed, has been our capability to perceive beyond the convenient images being churned out by the candidates' PR machines.
I must confess that I am rather cynical about the youth of today, they of the high-powered electronics and Portable Play Stations and iPods. I do pray that they remember the smattering of blood of all those common people who cared for more than comfort, whose love for freedom and their countrymen have led them to sacrifice their lives. In particular I am the product of those who weathered the privation of the Pacific War, and my life has been nowhere near as scarred as their entire generation was.
The best we can do is honor their memory and challenge ourselves to make sure their legacy lives on in the transformation of our society.
PAG-IBIG SA TINUBUANG LUPA ni Andres Bonifacio
Aling pag-ibig pa ang hihigit kaya
sa pagkadalisay at magkadakila
Gaya ng pag-ibig sa sariling lupa?
Aling pag-ibig pa? Wala na nga, wala.
Pagpupuring lubos ang palaging hangad
Sa bayan ng taong may dangal na ingat,
Umawit, tumula, kumata't at sumulat,
Kalakhan din niya'y isinisiwalat.
Walang mahalagang hindi inihandog
Ng may pusong mahal sa Bayang nagkupkop,
dugo, yaman, dunong, katiisa't pagod,
Buhay ma'y abuting magkalagut-lagot.
Bakit? Alin ito na sakdal ng laki,
Na hinahandugan ng busong pagkasi,
Na sa lalong mahal nakapangyayari,
At ginugulan ng buhay na iwi?
Ay! Ito'y ang iang bayang tinubuan:
Siya'y iona't tangi sa kinamulatan
Ng kawili-wiling liwanang ng araw
Na nagbigay-init sa buong katawan.
Kalakip din nito'y pag-ibig sa Bayan,
Ang lahat ng lalong sa gunita'y mahal,
Mula sa masaya'y gasong kasanggulan
Hanggang sa katawa'y mapasa-libingan.
Sa aba ng abang mawalay sa bayan!
Gunita ma'y laging sakbibi ng lumbay,
Walang alaala't inaasa-asam
Kundi ang makita'y lupang tinubuan.
Pati ng magdusa'y sampung kamatayan
Wari ay masarap kung dahil sa bayan
At lalong mahirap. Oh, himalang bagay!
Lalong pag-irog pa ang sa kanya'y alay.
Kung ang bayang ito'y masasa-panganib
At siya ay dapat na ipagtangkilik,
Ang anak, asawa, magulang, kapatid;
Isang tawag niya'y tatalidang pilit.
Hayo na nga, hayo, kayong nagabuhay
Sa pag-asang lubos ng kaginhawahan
At walang tinamo kundi kapaitan,
Hayo na't ibangon ang naabang bayan!
Kayong nalagasan ng bunga't bulaklak
Ng kaho'y ng buhay na nilanta't sukat,
Ng bala-balaki't makapal na hirap,
muling manariaw't sa baya'y lumiyag.
Ipahandug-handog ang busong pag-ibig
At hanggang may dugo'y ubusing itigis;
kung sa pagtatanggol, buhay ay mapatid,
Ito'y kapalaran at tunay na langit!
I had no real reason to read the play except that I was thinking of staging it for the benefit of the community here. The material is written in an archaic Tagalog of an older time, a Tagalog you hardly hear or read these days, what with the obscenity of mass media mangling the Filipino language. I have my doubts about how people would react to this piece, but I have hopes as well.
History has not been kind to Emilio Aguinaldo. On the one hand, he had the privilege of being the Philippines' first President, though the ink on Andres Bonifacio's execution was less than seven months old when he sold out at the Pact of Biak-na-Bato, thus beginning his exile. He did, of course, regroup his forces and declared independence for the Republic.
History has even been worse to Bonifacio. He was always painted as a doting follower of Rizal rather than someone capable of independent thought, and later on the revolution of the masses he started was hijacked by the bourgeoisie. That internal struggle cost the Revolution precious ground through the outbreak of the war and later would claim Bonifacio's life. He even lost his billing on the five-peso denomination and has to share a sidelight with Mabini.
An interesting sidelight here: despite all our pulling for the underdog, in reality Filipinos have tended to follow the safe, established, conformist path. How many heroes have fallen that we were not aware of? Even more, what kind of valuing do we have that makes heroes of people who run out of their country --- and worse, keep on coddling the people who drive these people away from the country?
Case in point --- name any common Filipino family from the middle class whose aspirations for financial security are dependent on one of the daughters or sons going abroad. Second case in point --- how many times have we heard the government, particularly this administration, crow about the "success" of the Philippines because we remain a viable source of cheap labor?
For this mid-term election, how little, indeed, have we heard that the need for change starts from acknowledging that we must. How little, indeed, has been our capability to perceive beyond the convenient images being churned out by the candidates' PR machines.
I must confess that I am rather cynical about the youth of today, they of the high-powered electronics and Portable Play Stations and iPods. I do pray that they remember the smattering of blood of all those common people who cared for more than comfort, whose love for freedom and their countrymen have led them to sacrifice their lives. In particular I am the product of those who weathered the privation of the Pacific War, and my life has been nowhere near as scarred as their entire generation was.
The best we can do is honor their memory and challenge ourselves to make sure their legacy lives on in the transformation of our society.
PAG-IBIG SA TINUBUANG LUPA ni Andres Bonifacio
Aling pag-ibig pa ang hihigit kaya
sa pagkadalisay at magkadakila
Gaya ng pag-ibig sa sariling lupa?
Aling pag-ibig pa? Wala na nga, wala.
Pagpupuring lubos ang palaging hangad
Sa bayan ng taong may dangal na ingat,
Umawit, tumula, kumata't at sumulat,
Kalakhan din niya'y isinisiwalat.
Walang mahalagang hindi inihandog
Ng may pusong mahal sa Bayang nagkupkop,
dugo, yaman, dunong, katiisa't pagod,
Buhay ma'y abuting magkalagut-lagot.
Bakit? Alin ito na sakdal ng laki,
Na hinahandugan ng busong pagkasi,
Na sa lalong mahal nakapangyayari,
At ginugulan ng buhay na iwi?
Ay! Ito'y ang iang bayang tinubuan:
Siya'y iona't tangi sa kinamulatan
Ng kawili-wiling liwanang ng araw
Na nagbigay-init sa buong katawan.
Kalakip din nito'y pag-ibig sa Bayan,
Ang lahat ng lalong sa gunita'y mahal,
Mula sa masaya'y gasong kasanggulan
Hanggang sa katawa'y mapasa-libingan.
Sa aba ng abang mawalay sa bayan!
Gunita ma'y laging sakbibi ng lumbay,
Walang alaala't inaasa-asam
Kundi ang makita'y lupang tinubuan.
Pati ng magdusa'y sampung kamatayan
Wari ay masarap kung dahil sa bayan
At lalong mahirap. Oh, himalang bagay!
Lalong pag-irog pa ang sa kanya'y alay.
Kung ang bayang ito'y masasa-panganib
At siya ay dapat na ipagtangkilik,
Ang anak, asawa, magulang, kapatid;
Isang tawag niya'y tatalidang pilit.
Hayo na nga, hayo, kayong nagabuhay
Sa pag-asang lubos ng kaginhawahan
At walang tinamo kundi kapaitan,
Hayo na't ibangon ang naabang bayan!
Kayong nalagasan ng bunga't bulaklak
Ng kaho'y ng buhay na nilanta't sukat,
Ng bala-balaki't makapal na hirap,
muling manariaw't sa baya'y lumiyag.
Ipahandug-handog ang busong pag-ibig
At hanggang may dugo'y ubusing itigis;
kung sa pagtatanggol, buhay ay mapatid,
Ito'y kapalaran at tunay na langit!
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Talking It Up A Little
I've missed blogging on this space for some time now. I needed some time to assess where exactly should I be going with what I'm doing.
Naturally some events have been overtaken during the time I was away from my blog, and for the faithful (and few) who continue to read on, I would like to beg your apologies. There are no metaphysical reasons why I missed blogging, I just felt I could express myself better elsewhere.
Or maybe it is because I have found some measure of peace?
The poet Kahlil Gibran sums it all ---
On Talking
And then a scholar said, "Speak of Talking."
And he (Almustafa the Prophet) answered, saying:
You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts;
And when you can no longer dwell in the solitude of your heart you live in your lips, and sound is a diversion and a pastime.
And in much of your talking, thinking is half murdered. For thought is a bird of space, that in a cage of words many indeed unfold its wings but cannot fly.
There are those among you who seek the talkative through fear of being alone. The silence of aloneness reveals to their eyes their naked selves and they would escape.
And there are those who talk, and without knowledge or forethought reveal a truth which they themselves do not understand.
And there are those who have the truth within them, but they tell it not in words. In the bosom of such as these the spirit dwells in rhythmic silence.
When you meet your friend on the roadside or in the market place, let the spirit in you move your lips and direct your tongue.
Let the voice within your voice speak to the ear of his ear;
For his soul will keep the truth of your heart as the taste of the wine is remembered
When the colour is forgotten and the vessel is no more.
Naturally some events have been overtaken during the time I was away from my blog, and for the faithful (and few) who continue to read on, I would like to beg your apologies. There are no metaphysical reasons why I missed blogging, I just felt I could express myself better elsewhere.
Or maybe it is because I have found some measure of peace?
The poet Kahlil Gibran sums it all ---
On Talking
And then a scholar said, "Speak of Talking."
And he (Almustafa the Prophet) answered, saying:
You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts;
And when you can no longer dwell in the solitude of your heart you live in your lips, and sound is a diversion and a pastime.
And in much of your talking, thinking is half murdered. For thought is a bird of space, that in a cage of words many indeed unfold its wings but cannot fly.
There are those among you who seek the talkative through fear of being alone. The silence of aloneness reveals to their eyes their naked selves and they would escape.
And there are those who talk, and without knowledge or forethought reveal a truth which they themselves do not understand.
And there are those who have the truth within them, but they tell it not in words. In the bosom of such as these the spirit dwells in rhythmic silence.
When you meet your friend on the roadside or in the market place, let the spirit in you move your lips and direct your tongue.
Let the voice within your voice speak to the ear of his ear;
For his soul will keep the truth of your heart as the taste of the wine is remembered
When the colour is forgotten and the vessel is no more.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Keeping it Dark
REARVIEW MIRROR
(Pearl Jam)
i took a drive today
time to emancipate
i guess it was the beatings made me wise
but i'm not about to give thanks, or apologize
i couldn't breathe, holdin' me down
hand on my face, pushed to the ground
enmity gauged, united by fear
forced to endure what i could not forgive...
i seem to look away
wounds in the mirror waved
it wasn't my surface most defiled
head at your feet, fool to your crown
fist on my plate, swallowed it down
enmity gauged, united by fear
tried to endure what i could not forgive
saw things
saw things
saw things
saw things
clearer
clearer
once you, were in my...
rearview mirror...
i gather speed from you f**king with me
once and for all i'm far away
i hardly believe, finally the shades...are raised...
saw things so much clearer
once you, once you...
rearviewmirror...
saw things so much clearer
once you, once you...
rearviewmirror...
I'm trying to keep my spirits upbeat as best as I could in the wake of so many unexpected setbacks --- the first being the sudden death of one of my batchmates, Atty. Rommel Quebengco. He suffered a stroke while driving home on the South Luzon Expressway. Like one of our managers here in Saudi Arabia, he had the time to stop, catch a few breaths, and then let the Grim Reaper come and take him.
Now, I wasn't close to Rommel or anything, but I knew his mother well from her established position as part of the Lasallian community. I didn't like him all that well, incidentally, judging from a short episode where we were thrown together while we were waiting for our rides home (his was still at school, working...). Then again, that was almost twenty-five years ago and we were most likely still playing with our boogers. It was that chance meeting where I, being the prissy, judgmental kid that I was, found that it wasn't all that hard to dislike someone on sight. But all he was doing was just being there, trying hard to be himself.
It was only later, as we grew up, that I came to realize students whose parents were teachers or administrators (because of their public status) had the burden of finding a defining quality for themselves. No one wants to be remembered just to be so-and-so's kid. So it made them try harder, whether at being noticed or being ignored. At the time, he didn't seem to handle the burden all too well. But what certainty did my child's eyes have back then?
Anyway, we were kids. In the intervening years, I never really got a chance to hang out with him because we studied in a big school, and from then on, we went to different schools, from where he joined the legal fraternity, and I, well, I wormed my way to where I am right now. In the end, I never knew him though he was a batchmate.
Regardless of what good ol' Eddie Wedder says, we can't escape death. We seem to see things with clarity for that moment when we see Death behind us. But maybe we should stop looking at the rearview mirror --- past victories stay where they are, the past. The present is an ever-ethereal wisp of smoke that disappears --- the past expands, the future contracts, and sooner or later, we have to take a leak, go to rest, or fill up on gas.
There too, lies the certainty that road conditions could change all so quickly before our very eyes, and before we know it, we spin out of turn, and Death would catch up and lay his final claim on this life.
Nothing should then, be ever taken for granted. Nothing.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Black Thoughts
I disagree with Mel Brooks' Louis XIV - It's not good to be king. Nope, Simba, I won't wait to find out what it really means to be king.
Being in charge of something important that means a whole lot to many people is very, very daunting. And tiring too. We just finished a very long week putting together the salary increases for one of the sectors of the company - personally, this was work-level hell of a nature I haven't experienced in a very, very long time - though I did put together some all-nighters the last two years (mostly to make up the time that I was slacking, hehe, but still...), this was an enforced activity I never liked much, especially since clerical work is not really my thing. I did score 26th percentile on this on possible job competencies way back in high school, which says much that this line of work is something I don't like doing.
The news of the past few days just went by like blurs - I'm glad Martin Scorsese finally got his props as best director in the Oscars for "The Departed" and just as glad that the film also got tabbed as the best one this year - well, certainly it was more watchable than last year's winner, "Crash," which like its namesake, was a train wreck waiting to happen. "Crash" is a like a UN selection - least possible evil, but "The Departed" beats out a strong set of competition. My personal favorite is "Little Miss Sunshine" but that's because it was the one I saw first. So there.
And oh, I despaired when I read the news that Dwayne Wade dislocated his shoulder in a recent game. There goes the repeat - let's get on the Mavericks bandwagon, people! Well, maybe this is another year for the Pistons and vindication for Mr. Sneering Cheater, Chris Webber. I'm staying tuned.
As for back home, it's the usual bread-and-circuses fare I've come to associate Philippine politics with. There is a disturbing trend -- the line between reality-TV entertainment and real-life events is blurring. It couldn't have come at a worse time than these elections. Funny how people lap up the loss of some people's private lives --- is it that bad, really? It's ironic as well how Filipinos could not correlate how a power such as media or the State can corrupt them totally and deny them even the freedom to think. "Pinoy Big Brother" as entertainment? Shoot, I beg to disagree. Let the yokels yak up to it. Since I'm still largely in charge of my own life, I'm doing something to add spice to my life instead of watching others screw up theirs. And in public to boot.
I've scheduled, and obtained approval, for a vacation during the middle of May. My close friend who shared a foxhole with me while we served under our previous boss asked me if I would get involved in the election. I recall saying, yes, sure, but now? Hmmm.... let me sit on that decision for a few more days, perhaps a week.
I'm in a black mood today. It should clear up in a few days. I'm set myself a commitment to finally write my story idea for a play. Better yet, I should write it up for the screen. But the play first. I'll work myself up to it, and when I get the time to think when I get back home, I should line it up and finish it.
I should say that watching war movies isn't getting to help one any. I watched "Full Metal Jacket" twice in the past two days. Wrong move, but I couldn't help it. R. Lee Ermey's performance as Gunnery Sergeant Hartman was downright inspiring, at times a curious play between caricature and how power can corrupt the smallest of men. The song choices for the soundtrack were also very appropriate --- particularly the end-credits song.
Here's a toast to the Rolling Stones --- a great counterpoint to accompany any depressing mood. There's no way to go from here but up.
PAINT IT BLACK
(Mick Jagger/Keith Richards) (The Rolling Stones)
I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
I see a line of cars and they're all painted black
With flowers and my love, both never to come back
I see people turn their heads and quickly look away
Like a newborn baby it just happens ev'ryday
I look inside myself and see my heart is black
I see my red door and it has been painted black
Maybe then I'll fade away and not have to face the facts
It's not easy facing up when your whole world is black
No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue
I could not foresee this thing happening to you
If I look hard enough into the setting sun
My love will laugh with me before the morning comes
I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
Hmm, hmm, hmm...
I wanna see it painted black, painted black
Black as night, black as coal
I wanna see the sun, blotted out from the sky
I wanna see it painted, painted, painted, painted black
Yeah!
A worthy postscript, just works for me too:
"My thoughts drift back to erect nipple wet dreams about Mary Jane Rottencrotch and the Great Homecoming Fuck Fantasy. I am so happy that I am alive, in one piece. In short, I'm in a world of shit... yes. But I am alive. And I am not afraid."
--- Sergeant (formerly Private) Joker, played by Matthew Modine, "Full Metal Jacket"
Being in charge of something important that means a whole lot to many people is very, very daunting. And tiring too. We just finished a very long week putting together the salary increases for one of the sectors of the company - personally, this was work-level hell of a nature I haven't experienced in a very, very long time - though I did put together some all-nighters the last two years (mostly to make up the time that I was slacking, hehe, but still...), this was an enforced activity I never liked much, especially since clerical work is not really my thing. I did score 26th percentile on this on possible job competencies way back in high school, which says much that this line of work is something I don't like doing.
The news of the past few days just went by like blurs - I'm glad Martin Scorsese finally got his props as best director in the Oscars for "The Departed" and just as glad that the film also got tabbed as the best one this year - well, certainly it was more watchable than last year's winner, "Crash," which like its namesake, was a train wreck waiting to happen. "Crash" is a like a UN selection - least possible evil, but "The Departed" beats out a strong set of competition. My personal favorite is "Little Miss Sunshine" but that's because it was the one I saw first. So there.
And oh, I despaired when I read the news that Dwayne Wade dislocated his shoulder in a recent game. There goes the repeat - let's get on the Mavericks bandwagon, people! Well, maybe this is another year for the Pistons and vindication for Mr. Sneering Cheater, Chris Webber. I'm staying tuned.
As for back home, it's the usual bread-and-circuses fare I've come to associate Philippine politics with. There is a disturbing trend -- the line between reality-TV entertainment and real-life events is blurring. It couldn't have come at a worse time than these elections. Funny how people lap up the loss of some people's private lives --- is it that bad, really? It's ironic as well how Filipinos could not correlate how a power such as media or the State can corrupt them totally and deny them even the freedom to think. "Pinoy Big Brother" as entertainment? Shoot, I beg to disagree. Let the yokels yak up to it. Since I'm still largely in charge of my own life, I'm doing something to add spice to my life instead of watching others screw up theirs. And in public to boot.
I've scheduled, and obtained approval, for a vacation during the middle of May. My close friend who shared a foxhole with me while we served under our previous boss asked me if I would get involved in the election. I recall saying, yes, sure, but now? Hmmm.... let me sit on that decision for a few more days, perhaps a week.
I'm in a black mood today. It should clear up in a few days. I'm set myself a commitment to finally write my story idea for a play. Better yet, I should write it up for the screen. But the play first. I'll work myself up to it, and when I get the time to think when I get back home, I should line it up and finish it.
I should say that watching war movies isn't getting to help one any. I watched "Full Metal Jacket" twice in the past two days. Wrong move, but I couldn't help it. R. Lee Ermey's performance as Gunnery Sergeant Hartman was downright inspiring, at times a curious play between caricature and how power can corrupt the smallest of men. The song choices for the soundtrack were also very appropriate --- particularly the end-credits song.
Here's a toast to the Rolling Stones --- a great counterpoint to accompany any depressing mood. There's no way to go from here but up.
PAINT IT BLACK
(Mick Jagger/Keith Richards) (The Rolling Stones)
I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
I see a line of cars and they're all painted black
With flowers and my love, both never to come back
I see people turn their heads and quickly look away
Like a newborn baby it just happens ev'ryday
I look inside myself and see my heart is black
I see my red door and it has been painted black
Maybe then I'll fade away and not have to face the facts
It's not easy facing up when your whole world is black
No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue
I could not foresee this thing happening to you
If I look hard enough into the setting sun
My love will laugh with me before the morning comes
I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
Hmm, hmm, hmm...
I wanna see it painted black, painted black
Black as night, black as coal
I wanna see the sun, blotted out from the sky
I wanna see it painted, painted, painted, painted black
Yeah!
A worthy postscript, just works for me too:
"My thoughts drift back to erect nipple wet dreams about Mary Jane Rottencrotch and the Great Homecoming Fuck Fantasy. I am so happy that I am alive, in one piece. In short, I'm in a world of shit... yes. But I am alive. And I am not afraid."
--- Sergeant (formerly Private) Joker, played by Matthew Modine, "Full Metal Jacket"
Monday, February 19, 2007
Stealing our Youth
Inquirer Column: Randy David
Even after I have sold out and joined the Establishment, I am still all for student activism, mainly for three things:
1. It is a far healthier way to let out stress and teenage angst.
2. It keeps the youth in focus, even for a short time.
3. And if they get in trouble because of it, they can look back with fond memory.
So now they start killing kids. For what? To stop people from complaining? You could succeed in moving the moon from its path than preventing people from standing up for what they think is right.
A colleague here keeps on saying it's the same faces who complain about the government and it's the same issues all over again. True, we can do without the professional agents provocateur, but the answer is simple: Very little has changed.
I laud those who try their best to effect change wherever they may be. As it is, though, I'm tired of speaking out against the current administration. Mainly because I suspect people don't even bother to listen. But I can tell them this: no party affiliation guarantees your candidate's general program of action or even his or her political integrity. A political newcomer who is not a "trapo" also does not guarantee something better.
So for these people, it's not for me to say whom you are going to vote, or if you would vote at all. You were given intellect to reason, just use it properly. I will be the first to say this --- biases govern our thinking more powerfully than they should. The trick then, is not to view the world as how you think it should be but what it really is. Don't worry about the cause, but see the effect. Then ask questions instead of providing the "answers" you think you already know. To paraphrase H. L. Mencken, your being older does not mean you're getting any wiser.
Open up, and let go --- and be, for those instances, be like a youth raring to change the world again.
Be a youth once more, and relive that passion for change. Now, this is the very same youthful spirit our government is trying to silence. Pray it doesn't happen to you when your time to rage on comes - don't wait for a Qiu Ju moment to happen to you, when you realize that the government whom you so put your trust in has no justice in its soul. Much less expect a better system of living and governance under it.
Meanwhile, mourn the young dreams repression has killed.
* * * * *
My spirit grieves for the passing of my dear uncle, Leonardo de Guzman Sr. from complications arising from prostate cancer. I always admired the way he conducted himself. Unlike my dynamic father, my uncle was neither brash nor outwardly brilliant. However, he had a determined confidence and a surfeit of inspiring spirit, and he was a fountain of fortitude. This was all the more evident when he began his valiant fight against disease and old age.
A quote attributed to the Talmud:
Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world's grief. Do justly, now. Love mercy, now. Walk humbly, now. You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.
Throughout the tests and trials of this life, my uncle stayed true. It frustrates me that I could not even do the least I can do for him, which is to pay my respects.
There is no pain greater than the memory of good times past now that our family grieves. But this too, gives strength, and renews the spirit to its youth and strength in times of adversity.
Even after I have sold out and joined the Establishment, I am still all for student activism, mainly for three things:
1. It is a far healthier way to let out stress and teenage angst.
2. It keeps the youth in focus, even for a short time.
3. And if they get in trouble because of it, they can look back with fond memory.
So now they start killing kids. For what? To stop people from complaining? You could succeed in moving the moon from its path than preventing people from standing up for what they think is right.
A colleague here keeps on saying it's the same faces who complain about the government and it's the same issues all over again. True, we can do without the professional agents provocateur, but the answer is simple: Very little has changed.
I laud those who try their best to effect change wherever they may be. As it is, though, I'm tired of speaking out against the current administration. Mainly because I suspect people don't even bother to listen. But I can tell them this: no party affiliation guarantees your candidate's general program of action or even his or her political integrity. A political newcomer who is not a "trapo" also does not guarantee something better.
So for these people, it's not for me to say whom you are going to vote, or if you would vote at all. You were given intellect to reason, just use it properly. I will be the first to say this --- biases govern our thinking more powerfully than they should. The trick then, is not to view the world as how you think it should be but what it really is. Don't worry about the cause, but see the effect. Then ask questions instead of providing the "answers" you think you already know. To paraphrase H. L. Mencken, your being older does not mean you're getting any wiser.
Open up, and let go --- and be, for those instances, be like a youth raring to change the world again.
Be a youth once more, and relive that passion for change. Now, this is the very same youthful spirit our government is trying to silence. Pray it doesn't happen to you when your time to rage on comes - don't wait for a Qiu Ju moment to happen to you, when you realize that the government whom you so put your trust in has no justice in its soul. Much less expect a better system of living and governance under it.
Meanwhile, mourn the young dreams repression has killed.
* * * * *
My spirit grieves for the passing of my dear uncle, Leonardo de Guzman Sr. from complications arising from prostate cancer. I always admired the way he conducted himself. Unlike my dynamic father, my uncle was neither brash nor outwardly brilliant. However, he had a determined confidence and a surfeit of inspiring spirit, and he was a fountain of fortitude. This was all the more evident when he began his valiant fight against disease and old age.
A quote attributed to the Talmud:
Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world's grief. Do justly, now. Love mercy, now. Walk humbly, now. You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.
Throughout the tests and trials of this life, my uncle stayed true. It frustrates me that I could not even do the least I can do for him, which is to pay my respects.
There is no pain greater than the memory of good times past now that our family grieves. But this too, gives strength, and renews the spirit to its youth and strength in times of adversity.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Laying the Sweet Stuff Nice and Thick
I'll Be Seeing You
I'll Be Seeing You
[ Sammy Fain/Irving Kahal ][ Various Artists ]
I'll be seeing you in all the old familiar places
That this heart of mine embraces all day through
In that small cafe, the park across the way
The children's carousel, the chestnut trees, the wishing well
I'll be seeing you in every lovely summer's day
In everything that's light and gay
I'll always think of you that way
I'll find you in the morning sun
And when the night is new
I'll be looking at the moon
But I'll be seeing you
I'll be seeing you in every lovely summer's day
In everything that's light and gay
I'll always think of you that way
I'll find you in the morning sun
And when the night is new
I'll be looking at the moon
But I'll be seeing you
While we're on the subject, I'll post on one of my favorite sappy songs of a bygone era - "I'll Be Seeing You" though I didn't bother to look for a copy of my favorite version by Billie Holiday. Rosemary Clooney should be enough. The divine Miss Holiday is sampled in three romance flicks - A Time of Destiny (1988) with Timothy Hutton and Melissa Leo, William Hurt as the heavy; Stealing Beauty (1996) by Bernardo Bertolucci featuring Liv Tyler in her luscious glory (and oh, check the pubes of Rachel Weisz in this one, it's one of the movie's defining moments for me, hehe); and The Notebook (2006) with Rachel MacAdams and Ryan Gosling.
I also like The Chairman Frank Sinatra's version, but while Ol' Blue Eyes in his take carries a confident reassurance, Lady Day's fragile but full-bodied and sensual poignancy does the trick for me.
"A Time of Destiny" is at best in capturing the mood of late '30s - early '40s Europe. As for the rest, well, it degenerates into melodramatic goop. Still, I was into a "Romantic" phase at the time and this movie resonated with me. Timothy Hutton was still a matinee idol at the time, but looking at Melissa Leo's current publicity shots, you wouldn't have believed she was a plausible ingenue. The movie and "I'll Be Seeing You" are forever linked in my memory banks.
I watched "Stealing Beauty" only after I saw the vidcaps of Liv Tyler's exposed breast and the aforementioned Ms. Weisz (sue me, I'm shallow). The movie hardly saw distribution in the Philippines and I wouldn't have touched it were it not a Bertolucci film. Actually, the movie is WAAAY BEYOND its value vis-a-vis those vidcaps (much more nudity, hehe), though admittedly this is not one of Bertolucci's best. Still, he captures the visceral qualities of a young woman's coming-of-age.
I panned "The Notebook" the first time I saw it, which is the normal treatment chick flicks get from me, but over time it has achieved some re-watchability. Though Rachel MacAdams gets a lot of credit for this one, Ryan Gosling's understated but intense performance provides a good counterpoint (and he captures James Garner's spirit here, too). I'm not surprised he received an Academy Award nomination for his role in "Half Nelson". And of all the luck, he ends up with Ms. MacAdams in real life, too.
For all those people floating on clouds at the moment, this song is a great "goodnight and goodbye" song. An orchestral arrangement would be a great lift too, for that slow dance (preferably with soft lights, if not moonlight). And to lay it on nice and thick ---
You are standing in a garden in the early evening, the grass and the flowers are wispy with new-fallen dew, and soft lights come on just about at that, sending pocket rainbows everywhere in your line of sight. Through that mild kaleidoscopic haze, your eyes mist up a little even as a slight breeze steps in from somewhere. You don't know where it's coming from, but it enfolds you like a fleeting embrace. There is a slight shiver running down your spine as you take in the aromas of the garden, fresh and sweet and filled with secret longing for a trip down nostalgia lane.
It's a fine time to be alive.
(AND THEN) ----
(PURRRRURRRRUUUURRRUUUUUUTTTT!!!)
Your friend lets out a great big fart in the middle of that romantic scene! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Something like this really happened, though we were in a retreat instead of going at an all-nighter on chick flicks. Tagaytay, 1995. I wouldn't want to mention my friend's name (or if my friend is a he or a she). We were actually having a Closed-Eye Process (which should be rightfully called autogenics) with our mentor Br. Vic Franco. We were getting to the nice part (Br. Vic was utterly mesmerizing us) when the BIG BAD FART came on.
Our mentor did his best to patch it up with a self-amused segue and tried to get us back to point. But the mood definitely had shifted. It was all we could do from chortling, but we had it under control until somebody let out a big guffaw and then the floodgates opened --- everyone convulsed into laughter and the group threw itself into stitches. Yup, mission accomplished. The group was on the same page and we actually focused very well for the rest of the session. I don't remember the rest of that session except that we had to push our buddy Robert's car on the way back home, and of course the No-Flush incident, which I'll take up in another piece.
See, it's for moments like these that we should celebrate the role of love in our lives.
As for all of you whom I consider my friends, I'll be seeing you. Here and everywhere.
I'll Be Seeing You
[ Sammy Fain/Irving Kahal ][ Various Artists ]
I'll be seeing you in all the old familiar places
That this heart of mine embraces all day through
In that small cafe, the park across the way
The children's carousel, the chestnut trees, the wishing well
I'll be seeing you in every lovely summer's day
In everything that's light and gay
I'll always think of you that way
I'll find you in the morning sun
And when the night is new
I'll be looking at the moon
But I'll be seeing you
I'll be seeing you in every lovely summer's day
In everything that's light and gay
I'll always think of you that way
I'll find you in the morning sun
And when the night is new
I'll be looking at the moon
But I'll be seeing you
* * * * *
While we're on the subject, I'll post on one of my favorite sappy songs of a bygone era - "I'll Be Seeing You" though I didn't bother to look for a copy of my favorite version by Billie Holiday. Rosemary Clooney should be enough. The divine Miss Holiday is sampled in three romance flicks - A Time of Destiny (1988) with Timothy Hutton and Melissa Leo, William Hurt as the heavy; Stealing Beauty (1996) by Bernardo Bertolucci featuring Liv Tyler in her luscious glory (and oh, check the pubes of Rachel Weisz in this one, it's one of the movie's defining moments for me, hehe); and The Notebook (2006) with Rachel MacAdams and Ryan Gosling.
I also like The Chairman Frank Sinatra's version, but while Ol' Blue Eyes in his take carries a confident reassurance, Lady Day's fragile but full-bodied and sensual poignancy does the trick for me.
"A Time of Destiny" is at best in capturing the mood of late '30s - early '40s Europe. As for the rest, well, it degenerates into melodramatic goop. Still, I was into a "Romantic" phase at the time and this movie resonated with me. Timothy Hutton was still a matinee idol at the time, but looking at Melissa Leo's current publicity shots, you wouldn't have believed she was a plausible ingenue. The movie and "I'll Be Seeing You" are forever linked in my memory banks.
I watched "Stealing Beauty" only after I saw the vidcaps of Liv Tyler's exposed breast and the aforementioned Ms. Weisz (sue me, I'm shallow). The movie hardly saw distribution in the Philippines and I wouldn't have touched it were it not a Bertolucci film. Actually, the movie is WAAAY BEYOND its value vis-a-vis those vidcaps (much more nudity, hehe), though admittedly this is not one of Bertolucci's best. Still, he captures the visceral qualities of a young woman's coming-of-age.
I panned "The Notebook" the first time I saw it, which is the normal treatment chick flicks get from me, but over time it has achieved some re-watchability. Though Rachel MacAdams gets a lot of credit for this one, Ryan Gosling's understated but intense performance provides a good counterpoint (and he captures James Garner's spirit here, too). I'm not surprised he received an Academy Award nomination for his role in "Half Nelson". And of all the luck, he ends up with Ms. MacAdams in real life, too.
For all those people floating on clouds at the moment, this song is a great "goodnight and goodbye" song. An orchestral arrangement would be a great lift too, for that slow dance (preferably with soft lights, if not moonlight). And to lay it on nice and thick ---
You are standing in a garden in the early evening, the grass and the flowers are wispy with new-fallen dew, and soft lights come on just about at that, sending pocket rainbows everywhere in your line of sight. Through that mild kaleidoscopic haze, your eyes mist up a little even as a slight breeze steps in from somewhere. You don't know where it's coming from, but it enfolds you like a fleeting embrace. There is a slight shiver running down your spine as you take in the aromas of the garden, fresh and sweet and filled with secret longing for a trip down nostalgia lane.
It's a fine time to be alive.
(AND THEN) ----
(PURRRRURRRRUUUURRRUUUUUUTTTT!!!)
Your friend lets out a great big fart in the middle of that romantic scene! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Something like this really happened, though we were in a retreat instead of going at an all-nighter on chick flicks. Tagaytay, 1995. I wouldn't want to mention my friend's name (or if my friend is a he or a she). We were actually having a Closed-Eye Process (which should be rightfully called autogenics) with our mentor Br. Vic Franco. We were getting to the nice part (Br. Vic was utterly mesmerizing us) when the BIG BAD FART came on.
Our mentor did his best to patch it up with a self-amused segue and tried to get us back to point. But the mood definitely had shifted. It was all we could do from chortling, but we had it under control until somebody let out a big guffaw and then the floodgates opened --- everyone convulsed into laughter and the group threw itself into stitches. Yup, mission accomplished. The group was on the same page and we actually focused very well for the rest of the session. I don't remember the rest of that session except that we had to push our buddy Robert's car on the way back home, and of course the No-Flush incident, which I'll take up in another piece.
See, it's for moments like these that we should celebrate the role of love in our lives.
As for all of you whom I consider my friends, I'll be seeing you. Here and everywhere.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Romance Rebate
Eiffel Tower Blacks Out Momentarily
In one more week the Christian world, or at least the Westernized portion of it, will melt into puddles of goop. Yes, Valentine's is just around the corner and what do I have to say about it?
Bah, HUMBUG!
But seriously, if I had a theme song for these times, it's "Hello, Young Lovers" from "The King and I":
Intro:
When I think of Tom
I think of a night,
When the earth smelled of summer
And the sky was streaked with white,
The soft mist of England
Was sleeping on a hill.
I remember this,
And I always will...
There are new lovers now
On the same silent hill,
Looking on the same blue sea.
And I know Tom and I are a part of them all --
And they're all a part of Tom and me.
Main:
Hello young lovers, whoever you are,
I hope your troubles are few.
All my good wishes go with you tonight,
I've been in love like you.
Be brave, young lovers, and follow your star,
Be brave and faithful and true,
Cling very close to each other tonight.
I've been in love like you.
I know how it feels to have wings on your heels,
And to fly down the street in a trance.
You fly down a street on the chance that you meet,
And you meet -- not really by chance.
Don't cry young lovers, whatever you do,
Don't cry because I'm alone;
All of my memories are happy tonight,
I've had a love of my own.
I've had a love of my own, like yours-
I've had a love of my own.
Be brave, young lovers, and follow your star,
Be brave and faithful and true,
Cling very close to each other tonight.
I've been in love like you.
I know how it feels to have wings on your heels,
And to fly down the street in a trance.
You fly down a street on the chance that you meet,
And you meet -- not really by chance.
Don't cry young lovers, whatever you do,
Don't cry because I'm alone;
All of my memories are happy tonight,
I've had a love of my own.
I've had a love of my own, like yours-
I've had a love of my own.
We can hem and haw until eternity about love, but there is no need, really - if we realize the love that is already within us. While certainly the Eiffel Tower going out will dampen the mood, there is an issue bigger than the commerce of love.
My wish, and my hope, is that more and more people will look at the important things --- to take Ludwig Mies van der Rohe out of context, "God is in the details." The stark, barren landscape of our love is a prettier sight when it is raw and unadulterated.
I did have a love of my own - with C. - but one day it ended. There was no "happy ever after." Or at least, her happy ever after was with someone else. Since then it's been that hard to reach into my heart and pull out something more. I am pricked, always, by the thought of the "might-have-beens" but there are no regrets. She will have her own category in my personal pantheon, and one day I hope another will be lifted up to take the place of honor, which has been largely empty since she left, despite all the hits and misses since then.
For young lovers out there, even though the light of romance dims, I hope and pray the afterglow that shines from within you and between you will be all the more radiant than the fireworks show or the full moon at night. Follow your star, be faithful, and brave, and true.
A shout out also to my sister, who celebrated her birthday yesterday. She and her hubby may not be considered "young lovers" but their love is fresh and new --- may this love keep the vitality of its springtime and grow in strength for they face interesting times (to say the least, if I may opine) ahead.
In one more week the Christian world, or at least the Westernized portion of it, will melt into puddles of goop. Yes, Valentine's is just around the corner and what do I have to say about it?
Bah, HUMBUG!
But seriously, if I had a theme song for these times, it's "Hello, Young Lovers" from "The King and I":
Intro:
When I think of Tom
I think of a night,
When the earth smelled of summer
And the sky was streaked with white,
The soft mist of England
Was sleeping on a hill.
I remember this,
And I always will...
There are new lovers now
On the same silent hill,
Looking on the same blue sea.
And I know Tom and I are a part of them all --
And they're all a part of Tom and me.
Main:
Hello young lovers, whoever you are,
I hope your troubles are few.
All my good wishes go with you tonight,
I've been in love like you.
Be brave, young lovers, and follow your star,
Be brave and faithful and true,
Cling very close to each other tonight.
I've been in love like you.
I know how it feels to have wings on your heels,
And to fly down the street in a trance.
You fly down a street on the chance that you meet,
And you meet -- not really by chance.
Don't cry young lovers, whatever you do,
Don't cry because I'm alone;
All of my memories are happy tonight,
I've had a love of my own.
I've had a love of my own, like yours-
I've had a love of my own.
Be brave, young lovers, and follow your star,
Be brave and faithful and true,
Cling very close to each other tonight.
I've been in love like you.
I know how it feels to have wings on your heels,
And to fly down the street in a trance.
You fly down a street on the chance that you meet,
And you meet -- not really by chance.
Don't cry young lovers, whatever you do,
Don't cry because I'm alone;
All of my memories are happy tonight,
I've had a love of my own.
I've had a love of my own, like yours-
I've had a love of my own.
We can hem and haw until eternity about love, but there is no need, really - if we realize the love that is already within us. While certainly the Eiffel Tower going out will dampen the mood, there is an issue bigger than the commerce of love.
My wish, and my hope, is that more and more people will look at the important things --- to take Ludwig Mies van der Rohe out of context, "God is in the details." The stark, barren landscape of our love is a prettier sight when it is raw and unadulterated.
I did have a love of my own - with C. - but one day it ended. There was no "happy ever after." Or at least, her happy ever after was with someone else. Since then it's been that hard to reach into my heart and pull out something more. I am pricked, always, by the thought of the "might-have-beens" but there are no regrets. She will have her own category in my personal pantheon, and one day I hope another will be lifted up to take the place of honor, which has been largely empty since she left, despite all the hits and misses since then.
For young lovers out there, even though the light of romance dims, I hope and pray the afterglow that shines from within you and between you will be all the more radiant than the fireworks show or the full moon at night. Follow your star, be faithful, and brave, and true.
* * * * *
A shout out also to my sister, who celebrated her birthday yesterday. She and her hubby may not be considered "young lovers" but their love is fresh and new --- may this love keep the vitality of its springtime and grow in strength for they face interesting times (to say the least, if I may opine) ahead.
Monday, February 05, 2007
Falling Stars
When you cry
Your tears are falling stars
Make a wish
And it will be granted.
When you fall
Look high and not look down
Pick yourself up
And start where you stopped.
Your tears are falling stars
Make a wish
And it will be granted.
When you fall
Look high and not look down
Pick yourself up
And start where you stopped.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Misty-Eyed
If of all words of tongue and pen,
The saddest are, "It might have been,"
More sad are these we daily see:
"It is, but hadn't ought to be."
--- Bret Harte, American fictionist and poet (It's not the WWE wrestler, stoopid!)
For my parents, who would have celebrated their forty-ninth wedding anniversary today. I wonder how our lives would have turned out had my father lived longer.
In "Dune," the Lady Jessica Atreides speaks of the hard days as an acolyte and of her hate of the Reverend Mother Gaius Mohiam. She, however, cannot help but love her teachers, her tormentors.
For some time, I hated what my father represented and his control over our lives. Now that I am older, I am glad to have gained some perspective. But it was impossible not to have loved him. How I wish I could generate that kind of devotion that he did. If I could only do half as much, I would be a well-loved and when I pass, a deeply-mourned man.
* * * * *
This is also a misty-eyed memorial for my friend Miggy Baluyut, who passed on two years ago earlier this month. Oh, what could he have been!
The saddest are, "It might have been,"
More sad are these we daily see:
"It is, but hadn't ought to be."
--- Bret Harte, American fictionist and poet (It's not the WWE wrestler, stoopid!)
For my parents, who would have celebrated their forty-ninth wedding anniversary today. I wonder how our lives would have turned out had my father lived longer.
In "Dune," the Lady Jessica Atreides speaks of the hard days as an acolyte and of her hate of the Reverend Mother Gaius Mohiam. She, however, cannot help but love her teachers, her tormentors.
For some time, I hated what my father represented and his control over our lives. Now that I am older, I am glad to have gained some perspective. But it was impossible not to have loved him. How I wish I could generate that kind of devotion that he did. If I could only do half as much, I would be a well-loved and when I pass, a deeply-mourned man.
This is also a misty-eyed memorial for my friend Miggy Baluyut, who passed on two years ago earlier this month. Oh, what could he have been!
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Imagining Movies
Just when I thought I should be considering serious literature...
| You Should Be a Film Writer |
 You don't just create compelling stories, you see them as clearly as a movie in your mind. You have a knack for details and dialogue. You can really make a character come to life. Chances are, you enjoy creating all types of stories. The joy is in the storytelling. And nothing would please you more than millions of people seeing your story on the big screen! |
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