Flash Back 2012

The top search terms that led visitors, mainly from the US, into my blog involved an impending end of the world by the year 2012. It appeared that my entry of more than a year ago had been one of the top search results for queries about "2012" and "end of the world." Actually, the most common search string would be one in denial: "2012 is not the end of the world." That made me chuckle, though the funniest for me was "how to prevent the end of the world in 2012." For some time, I actually topped the "how to prevent" search results!

I had mentioned my earlier post, the scientifically sound predictions for 2012: the alignment of the center of the Milky Way with the Sun as seen in the sky (the effects of which are open to speculation) and the height of solar activity leading to solar storms (that can damage satellites and power grids, among other things). Other events converging on that year, or specifically December 21, has fired up the imaginations or fears of the general public. Some of these events have been mentioned in Wikipedia. There are the astrological speculations on the said alignment. Also, the Earth might have a close encounter with some heavenly body. On the other hand, there could be an "elevated consciousness," a "superintelligence," a "singularity" on that point in time. Or, with talks on global warming, there could be an environmental/geological upheaval and depletion of resources, which could lead to war. The comprehensive collection of Dire Gnosis adds to the mix aliens, Kali Yuga (the Indian equivalent of the fallen state of humans) and predictions from indigenous tribes. My own explorations of the Internet have led me to The Fourth Turning which claims a cyclical nature of Anglo-American history. Of course, around 2012, there will be another crisis, but the book is optimistic that a new generation of Heroes would rise to the challenge. In a future entry, I'd discuss more on generations, but for now Wikipedia can provide an overview.

In all, the journey towards 2012 is either that of destruction or of enlightenment. Then again, maybe nothing will happen, but that will be a big boring disappointment.

The convergence from various sources: cultural, religious, historical, scientific and pseudoscientific, with some of them arriving at a 2012 conclusion independent of each other, could be quite compelling. It's no wonder fiction isn't far behind. The Wikipedia link on 2012 also provides references in the arts and popular culture, but anime is not listed, so I'll provide two.

The first one, RahXephon, has explicit references to 2012: its timeline indicates a re-emergence of a lost civilization a week before December 21. The rest of the story features battles between music-powered giant beings in a conflict between humans and the race of the lost civilization. I hear it's a mind-bender, but since I haven't watched this anime, I comment no further.

The second one is a real classic: Macross, also known in the West as Robotech (an adaptation that branched out to its own story). In its timeline, by 2010, humanity was almost wiped out in the first Space War with an alien race. Two years later, the first space colonies leave Earth to spread humanity and culture throughout the galaxy. The concept of fighter planes transforming into robots leading to spectacular dogfights in outer space captured my attention to its awesomeness. Its breakthrough use of music and war romance also made it attract a wide variety of fans. I actually stole the title of this entry from the collection of music videos made in line with the launching of the first colony.

Twenty-five years worth of movies and TV series later, the franchise is back with its latest offering, Macross Frontier, which tells the story of a colony traveling to the center of the galaxy by the year 2059. Two stills from the special premiere of this latest eye-popping animation series now adorn this blog entry.

-oOo-

Speaking of catastrophic events of cosmic proportions, Mars had a close scare when news of an asteroid impact came out last month. This asteroid, named 2007 WD5, passed by Earth (as close as 7.5 million kilometers) and was on its way to the red planet. On the event of an impact, this 50-meter space rock would produce a crater on Mars similar to the one in Arizona.

There actually had been one other documented celestial collision. Back in 1994, astronomers pointed their telescopes, Hubble included, to the Jupiter as 21 fragments of the comet Shoemaker-Levy smash into the gas giant (if just one of those chunks had struck Earth, we're goners). The difference this time, aside from Mars being a terrestrial planet like Earth, is that there are Martian probes in orbit and on the surface. These could check on the impact and return richer data, which could prove valuable in our own defense against falling space rocks.

Observations crossing over the New Year increased the probability of impact to as high as 3.6%. This wouldn't amount to much, but reaching the same level of probability of impact within the next hundreds of years is already rare among other Near-Earth Objects. Further observations within this month, however, reduced the chance of impact to 0.01% and the asteroid would deal Mars a close shave as it passes to within 4,000 to 26,000 km. Oh well, too bad there would be no interplanetary fireworks for January, but I'd still be counting down to 30 January 2008 18:55 UT+8, the estimated time of impact or closest encounter. Blame it on the movie Armageddon that showed how countdowns could be cool, especially when it counted down until the last second to catastrophe.

By the way, there would be a bigger one which would also give earth a close shave at around the same time.

-oOo-

One movie caught my attention while I was scanning the list of films for this year. It was a remake of The Day the Earth Stood Still, a 1951 film about a visitor from outer space named Klaatu and his invincible robot. I had watched the black and white original two years ago via Google Video (the movie's old enough to be part of the Public Domain, thus can be distributed for free) and was amazed at how they pulled off the "primitive" special effects. It could still induce the desired audience reaction fifty years later! Perhaps the iconic theremin music helped. The movie's message for peace had retained its lasting impact from the Cold War to the present War on Terror.

What got me really amused with this remake was that Klaatu will be played by Keanu Reeves. I could imagine him turning Klaatu into a Neo, and with a possible change in the script, might actually do some kung-fu fighting again. I don't know if the producers would include a 2012 angle to this one, but I'd be watching this remake, even if only for the lulz of seeing The Day the Earth Stood Still get remade into The Matrix.

CLICK HERE FOR THE REST OF THE ENTRY COLLAPSE ENTRY

Disabusing Some 2007 Notions

The year 2007 is over, but before we "move on" to a new one, I would like to touch on some events and notions of this year that, thanks to the media, have been blown to ridiculous proportions.

First up is the media circus swarming over the death Marianet Amper in Davao City. They say, based on a note she left plus a cursory examination of the household, it's the poverty that had drove the poor girl to suicide. Perfect! The news producers must have thought while leaning back on their plush seats to process the situation. This angle should be hyped up because it is such a "convenient truth" for profit, if not for power.

Later on, when the discussion among ivory towers died down a bit, the infamous mayor of Davao, perhaps more as a defense of his economic handling of the city and a defense of political allies, launched an investigation to see if Marianet has been a victim of an abusive father. Some evidence actually pointed to this angle, but, oh, this would ruin the sensational alignment of an innocent death, poverty, hopelessness, corrupt administration and farcical economic gains! An alignment that could finally provide the spark to topple the said corrupt administration and prove once again the awesome power of the Philippine Free Press and avenge the murders inflicted upon their kind.

Don't expect the issue to be given its proper conclusion, though. Later still, the mutiny at the Manila Peninsula, the spark for a power grab, have fizzled out and some media personalities have been detained for processing. "Processing?" The government should never have the monopoly of double-talk! Forget Marianet, this is a personal attack against media!

Too bad they haven't even considered my theory that what have driven the girl to suicide are the earworm voices of Sean Kingston and JoJo warbling the lyrics below to a pleasant beat and chord progression that is familiar to everyone since Ben E. King:

You're way too beautiful girl
That's why it'll never work
You have me suicidal, suicidal
When you say it's over
Damn all these beautiful girls
They only wanna do you dirt
They'll have you suicidal, suicidal
When they say it's over

I'm way to cool for ya boy.
That's why it'll never work.
I'll have you suicidal,suicidal.
When I say its over.
Damn all these beautiful girls.
We're only gonna do ya dirt.
We'll have you suicidal, suicidal.
When we say it's over.

-oOo-

Speaking of the Manila Peninsula stand off, there is this particular defense for media's actuations before, during and after the incident at the Pen. Most pundits have been debating about the right to information vs. the duty of the police and police overkill vs. police SOP among other things, but there was one statement that gave most some pause: if none of the media people stayed put, Trillanes, Lim and company might have been killed. Most have apparently accepted this as a valid line of thinking. Indeed, in exploring this idea one might assert that if there was complete media coverage of Ninoy's arrival back in 1983, he would never have been killed.

This, however, is an oversimplification because it does not take other factors into consideration. Consequently, it requires a lot of assumptions, which could be telling. First it already assumes that someone is out to kill somebody. Otherwise, it assumes that the mutineers will shoot it out to the death. Still otherwise, it assumes a poorly trained and undisciplined SWAT team. Bottom line, there appears to be a distrust to the authorities (may they be de facto or de juris, with or without moral ascendancy), or an effort to create mistrust, or, further still, pandering to a possibly distrustful public. Perhaps it is but natural for media to be critical of the authorities; therefore, this is acceptable.

Other assumptions would be that the killing would take place inside the hotel under their watchful eyes. This one is dismaying, because it lacks imagination. Rather, it somehow reeks of naive self-importance: the mere presence of media can decide who lives and who dies. They should have considered that media can be used and have been used to broadcast murder and that their complete coverage would be rendered powerless in saving lives, instead creating a more potent "chilling effect." Oh sure, the killer may--repeat, may be caught on camera, but they are assuming the murderer will allow him/herself to be identified, an assumption that could cost the very lives of the media people. Ah, but they are willing to die for the right of the public to information, aren't they?

It would have been better for all if they railed against the curfew. Maybe, a legal attack wouldn't prosper since the administration has done its homework and has conjured a legal block, fair or otherwise. But the opposition could have injected more malice to this overreaction. In the end, the media preferred discussing about themselves. In addition, compared to the stand-off and the curfew, the media aspect has more gray areas and touches on their area of expertise; thus, it has more fodder for further analysis.

-oOo-

In the end, I'd like to share what I've written in the Philstar Feedback Section (subsequently deleted by the moderator, I wonder why) back when the debates were raging about the media handling of the Manila Peninsula stand-off:

Philippine media is like a pendulum swinging from authoritarian control to anarchy. Marcos started this pendulum's swing by holding the bob to the side of state control, and when his iron grip was forced to let go, the bob swung wildly to the opposite side. Shall the media then slowly swing back to being nothing more than a government propaganda arm? Who could be the great leader whose hand shall still this swinging and restore the bob to its stability at the center?

-oOo-

Now for some lighter stuff. There is a decor hanging on our Christmas tree that appears not so "Chistmassy." For me, it looks more like a key chain. Then the thought hit me: why not hang on the Christmas tree key chains that can pass as Christmas decor? I'm thinking of the shiny "gold" and "silver" metallic kinds, but of course any key chain may do. It can earn your tree a second look from visitors. At the very least, you save on buying additional Christmas trinkets and at the same time find a way to put those key chains received every Christmas into good use.

(Disclaimer: To those who have given me key chains, be assured that this sentimental chap has remembered and will remember the good memories associated with the gifts. It's just that there are not that many bag zippers and sets of keys where I can adorn with your key chains, so they stay in storage until the ones currently in use get worn out.)

Now if you see this phenomenon next year, bear in mind that you read it first here in Highway Drift.

-oOo-

I've written before about the pathetic excuse for carolers exhaling sounds that could hardly bring anyone the tiniest bit of Christmas cheer. Fortunately for this Christmas season, I've encountered none from their kind. Some singers in fact deviated from the tiresome medley of Ang Pasko ay Sumapit, Jingle Bells and We Wish You a Merry Christmas, and this I've much appreciated. Also, there are still jeepney carolers, but this time, they thump their tin can drums with a more coherent rhythm and none wish for the death of stingy people.

One caroling tactic I've noticed this Christmas is the Stake Out Caroling. That is, the singers stay by an empty house and spring into action when the homeowner comes. Of course the unwitting recipient of Holiday songs no longer has the option of ignoring the carolers. At least they're not staking out to rob someone.

A prosperous new year to all!

CLICK HERE FOR THE REST OF THE ENTRY COLLAPSE ENTRY

Halloween Ephemeral Thoughts

Last year, in the height of the blackout induced by Typhoon Milenyo, I chanced upon a ghostly white apparition in the mirror. It commanded me to take its picture, which I dutifully did using my trusty Nokia 3200. What a vain ghost, I thought. The figure apparently read my mind, got angry and promptly disappeared.

It's not just the mirror that may appear scary in this unit of ours. The landlady has a fascination with antiques: tribal masks, Catholic ikons, a Hindu and a Buddhist statue. She displays them at the stairs leading to the unit. It's an effective scare tactic against bothersome children (and maybe the adults too, but it's more probable that they'd steal the figures). Inside, dark woodwork significantly subdues illumination (darkness is her preference, I think, because she's a widow). The overall impression created is that of the inside of a decades-old house, even though the entire housing complex is just over ten years old. My sister-in-law actually reports of a presence here.

Okay, it's ten in the evening, I'm all alone in this unit and I'm writing about how scary it is? I better change the topic before the vain ghost appears in the mirror again.

-oOo-

Just recently, I was playing with a ballpen equipped with a laser pointer and an LED flashlight. It dawned upon me that Harry Potter's lighted wand (lumos spell) may be probably implemented in the movies through an LED device (of course, in the movies, the luminosity would be further enhanced). If I could fashion such a toy wand, it just might sell this Halloween or perhaps during another typhoon-induced blackout, hmm.

-oOo-

I notice that I have this certain fascination with the "Shadow" Jungian Archetype. If I would dress up for a Halloween party, I'd be a vampire or Batman or some other similarly mysterious creature of the night. Indeed I am a creature of the night with my penchant of staying up late and waking up at noon.

By the way, speaking of archetypes, these are culture-based constructs used by the psychologist Carl Jung to interpret dreams. Jung believes that the persons, animals, things and other creatures and objects we see in our dreams reflect the current states of various parts of our personality. Thus if ever we see dark and mysterious characters like a vampire, Batman, the devil or even an "evil" version of ourselves we see the Shadow archetype, which embodies our dark or repressed side. Observe how this character appeared and acted in the dream. Was it dominant or weak, jubilant or unhappy? What did it say? More archetypes representing other part of our personality can be found in our dreams. (Google them!) Note how these archetypes interact with each other in the dream.

Ah, dream interpretation can be fun. I miss my Psychology class. I remember how the teacher could check our 100-item exam papers immediately after submitting, without even consulting an answer key. Applying my psychology knowledge, I figured he was using a mnemonic device. Sure enough, though vaguely, I saw patterns in the answers. In fairness, I needed to answer correctly a significant number of items, enough to get a decent grade, before I could see the patterns and ace the test. The teacher now uses an answer key, just in case another student like me pops up in his class.

-oOo-

Ever stumbled upon the blog of a dead person? I know of one: Julia in the Philippines. Remember her? Her death was actually in the news a few months ago. Note the title of her last entry. Leave her a comment (log-in required). Maybe she might reply from the great beyond.

Makes me think of what would happen to our blogs in the event of our death. Would we also receive loving parting comments? If there's a saying that one must live each day like it's one's final day on earth, then blogging each entry like it's the last you'll ever make just might clear up the trash in the blogging world.

CLICK HERE FOR THE REST OF THE ENTRY COLLAPSE ENTRY

Traslacion Musings

Last month, I went back to Naga for the Peñafrancia Fiesta, its opening festivities, to be precise. The Peñafrancia Fiesta starts with the Traslacion, the procession where the miraculous images of Our Lady of Peñafrancia and the Divino Rostro (the image of the suffering Jesus on the Widow Veronica's cloth) are brought from the Basilica Minore where She is enshrined to the more accessible Naga Metropolitan Cathedral downtown. This practice started out back in the Spanish colonial past where walking is the main method of land transportation, the basilica no more than a nipa-roofed shrine located in the scarcely populated city outskirts, and the cathedral was located right in the place to be, at the heart of the city.

I'd prefer going to the Traslacion rather than the main event nine days later--the Fluvial Procession, where the Image is returned to the basilica via a river barge (called the Pagoda). Perhaps it's just my aversion to crowds. Actually, the number of people in the city does shoot up during Traslacion, but there's about twice more people during the Fluvial Procession. And speaking of large crowds, fiestas not only attract devotees, tourists and merchants (some aren't even selling Bicol merchandise, for crying out loud), but also shady characters who think of large crowds as both unwitting prey and convenient hiding place, just as what fellow blogger Sidney recently experienced (he too went to Naga last month, but for the Fluvial Procession).

It had been six years since I had last watched or participated in the Traslacion. I guess it's a Bicolano thing to have this itch to participate. It also helped that every school in Naga and its neighboring towns sends a delegation, so from elementary to high school I had been marching, rain or shine, in the Traslacion. My plan was to wiggle my way, by affiliation with my former teachers, into the delegation of my high school alma mater. I was thinking it would also be a good opportunity to brush up with the latest in the school and in the city, hitting two birds with one stone. So there I was walking at high noon towards the usual staging point of my high school, which was a quarter of the way down from the starting point of the procession. (They are still schoolchildren, so it would be enough for them to walk for about a kilometer while the grown-up devotees take on the full route, which is about a couple hundred of meters longer. Yeah, we're tough like that.) I was wearing only a T-shirt, but the heat was getting into me, which is not a good sign. Back then I wore two layers of formal "gala" uniform, but I took the heat in stride. I discovered that recently, the staging area was moved, which meant students now walked about 30 more meters for the procession, no biggie actually.

Finally, I saw the delegation of my high school, but was disappointed. I've been supportive of its recent major changes like a move to a new campus located at the city outskirts (I meant the new city outskirts, kilometers farther than the Basilica Minore) and, of course, co-education, but, as a school that prides itself as a Bicolano, Catholic and Jesuit institution, I hope they retain this small tradition during the fiesta. What I stumbled upon in the delegation was a sound mobile followed by the crucifix, school standards and candles held by the altar servers, followed by senior high school students and teachers then finally some students from the college. I didn't even find the old teachers whom I personally know. This was a token delegation, no different from any other school in the procession. I risk sounding like an old fogey, but during my time, the delegation came in full force, which made it unique among the other schools in the Traslacion. At front was not just the crucifix, candles and school standards but a platoon of altar servers. Then there was a brass band from college (although its recent absence was due to the fact that the school bands were now positioned at locations along the route rather than march with their respective schools). Following the band was a platoon of CAT officers, who will compete a week later in the annual Military Parade. After them were all high school students escorted by all their teachers. Among the students were members of the mysterious religious organization Days with the Lord holding up banners with Marian slogans.

Dejected, I walked away. A few blocks away though, I saw a new delegation that was, in some ways, "unique" and amusing enough to elicit raised eyebrows from me. At its heart, Naga is a conservative city, where values like modesty, apparent if not internalized, are still regarded highly. For instance, the uniforms in its schools are of the long skirt variety (as exemplified by the seifuku in the anime Maria-sama ga Miteru, which, incidentally, is set in a Catholic school for girls, see pic at left), and this fits well with the religious procession the students are participating. But times do change and Naga is not exempted. Recently, the city had welcomed an international school, Brentwood if I'm not mistaken, and they were also marching in the Traslacion. The thing is, international schools sport a uniform of more worldly standards (and the Brentwood uniform in particular uncannily resembles the seifuku of Ghost Hunt with its sailor bow, long sleeves, short skirts and knee-high socks, see pic at right). After the initial startled reaction, the first question that came to mind was why was this not present during our time (Why?!). Then I thought, quoting somebody, "that's hot"--literally speaking--but I guess like any other Bicol resident, the Brentwood students could cope with the scorching weather. As to the question whether there were anime-cute students worthy of their anime-like uniform, it's probable but I could not ascertain since the fiery sun was beating down upon me and I had to move on.

In the end, I had to content myself with merely watching the Traslacion by the roadside together with childhood friends, something which I last did more than a decade ago anyway. At first I noticed that clouds were gathering above the approximate location of the basilica. She has started her voyage, I thought to myself. Slowly, like the pace of the procession, the clouds crept towards our location downtown. I wouldn't be surprised if it brought rain along with it since water was more than welcome in the midst of the voyadores, the tumultuous sea of men bearing the Image of Our Lady (think rush-hour MRT, only with a lot more pushing and shoving and drunkenness and body odor). Either way, there were volunteer fire trucks and civic-minded homeowners along the route willing to hose some relief onto the men. A similar sign of weather cooperating with the festivities happens during the Fluvial Procession where rains would raise the water level in the Naga River so that the barge could float along more smoothly, a feat replicated, just in case, using flood control structures.

The image of the Divino Rostro passed by, and, a couple of hours later, that of Our Lady. Together with the waved handkerchiefs and falling confetti, were raised cameras and cellphones. In the age of 3G and blogs, this centuries-old tradition continues among the Bicolanos will continue to do so for ages to come.

Traslacion photo stolen from Chy.

CLICK HERE FOR THE REST OF THE ENTRY COLLAPSE ENTRY

Drifting Thoughts 05

First up is the news: observe that my side bar is still counting up the days after the election, and we still have no complete senatorial line-up. But I'm not here for another heavy-handed commentary. Instead, I'd just like to share something I found in the June 28, 2007 homepage of the Philstar.com. Shown then and there was a photo of Rep. Migz Zubiri propping up his legs while watching the favorable (for him) news about the Maguindanao polls. I find it surprising that no blog jester has picked on the picture's potential for hilarity, so I shall do the honors then:

-oOo-

If there is one thing in the news that I'd like to comment on it would be the issue concerning the first Filipino conquerors of Mt. Everest. Well, it's not exactly news anymore, but remember how Dale Abenojar's sherpas has earlier been quoted by the physician of First Philippine Mount Everest Expedition as indicating that Abenojar, whom they have accompanied, has not really reached the summit? Well recently, the Philippine Star has contacted the sherpas of Abenojar, and the guides deny ever having issued that contrary statement and maintained that their Filipino companion has reached the summit.

I personally would want to believe that Dale Abenojar, on his own physical and financial capacity, devoid of the media hype and corporate sponsorship, is the first Filipino to have climbed world's tallest peak. It's a shame that the quest for the first Filipino up on Everest became a rat race, fuelled and escalated by corporate rivalries most notably ABS-CBN and GMA7. What's the glory in fellow countrymen racing against each other to the top, especially if the race is greatly seen not as a noble contest (like the X-Prize that promotes scientific breakthroughs) but as a mere extension of the Network Wars? Competition, one may say, has forced out excellence, but this quest for Everest is better achieved through cooperation (as the team of first Filipina climbers have demonstrated the following year--why is it that in the Philippines, the women are more reasonable?). But if there is no cooperation, the one with the strong sense of purpose must plod through, and that is where the independent climber Dale Abenojar has redeemed the Filipino and trumped the corporate wannabes who have not achieved the restoration of Philippine pride but rather have shown the negative attitudes that burden this nation.

It would be easier and more gratifying to believe if things are just so simple, but they're not. I've read some blogs that tell of Dale's penchant for tall tales and acting like a wuss. Could he have improved and fulfilled his dream, but was tragically viewed like the boy who cried wolf by those in the local mountaineering community that he have pissed off? Whatever it is, in the absence of solid evidence to prove one claim or the other, I stand by my personal preference, because the message of this version of events is in line with what I want to impart.

-oOo-

I finally figured out the existence of some searches that lead to my blog, and discovered an unintended meaning of my blog title. I got to know of something called "Drifting" (picture from the same Wikipedia link), which is, more than a motorsport, a new paradigm in driving. It is popularized by the manga and anime Initial D and the movie The Fast and the Furious Tokyo Drift. Unfortunately for Drifting enthusiasts, Highway Drift is not about the practice of the driving technique in the highway but rather about this writer's current drifting in life while having residential and business addresses located near highways.

-oOo-

To cap a somewhat sports-themed entry, a few words about the just-started UAAP season 70 are in order. I'm actually one of the apathetic students then and now, the one who would be contented with reading about my school's game in the papers the next day and who would watch the live telecast only during important games. Heck, I haven't watched one game live at the gladiators' pit that is the Araneta Coliseum! But now that I have the means, allow me a little bit of ra-ra-rah...

Oh yeah.

Oh yeah!

Now perhaps you might be wondering how I have created this picture as well as manipulated that of Migz Zubiri in this post. No need for Photoshop, and no need to shell out some few thousands of bucks. Behold the open source GNU Image Manipulation Program--the GIMP, in short. Special thanks to Jose for showing me the light.

The image sources for this banner, specifically, is taken from the Broderbund ClickArt collection for Windows 95(!), whose CDs contain the Photodex CompuPic image browser legacy program I have featured (with screenshots!) before. It was a pleasant surprise that these companies are still alive and selling the latest versions of their software. The ancient ClickArt jpeg collection I have with me, for instance, had this awful resolution that the cameraphones of today can rival. Now they have this DVD ClickArt collection, haha. On the other hand, the latest version of CompuPic amazingly features an upgraded version of The Eye! I wonder if it still follows the mouse, though. Come to think of it, with help from the latest software like the GIMP, these really old relics can still fulfill their purpose.

CLICK HERE FOR THE REST OF THE ENTRY COLLAPSE ENTRY

The Philosopher's Tales

Back in college, I had this nice old professor as my teacher in Ethics (let's call him Mr. R). His requirements were greatly relaxing; it only consisted of a midterm and a final oral exam as well as an optional final paper. Though it seemed that the topics would pile up due to great intervals between the tests, it was actually a breeze to review if one would take down notes from his lectures. Indeed, his class was so relaxing that most of us had, at least in one point in the entire semester, dozed off to his still, small voice. On other occasions though, he had us up and alert with his life stories that he links to his Ethics lessons. What those lessons were, I'm not so sure anymore, but his stories I can still vividly recall...

-oOo-

On his being a philosophy professor, he recalls the time when he was about to graduate. I'm not sure about the details, but it appeared that he had an immersion in a community of indigenous people somewhere in Northern Luzon. He lived with them and taught their children, and he felt fulfilled. Later, when he was back in Manila, he got a job offer from Procter & Gamble (a managerial position perhaps). It came with generous compensation that would make him well-off for the rest of his life. However, in his heart he yearned for the fulfillment he felt in his short stint in teaching. He confided his dilemma to a Jesuit teacher of his, and the priest asked him what he would think of a life of "selling soap" and the rest was history.

-oOo-

Mr. R once had a French girlfriend when he was studying in France. She was blonde, fair and beautiful, but what troubled this teacher of mine was that she was a bit taller than him. It was because in his family, the men would be consistently taller than the women. He went on with the dates, dinners and all those relationship stuff with this nagging quirk of his. Why was it that she, almost the perfect girlfriend, had to be taller than him?

At one point his girlfriend was already entertaining thoughts of marriage. She was willing to undergo surgery to be shorter than him! Even her father had approached him. "I want you to marry my daughter," the old man said.

Mr. R replied, "I'm sorry, monsieur, I can't." Just because she was taller than him.

-oOo-

Still in France, Mr. R had a terror teacher for one of his philosophy subjects. In European universities then, the teaching style was to hold lectures and provide reading assignments throughout the entire term and the student will be grilled in the final exams. A whole month was devoted to the finals and the students would sign up for their preferred schedule.

Mr. R strategized that he should sign up with the terror teacher as his last exam, so that he had all the time to prepare for the encounter. However, upon re-checking his schedule, it turned out that he actually had to take the unwanted teacher's exam first!

It was a common practice then that the French professors hold exams at their homes, and so he went to this teacher's house for his oral test. The resident had just finished his morning rituals when he led the timid and nervous student that is Mr. R to his home office, where there was a pet canary at one corner. The older students had told him to hope that the bird would sing a pleasant tune during the exam. This would put the usually gruff professor in a good mood that would consequently result to a passing grade.

"First question," the professor began (the test was in French), "what kind of man are you?"

Mr. R, frightened at that time, hurriedly wracked his brains to recall everything he learned in the Philosophy of the Human Person. He muttered the beginning of a lengthy spiel, "s-starting off with S-Socrates..."

The examiner banged his fist! "No, no, no!" He growled. Mr. R was beyond horrified.

The professor repeated: "What kind of man are you? Are you Chinese? Japanese?"

"I-I'm Filipino, sir," he answered with great relief.

"Ah, the Philippines. You do happen to have a pineapple party after the finals, don't you?"

Incredulous as the student was to the query, he could only answer in the affirmative.

The real test followed, and the canary did sing a wonderful tune. Later on, though, Mr. R would be unsure whether it was on his own brilliance or the assistance of the canary that he had made the passing mark.

CLICK HERE FOR THE REST OF THE ENTRY COLLAPSE ENTRY

ABNGTTGLOGN Blogger Ko!

Kakaiba talaga ang bumulaga ba naman sa akin nang tinungo ko ang website ng Blogger. Aba! Ang Blogger ay ispokening piso! Bahagyang baluktot man ang pagka-salin (dahil literal o kaya'y gumamit ng program na pangsalin) ito'y kyut para sa akin. Kung may oras pa ako, marahil itong template kong ito ay isalin ko rin sa Tagalog. Ngunit sadya akong tinatamad ngayon. Kung hindi lang dito sa pagbabagong ito e marahil sa katapusan ng linggong ito pa ako makakalathala ng bagong sulatin.

-oOo-

Garo maray kun an IP address nagtatao kan pinaka-eksaktong lokasyones, bako lang itong kun aring nasyon kita haen kundi pati itong ronga ta. Maurag baga kun sa Bikol ako, ma-Bikol man an Blogger.

-oOo-

Bitaw gyud! (Gamay lang kabalo ko Binisaya. Samuk!)

-oOo-

Hablo y escribo en español un poco tambien, pero tengo que escribir para un demonstracion de mi abilidades, jeje.

-oOo-

Ah crap, enough with this Babel of a post. Feel free to point out my shortcomings in these languages. Admittedly, I write best in English. Besides, my MS Word can only check English.

CLICK HERE FOR THE REST OF THE ENTRY COLLAPSE ENTRY

Naga at Random - In the City

A quick glance at my sidebar shows how long I've been counting up since Election Day. As of this writing it's been about 24 days and only ten senators have been proclaimed so far.

-oOo-

One of the activities I assigned to myself in my trip back in the home city was to monitor the local elections. My past entry had presented the background for this: on a widely-criticized decision from the local Comelec Division, the Villafuerte camp, whose politicians were contesting key political positions in Naga and Camarines Sur, had managed to succeed in troubling Naga's favorite mayor Jesse Robredo, with a citizenship issue that had failed many times in the past. I was expecting Naga to be a little bit more abuzz than usual with this new development. Instead, it was business as usual in the city. Those I had asked would say Robredo shall win and they say it in a calm and confident manner, no worries at all.

Well, if there was one barely exciting event, it was a fairly massive motorcade organized by the Villafuertes that snaked from their headquarters to the downtown plaza a kilometer away. Ferried by the vehicles was an obvious non-Nagueño hakot crowd carrying placards screaming disgusting sacrilegious nonsense like "Abang Mabulo supports Villafuerte." Surely, those caught in the ensuing traffic jam must have cursed the Villafuertes to hell many times over.

It's still debatable, though, whether the old man Villafuerte would care about his afterlife, but his son Jojo was surely politically damned in the ensuing city elections. To the further chagrin of the elder Villafuerte, the renegade son L-ray was re-elected as governor of Camarines Sur (the people of the province recognized, at the very least, that L-ray had improved tourism with the CamSur Watersports Complex). As a consolation, the old man Luis also retained his spot in Congress, and judging from his appearances in news stories, he currently seemed more interested in pursuing his national ambitions.

It seems all's well that ends well as the status quo is maintained, but what worries me is how the Villafuerte's political clout had suddenly strengthened, notwithstanding the apparent schism of the governor-son from the patriarch. In fact, even though Robredo won with a huge margin, it still took skilled bureaucratic acrobatics from a few good persons to outmaneuver moves to prevent a proclamation, and I'm damn proud that Nagueños are capable of standing by their principles and, more impressively, of keeping cool and refusing taunts that could spark civil unrest. However, what would prevent the Villafuertes from raising another issue against the mayor, or stifling government funds, even those for disaster relief? Clearly, typhoons are not the only challenges to Naga's development boom (recently affirmed with a soon-to-rise SM mall, the first in Bicol).

It would be such a tragedy to reverse efforts to make the local bureaucracy a well-oiled machine. For instance, I liked it that my transactions at the Naga SSS office to apply for an ID took less than an hour even with a lot of people there. Also, it would really hurt if the commercial development popping left and right would suddenly find a less conducive business environment. I would not want thriving spots downtown (called centro by the locals) return to the idle lots that they were five years ago.

-oOo-

Okay enough with the seriousness.

Speaking of the new commercial spots, I'd first like to comment on one edifice that catches my attention everytime I pass it by. And no, I don't quite mean it as a good thing. I can't help but make a second look because its facade is a small-scale replica of the one in Greenbelt 3. Aw, come on! Greenbelt 3 is Greenbelt 3, and imitating its facade is not impressive but tacky! In the first place, there won't be any patrons in there that's as high brow as in Greenbelt. Besides, I don't think conservative Naga is ready for commercialism as blatant and wanton as in Metro Manila. Actually, one Metro Manila is enough; I wouldn't want to come home to another one. A place could be cosmopolitan without losing its identity. Thankfully this aberration is just found in one city block (or maybe I haven't gone around that much).

And then there's CamSur Watersports Complex. If Mo Twister hears about this (perhaps he already did), he'll be riled up like he always does about "Bora." He does have a point about the abbreviation of Boracay: there's such a place called Bora Bora and it's not in the Philippines, so alluding to this foreign beach (again, tacky) does not help local tourism one bit. Now unlike the one-syllable-longer-than-Bora "Boracay," "Camarines Sur" is indeed a mouthful (not to mention it eats up texting space at 13 characters long.). I may excuse it in text messages, but I'd prefer that the name of the province be said in full. The people from that place have grown up calling it "Camarines Sur" even back when it's just a nondescript province that one passes by on the way to Mt. Mayon as well as the province that gets mentioned in typhoon reports. Oh, so it's like a transformation: with newfound "glamour," the province is now called CamSur?

I also passed by the well-known Avenue Square (temporary link because the main URL has expired) along Magsaysay Avenue. Currently lording over the strip of restaurants, Avenue Square boasts of the hottest gigs in the city, drawing in celebrities like Parokya ni Edgar, Brownman Revival, Heart and Echo, Imago as well as wholesome Spongebob to scandalous FHM models. (Are they cover girls or just extras? This shows that I haven't read the magazine for a long while.) Pictures over the Internet give me the impression that this prime location in Naga could be what Metrowalk is for Pasig (heck, locals are proud enough to compare it to Greenbelt, again Greenbelt). However, it was the afternoon of Election Day when I passed by, so all I saw was a plain two-storey building housing new-in-Naga establishments half-full with customers (some enjoying free WiFi). Maybe I should drop by again in a full-blown gig and see Avenue Square in all its pimped-up glory.

CLICK HERE FOR THE REST OF THE ENTRY COLLAPSE ENTRY

Naga at Random - In Transit

As stated in my previous entry, I went to Naga City last election weekend. I kept my senses alert in order to observe the political drama that was unfolding there, but I got to absorb more stuff and generate more thoughts than I expected. Not a problem though, as they would all be blog fodder.

I went to my home city by bus, as I usually do. It was an eight-hour trip on the average, so a lot can happen in that period of time. One such unfortunate event was of the bus breaking down in the middle of nowhere. Back in college, I did have a fair share of this kind of misadventures. I remember one morning, when we were on our last leg of the journey to Naga, smoke was suddenly emanating from the underbelly of the vehicle and was filling up the interior. It got to the point that I was breathing through the aircon vent. There's a little exaggeration there, but you get the point.

Speaking of air conditioning, I can't tolerate the frigid temperatures; I prefer the air cool, not cold. Better yet, I'd open the windows; there are some parts in Quezon province where the air is good that you'd wonder how you survive the Metro pollution. I hear there's some sort of pollution field around Metro Manila wherein once inside, the temperature suddenly jumps and the breathing isn't as relaxing as in the countryside (ah the smell of trees and fields and manure).

Back to the broken down buses, those second-hand buses from Japan. In college, I rode Highway Express, said to be the pioneer of the CR-in-the-bus. I put up with the sudden repairs in some desolate location because, as far as I know, they had safety-conscious (slow) drivers. Compare that to speed-crazy Philtranco whose buses would cut the trip to Naga down to six hours or cut short your life. We once passed by two Philtranco buses that bumped into each other somewhere in Quezon province. What's with the need for speed? In night trips, I don't need to arrive early; I prefer that I arrive in either Naga or Cubao with the sun already shining. By that time, the MRT and LRT are already open and jeepneys are plying their routes; thus, I am no longer at the mercy of taxi and tricycle drivers who charge "special" nighttime rates.

Moving on, I guess the frequent repairs and mounting customer dissatisfaction took its toll on Highway Express, and the company closed shop by the time I graduated. I now ride Isarog, another slow-driving bus line. They seem to focus on comfort although I have yet to ride their bus with the Lazy Boy seats.

Their buses break down too, as what I experienced in this recent trip to Naga. I was originally reserved for the single-seater bus, but due to some mechanical failure, the vehicle didn't make it to Cubao. We unlucky passengers were transferred to a double-seater with jump seats at the aisle for that added cramped feeling. Knowing that sitting on jump seats are never comfortable, much less sleep inducing, I was still fortunate to be assigned a normal seat by the aisle. However, assigned to the jump seat beside me was this middle-aged lady. Now, I would just be tormented if I did not show some care, so I offered to exchange seats. She kindly declined. Chivalry is dead. Or perhaps she merely judged herself hardier than this young man with a skeletal build. During the trip, the bus had to make a few stops for impromptu repairs, so much for being a replacement. It crossed my mind to demand a refund, but I am too merciful for my own good, a sad day for consumer rights, to think that the daughter of the owner had been my classmate in a college elective.

All these delays expectedly made the sun rise on our trip while still three towns away from Naga. Heck, we even managed to snag traffic when the bus broke down in the middle of a one-way passage. Now how the heck would the National Highway become one-way? Blame it on the last-minute roadwork courtesy of the local politician who hopes to get re-elected. One consolation was that we arrived to a city that was wide awake, and I got to ride the jeepney instead of a rip-off tricycle.

Speaking of jeepney rides, it seems that after two years of daily commuting to work via the jeepney, I have gotten used to them. Thus on the day of my arrival, instead of resting, I was on the road to places I shall write about in my next post. Add to that the destinations I have reached on foot, an indication that this young man with a skeletal build does have a great walking range or that the big city of his childhood has shrunk in scale in the perspective of the Manila-based grown-up.

On the trip back to Manila, I rode the Amihan bus. In the process of shifting gears to move out of the Naga City Integrated Bus Terminal, the engine just died on us, and the driver had difficulty restarting it! I was about to decide that this break down took the cake among those I had experienced, but the advantage of being in the terminal meant that help was immediate. The engine woes proved to be a minor hiccup as we commenced into a smooth trip through light traffic. This was a day trip, so I got to see Lamon Bay (pictured here) while going through the Quezon towns of Gumaca and Atimonan, arguably one of the major highlights of the trip (it's even more dramatic when going the other way, towards Naga, since at Atimonan, the road descends and opens into a view of the bay, just like in the movies).

Lastly, a Naga-Manila trip's not complete without witnessing "road kill" like the two unfortunate Philtranco buses I mentioned earlier. Well in this trip I saw one right before entering the South Superhighway. A small truck rammed into a roadside Laguna residence, and the carnage seemed fresh because the pedestrian kibitzers were still gawking at the dazed and bloodied driver inside the wreck. Our bus conductor and driver discussed the victim's fate, with one of them declaring that an amputation of both legs would be inevitable.

Pabaon / For the road:

While I ride the bus occasionally, my friend Arlene commutes to work everyday in this mode of public transport. Expectedly, she has a fair share of bus tales starting with this one.

More info on going to Naga is found in the city tourism site. There's a link to an updated PDF file for trip schedules and rates. I also got the map of Camarines Sur in another of its links.

CLICK HERE FOR THE REST OF THE ENTRY COLLAPSE ENTRY

Drifting Thoughts 04

Last Saturday, I was supposed to go out with some DS people for a rare bonding session. It was to be held somewhere in Pasig, in an area I'm not familiar with. I was to test my "pathfinder" skills: the ability to go to an unfamiliar place primarily by using a map and, only if no other choice, asking the locals. Pasig was a notoriously difficult place for me, having been lost there twice, so I "cheated" by exploring the environs with my officemates when we had a lunch out the day before. Besides, the stakes were high this time since instead of just me, I had to accompany a friend going there (although I'd prefer getting lost with good company than getting lost alone). Well all these came to naught when the arbitrary quorum wasn't reached and the activity was cancelled.

All was not lost however for my need to attend a get-together and to practice my path-finding skills. On that Saturday I did get to know of another gathering, this time with my course-mates, over at Quezon Avenue. All I needed to know was the general area starting from the MRT station. I found the destination after a long-distance walk, and had more than enough time to reward my efforts with a halo-halo and to still get restless by waiting for the others.

Our gathering was a sort of sending-off for two of our friends (a third one was absent) who'll be working overseas for a year. After a tasteless dinner at a place that's more apt for a drinking session, we sang until our throats (or just mine) felt sore at the nearby videoke and then made some celebrity sightings at Starbucks-ABS CBN (with no TV for a year, I really had no idea they are celebs; all of them looked ordinary to me).

On the way home at three in the morning, I passed by sidewalk vendors sleeping soundly while their wares are still on display. It was good to know that none among the passers-by picked up those unguarded items. Dear reader, cling on to this sign of hope while continuing with this entry.

-oOo-

Behold the editorial cartoon of the Inquirer last May 3. Were they merely being naive about military stuff, giving the Air Force a good-natured ribbing about its clunky widow-makers, or, now that the military has been somewhat humbled, were they displaying their anti-military bravado, which is reasonably fashionable nowadays? (By the way, the cartoon was badly drawn since the punch line would be read first; better if the kid and the general switch places.)

Let's get the facts straight. Back in the Vietnam War, the US Air Force has suffered Huey crashes from the hands of the Vietcong. How did the guerillas pull it off? Rocket-propelled grenades? Snipers? A well-aimed shot may work, but why waste precious ammunition when one can just lay a web of wires along the path of a low-flying helicopter a la Spiderman? Yup, these flying babies are vulnerable to things that can snag its whirling blades--dramatically reducing their lifting power or tragically diverting them towards a collision course. And yes, the pilots won't notice a menacing wire or string until it's right in front of them. In fact I was actually surprised that a Philippine Air Force official admitted that their Hueys have been "disabled" before by Mindanao rebels using the lowly kite.

More than the issue of antiquated military hardware due to corruption and incompetence, the media has overlooked the issue of safety. And when I mean safety, I do not just mean saving a soldier's life, I mean saving the lives of the flying public as well as those down below. You see, aside from helicopters the lowly kite may also get sucked into one of the engines of a 737 and jeopardize its take-off. It's a very probable scenario; since, like in Cebu, kites are being flown in the vicinity of airports, and while this is prohibited, the rule isn't being enforced. Why didn't the media hyped things up by emphasizing this more troubling possibility? They might be merely ignorant about these things. Or, given the election fever nowadays, are they more attracted to the chance of criticizing the corrupt and incompetent military, and by association, the administration? Unfortunately, the Air Force officer didn't help dispel the impression of incompetence, at least in PR skills, when he himself did not raise this safety issue when he was being interviewed.

-oOo-

Well, look what the Supreme Court has forced the Comelec to reveal: party-list nominees who are identified with the administration, and more than that, have spotty reputations.

The left is not exactly immaculate on the party-list issue. First, they also enjoy government funding in the form of pork barrel. Second, they have the support of the largest private army in this country: the NPA. Lastly, like any traditional politician, they want to horde party-list votes by attacking all the other parties they can discredit. Suddenly being pro-administration or even moderate or neutral is a mortal sin.

Considering that these leftist groups and the administration have been doing attacks and counter-attacks with each other, it would be better to just cancel out the parties identified with the two. One would still find more meaningful parties that are not that obnoxious or notorious but rather silently fulfilling their role in truly representing the marginalized.

-oOo-

Recent developments have troubled my home city. A Comelec Division had ruled on a complaint back in 2004 regarding Mayor Robredo's citizenship. It's an old, overused, futile attack against Robredo, but this time the camp of Luis Villafuerte managed to pull it off.

For the complete coverage, I present Willy Priles's blog. Focus links: Historical Background, Family Drama, Foreboding (see the last part), The Watershed Event. (There's supposed to be an entry where Willy speculates on the election plans A and B of both Villafuerte and Robredo, but I can't find it anymore. Is it deleted?)

I have long been planning to go home this summer. Having missed the opportunity during the unusually long Holy Week break, I suppose the election weekend would be a good alternative since the horde of travelers will not be that massive. But I never expect to come home to this summer tempest. Curiously though, this scandal had strengthened my desire to go back to Naga--perhaps due to the youthful "foolishness" of wanting to be where the action is.

I reply to this madness with a picture originally taken by Randy Villaflor, posted online by Willy, and crudely edited in MS Paint by yours truly:

CLICK HERE FOR THE REST OF THE ENTRY COLLAPSE ENTRY

Pilgrims Digress

Holy Thursday

We start our journey from the Naga Metropolitan Cathedral. It is six in the evening. Others have gone out ahead of us, but it is alright: time does not matter; getting there is what matters. We hope you are wearing your best walking shoes, for we will be spending the entire evening walking. Walking barefoot, though, will make you pious in the eyes of many. It will be helpful if you bring along water, snacks and even your dinner, unless you want to start fasting six hours in advance.

The saying that how ever long a procession is, it returns to its starting point does not apply here. First of all, this is not a procession where people bear a deified ikon around the town; although an air of solemnity still surround throngs of people walking in prayerful cadence. Indeed, we shall end up in another church in another municipality in another district.

We begin with a proud burst of energy: we noisily converse, sing, and laugh until the next municipality.

We then somber down and acquire the prevailing mood of our fellow pilgrims. It is rightly so, we think, for this is the Holy Week and Dios Jesucristo is about to die. The merriment of the Last Supper we had earlier gives way to the agonizing prayer at Gethsemane. Our garden is the National Highway and the surrounding farmlands, and our agony is the early onset of weariness. Like the three disciples, some would stop to rest, but most would start to pray. The latter we do an automated thumbing of rosary beads as we mumble away each Hail Mary in a mechanized yet eerily recognizable manner.

We must have walked more than five kilometers now. Our feet might be feeling sore but we trudge on; we feel our sins getting left behind with every step we took. More so if we do not have shoes and socks to impede their transmission from our body to the earth where they originated and where they shall end--burnt to a crisp in a never-ending infierno. It does not matter that we have not asked forgiveness from our neighbor, returned the things we have stolen, or repaired the things we have damaged. God has forgiven us and that is important.

We may buy water, food, and other things we suddenly feel needed from stores that have mysteriously sprouted along the highway. The Pinoy entrepreneur is there where the business is good, as what is done in fiestas and other religious events: inserting Money and Materialism among the other gods being worshipped, even creating other gods like Wine, Gambling and Vanity among others. We might manage, though, to be spared from offering to the Money God when some altruistic mayor or congressman hoping to be re-elected comes up with action centers or task forces providing free cold drinks, restrooms and first aid.

While we are in the middle of our journey, we may as well go sight-seeing. All too often, we shall see drinkers raising their glasses in praise of the Wine God as they indulge in an extended Last Supper--a last supper indeed for some, whose souls will be displaced from their bodies by the spirits of the alcohol. Some pay homage to the God of Gambling, where it is not only Christ’s cloth that is at stake. Others sing the pilgrims on, while others simply do not care as they sit mesmerized by the God of Entertainment residing in the TV.

We finally enter Calabanga, the destination municipality, and our hearts are gladdened. The atmosphere is festive, similar to the finish line in a marathon race. Others do treat this as a race, speeding up and overtaking lots of exhausted pilgrims. Tough walkers that they are, it is because they know what lies ahead: a kilometer long line of pilgrims desiring to have an audience with the King of kings. To stop as we fall in line is a welcome rest for our weary legs. Then we wait for more than an hour until we can enter an antiquated kapilya.

Finally, we see Him. There He lays--a lifeless wooden body dressed up in fine burial clothes, yet capable of giving blessings and grace. We view Him like that of our departed loved ones. We may pray, weep, then we kiss Him goodbye.

Our bodies are weakened but we are cleansed from sin. We are happy to see Him.

Good Friday

We now go to a friend’s residence nearby. He is expecting us as well as other visitors. He has prepared food and refreshments for all. Some of us may rest our tired bodies on his sofa and fall asleep. Others may keep vigil and tell stories to keep each other awake.

It is past midnight now, but Calabanga is still wide awake, still expecting more pilgrims. A midnight procession is taking place with rowdy boys in center stage. Jeepneys are taking some pilgrims back home. Earlier, they also took into the municipality some pilgrims who consider the sin-cleansing walk unnecessary.

Those who slept wake up to a fine sunny morning while those who kept vigil struggle with their last remaining strength to keep awake. We initially hesitate in accepting our host’s invitation for breakfast before we eagerly partake everything he offered.

To push the boundaries of holiness, some of us will choose to walk their way back home while most would ride the jeepney, discovering that, upon the influence of the Money God who seems to be powerful as Christ dies, the fares are higher than usual.

Along the way home, we see Him again. This time he is alive and in flesh and blood. We see him carrying His cross trudging to an unknown Calvary. He wears a crown of thorns that draw blood from his head. His hair is disheveled, partly hiding a bloodied face filled with sorrow and torment, although he tries futilely not to show these emotions. His white blood-stained robe is torn, exposing a whipped back. Skin has been peeled off His elbows and knees indicating that the sturdy cross has imposed its weight upon Him more than three times now.

Behind Him are ten men and two women dressed in similar fashion brandishing spiked whips. But they are not the Roman soldiers forcing Him to move on (it is the horrible sins committed that is whipping Him forward). They too are trying to hide their agony as they whip themselves at their backs in a synchronized ritual.

The scene of self-inflicted, self-righteous suffering is a sight to behold. But there is neither Roman-Jewish crowd jeering nor women wailing for Him. Some do stare dumbfounded, some wince in sympathy, while most go on with their business. Could this apathy be more painful than the jeers, their suffering in reparation not acknowledged?

One Caucasian excitedly operates his camcorder. When he returns home, he will sell his video footage to some reality program for the whole world to gawk at it all and come and see for themselves. Thus, next year, to the delight of Dick Gordon, we shall accommodate in our group excited Westerners eager to have their innocent minds full of the ideals of human rights blemished by the sight of holy gore, WOW Philippines!

(Note: This was first written in November 2003, based on the pilgrimage to Amang Inulid, the image of the dead Christ, in Calabanga, Camarines Sur. This tradition, although long-running, is not officially sanctioned by the Archdiocese of Caceres.)

Picture Credits:
Naga Metropolitan Cathedral from www.stvictor.org
Cristo and flaggelants from Sidney

CLICK HERE FOR THE REST OF THE ENTRY COLLAPSE ENTRY

Quote Explicit

Happy V-day everyone! I'll share with you this love quote I have translated from English to Bicol. I have appreciated how this particular translation got the vernacular impact while having some sort of rhyming to boot. I liked it so much that I have forgotten the exact words of the English original! Perhaps my fellow Bicolano bloggers under the "Ma-orag Ini" links can provide the original quote.

An pagkamoot
Garo mabatang atot:
Kun pogolon abang kulog,
Kun pal'wason abang kusog.

Why this particular quote, you may ask? Well, let's just say I was down last Monday with a nasty case of food poisoning, and I'm still reeling from its effects until now.

CLICK HERE FOR THE REST OF THE ENTRY COLLAPSE ENTRY

One Last Random Dump of 2006 Stuff -- The Christmas That Was

From mosquito kill counts to carolers to adventures in a motel and a race track...

Digression: mosquito kill count

two nights ago = 7 sighted, 6 killed
rating: Raid, keeps mosquitoes (thud) dead.

last night = 5 sighted, 5 killed
rating: Dreygohwn Khetowl, bhestah lehmowk teypowk!

What curse has fallen upon us? Last weekend marked the start of an invasion of mosquitos in our unit. It's a strange phenomenon, considering that for the past three months that we started living here, we have almost no flying, whining visitor. Now, not even the afternoon spraying of Baygon could deter them. That's why whenever I see them, I transform into a combination of the Incredible Hulk and the Amazing Spiderman: aside from enhancing the already-occurring Tobey Maguire geeky cuteness and Eric Bana angsty passion (minus the muscles, sad), these pests have provoked my spider-sense, sharpened my spider-like reflexes and fueled the raging urge to kill them all in a rampage.

-oOo-

Applied effective begging

The carolers were at it last Christmas, and I was on my toes dodging them. On one occasion, I espied carolers at the upper floors of our apartment. Instead of proceeding to our unit, I stayed at a lower floor, staring outside, waiting for them to come down. To my annoyance, they lingered at my back instead. One of them finally said, "kantahan na lang natin si kuya dito," then they started their modest singing. I asked them if they had sung at the units on this floor. The one on the left had given them something, they replied, but the one on the right had no one home. I said the generous unit's offer should suffice. They asked me if I was from that unit. I lied pointblank and they knew. However, I insisted, so they left empty-handed. In hindsight, I should've given them something since, at least they still have genuine smiles and enthusiasm. In fact they were slightly better than this one caroler who cornered me in our unit one afternoon earlier. He gave me an envelope, saying that he was from some youth group, and then started a dominantly nasal rendition of perhaps their original Christmas composition. I winced some more when I saw his strained effort to smile. I scanned the envelope for some semblance of legitimacy like organization name, address and phone number, but all I saw was a long Christmas verse I did not bother to read. But since I noticed that his companions were also singing in the lower floors, I, having done some organized "begging" before, gave him a piddling 20 pesos to shoo him away.

I'm a Scrooge therefore? I beg to disagree: I am merely disappointed. Disappointed that the majority of carolers now do not recognize their unwritten duty to uplift, entertain or infuse into the fortunate listener of the Spirit of Christmas. Sadly, the smelly, breathy monotone I hear from kids--from kids, of all the people here on earth!--does the contrary. Please! It's Christmas, keep your depression and despair to yourself!

(Suddenly my conscience whispers, "then do something to remove their despair." And I know it's not about giving them a huge amount. That's like rewarding their current depressed behavior. I know it has to be something else...)

-oOo-

Christmas mini-adventures with officemates

Inside Victoria Court Pasig: I thought it was a strange, perverted activity to do in a motel, but there we were, all 30 of us, men and women, young and old, all raring to do the act. We deviants might have been a sight to behold to the usual couple finding a room for a little tryst. Our collective prying eyes must've made them zoom their car into their room's garage, the door immediately covered so that their persons will not be seen alighting from their vehicle. Privacy Guaranteed, Shh. The usual couple would value this business proposition, but we do the taboo by throwing it to the air, like me sharing things here in my blog. Some are even ready with their cameras. So what did we do? We succumbed to our primal urges. We splurged on food, liquor, and the videoke. The older ones sang their videoke piece while gyrating inside a cage amidst our lusty cheers. Some satisfied their need to rest by wantonly lying on the circular bed. Our material desires were met with raffle prizes. That's it. Now what primal urge were you thinking about?

Go-Kart Racing at The Fort: I was leisurely driving around the course when--BAM!--somebody considered me too slow and bumped me hoping that it would induce more kinetic energy within me. What the...! Oh, yeah, this was supposed to be a race. We were clumsy, bumpy amateurs frequently pulling over for some driving "seminar." When our time was up, a caretaker sought out one particular kart driver who turns out to be me, and told me, in a low and serious tone, that I nearly got him back there in the course. Honestly, I didn't know what he was talking about; things were all whizzing by at 20 kph. Maybe I should've told him I was dizzy from my own driving, at least he might laugh (or he might actually lose it and sucker punch me while shouting to the whole world what a murderous incompetent bastard I am). It's doubly embarrassing given the fact that before our turn, a bunch of pros (I think) showed us how it's done, with all the excitement of neck-to-neck aggressive racing, sharp turns and the occasional acrobatics. And when these racers emerged from their karts, we discovered that, dammit, they were grade school kids!

-oOo-

A blessed new year to all you readers and may the spirit of Christmas still be with you all throughout the year! Salamat Sa Tumatangkilik (SST)!


Other parts of the series:
First dump Second dump

CLICK HERE FOR THE REST OF THE ENTRY COLLAPSE ENTRY

Remembrance of the Wave

It might have been noticeable that, aside from revealing my fascination for the End Times, I have delved in Apocalyptic themes recently. It happens whenever I'm pissed off enough to rant. I guess, in my helplessness, I resort to the eschatological and seek the ultimate justice. Before everyone gets fed up with this fear-mongering, allow me one last venture into the supernatural, at least for this year.

Last November 13, 2004, I received a forwarded email, the screenshot of which is shown below...


Well, at first glance it looks like one of those dire predictions of the future. By the way, part of that email, which isn't shown anymore, is an article from Phivolcs. This more scientific earthquake projection which coincided with the prediction is what pushed the original author to finally spread the word. What impresses me is that the prediction imposes a deadline: before the year 2004 ends, there will be a great earthquake that will devastate the Philippines, or Luzon to be a bit more precise. Furthermore, there is the claim: the old man has never missed.

I initially surmised that this should be a very strong earthquake, stronger than any other quake before it, to topple down every building in an area and erase an entire town from the map. Anyway, I shrugged, if ever it would happen by the end of the year, I might already be vacationing in Bicol; thus, I would be spared from its full force.

The old man was off by a few thousands of kilometers, and I was more precise with the timing of the event.

I was eating breakfast at our Naga City home when news of a magnitude 9 tremor from CNN Breaking News got my attention. A magnitude 9 earthquake was really strong, the strongest I had heard of in my twenty years on this earth; still, I didn't think this can flatten all buildings within its area. That may be true, but there was something else that I hadn't thought of. Hours later, CNN reported of a tsunami from that quake hitting Thailand and Malaysia, and later still in the afternoon, the same tsunami hit India. Upon the news anchor's query, the scientist at the US Geological Survey related this recent turn-of-events to a Pacific-wide tsunami decades ago. That was the time I had an inkling that this was something big. Later, the waves reached Africa.

The days passed and the kill count grew from hundreds to thousands to tens of thousands. Now it was really big. More than a week later, with the kill count pushing a hundred thousand, ground zero was finally reached by rescuers. As shown in before-and-after satellite pictures, the town of Banda Aceh was in complete ruins, erased from the map as the old man had said.

I guess the old man really did see beforehand these visions I saw in the TV screen. It was just he mistook the similar-looking Southeast Asian faces and places to be Filipino.

CLICK HERE FOR THE REST OF THE ENTRY COLLAPSE ENTRY

Not Another End of the World

Ever since my father persuaded the family to read a series of newspaper articles pertaining to Marian prophecies and a coming "Three Days of Darkness" in an effort to make us turn away from our sinful ways, I had been fascinated by Apocalyptic scenarios (it helps when your father is alarmist especially when it comes to religion). A few years later, my most read part of the family Good News Bible is the Book of Revelations, followed by the Old Testament prophecies. I've read them enough to know that these writings are not really so much glimpses on the things to come but more of messages of hope for the victorious future amidst the present tribulations for keeping the faith. Besides, they don't really give out an exact date, merely signs. But what if there was a given date for destruction? More than that, what if different factors like religious, scientific, social, etc. suggesting various scenarios for the end all converge on that date?

Remember Y2K? I first learned about it in a 1995 article in that good old tech magazine Popular Mechanics. The writer was sharing how he was testing his personal computer (an ancient unknown model by today, I assume) by setting its date to a few minutes before January 1, 2000. While waiting for zero hour, he enumerated what the experts back then believe would happen to vulnerable computer systems when they encounter the year 2000. I don't remember the details anymore, but the fearful scenarios have been well-known even by then. It was due to these speculations that he became curious and wanted to test them himself. His computer was now seconds away from revealing the results...and it conked out. Oh well, he said, better start readying computers for that moment five years away. Yes, they know how to prevent it even back then, but humans are known procrastinators. To illustrate, after reading the article, I understood the principle of Y2K: that computers, processing only two digits for the year, will get confused upon encountering the year 2000 and might do crazy things because of this. However, that was a year before my computer subject in elementary, and not seeing much relevance back then (I was living a relatively low-tech lifestyle in the province), I brushed this knowledge aside.

It was only in 1998 that Y2K started capturing public attention. By this time, it has been colored with other Apocalyptic predictions ranging from Nostradamus, New Age prophets, the friendly neighborhood albularyo, and any other pundit whose story managed to get TV coverage or whose book managed to get published. (That's what happens when the media gets involved.) It turns out the thousand-year milestone has been a favorite end-of-times date. By around this time we get buzzwords like "Y2K compliant" as companies and other institutions rush to protect their computer systems and their business. Others would like to prepare for the inevitable end by stacking up supplies and preparing the bunker, or cave, or, to force the issue, performing rituals like mass suicide. Still, others would just like to party like there was no tomorrow. If the world was about to end, at least they would go down partying. Otherwise, it was a novel experience to do a countdown and watch 1999 turn into 2000. Novel enough for a big party, like what their predecessors did at the turn of the 20th century; thus, we had the millennium songs of Jennifer Lopez, Will Smith, and the Backstreet Boys (Incidentally, their songs and videos contain common themes like the future, the past, the Y2K bug, and, yes, parteeeh!).

Since January 1, 2000 was essentially New Year's Day, I am more inclined to the party aspect of things since it coincides with what I usually do around that time. Also, as seen in CNN, other countries were also preparing their own big celebrations. It came to pass that something global did happen in New Year's Day, but it wasn't a catastrophe. On the contrary, the world was one in partying. The last time the world was one in doing something was World War II. It appeared that the world has markedly improved on its ways, and, as the more optimistic people had predicted, the new millennium will usher in a new Renaissance for humanity.

Not.

Anyway, in the summer of year 2000, I was enjoying the Discovery Channel documentary Mysteries of the Ancient Civilizations. The documentary explored peculiar commonalities among the civilizations like the presence of pyramids, the alignment of structures with constellations, and the presence of a Great Flood myth, among many other themes. In the part about the South American civilizations, they featured the Mayan calendar. This calendar is said to rival the present-day Gregorian system in its efficiency and precision in recording the passage of time. One thing peculiar with the Mayan calendar is its having an end date, says the documentary, and this end date, believed by the Mayans to be the end of Time, ends on (at this point the documentary ups the ante by having the animated gears of the calendar stop one by one, each with a foreboding click) December 24, 2023 (the final gear ends with the most ominous thud).

Oh great, I said to myself, after Y2K, we have to contend with another supposedly "End of the World." By then I would be 39. I guess by that time I had enough experience in my life. Besides, as before, this one's too far away. In any case, I marked the date in my cellphone's calendar.

A few years later in college, I stumbled upon the book Domain by Steve Alten. So much for Discovery Channel dramatics, the book states the end of the particular Mayan calendar cycle is on December 21, 2012, the Winter Solstice of that year. The book is somewhat a written version of the Ancient Civilizations documentary since it also explores the commonalities of the civilizations. In addition to that, though, it provides a fictional answer to the questions surrounding the mystery. I won't spoil it for the prospective readers out there, but the book itself essentially gives it away from the very start, which in my opinion ruins the suspense. It was after reading the book that my interest in 2012 became aroused to the point that I would monitor and research about it every now and then. (The pervasive presence of the Internet, of course, was another factor.) So, what have I found out about it? Just like the year 2000, various sources have offered, some independent of other sources, various scenarios for 2012.

One may conclude that something would happen by around that time, but which scenario would prevail? As a man of science, with Astronomy being my favorite branch, I would point out to two events: one is an alignment of the center of the Milky Way Galaxy and the sun in the sky by December 21, 2012, the other is a heightened solar activity around that year. The former is as sure as the sun rising in the east every morning, while the latter is as sure as the weather prediction for the next few days. The heightened solar activity brings about solar storms. These storms, when headed directly to the Earth, are known to be destructive to technology, although previous encounters didn't produce heavy and lasting damage (But if the Internet is damaged, then it's the end of the blogging world. Catastrophic indeed.) The radiation it brings can also be lethal, but the Earth's surface is protected by the planet's magnetic field. Meanwhile, the alignment basically is just a curious configuration in the sky. As to what it can do to Earth, this one is open to speculation. For instance, a planetary alignment last May 5, 2000 caused a minor stir back then. Mostly it was just media hype. The people had just came from the Y2K non-catastrophe, and also the alignment wasn't really as perfect and spectacular as all the planets in the Solar System queuing up in straight line for a pose. And yes, nothing happened.

December 21, 2012 may indeed turn out a non-event as well. But some of us may do a Haruhi Suzumiya and wish that, for excitement's sake, something just happen to distract us from a humdrum, conflict-filled, angsty life on Earth. Perhaps another world party is in order. Besides, it's just a few days before Christmas anyway.

-oOo-

Links

The most comprehensive database I know of 2012-related stuff is found in Dire Gnosis. This site compiles anything and everything related to 2012, so, although the owner also provides reviews, an information overload warning is in order.

What can mere humans do in face of planetary cataclysm? It's not that easy to stop a galactic alignment compared to tinkering with computer systems. Well, we can wait for the completion of my inter-galactic space ship that will ferry us to the stars, but don't count on me finishing that one on time. Perhaps you may just wait for the aliens to come; although according to New-Age gurus, they may be a bit choosy, if they come in the first place. Instead of running away, isn't it better to face the problem head-on? Well, a group has thought of a way, which in theory, they claim, may be able to influence the cosmic order: humanity must unite, pun intended, to achieve Global Orgasm.

O-kaay.

Whatever happens, at least, when you start getting the media hype by, say 2010, you can tell them that you read it here first at Highway Drift.

CLICK HERE FOR THE REST OF THE ENTRY COLLAPSE ENTRY