Kumintang

i've moved!

2007-03-26T18:47:00.000+08:00

talangpula.livejournal.com

The Feast

2006-11-06T15:05:00.000+08:00

Problems.

Who doesn’t have them.

Problems are all I seem to be having these days. Chief among them is my wanting Peace for myself, which I keep telling everyone within earshot. Thank you all for listening. Haha.

It’s funny though, because those whom I seek to talk to- they all seem to be pointing me to Him. You know, Him.

Which is funny because, if I were more wont to, I'd be saying that He’s been talking to me a lot this past week, through them.

So I got to talking with my very good friend B16 and s/he tells me that s/he has this big problem; I say that I have this big problem too. S/he says that we could maybe go to this gig on Sunday. It might help ease us of our burdens. I say, “Okay.” (Maybe I could check my schedule.)

The night before the gig, Rebs of Hohums asked me to call. She was apparently very happy these days and she wanted to share it. Okay. I don’t know if it’s morally right for anyone to share his/ her happiness with another person who was depressed, but I called anyway. If I got to slitting my throat while she’s gushing smileys on my phone- I’m pinning everything on her.

Anyway, like I said, I called. (Rebs texted me her number just so that I won’t have any excuse not to.)

“Hello?”

“Oli! I’m so happy!”

I grabbed my knife. (Here we go.) “Talaga? Why are you happy?”

“I found Him.”

And she went on and on and on and on….

And I got around to wondering….

I don’t believe in signs, or rather, I don’t like believing in signs. Signs are for the lazy, those who don’t like thinking things through before they make a decision.

But I do believe in probability. When my whole life, I haven’t gone through a whole week where different people keep on talking about this one same thing, and this week, that exact same thing happens, then maybe I should be suspecting that something’s up. Something very odd is up.

All week long, people have been telling me that they’re happy because they found Him. And these are intelligent people. Something was very odd. Something was up.

So I decide to go to the gig. (I had nothing to lose.)

The gig is the Kerygma Feast, a monthly Fellowship held in the Camp Aguinaldo Theater.

B16 and I initially thought that the whole thing was only going to be a series of lectures. Turned out that a mass will be celebrated… there was also some singing… and, finally, there was Bo. We didn’t mind the mass (we were going to catch one of the masses at UP, anyway). We didn’t mind the singing. It’s just that we only went to the Feast because we wanted to hear Bo speak. And we did. Wow.

Bo is Bo Sanchez, the EIC of the Kerygma magazine. He’s also the Chair of Good Shepherd’s Voice Publications. And, finally, he a pretty damn effing good speaker.

Before Bo went on stage, there was much singing. And before that, the mass. But the singing is worth mentioning because, well, the mass is just a mass, while the singing, well- let’s just say that my initial reaction was: cripes, we have a theater-full of people on dope.

So people were singing, and some of them were jumping up and down while singing. Not a few were raising their hands and swaying while singing. Meanwhile, it was suddenly becoming clear to me that this was the so-called opiate of the masses. (It’s an entirely different animal when you experience it.) I hunkered down and thought, “What am I doing here?” I had a good mind to throttle B16. S/he said there was only going to be a talk.

But the whole thing was harmless. First of all, I wasn’t a stranger to prayer meetings and fellowships because my mother, who is a very religious woman, used to bring us to a few of them in the hopes of getting one of us hooked. None of us ever did. And anyway, Bo would later explain that the singing was to get all of us in the mood. It's there so that we can get into a happy mood. The reason for the joyous singing. Who wants to go to a somber prayer meeting? Okay. That made a lot of sense.

Then Bo went on stage.

I’ll leave out the details of his talk. Bo is better experienced than told of. God is better experienced than spoken of.

I went to the Feast in the throes of depression. I went out of it with renewed hope. We should do it again, sometime.

God is bigger than your problems. God is always with me.

2006-10-29T18:01:00.001+08:00

Panaginip ng Dukhang Nasasakdal

2006-10-25T20:31:00.000+08:00

"nasa'n ka nu'ng pinatay si policarpio? sagot!"

nakakatakut naman 'to. ganito ba'ng mga abugado? di na tuloy ako magtataka kung kinasusuklaman sila ng mga tao.

mga abugado! diyosko. heto't ginugulat ako ng isa sa kanilang kapatid. pilit pinipiga sa akin ang isang pag-aming wala namang kinalaman sa'kin. "nasa bahay po ako ni onyong nu'ng gabing 'yun, your highness." automatic na'ng sagot ko. ayoko nang makahulan pa ng asong ito.

abugado? abugago? asogado? asonggago? naku, paumanhin sa mga aso. wala silang ginawang mali upang ihambing ko sila dito sa hayup sa harap ko.

"nasa bahay ka ni onyong, 'ka mo? eh, way das it isteyt inda apidavit op yor pillow akyus dat yu wer wid jeprox wen yu kild policarpio?"

ano daw?

"objection, misleading."

aba, nag-object ang abugado ko! may silbi din pala'ng mokong na'to! si atty mokong- oo, Mokong talaga'ng apelyido niya- ay ang aking walang kuwentang PAO lawyer. ewan ko ba kung bakit pa'to binabayaran ng estado para tumulong sa mga inaapi. eh, mas lalo yata kaming naaapi, lalo ang mga dukhang tulad namin. tignan mo nga naman si mokong, nung i_assign sa'kin, ang unang sambit ba naman ay, "aminin mo na kasi na ikaw ang pumatay, para di na tayo mahirapan."

kung hindi lang ako hilo sa bugbog ng mga parak nu'n, eh binatukan ko na siya.

'tsaka, nangungulit pa ng delihensiya sa'kin si mokong! kasalanan ko ba kung pinanganak akong mahirap at hot monay na may keso lang ang maiaabot ko sa kanya. (dati, dinalhan ko siya ng 'sang lapad ng tanduay kaso, may prublema na daw sa atay niya. atay tayo diyan.)

"sustained. will the prosecutor please change the question." lumingon si judge sa clerk of court, "strike the question off the records."

salamat, judge. napangiti ako ng bigla. pag-asa ba'ng natatanaw ko? bumubuka yata'ng langit.

itong si judge, mukhang matalino. baka taga_UP. matitindi ang mga inggles niya. malupit. bilib ako. pero, sayang ang talino niya kung hahatulan ng mali ang isang inosenteng nasasakdal. sana mapansin niyang lokohan lang ang lahat ng ito. at sana, matalino man siya, sana hindi mas matalino ang bulsa niya keysa sa utak niya.

kinindatan ako ni atty mokong. ngunimiti. ayos ka, tsong. na_sustain nga'ng objection mo- aba, tiyakin mo na makakalaya ako.

"mr santos?' tinawag ako ni judge.

tatayo ba ako?

tutungo?

luluhod?

pa'no ba'ko sasagot? inggles? Filipino?

tumayo ako, "Yesser...?"

"gumising ka na."

ano daw?

"wake yourself up." malutong na inggles. malupit. "panaginip ito lahat, gumising ka!"

humalakhak si judge. pati si mokong, humahalakhak. lumalakas. mabibingi ako. tinakpan ko'ng mga tenga ko. nahuhulog ako. pumapaimbulog sa lupa. madilim. dumidilim.

minulat ko'ng aking mga mata. balot ako sa malamig na pawis. wala na ako sa sala ni judge. panaginip lang pala. nandito na ako- sa selda ko- bibitayin bukas.

Diyosko, alagaan mo'ng pamilya ko.

Flowers

2006-10-25T12:45:00.000+08:00

how do you pay your respects to a figurative grave?
give figurative flowers.
how do they differ from the real ones?
the real ones rot.

Live

2006-10-10T01:25:00.000+08:00

I’ve never really gotten why two people will go and sign a marriage contract. I mean, what’s the use of signing the contract and then, several years and kids later, after having tired of the other’s kinks and faults, after having gotten wind of the other’s secret vices and hitherto unknown bad habits, those same two people will suddenly wake up and realize that they hate each other’s guts and that they can’t stand one another.

Then, what either or both of them will do is look for happiness somewhere else, probably scarring their children emotionally in the process.

It happens to most everyone; everyone knows it. It’s like people have been handed a formula for disaster, but they go ahead and go through the process anyway.

And yet, having said all that- when, as in the movies, the hero will cross enemy lines and, braving the enemy, bullets whizzing by, with reckless disregard as to his own safety, rescue the one he loves- I’ll still go and shed a tear over it.

I’ll borrow a line from Flyboys (James Franco)- though the line is more an aphorism than it is an original, “You go and find your own meaning in war.” So with life.

When all of it seems senseless, the reality being that we are really only marching to our deaths, what we do is define what life is and what it should be about, to avoid pulling the trigger on our heads. Life is love. Or life is service. Or life is living.

Sigh.

For centuries, men have tried to figure out what life is. And yet the answer to that riddle, of what the meaning of life is, is as countless as there have been those of us who have lived and are living on this planet. We’re supposed to figure things out for ourselves and live.

Requiem. Have a meaningful life.

Back

2006-09-30T18:51:00.000+08:00

Yesterday, Pink texted me that, as she was packing her bags, she felt that even the weather seemed “melancholy”.

Melancholic. That’s what she probably meant. But who was I to judge grammar? Words are only tools men use to express themselves. So long as what was being said was understood, then there shouldn’t be too much of a fuss. If any given feeling, weather, mood, or whatnot is “melancholy,” then it probably is.

Just beyond Law (when you turn your head, you can still see glimpses of it). The Bar had just concluded; I’m finally feeling "melancholy".
Law school doesn’t afford you much time for emotion- save for the many times when you’ll be venting your frustrations on some innocent soul- that after the Bar, those pent up emotions threaten to engulf you. Where just a few weeks ago, you could just go and bury your head in codals and annotated books to escape from worries, nowadays we can’t seem to do anything else but face them.

I’m trying to get back to reading fiction. Much like the parts I’d already read and forgotten (currently, of Midnight’s Children), I can’t seem to recall the habit of reading text that is non-Law. (I’ve been reading Midnight_ for a year now, on and off). Though I know I’ll eventually get the hang of it. Again. Eventually. Because as I scanned the pages of my book, everything felt familiar, if even vaguely familiar. Like going back to a farm where you played and grew up in. The details are hazy, and the memories come in bits and pieces, but they come. and they engulf you in their warm embrace. They’re all of tender, loving feelings. Fuzzy. But familiar. Welcome.

Law pulls you away from the world. Now that it’s ended, well, I just hope everything’s still as I left them.

The Dichotomy

2006-07-11T00:46:00.000+08:00

Seems like I’ve been passing through a pet-peeve stage these past couple of days. My last (recent) stage was my ihatethedichotomybetweenmenandwomen phase.

A few weeks ago, a male friend (not me) sent me a text message asking me if it was okay for him to have coffee with a female officemate. Both the guy and the girl were, shall we say, Attached.

I replied, “Why not?”

I ask: Why is it that when we see a girl and a guy together, the first conclusion we’ll automatically come to is, they’re dating- which can have dire consequences when either or both of the parties are with someone else, present company excluded?

I guess maybe it’s because we’re wired to further the cause of evolution- to put it bluntly: to procreate- so we tend to think in terms of that framework ie, maybe there’s something going on between the two.

That doesn’t necessarily have to be the case. Why can’t two people of different sexes (or genders) go out because they’re friends? Nothing more. That’s it. And that there’s really nothing more to explain.

I remember my first week of college when I was mortified because the university was co-ed. Up until then, I’d spent my whole life with boys my age, having graduated from an all-boys’ school. I didn’t know how to talk to girls, much less how to behave in front of one- two million of them.

Then I realized that, hey, I shouldn’t be afraid of girls because what girls really are is that, well_ girls are just boys without dingdongs. (Okay, they're also boys without dingdongs and have boobs, but I wasn’t capable of thinking that yet because at 16, I hadn’t gotten on the puberty wagon yet.) It was an Enlightenment of sorts which I was lucky to stumble on. (Otherwise, I’d have been a hopeless recluse.)

The point?

Look inside. Men and women- we’re all made up of tissues. These tissues form into muscles and the different organs; these organs are supported and protected by the skeleton, etcetera, etcetera. Girls- guys, we’re the same. The only difference is that I and my friend are chock-full of testosterone and potato chips and beer (caffeine, for me), and my friend’s friend has estrogen and potato chips and beer in their stead. It’s a same-same all around.

Of course, if the missus is the jealous type… you really should avoid any situation where you’ll find yourself getting hit on the head with a vase thrown your way. All I can say is, I’m glad I’m single. Haha.

Blog down

2006-06-30T11:43:00.000+08:00

Uh-oh. Blog seems to be down. Why can't I open it? Argh.

I exist!

2006-06-26T11:48:00.000+08:00

Hindi pala ako singaw lang. I wasn’t just forced out of someone’s ass.

The first week of June, I went to the NSO to get a copy of my birth certificate. I needed it so that I can attach it to my petition to take the Bar. The thought of going to the NSO revolted me. I thought of long lines, and a crush of people. I’d be wasting the whole day falling in line, drenched in sweat, while I was swearing at the inefficient effing bureaucracy. I’d learn the day I went to the NSO that there was a semblance of efficiency after all. You were given a number the moment you went in. And there were chairs where you can sit down and watch teevee. And the guards, who were busy ushering and controlling the crowd- the guards were surprisingly polite.

You’d think that maybe, there is some hope for this country after all. The rub though, is that the reason why there is a throng of people at the NSO is because so many of them are wanting Out, to work in other countries or whatnot. You’ll need your birth certificate to apply for work abroad, I reckon. Or maybe to get a passport.

My classmates told me that there was a number I could call so that I can have my birth certificate delivered in three to something days. I didn’t entirely trust the service, and I thought I could get the darn thing the next day- read: quicker- if I just went to the NSO personally.

I didn’t get it the next day.

The guys at the counter told me that they couldn’t find a record of my birth in their vaults and that they’d have to conduct a manual search. I was to come back in three weeks. Maybe they’d have found it by then. Maybe.

So for a few days, I quietly doubted my existence….

Until finally I got the nerve to call and ask my mother, “I was wondering if you and Dad ever found a baby in a gutter, say, thirty years ago…?” Which was to say that I asked in a roundabout way if I was really their son or not. (Hah!) My mother quickly caught on and gave me a photocopy of my birth certificate, should I need it, she added. Okay. But I needed the government to affirm that I was for real.

A few days later, I went back to the NSO and got the certificates I applied for. Kudos to the NSO. It took a while, but you can plainly see that they’re trying their darndest to improve their services.

Moving Day

2006-06-15T22:53:00.000+08:00

Why is it that sometimes you have to get the general feeling that… life sucks? To say it in the colloquial.

Why can’t life be one smooth, uneventful ride, where all you’ll have to do is watch the rumps of several guys on bikes that are faster than your car pass your car. Yep, just sit down, lay back, and relax.

But you can’t do that. It’s not possible.

Sunday, I went to my mother’s, ostensibly, to pick up my books. My brother had just gotten married; they were going to move in to my old room in Makati.

So my mother was in my old place, supervising the cleanup (and doing a lot of the chores herself), begging me to please take my books. I relented after she warned me that once my brother and his bride take roost, I’ll have a harder time retrieving them (the books).

So I went.

Up until few years ago, I had a whole lot of books. A lot of them. They spanned every phase of book reading I got into. I had a Vietnam phase, an occult phase, a Hardy Boys phase, a sci-fi phase, etcetera. I didn’t get into a Classics phase, by the way. I don’t know what’s up with that.

After I moved to QC, so that I could be nearer the School, termites attacked my books- my helpless, defenseless little books. I suppose I should be lucky that they still left me with two shelves-full of books. In that case, I suppose they’re lucky I didn’t see them before I could torch their tiny book-eating little mouth… mandibles… jaws, whatever. Though I still can’t figure out why the books couldn’t defend themselves. I mean, there were a lot of them. And several of them were hard-bound, like my math and accounting books. All they had to do, really, was to band together and maybe crush the little buggers….

… where was I?

Ah, my books.

So I’d gone back to Makati to get my books.

I’d always loathed going back to Makati. Not that I was repulsed by the whole idea, and I don't really rue the place. As the resident nerd (one of two), I got beat up there a lot, by the local tambays. But the rest of the folks were generally okay…. I grew up there. Literally. Figuratively.

Maybe that’s why I hate it so much. Because being there, it always reminds me of how wonderful things used to be. If I could only bottle the past…. (I'd buy carpets and live there.)

Bottle the past, words which I texted to claude_girl. She replied that she loved the double entendre. Me, I didn’t get it. I kept on staring at the words. Bottle the past.

Oh.

Not that I’m a big drinker. I hate beer. It’s bitter.

I know. I’m probably the only person in the world who descended from the apes who hates beer. But there you go. I’m malt-ose/barley/whateverbeerismadeof-intolerant. Though I’d always appreciated hard liquor, something which I said to Nutmeg’s dad while he (the dad) was offering me beer.

“I only drink hard liquor, po.”

Silence. Then I heard it as he heard it. A teenager who doesn’t drink beer but drinks hard liquor. Hmmn. That'll improve my good image a good ways.

Speaking of which. I don’t really know if my parents knew that I drank a lot in college. Literally, in school. The School of Economics (Econ) had a back lot which was poorly lighted. Or maybe it wasn’t lighted at all. The light from Katipunan spilled on to it- which might explain why it was dark… I can’t recall….

Ah, well, the point was that it was dark. And we had the rounds of the security guards pegged to a tee.

Me: (Alarm ringing.) Hide the bottles! Quick!
Guard riding on a bike: (Passes the three of us by. Looks at us suspiciously.)
Us: (In unison) Hi, manong!

When he’s gone, we drink again. Oh, he’ll be back, but we’ll know when. Exactly. This guy was strictly OC, getting on his bike and doing the rounds every thirty minutes.

I stopped drinking after a sorry incident a few years after college. (It's actually funny in hindsight.) I lost consciousness in front of the office staff after drinking a whole bottle of Johnny Walker. (Don’t ask why.) The guys had to drive me home while I was spraying Chinese food in their car.

I couldn’t move for a week. It felt like whisky was running through my veins….

And there were a lot more memories. Boxes of them. I was channeling them while I was arranging my books in their own boxes. It kind of felt like I was moving - but in reverse. I was bringing my books with me to QC, where I now lived. I was lugging my memories back to me.

Boy, if we could only bottle the past…. Wait. I think I still have some whisky downstairs.

The Suns- and the Parking Boys

2006-05-29T20:46:00.000+08:00

Reviewing for the Bar. Okay, not really.

Hemorrhaging IQ, from doing nothing. I have three novels that are half-read, and I have codals which are- not read- and I’m having a nasty bout of ADS.

Oh, but that doesn't apply to the NBA Playoffs- which I follow religiously. Very early morning, I'm already camped in front of the teevee, waiting for tipoff. My brother walks by me before he leaves for work and tells me, everyday, how good it must be to be reviewing for the Bar. You get to watch TV much.

I scour web pages on my phone for news about the games, the teams, and the players. And I’m absolutely crazy over the Phoenix Suns. Their guys are small, their star player is injured for the season (Amare, good for 25something points a game, double digits in rebounding, and several wowowee dunks), and the player they acquired to replace him was injured midseason. Now, their primary – really, their sole enforcer, is out with a torn calf injury (the Suns aren’t really known for their defense). He’ll probably be done for the rest of this Season.

Where was I? Ah: small guys- their Center is 6’8”- they don’t play defense, and all they do is shoot threes, yet they’re in the Western Conference Finals. They probably won’t make it past this round (and move on to the NBA Finals) but, you have to hand it to them. Despite every setback, they’ve managed to get to where they were last year. I swear, they’ll be infinitely better next year. They're also the most fun team to watch. All they do is run and shoot.

Ginebra stuff. That’s why I’m hooked. Until Grant Hill plays again, if he isn’t retiring.

Next.

I got into a heated argument with one of those people who “guard” your car in parking lots. It was the University Grad; the only place where I could park my car was in that grassy area in front of Quezon Hall. I arrived early. Mine was the only car there. But when I was leaving, after the ceremony, this guy rapped on my window and asked for money for guarding my car.

I told him to give me a minute so that I can fix my things, and maybe look for change. He continued rapping on my window. I asked him to stop. He wouldn’t. I asked him again. He was very persistent. I was starting to become annoyed; then, I exploded. I opened my door and muttered what might have seemed to be an endless barrage of questions.

Bakit ang kulit mo?

Nagpabantay ba ako sa’yo?

Binantayan mo ba talaga?

Ni hindi mo nga ako tinulungang magParking dito, eh.

Baka naman kararating mo lang diyan pagpunta ko dito?

Etcetera etcetera. Then I left. In a hurry.

Car15, who was with me, was shocked. He didn’t think I was capable of flaring up.

Pet peeve, I explained, embarrased. I was already starting to calm down.

He looked like he was in good enough shape, I explained. Couldn’t he just look for some decent work? I didn’t ask him to guard my car, etcetera etcetera. But then again, those questions were easy for me to ask. That guy? He probably maybe did have a job. But maybe the money he was earning wasn’t enough, so he had to moonlight, or look for rackets. Godknows that what he was doing wasn’t illegal. And helping “guard” cars would be worlds better than robbing someone of his or her cellphone. With a knife. Or a gun.

It’s easy to ask- and be critical of others when you’re not involved in and/or living their lives.

NBA

2006-05-19T13:03:00.000+08:00

The LA Clippers force a Game 7.

That’s what my summer has been about, the NBA, particularly following the Phoenix Suns. Well, that and some sparse reading for the Bar. I guess my NBA for the moment has been No Bar At (all). Bad acronym, but it’s really hard keeping emotions in check when you’ve invested emotions into a team. And I think my IQ’s still out buying food- like it's been for the past month. I hope to get it back in time for the Bar.

The Suns overachieved this season, prompting the league to vote their point guard, Steve Nash, MVP for the second straight year. Less than ten people have won back-to-back MVP’s, among them, Tim Duncan, Michael Jordan, Magic Johnson, etc. But this guy from Canada somehow made it into that elite list.

Nash is short. He’s slow, he can’t jump, he can’t defend- but he’s won an MVP, and consecutive ones at that. Last year, he joined a team that was at the bottom of the league and he made them into winners. This year, their best player was injured for the season, and the player they got to replace their injured player was himself injured mid-season. And yet they still managed to win their division and clinch the second seed in the Western Conference. Wow.

In the first round of the playoffs, they were down 1-3 against the Kobe Bryant and the Lakers and still managed to win the seven game series. Now they’re in the second round and are about to face their division rival, the LA Clippers, in a seventh and deciding game. The winner will advance to the Western Conference Finals.

LK was telling me that she was happy that the series will go into a seventh game. More fun all around, I suppose. But I wasn’t happy at all. The Clippers are the tallest team in the league, and without their injured centers, the Suns are one of the smallest, if not the smallest team in the playoffs today. They won’t stand a chance against the Clips in a seventh game….

God wants me to panic

2006-04-27T13:57:00.000+08:00

If you'll ever need a panic person, I’m your guy.

My teevee went on the fritz two weeks ago, its picture suddenly going blank. Great. Must be God’s way of telling me to panic for the Bar this early.

What do you do when you suddenly have a TV that goes radio on you? I tried talking to it, asked it nicely to show me pictures. I tried threatening it. I tried seducing it with a lady TV. Nothing worked. In frustration, I gave it a whack at its back side. The picture came back.

But that was only for a week. And after a few hours, the picture would go off again. Maybe it suddenly decided that it needed a vacation. Maybe even just so that it could take away some stress. Last week, my TV decided that it wanted a permanent vacation. No amount of hitting made the picture come back. Since I decided that I don’t want to listen to TV sound all day, I called my father and told him that the TV’s broken. He answered, “Okay. I’ll buy you a new one.” (Yahoo.)

So, the universe will, every once in a while, apologize for giving you fits and do you favors. I personally thanked the Heavens. In my dreams. In real life, I don’t think I can get to heaven without forsaking… real life.

So my father had a Kolin teevee delivered to the house. After two days, it switched itself off. I couldn’t get it to turn on again. Maybe it joined my old teevee on a vacation. This was getting really annoying. It was as if the whole of TVDom decided that it wouldn’t let me watch teevee till maybe September, or maybe for the rest of my life. (I’ll make a report of this in November.) Maybe God did want me to panic for the Bar already, I don’t know.

Yesterday, I went to the store where my father bought the TV and asked that it be replaced. They agreed. It was a dead set, they told me. No amount of threatening will make it work. "What about seducing it with other TV’s?" I asked. I know they have plenty of slim women teevees in the store. Couldn't they maybe ask some of them to coax the new teevee out of its rest? Wait. No. Don’t call the asylum. I’m sane. I swear to god, look, there’s a teevee in a bikini right now, behind you. I swear.

Anyway, they were going to deliver the replacement teevee today…. Or they were supposed to deliver it today. It’s already one o’clock and it’s still not here.

I’m only anxious because I don’t have proof that I returned a defective TV and am asking and waiting for a replacement. Having just graduated from Law, you’d think that I would have asked for greater protection (as in making a contract, and having them sign several receipts). I didn’t. If they deny that they were obliged to deliver a replacement TV, I’d be dead in the water, and with hardly any shred of evidence.

Or maybe God just wants me to panic for the Bar right now. (Where is that blasted teevee anyway?)

Intramuros

2006-04-14T09:41:00.000+08:00

Two afternoons ago, I was agonizing over the fact that my friends decided to go to Intramuros Thursday (yesterday). I really wanted to go to Tagaytay.

In hindsight, I’m thanking the gods (God) for giving me such great friends.

Car15 said it best when he told the Prince of Darkness- henceforth, PDid- that I was more into the nature trip. And of course, I spent most of yesterday trying to sell another climb. The last time we made a climb was two years ago in Makiling. We were clearly long overdue for another, and since Sagada was clearly out of the question because my friends had to work on weekdays (I'm doing the Review, so I'll be relatively free until after September), I was thinking that maybe another climb to Makiling was possible. All we’d need was an overnight stay. (Isn’t there a three-day weekend coming up?)

We met at the Law parking lot at 0830. Very very early morning for a holiday.

It’s only 0830, mind you, because I told PDid in jest that maybe we should meet early, as opposed to meeting at our usual time of, well, the afternoon. My friends agreed, haha. I’d forgotten that we were all morning people.

After we’d exhausted our high-fives and our kamustas, P drove to Pasig to pick up B, then we headed for Intramuros.

The last time I was at Intramuros, we (the Team and I, for OLA, the Office of Legal Aid) were supposed to meet with our clients in the COMELEC building. Of course, it wasn’t the COMELEC building in Intramuros that we were supposed to go to- I’d understood the directions wrong- but there you go: the last time I set foot in the walled city. I mean, I’d gotten to see the Cathedral, but that was only for its parking area. That was it.

Yesterday, the traffic was very light. In fact, there a lot of Porsches careening happily about. "Di sila takut sa tansan ngayun," Car15 observed, guffawing. We parked near the Cathedral and promptly joined the throng doing the Bisita Iglesia.

Oh, but the bisita we were doing was remotely religious. We only wanted to do the rounds of the old Manila. In fact, a little while later, I nearly lost my temper at a 7-11 when this clerk refused to give me a phone card just because I didn’t have small change. I thought 7-11’s Should have change for big bills, I mean, they do have people coming and going and leaving them money and all. It was a good thing that PDid came to the rescue before I stormed out of the store. He had change for my P500. Anyway, doing the rounds, losing temper, equals hardly, maybe not at all, religious.

It’s amazing how Intramuros, that small piece of real estate, can connect you with your past and with your identity. Or not. Before the day ended, I quickly realized that we really haven’t our own identity, or, maybe it should be more apt to say that, we really don’t know who and what we are.

I remember that there was time when everyone seemed to want to talk about our possibly joining the US as one of its States. That was the vogue then. As if, by becoming Americans, we’d suddenly rid ourselves of our myriad of problems. Maybe it will; maybe it won’t. It’s just sad that we’ll want to look to others for solutions before we look to our own selves for the answers.

We clambered up the wall after the short stop at the local 7-11. The sun was beating down on us, but somehow it didn’t seem hot at all. I think it was the ocean breeze that prevented us from breaking into a terrific sweat. You thank god for small favors.

We looked at the cannons. We marveled at the thickness of the walls. The old lookouts all smell of piss, by the way. The City of Manila should take better care of the place.

After passing by the marker which marked 1 Victoria Street, where McArthur used to have his home, we sat down and thought that we could maybe play a game of Games of the Generals there. It would have been a fitting tribute to the General, by playing a game of strategy created by a Filipino, where an American general's home used to be. But there wasn’t a shaded area we could annex and play on.

By the way, PDid and Car15 were telling me that Intramuros was a better place when Dick Gordon was running Tourism. You pine for the good old days and wish that things stayed the same.

We walked by the old Ateneo compound and explored the ruins of the old Jesuit church. It sat across the street from where AdM used to be. Car15 reminded me that Rizal looked towards the spot where Ateneo was, before he was shot. I’m really not your history guy.

We walked towards Chowking, in front of the Cathedral. Maybe we could play Games of the Generals there? Nah. It was too crowded. I pointed to Max’s. That should do fine.

Walking towards the resto, we can’t help but notice the marker for the plaza fronting the Cathedral. First named for the King of Spain, then its name kept on changing depending on who our conquerors were. It’s kind of sad, really. There we were, looking for identity in the Old City of Manila, and all we could find were the chains that bound us to colonists. Maybe it’s high time we conquered ourselves for a change.

It shouldn't be wrong to ask

2006-03-28T17:11:00.000+08:00

In a fit of rage…. (If I have to… grabe, I should avoid reading newspapers. They only make my blood boil.)

What is happening?

Mind the facts. It is evident that the government is pushing for changing the constitution. Can somebody please tell me why?

Why do you want to change our system from presidential to parliamentary? Why? Because we’ll “join the ranks of the First World in twenty years”? What is your basis? Are you telling me that the US has a parliamentary system? It doesn’t. And it’s part of your so-called First World. Does this mean that we don’t actually need to change the Constitution so that we can be wealthier as a nation?

Is it true that you’ll want to allow foreigners to own Philippines land? Is it true?

Is it true that you’ll want to allow foreigners to own nationalized industries? Is it true?

Why don’t we just change the Constitution so that foreigners can own my body, soul, and spirit?

When I read the papers and see that barangays have been calling Assemblies to collect signatures for charter change, I can’t help but be mortified. Where are they getting the money to do this?

And please, don’t tell me that it’s not my station to ask. I pay my taxes. If my money is funding the agenda of a few (ie, amending the Charter), it is my right to know; it is my right to object. How much are they getting from me? 12 percent from VAT alone. I should be allowed even one question. I should be allowed even one answer.

And what do I think when I hear of a justice secretary who is quick to convict? I think that we don’t have justice at all. We don’t. Why will a justice secretary pick fights with one of the Commissioners who drafted the Constitution? Why will the justice secretary go and call him the Dean of Destabilization? Can’t we speak anymore? Aren’t we allowed to speak anymore? Tell me. Is that it? I’m not allowed to speak against you anymore? Ang kakapal niyo.

What are our primary concerns? All we’re just concerned with is: the Truth. All we’re asking is, is it true that the votes were not counted properly? We’re just asking. You can’t take that away from us. In a representative democracy, all we can do is vote. After that, we cede the sovereign power to our elected officials and go on about our daily lives. But you can’t abuse that power. It’s wrong.

And you know what? If there really wasn’t any hocus pocus, wouldn’t it be the easiest thing in the world to say that there was no hocus pocus? If the elections were clean, wouldn’t it be an easy thing to say they were?

We ask. We wonder. But what do you do to us? You call us destabilizers, you arrest us, you gag us, you threaten us. What do we have to do to make you stop?

The public office is a public trust. That's in the Constitution, in Article X, I think. What that means is, the People hold the true powers of the State; these powers are held in trust by our public officers. Now, trust, in law, is complicated and long winded. In common language, all trust means is just that. We trust you to care for these powers and to use it for our welfare. Because if the opposite happens, well, when and if you finally amend the Consitution, maybe we should just delete that provision all together.

Sure. The State has a right to protect itself, but who is the State? It’s not any one individual. The State isn’t the President. The State isn’t Congress. The State isn’t the judiciary. The State is us, Madame. It’s us. Us. Not the people who come to you in the dead of the night asking for favors. The State is the woman you see in the streets, sleeping in the dirt, dirtied, and without clothes. The State is the child who comes up to you and asks for alms. The State is the child who clambers up jeepneys and bends down to clean your shoes with soiled rags. The State is the farmer who can’t sell his produce in the market because of foreign competition.

Don’t deny us our democracy. It’s all we have.

Busy

2006-03-27T06:53:00.000+08:00

Whoa! I’ve been busy the whole month. Papers due, exams to cram for. It’s funny how all these things can take over a life, how they can obscure everything and keep them hidden in the shadows. Even my dreams- conspiring against me. I dream of blanks to be filled, and of essay answers to be written. My fingers cramp up when I wake.

My only consolation? Within a week: Peace. (If even for the moment.)

Conscience

2006-03-05T08:40:00.000+08:00

Proc 1017 was lifted last Friday. Are we back to normal?

Press Secretary Bunye says Emergency can be reimposed.
It seems that sedition charges are being filed against Olivares and several other columnists.

It’s becoming more and more apparent that 1017 was signed into existence to coerce the press into publishing only the Good News, like newspapers were the Bible. They're not. And the government today is hardly the Messiah this country needs and is wanting for.

Though I must admit that it’s amazing that we’re turning more and more to religion as we forge on. I can’t recall the last time the Church called for the Oratio Imperata. I do know that even atheists turn to prayer when they’re on the verge of death or are dying.

We’re not- dying. But our freedom to speak is. Although I won’t say that losing the freedom to speak isn’t equivalent to the former.

I don’t know why people should be all het up about other people speaking their minds to say how crappy a government is. You’d think they’d be ecstatic if they’re prohibited from saying that their government’s making their lives Heaven-On-Earth. Of course, since we’re supposedly a democracy, then maybe we should go and ask everyone if they’ve finally found paradise. Today. Here. If they have, then maybe we’ll all just keep quiet and keep our opinions to ourselves. Last I heard, my right to speak is guaranteed by the Constitution. Otherwise, my profs will have all been lying to us.

We're asking the Supreme Court to rule on the petitions to invalidate Proc 1017. Especially now that the government has made the justices' lives easier by lifting the Proc. It's probably the hardest thing in the world to nullify an Order of the President. Pressure at every turn. But now that the Executive herself has withdrawn it, then maybe the law should be properly heard. No pressure; it's already been withdrawn anyway.

The court has decided on cases in the past, even if they’ve already been held to be moot and academic. They may be moot, but they’re certainly more than academic.

In the case of Evelio Javier v COMELEC, the Court called itself the government's conscience. The court said…

"The abolition of the Batasang Pambansa and the disappearance of the office in dispute between the petitioner and the private respondents-both of whom have gone their separate ways-could be a convenient justification for dismissing the case. But there are larger issues involved that must be resolved now, once and for all, not only to dispel the legal ambiguities here raised. The more important purpose is to manifest in the clearest possible terms that this Court will not disregard and in effect condone wrong on the simplistic and tolerant pretext that the case has become moot and academic.

"The Supreme Court is not only the highest arbiter of legal questions but also the conscience of the government. The citizen comes to us in quest of law but we must also give him justice. The two are not always the same. There are times when we cannot grant the latter because the issue has been settled and decision is no longer possible according to the law. But there are also times when although the dispute has disappeared, as in this case, it nevertheless cries out to be resolved. Justice demands that we act then, not only for the vindication of the outraged right, though gone, but also for the guidance of as a restraint upon the future."

Let the conscience speak.

Next.

I don’t know why some people are saying that we’re overreacting when we go and compare the Proc to Martial Law. The name is different, sure, but even if we call something a rose it doesn’t mean that it is. Unless God Himself calls the thing a rose, then by golly, it Is a rose. But last I heard, God didn't run for and win office here.

We argue with facts, which Congressman Lagman is doing, by the way. Very enlightening speech.

If we’re afraid that the past is coming back to haunt us, that is our prerogative- fueled by instinct- honed by thousands of years of evolving. If we ignore it, we might as well consider ourselves extinct. Now. Here.

Finally.

The best way to quell people’s fears and doubts isn’t to go and tell them to shut up. Or to go and arrest them for them to shut up. You contain pressure and it can only explode. What you do is stick to your mandate, which is to care for All the people of this country- not only to those you’re indebted to- and… explain.

Proclamation 1017

2006-02-25T02:18:00.000+08:00

This isn’t the first time that Arroyo called out the armed forces pursuant to the Executive Power under Section 18, Article VII of the Constitution. The Supreme Court had occasion to rule on the same in the case of Sanlakas v Reyes (GRN 159085; February 2004).

The Sanlakas case delved on the President’s declaration of a State of Rebellion, in Proclamation No. 427, which was issued in the wake of what we now call the Oakwood Mutiny. The issue which the Court had to resolve was: Whether the President is authorized to declare a State of Rebellion.

The answer is YES. The Court ruled that… “the Commander-in-Chief powers are broad enough as it is and become more so when taken together with the provision on executive power and the presidential oath of office. Thus, the plenitude of the powers of the presidency equips the occupant with the means to address exigencies or threats which undermine the very existence of government or the integrity of the State”.

Point is, the President has the power to declare anything, especially since the Proclamation didn’t really do anything except proclaim to the world that there was a State of Rebellion in the country. The Court called it a superfluity. She didn’t need to Proclaim it. It was within her powers to declare such a State.

Okay, no problem. Anyway, the Court ruled on that issue when it was already moot and academic. The President had already declared that the State of Rebellion had ceased.

What about this Proclamation 1017 that was foisted on us Feb 24th? Again, its bases are: the Commander-in-Chief Powers of the President and the temporary takeover of businesses provision in Article XII of the Constitution. Let’s deal with those two in seriatim.

First, as to the Commander-n-Chief powers. Section 18, Article VII of the Constitution provides that:

Sec. 18. The President shall be the Commander-in-Chief of all armed forces of the Philippines and whenever it becomes necessary, he may call out such armed forces to prevent or suppress lawless violence, invasion or rebellion.... In case of invasion or rebellion, when the public safety requires it, he may, for a period not exceeding sixty days, suspend the privilege of the writ of habeas corpus or place the Philippines or any part thereof under martial law. Within forty-eight hours from the proclamation of martial law or the suspension of the writ of habeas corpus, the President shall submit a report in person or in writing to the Congress. The Congress, voting jointly, by a vote of at least a majority of all its Members in regular or special session, may revoke such proclamation or suspension, which revocation shall not be set aside by the President. Upon the initiative of the President, the Congress may, in the same manner, extend such proclamation or suspension for a period to be determined by the Congress, if the invasion or rebellion shall persist and public safety requires it.
The Congress, if not in session, shall, within twenty-four hours following such proclamation or suspension, convene in accordance with its rules without need of a call.
The Supreme Court may review, in an appropriate proceeding filed by any citizen, the sufficiency of the factual basis for the proclamation of martial law or the suspension of the privilege of the writ of habeas corpus or the extension thereof, and must promulgate its decision thereon within thirty days from its filing.
A state of martial law does not suspend the operation of the Constitution, nor supplant the functioning of the civil courts or legislative assemblies, nor authorize the conferment of the jurisdiction on military courts and agencies over civilians where civil courts are able to function, nor automatically suspend the privilege of the writ.
The suspension of the privilege of the writ shall apply only to persons judicially charged for rebellion or offenses inherent in or directly connected with invasion.
During the suspension of the privilege of the writ, any person thus arrested or detained shall be judicially charged within three days, otherwise he shall be released.

Section 18 gives the President three powers as CommanderinChief: 1.) the power to call out the Armed Forces; 2.) the power to suspend the privilege of the writ of habeas corpus; 3.) the power to declare martial law. (Sanlakas v Reyes, supra.)

Supposedly, what we’re concerned with, in Proc 1017, is the first power, the power to call out the armed forces. This power is vested on the President to exercise at her own discretion. Congress can’t revoke any act based on this power; the Supreme Court can’t touch it (unless the President exercised it with Grave Abuse of Discretion- Section 1, Article VIII, Constitution).

Okay. But what exactly does this power mean?

Its net effect, as explained by Fr. Bernas is that the President is the supreme military authority. She can direct the movements of the military forces, and to deploy them in the manner most effectual to harass, conquer and subdue the enemy.

This power is all the more necessary whenever the State has to defend itself.

There are two criteria for the exercise of this power:

1.) Whenever it becomes necessary;
2.) to suppress lawless violence, invasion, or rebellion.

Okay. We shouldn’t have any qualms with that. But are the criteria fulfilled? We can’t really ever tell because we don’t have access to Intelligence. However, we can possibly check its use by the acts that the government does to enforce it.

What about this statement that warrantless arrests can be made? The Constitution doesn’t say that it allows that. Before arrests can be made, the Executive should have to first apply for a warrant of arrest.

The only time when you can be arrested without a warrant is when you’re caught in the act, or red-handed.

The catch is, as Fr Bernas (Ateneo) and Dean Valdez (FEU) were pointing out the whole day, rebellion is a continuing crime. So, even when you’re at home and taking a bath or you’re in the john, you can still be arrested without a warrant, so long as you’ve been in the act of committing rebellion.

Next. Can the government take over businesses temporarily?

The basis for that supposition is Section 17, Article XII of the Constitution.

The problem is, this provision is under the Article on National Economy and Patrimony. So it makes sense to interpret it as being effective only when the National Emergency is Economic in nature. The whereas clauses of the Proclamation say that the Proclamation was issued mostly for reasons of national defense. As to whether the supposed "destabilization" rumors are affecting the economy, I distinctly remember the government crowing about our economic performance of late, so I don’t really see how this provision applies.

As of this writing, the offices of the Daily Tribune were raided (see the prohibition on the carrying of propaganda by the media and this warning against networks). The Tribune isn’t exactly all praises for this administration. But I still don’t know why it should be raided. I suppose the Executive will justify its raid on the temporary takeover of businesses provision. Don’t get me wrong, but I am reminded of a time three decades ago when some of the things that seem to be happening today seem to be similar to what happened then. And way back when, it wasn’t called a State of Emergency, it was called Something Else. That Something Else, is precisely why our present Constitution was written the way it is. The President has the power to declare that Something Else, but Congress can revoke the declaration. There are checks and balances (the Supreme Court can also review the factual basis). And there are safeguards ie, the Constitution remains operational, and the civil courts retain their jurisdiction over civilians.

Of course, if that Something Else is named Some Other Thing, such as a State of Something Other, then we’ll all be lolling about confused and witless, not knowing whether Congress has the power to revoke this… Something Other.

Who was it who said that, “I may not like what you say against me, but I will defend your right to say it.”?

Section 17, Article VII (Constitution) says, "The President… shall ensure that the laws be faithfully executed." Those laws include the Bill of Rights, which include the Freedom of Speech and our rights against Unreasonable Searches and Seizures, and the Protection of Life, Liberty and Property without the Due Process of Law." Shall. The President Shall.

State of Emergency

2006-02-24T15:16:00.000+08:00

Woke up late at 0730h, looking for my Civil Law Review Outline. Class is at 1400h.

Then people started texting me that there were no classes today.

Okay.

I switched on the news. Wow.

General Lim is being detained for asking permission to go join the rallies. I think the government is saying that there was a coup.

Granted that freedom of speech is restricted for men in the armed forces, it was still shocking to hear of people in the military who actually wanted his/ her Commander-in-Chief to step down. You have to ask why.

Then later, while I was having a very late breakfast, it was announced that the President had just issued Proclamation No. 1017, declaring a State of National Emergency. Immediate confusion. Martial Law?

Mike Defensor was on air to say that what this means is…

1.) Some people will be arrested without need for a warrant of arrest;
2.) Government can takeover certain businesses.

Okay.

If you want a definition of irony, then I don’t know how it can not be any clearer. Mind that it’s the twentieth anniversary of People Power tomorrow.

At around noon, Sec. Bunye held a press conference and gave the basis for Proclamation 1017:

1.) Section 18, Article VII, Constitution and,
2.) Section 17, Article XII of the Constitution.

Section 18, Article VII states…
The President shall be the Commander-in-Chief of all armed forces of the Philippines and whenever it becomes necessary, he may call out such armed forces to prevent or suppress lawless violence, invasion or rebellion….

Section 17, Article XII of the Constitution says…
In times of national emergency, when the public interest so requires, the State may, during the emergency and under reasonable terms prescribed by it, temporarily take over or direct the operation of any privately-owned public utility or business affected with public interest.

The prudent man asks: Where is this lawless violence, invasion, or rebellion (Sec 18, Article VII, 1987 Constitution) that justified the President in calling out the Armed Forces? What makes it necessary?

What is this “national emergency” that we’re in? Does the public interest require the takeover of businesses?

Warrantless arrests? Section 2, Article III of the Bill of Rights says that people have the right “to be secure in their persons… against unreasonable searches and seizures.” We cannot be arrested without a warrant of arrest (unless the person is caught red handed, or in flagrante delicto).

And you know what? Even if the President actually declares martial law, which supposedly this State of National Emergency is not, “A state of martial law does not suspend the operation of the Constitution….” (Section 18, Article VII) So, what is this thing about arresting people without warrants?

Government takeover of businesses? First, the government will have to prove that there is a national emergency. A national emergency, meaning a real one, not one that is only in its head. Second, the government will have to show that the national interest requires the takeover. I don’t know if it’s just me, but I look at this provision as one envisioning a circumstance where the public interest is being subverted because there is a monopoly in the operation of utilities. Third, this may actually be repugnant to the Constitution. “No person can be deprived of life, liberty and property without due process of law….” (Section 1, Article III, Bill of Rights). Wow. if I were a media company, I'd actually be in a quandary and debating whether I should continue not to be remiss in my duties as a journalist because, wow_ the government can actually take over my business...?

When Secretary Defensor spoke in emotionless tones of…

1.) Warrantless arrests, and
2.) Takeover of businesses….

What sprang to my mind is: Martial Law? Is it? It’s dangerous to use that term because under the Constitution, under the same provision that the government is quoting (Section 18, Article VII), Congress can revoke the imposition of Martial Law; and, the Supreme Court can review the sufficiency of Martial Law and strike it down as unconstitutional if need be.

Okay. As to what this State of Emergency really is, well, we’ll see.

(Happy EDSA day.) Have we forgotten what it's about? Nakalimutan mo na ba?

de facto officer

2006-02-21T22:39:00.000+08:00

Something occurred to me this afternoon.

We were discussing the difference between de jure and de facto officers in Poli Law Review.

De jure officers are public officers who have lawful title over the office. Meaning, they were appointed or elected in the proper course of things. But they may not have possession of the office because of a confluence of events such as, well, being unlawfully separated from it or by being ousted from the office.

De facto officers meanwhile, are those persons who do not have lawful title over the office but have possession of the office, and are holding it by mere acquiescence of the people. Not having lawful title over the office means that something is wrong or irregular with their appointment or with the way they were elected into office (among other things).

Which got me thinking….

Can you give an example of a de facto officer?

Let me see….

No lawful title. Either faulty appointment or fraudulently elected… but is holding office only with the mere acquiescence of the people.

Fraudulently elected.

Holding office.

Only holding it because of the acquiescence of the people.

Gloria? Haha. By jove.

;)

Run-over, mudslid, and a trophy

2006-02-19T21:43:00.000+08:00

Sad news from this side of the UP Fair. Word has been going around that a high school student was killed in the fair grounds. I have to warn you that this is unsubstantiated, meaning that I don’t have a source to name- or maim, if it’s not true. But I texted and asked everyone I know and everyone confirmed that it was true.

From the accounts. A boy was lying down in the Sunken Garden, sleeping behind a Pajero (from other accounts, it was an F150), when its owner decided to leave the Fair grounds by backing up….

Everyone swears this story is true. If you have a link which confirms it, I’ll sure appreciate the URL. (Thanks.)

In sports news, the Red Bull Barakos won the SanMig Fiesta cup Sunday evening (Feb 19, 2006), and I’m waxing sentimental about it.

Finally. I don’t know what to say about the Leyte mudslide. I’m sure most everyone has already gone on and blogged about it. I offer my condolences. For those who want to offer help, I think MLQ3d knows where, how we can help.

Even your local parish, for those who are Catholics are accepting donations.

quickly

2006-02-17T10:34:00.000+08:00

Quick posts.

I outlined the Transitory Powers of the President in the draft Consti being prepared by Congress (based on Bernas’ column) in my Dictum blog.

Next. LK and I set up a blog on all things basketball. (Seen the PBA lately? I kind’a miss having Ginebra in the Finals. The last time they were there, it was damn near impossible to get a ticket. Hay.)

mystery

2006-02-16T09:14:00.000+08:00

I have this habit of texting people whenever I’m befuddled with questions that can never be answered.

What is God? Is he an alien?

Who created him?

Is he just an artificial construct created just to make people toe the line? (If you don’t, you burn in Hell.)

Which begs the question… Did We in fact, create God?

Why are we here? Who are we?

Interesting lines of inquiry, when you’ve nothing to do. Or when you’re seeking for a good excuse to quit doing any kind of work. Not for purposes of calming the Boss, of course, but simply to justify your momentary indolence. (As in, I really need a coupl'a minutes alone to sort things out.)

Some few years ago, while I was in the midst of doing nothing, probably lying down, supine, on the floor, lazily humming to myself, I came upon this theory which spelled out for me one possible reason why there are many religions.

I mean, your basic kinds of religion espouse the same thing: Be a good man. Or woman. That’s it. Why did there have to be so many of them when essentially they’re all the same? Only the manner of worship and of practice differ. Maybe some knots and ends will vary, but at the core, they’re the same, with the same message: Be a good guy/ girl. Or else.

A re-imagining.

Millennia ago, when people were already in existence and when they’d already formed communities, an announcement was made. Whoever made the announcement, or how it was made is already lost, even by tradition.

The announcement went...

Hear ye, hear ye. (Or something of the sort.)

God wants to meet you peoples of the world. He wants to know your names, and ask of your stations.

And- why don’t we agree on a few rules while we're already there?

PS

Send only one representative per community. We prepared food for 200 people only.

Oh, and, very important, bring paper and a pencil so that you can take notes. (Ballpens weren't invented yet.)

Of course, the peoples of the Earth didn’t know who this God was, but that thing about food sounded interesting. People lobbied for themselves to be sent as representatives. Some... they gave out money so that people will vote for them. Some shacked up with- sucked up to- the people who mattered. (Remember, only one was required per community.)

So. Each community around the world sent their own representative. These representatives braved scorching deserts, swam through lakes, built rafts to cross the perilous seas, and hacked their way through dense jungles so that they can all go to the agreed meeting place.

They brought paper and a pencil. (One guy brought a stone tablet. I think his name rhymed with Noses.)

One even brought two pencils. Just in case. (I think his name rhymed with Abernakunesasardebasaheeb-Garcia.)

So the people of the Earth met in this one place, and they were introduced to God, who told them that He created them. They wrote this down.

They also all agreed on certain imperative rules such as: don’t lust after your neighbor’s wife (or wives), don’t hurt each other, don’t kill each other, and most especially, brush your teeth when you wake up, before you start talking to other people, etcetera. Or else. (Cue lightning. Roar of thunder.) They also wrote these rules down.

After the representatives partook of the free meal (which only consisted of a bottle of juice and a crappy sandwich), they went back to their respective communites so that they can report what was told in the meeting to their fellows, some men muttering, "Whatthe?!? I shacked up with Mayor Julio just so I can eat a crappy sandwich?" (Back then, every man voted into office became known as "Mayor Julio". Back then also, women weren't voted into office. Because they were smart. They didn't run for office. If they ran and won and became known as "Mayor Julio," they won't ever ever get married. I mean, I would Never marry a Mayor Julio. Unless she maybe looked like Naomi Watts.)

On the way back, they braved scorching deserts, swam through lakes, built rafts to cross the perilous seas, and hacked their way through dense jungles so that they can all go back home.

Unfortunately, for the lot of them, as they attempted to get home, they lost a few sheets of the paper on which they wrote their notes. For some of the representatives, the paper on which they wrote was ruined by rain, some partially, some totally. Some representatives, they were chased by dogs. When they were later asked what happened to their notes, they just answered matter-of-factly, The dog ate it. And it was probably true. (The Noses guy, even though he wrote on and was carrying stone tablets, he returned the tablets to his people intact. I heard he did this by_ get this, parting the sea and not having to row over it. Haha.)

The result of which was that when these representatives returned home, they each told their fellows what they could only recall of the meeting, because their notes were either incomplete or they'd gone kaput. And really_ no one will be the wiser. (Some representatives actually didn't bring enough paper, and the other reps there who had extra pieces of paper wouldn't give them any, so they wrote in small unreadable case to try fit everything in.)

Human memory being what it is, some of them forgot some details, others added to what was said, some recalled an entirely different set of facts. And so, for some communities, they were told that they were allowed to marry only once; for others, they were told that they could marry lots of times; for others, all they were told to do is lust after one another, and not after another's wife (or wives). That’s it.

Some reported of one God creating them, others reported of two, or of three, some even reported that there were a host of Gods.

But the substance remained the same which is that: 1. Peoples are beings who were created; and, 2. that God created them; and finally, 3. that they had better be good. Or else.

(Of course, some of the representatives reported that there was no God, that the whole thing was simply a ploy to market bottles of juice and crappy sandwiches.)

The point?

Ah. I was texting and asking most everyone I knew why life had to be confusing and hard and crappy (yes, like the sandwiches).

I received a host of answers, but the best answer of which went…

Life is a mystery to be lived, not a mystery to be solved.

Bravo.

from the NBA to the Freedom of Speech and Expression, or: How did it get there?

2006-02-12T07:51:00.000+08:00

Reading LK’s exposition on the sports theme….

She and I were talking last night, about how it would be nice to get a job in the NBA. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m a certified Ginebra fanatic (too bad they lost this conference), but there’re just so many things to do in the NBA.

I’ll digress. Every so often, when my friend, car15full_auto, and I would meet we’d always go on and talk about writing a lot of stuff. Car15, who works for an NGO, told me to mind the agri funds while the last election period was going on. Surprise, surprise. There’s 780 million pesos of it that’s unaccounted for today.

Where was I? Ah. Car15 first led me to Gary Allen’s None Dare Call it Conspiracy, and John Stormer’s None Dare Call it Treason. Not that I’ve read them from cover to cover. But their basic premise is this: the American Government is fooling its citizens some of the time through an elaborate conspiracy which would amount to treason if these acts were done by ordinary citizens.

Granted, the folks in Our government are too fickle in their loyalties to make up even one lasting conspiracy, so I see little application for that book here. Although you can make a case for its having an indirect application because America, big as it is, whatever it does and decides to do should affect everything around it (read: everyone).

Where was I…?

Ah, the point. The book is important because it shows you how free the US is, in terms of the Freedom of Speech and of Expression.

We have the same thing ingrained in Our Constitution, somewhere in the Bill of Rights (Sec 4, Art III, I think), which says, “No law shall be passed abridging the freedom of speech, of expression, and of the press….” Okay. No law Is being passed. Anyway, the Supreme Court will shoot that down before it becomes effective, HOWEVER, you don’t need a law to stifle your freedoms of speech, etcetera, etcetera. Someone Speaks and it's not the Supreme Court that does the shooting. You don't need a law to gag your Freedoms. You only need to be passive. You only need to not care.

How many journalists have already been killed this year? Two, by my count (and I have newspaper backlogs), and it’s not yet even Valentine’s.

The point? Ah. Much as we would malign the US for its many misdeeds, you’d have to admit that they’re freer there. (Freer. Not that they're totally free.) Can you imagine speaking out, nah, publishing a book against the officials of this country (especially the local officials) and not be visited by Harm?

I mean, even if you’re the bravest man on this planet, if you have a family or loved one somewhere, there’s your weakness right there (not a subtle ad for Firewall).

I was telling Car15 that for anyone to be an effective Graft-Government buster, you’d have to be big-balled and, more importantly (every one of us is afraid of something), alone. So alone that if you die without leaving a last will and testament, your properties go to the State.

Hay. (See also Dom’s entry.)

Where was I? Ah, because in the NBA, you could travel with the team and write, and do nothing but. You could analyze plays, maybe join the staff, maybe mix some math in to make your articles look scientific (and they’ll be). Plus, I won’t have to feel guilty when I watch the games (like I do now.) And the only shooting that goes on there is when the ball drops into the basket. Freer.

radyo, TV, and the cold

2006-02-11T08:52:00.000+08:00

I was caught radyo-ing to Pink yesterday during Civil Law Review. The prof told Pink to sit down and insisted that I finish the recitation. Okay.

The radyo is one of those things that are native to law school. Law classes here are usually conducted by using what we call the Socratic Method, which in officialspeak is something akin to some sort of discussion going on between the professor and the student. This is supposed to facilitate learning, making it two-way. Thus, both the teacher and the student should (might?) learn something from each other.

In truth, the Socratic Method the law schools use is a modified version. What really happens is, the professor shuffles cards which have the students’ names on them, picks one, and asks the unlucky student to recite. It’s really closer to a “Question Hour” where the teacher asks and the student answers. The number of questions asked may be as few as a single question or as many as a barrage of questions. (A professor of mine times recits at thirty minutes per student.) The student isn’t supposed to look at his or her notes while reciting. When someone does, the teacher makes the necessary deductions from the grade. Or the student is quietly or severely reprimanded, depending on the professor’s wont.

Most of the time, your seatmates will try to be helpful and whisper the answer to you when you’re (the student who’s reciting is) momentarily befuddled (or totally out of it). That’s radyo. It’s disallowed. But a lot of students do it anyway, for reasons of comity. Translation: I watch your back, you watch mine. When it’s their turn to recite, they’ll be appreciative of whatever help they can get.

There’s an urban legend going around the Halls of Malcolm on the art of the radyo. (Yes, it's an art.) One evening, a student who was not able to study for the meeting’s coverage was called by the professor to recite. Before the prof could start to ask questions, the lights went out. The professor insisted on holding classes. He started asking questions. Since the guy called to recite didn’t know zilch, and because it was dark anyway, his seatmate answered the questions for him.

There is also a variation of the radyo which we fondly call TV. TV is when you write the answer in a piece of paper and you shove the answer to the seatmate. Quiet, and, if executed properly, surreptitious.

Yesterday, the teacher caught me for both radyo-ing and TV-ing. Suffice it to say that I was shocked. Most everyone did it; but I was the only one caught. Argh. For a couple of minutes, I was too flustered to answer correctly the questions the prof threw at me.

The silly thing about it is, the answers I was supplying Pink were all wrong. She was listening to my radyo and looking at my TV’s and shaking her head. Wrong, she was mouthing. She thought of the correct answers herself. Hay.

Finally…

The mornings have been cold of late. I don’t know if it’s because we’re having an extended winter somewhere or if it’s the greenhouse gases finally making their presence known. But I really shouldn’t be complaining. We’ve one more excuse not to wake up too early in the mornings. Yawn.

stampede

2006-02-04T11:43:00.000+08:00

54 to 66 deaths in a stampede in the ULTRA stadium in Pasig this morning. Apparently, thousands of people lined up for days to participate in a Wowowee draw. According to some reports, someone shouted “bomb” and the people scattered in all directions.

Whatever was the cause of the stampede, what’s alarming is that when you read the reports, what immediately becomes obvious are the words, “lined up for two days,” and the figures: 30,000 people. And that, as we’ll all admit, is just the tip of the iceberg.

Read the newspapers; Arroyo is all over the place, bragging about the appreciation of the Peso. Something I can’t quite appreciate. Nor will others, I bet. Especially since prices have been rising. And, as you can see, people are risking life and limb to get some dole outs, even if they have to wait in line for two days.

Meanwhile, if you take a look at the Daily Tribune, you’ll find that there are still some questions that this administration needs to answer, such as, What happened to the P700million fertilizer funds that went AWOL on the eve of the elections; and all those bugging questions about the elections; and the bugggings during the elections! Migod. It’s like we’re all being transformed into playthings and pawns and ways to get rich and powerful easy. It’s not easy; it’s not easy to be such a poor country, with poor people. I don’t know how to make those in power understand.

Is that the nature of power? Mind the clichés. We’d better get rid of those seats in Malacanang. They have some sort of mind… control power over those sitting on them. They become greedy.

another mediaman gunned down

2006-01-29T09:31:00.000+08:00

Saturday, January 22, another mediaman was gunned down in Bataan.

Gary Aquino, a journalist was gunned down in Morong, Bataan by still unidentified men. He wrote for the provincial newsweekly Central Luzon Forum. Police suspect that members of the RHB (Rebolusyong Hukbong Makabayan) killed Aquino. Aquino suffered two gunshot wounds on the nape and was killed on the spot. He was shot during a cockfight in Bgy Panibatuan, Morong, at 1530h, during the barangay fiesta.

Supt Arnold Gunnacao, the deputy police director for operations said that the RHB may have suspected that Aquino was a police informer. (Source: The Daily Tribune, 20060123)

how to extend

2006-01-28T08:27:00.000+08:00

The words of a Pacquiao fan: “This is how we celebrate a clean victory.”

The politicians were out in full force yesterday, over at Manny’s victory party, soliciting votes.

Sometimes you get the feeling that for everyone we vote into office, it’s like we’ve gotten ourselves into a bad marriage. They’re always there during the good times and absent during the bad. You long for divorce, but it’s messy.

This is why we should all strive to go into a long courtship, so that we can get to know the people who’re running after our votes; not just pencil in the name of anyone who’s gotten themselves into the box office (or who makes herself look like the box office). Sometimes, I don’t know why we like to punish ourselves.

We don’t, of course. I get the feeling that during elections, the lot of us are like wanderers who’ve gotten lost in the desert, running after chimeras. The problem is, after we realize that all we’ve been running after is a mirage, we’ve had already spent a great deal of our energy chasing after it.

Meanwhile, vultures are flying above and around us, waiting for us to finally expire (and feed on our corpses).

I didn’t get to see the Pacquiao match Sunday. I was desperately trying to finish a paper I had to submit. Plus, it didn’t help that my friends already told me who was going to win, and when, right when the match started. It made for a very good betting position (which was what I did to the hapless during the Barrera match, haha), but I was feeling honest last Sunday (even when I’d yet to hear mass- I’m going to lay off the unaware obtuse awhile, haha) so I held back. And anyway, I wasn't really into boxing. (Excuses.) All that mattered was that Manny won.

It’s really an amazing thing when you realize that everyone’s at home watching the match. The streets were totally bereft of people, if you happened to check. The closest we’ve come to this was during the heyday of Ginebra, each time it managed to claw its way to the Finals. But even then, not everyone rooted for the same team. Sunday, we were all for Team Philippines. For ten rounds, we were all united. How can we extend that into a couple more years?

coup? nah.

2006-01-21T12:18:00.000+08:00

Weekend coup rumored.

Granting that our DOJ Secretary didn’t mention this one to the Press in his sleep, I really doubt anyone will be even thinking of mounting a coup right when Pacquiao has a match.

broadcaster down

2006-01-21T07:59:00.000+08:00

Another broadcaster gunned down.

Yesterday, Rolly Canete was gunned down by gunmen who drew up beside his motorcycle. Canete, who was also a spokesman for the spouses Cerilles (Antonio, erstwhile environment chief, is- again- the Congressman of Pagadian; and his wife, Aurora, is the governor of Pagadian), was also a broadcaster on three radio stations. He "frequently criticized their political opponents”.

When will all this end?

rare week day

2006-01-19T08:54:00.000+08:00

it's the rare week day when the amount of effort that's needed for you to slog through it is: zero.

no class at noon. the prof needs to meet with some clients. though i have one at 4pm, it's one that i really won't have to study for because i'm not on-deck for recits.

woke up at 0800, which isn't normal for me. i'm usually a morning person. my consciousness seeps in at 0530. (my IQ and civility creep up after it, but only after i'd have downed my morning's worth of coffee.)

since i woke up at eight, my head's flashing warnings of oversleeping. i should have myself rewired. is that possible? (what counts is the number of hours you slept, not the hour of awakening.)

what to do?

being the NBA fanatic i am, i scanned the schedule of games for the day. hmmn...

nets v philly
washington v the magic (tragic?)
phoenix v the clips

okay. good games. i'll be online till way past noon, checking on the scores. sigh.

saw Rumor Has It (Aniston, Costner, Ruffalo, Maclaine) last night. what can i say? it wasn't much of a rumor. all i could think of as the movie progressed was, wow, Jen's using the Brangelina thang to beef up her acting. which acting was... passable. though i couldn't help thinking that she looked considerably older than her Friend's days. which is just me being moronic. (of course she's older.)

meanwhile, mark ruffalo was being... mark ruffalo. seems like he acts the same way in all his movies. of course, it doesn't help any that the first time i saw him was as a detestable (for me) detective in In the Cut (with Meg Ryan, where she had a nude scene... i think). but, yeah, see for yourself. ruffalo in 13 Going on 30 (Garner), Just Like Heaven (Witherspoon), and Rumor.... it's the same ruffalo in each one.

let's just say that Rumor... is an SM movie. or an Ever movie. meaning, i wouldn't be caught dead paying upwards of a hundred pesos for it. watch it on a nice, clean cinema... that's it.

Family Stone (McAdams- i love her, Parker, Wilson, Mulroney, Daines, Keaton) is better fare. though you can deduce how the movie will end from the getgo, it's a lot of fun sitting through the plot and subplots. when a lot of writers will tell you that the ending's the hardest part to get right, in ... Stone, since the ending's one that's to be fairly expected, the road to the end is what counts. much. and the telling of the story's okay. (my lack of a caffeine fix is limiting my vocabulary to okay.)

sigh. beautiful morning. 'morning. =)

fated

2006-01-17T07:40:00.000+08:00

Yesterday, I was lost in thought: wouldn’t it be wonderful if I could live my life in a bubble, just floating around, and watching the world go by, insulated from world events, and happenings. Just be a Watcher?

Flubbed recit yesterday. When Prof Baviera went in for Civil Law Review, I was busy trying to arrange the assigned cases in the order that they were to be discussed. I came upon this one case which I hadn’t read? What the?!? Why did I bring this case? Is this for next meeting?

I checked the outline.

Yikes! It was assigned! And it was the first case!

I speed-read the case while the Professor was calling the roll.

“Mr. Mercado, tell the class what happened in the case of Republic v the Court of Appeals.”

Haha. My luck. I read everything, including the kitchen sink, save for one case; and I’d have to be called to recite that one case I didn’t read. The Fates, somewhere, must be laughing.

Strange thing, Fate. You don’t know whether to believe in them or not.

By our words, we do believe in them, but not completely. I think deep down, we’re all aware that whatever happens to us is mostly due to the consequences of our actions. And yet, when we want to ascribe something magical to a circumstance, we call it Fate. As in, I met my future wife because of Fate.

Or when tragedies happen, we also ascribe it to Fate, so that we justify losses, and tell ourselves that it wasn’t our fault- and so that we can help ourselves move on.

(What are we all fated to be?)

uncloistered

2006-01-15T07:35:00.000+08:00

Jokes that crop up when you find yourself suddenly missing a tooth...

C’mon, Cheer! You have to exert your molar influence. (Uhum.)
You’re not a good person. You have no molars. (Not news to me.)
Brrr. It must be cold in the molar regions. (Burn in hell, creep.)

Tuesday, our Poli Review class was talking about the Freedom of Expression. “But can you imagine, class..?” our professor asked. “What do you call someone who talks and talks even when no one’s listening to him?”

You, I thought. The whole class was doing something other than listening. Pink was talking to her seatmate. The Queen was studying for her next class, etcetera, etcetera. Cas was… we-ell, he was listening to the prof, but he’s gonna top the Bar anyway, so… that’s his excuse. Ben was… where was he?

Finally got through the Commercial Law midterms. For the moment, meaning, for the morning half of this day, I’ve become uncloistered. (I have lots to do! Oi.) I hope I didn’t flunk spectacularly. Prof Catindig has very high expectations for his classes, thus he has absolutely no qualms about flunking anyone, even if they’re graduating this March. That’s why there were only ten of us who enlisted in his class. (The usual class size is around 20.) Which is such a shame because he’s such an expert; and he’s an expert who knows how to teach. That’s as rare as they come.

He proctored the exam himself. You kind’a appreciate that, when a big shot lawyer wastes his Saturday evening on you. Makes you feel that he’s really devoted to teaching.

The cool thing about him is, he came in listening to an iPod. I don’t know of anyone older than 55 who listens to an iPod. Do you?

He was singing along to the songs. Nice voice.

He was also reading a book while we scratched our scalps off doing his exam. I would’ve wanted to come over, after, to see what he was reading, but I found myself suddenly afflicted with this malady that I had to rush home immediately after the exam. (I wasn’t able to check my answers.)

So… I won’t have to worry about the exam anymore. All I have to worry about are the results. Goo goo ga ga.

organ

2006-01-10T07:14:00.000+08:00

In the case of Goitia v Campos-Rueda (1916), the wife left the husband because he constantly asked her to do unchaste and lascivious acts on his organ….

Whew. I suppose she should be grateful he asked her to leave the piano alone. (Hah!)

i salute you

2006-01-07T20:43:00.000+08:00

Before this morning, I was ready to consign all dentists to my hate list. That was before this morning.

Since Wednesday, I was having this terrible toothache in the evenings. Nuts to that toothache. I couldn’t do anything but stare at my television and pity myself.

For the lot of people who have had toothaches, they know that a toothache is one of the most tormenting pains in the world, almost at par with your basic heartache. Of course with heartache, you can’t cure it with a pop of ibuprofen, or mefenamic acid. The rub is, with your garden variety toothache, while it subsists, you can’t just honestly ignore it. You have to suffer through it.

Maybe I can dishonestly ignore it you say? Yes, well, while I was in a bout with the frigging toothache last night, I honestly wanted to smash my chin with a hammer. Right on the spot where the offending tooth is. Dishonest, because I would be robbing the dentist of expected income; and also because it was the kind of fix that would probably be gratifying only in the split second that the hammer’s head hits my poor jaw. Dishonest, because I would be robbing myself of several sets of teeth; and, maybe, even a jaw.

Tonight, I’m enjoying a nice cup of tea and wondering what my molar, the one the dentist removed, is doing. Probably grinding it out with the other molars in the dentist’s office. (Get it? Grinding it out…. Okay. Hey doc, am I still high on morphine? I'm not? Can I be?)

Okay. Maybe it’ll be best to tell the tale by rewinding to the start of my morning.

I woke up at 0700h, prepared to brew my daily pot of coffee (4 cups). I dialed myself online so I can read or download the day’s newspapers. (And yes, because reading the news is injurious to my blood pressure these days, I’ll often just download them from their websites, upload them on my Palm, and erase them in a week, so that I can claim some more storage space for next week’s papers. [I’m too cheap to buy a bigger multimedia card.])

My brother stopped by to say Hi at around 0800h- and to remind me that I'll be paying for his wedding’s video coverage. (What? I specifically said that I’ll take care of the Invitations. What? Somebody’s already signed a contract with a printer? Fine, I’ll handle the video coverage. What? The food too? No-uh. This is the reason why I’m not getting married. Too many expenses. I can’t even buy a bigger multimedia card.) He went out of the house laughing.

Anyway, before he dropped the bomb of the video coverage, I was asking him where I could find a good dentist- a good dentist who’s not expensive. (I can’t even buy a bigger multimedia card.) He told me that it just so happened that our father had just taken him to his dentist early this week. Where was that, I asked. At the Royale Place, in front of the Ever Gotesco Mall. Okay. I know where that is. Thankyou. What? I have to pay for the video coverage…?

So I sent my dad a text message, warning him that I’ll be going to his dentist before lunch. He answers, Good. They’re okay. Here’s their number.

Then he adds, “Tell them that I’m your father. They know me.”

Okay.

The last time I gave that I’mthesonofMr.Mercadospeech I was met with responses of, “Hunh?” And probably with thought bubbles of, who cares? I’m not going to use that speech later. Though I did use it. Okay, I told. But only because I was scared.

A secret technique that was used in Vietnam… and this is the first time that this technique will be revealed to the whole world: The reason why the Vietnamese beat the Americans in Vietnam is… when they captured an American, to prod the American soldier to confess, and generally blab about state secrets, what the Vietnamese do is… they wave dentist’s tools in front of the American GI while he’s strapped in a dentist’s chair.

My battalion? It’s over there, it’s over there!

Yes! Yes! The moon landing was staged. It was a fake! Just… please… don’t hurt me…!

So anyway, yes, I was scared of going to the dentist, but so were the Americans.

But my tooth was really hurting. Should I go? Maybe I can learn to live with a toothache that was there only in the evening? I asked God for a sign.

I switched on the teevee to look for an NBA game. What was on was… the Utah Jazz versus the Memphis Grizzlies.

Okay. I drove to the dentist’s.

I asked for references (to a dentist) because if there was the distinct possibility that I was going to have my tooth pulled it wasn’t going to be pulled in a holeinthewall.

Anyway, I knew that any dentist won’t give me the option of pulling out my tooth because they’d have to get rid of the swelling first.

“We’ll have to pull the tooth out.”

“What? Aren’t you going to give me something for the swelling to go down?”

“Nope.”

Is he on to me? Does he know that once I’ve inveigled from him the name of the drug that’ll bring down the swelling in my tooth, he won’t ever see me again?

“Are you sure?”

“Yup.”

The crappy thing about having a tooth pulled when you’re in your late twenties is that when it’s gone, it’s gone forever. Sort of like virginity.

Wouldn’t it be fun if we could be virgins as many times as we have teeth? (I once knew this girl who goes on pretending to be a virgin. Men aren’t that stupid, I’d tell her. In my head. How do you say that to someone, and not lie. Men are stupider.)

So.

As I was contemplating teeth and virginity (See? Stupider), the dentist was already sticking a needle in my mouth.

“Wamoooltenten deehyoooda?” I asked.

“Dentists only use topical anesthesia for milk teeth. Yours is more complicated, so I have to inject you with this.”

“Yeeeeebah ee sill huh?”

“It won’t hurt.”

After that brief exchange, my anxiety level eased somewhat. This dentist had obviously topped his class in dentistry classes. He could understand me! How cool is that? I should be in safe hands.

“Aww ooooo eeee eykkkk?”

“Maybe I should inject you with anesthesia twice more so you can stop talking.”

(Ouch. Ouch.)

The dentist finally pulled my tooth out, after wrestling with it for more than an hour. And to think that among his first words to me were, “I have gentle hands.”

Yes, I felt his gentle hands for an hour. They were grasping pliers. And the pliers were grasping my tooth. The pliers, I will have to tell you, don't have "gentle hands". Come to think of it, our earlier exchange probably consisted of him saying, "I have gentle hands (winkwink)."

The result of everything is that I am now pain free. Except, that is, for the nagging void in my gums where my molar used to be.

There is also a nagging void in my pocket, where my wallet used to be. (Almost grappled with that one too.)

All in all, I don’t know how you dentists do it, to stick your hands in other people’s mouths day in and day out, and actually help people. I salute you.

Heil.

wrongs

2006-01-05T21:13:00.000+08:00

Not a few things bothering me today, among of which is something I overheard.

“Ganyan naman talaga ang justice system dito, eh. Pera lang nagdidikta sa hustisya. Kausapin mo’ng Executive Judge. Baka puwede niyang kausapin ‘yung mas mababa sa kanya para ayusin ang MR. Pera-pera lang ‘yan.” (That’s the way the justice system is. Money dictates what justice should be. Talk to the Executive Judge. Maybe he can convince his subordinate to grant your Motion for Reconsideration. It’s all about money.)

Okay.

Granted that not a few of the judges here are corrupt. It doesn’t mean that we should all haul our asses over to the bandwagon. It is wrong wrong wrong. What we should do is ride it out. Stay the course. Follow the rules and have faith that true justice will prevail. If we’ll just go and do what everyone apparently (it’s not apparent to me) does, we’ll only be perpetuating a wrong. A Very Big Wrong. Among millions of other Wrongs that need to be made right. And you know what, if so much wrong is perpetuated, I won’t be surprised if everyone will suddenly decide to turn domestic and clean the bedpans of the people of the First World.

Ito ang bayan ko. Naaasar ako sa mga taong naninira nito.

you brain is putty

2006-01-02T01:04:00.000+08:00

It’s back to sleepless nights again. Classes start tomorrow- (later! Oh sweet jeepers...), and I am too painfully aware that I haven’t studied yet for tomorrow's classes. (And, of course, the Bar is fast approaching. But that's another Panic subject I don't want to get into now.)

When will I ever learn?

Before sunrise starts (what time is it?) I will have to go through my semi-annual ritual of bopping myself on the head.
Why didn’t you study?
Why didn’t you study?
Why didn’t you study?

Okay.

My last movie for the break is The Machinist (Christian Bale, Jennifer Jason Leigh). I’d first seen the trailer for the movie After I’d seen Batman begins. It was like I’d just come from a different planet. Or one of those situations Marty McFly (from the BTTF- Back to the Future movies- gawd, I love them) gets into after he returns from the future- or the past. Things have changed.

In Batman, Bale is buffed up for the role. In the Machinist, Bale is a skeleton with flesh. Take a look for yourselves….

Trevor (Bale) is a machinist who hasn’t slept for a year. Suddenly, he starts seeing things that normal sleeping people can’t see. Has he locked on to a hidden dimension because of his sleep deprivation?

The Machinist is a study of guilt. The Machinist- also: Twilight Zone the Movie Part MCX (was there ever a Part Two?- hay, those were the days), or Memento-lite (Memento stars Guy Pearce and Carrie Ann Moss). The movie feels like an extended episode of the Twilight Zone. It’s also in the same category as Memento. (If you haven’t seen it, See it.) What category is that? The yourbrainisputtyIcanmakeyoufeelinsane category.

Therefore: if you want to be in a happy mood after watching a movie, don’t see this, or films in its category. But if you want to be a little bit of in the mood for discussion, you gotta see this movie. Goes well with popcorn and white wine. Trust me.

The movie looks like it’s done in sepia. I guess I’m not technical enough to define it. But it’s all of gray and light hues of blue. Not bad; not bad at all.

requiem

2006-01-02T00:35:00.000+08:00

Two days ago, the 31st of December, 2005, Judge Henrick Gingoyon, aged 53, was killed. He was the presiding judge of Branch 117 of the Pasay City RTC. He was shot by two gunmen on a Honda motorcycle while he was returning home from the gym, at 12:45pm. Noon. High noon. Shot in the back. Four bullets were recovered. 0.45 caliber.

Judge Gingoyon presided over the PIATCo case, where he ruled that the government could take over the NAIA Terminal 3 if the government will pay Php3B to the Consortium.

The Supreme Court upheld his ruling with certain modifications, and remanded the case to him so that the proper amount of just compensation could be weighed and decided.

Requiem.

Journalists killed.

Judges killed.

Militants killed.

Freedom killed.

Are we free?

Requiem, my Pearl of the Orient, my P.I., my Philippine Islands.

No wonder people deign to flee from your shores- when they see that all hope is lost.

Tell me there is Hope.

counting down to Monday, or: doing nothing is an art

2005-12-29T01:06:00.000+08:00

Wednesday. I have exactly one- you read that right- ONE day to read and study what I should have... read and studied during the Holidays. One day. Because on Friday till Saturday, I'll be in Pangasinan, enjoying the fresh air, and the night breeze... the night sky, my nephews and nieces. Nowhere near studying. (But first, I'll be doing what I usually do after a long drive: Sleep.) On Sunday, well, I'll be sleeping. Ü

And yet...
... what else are the Holidays for but to while away in indolence.

Hay.

Scoured Powerbooks for something I should buy. I'm currently on ... Mulvaneys (Oates), ... Sepia (Allende), and ... Geisha (Golden), but I thought I needed one more book for me to be able to say that this Break wasn't a complete waste of time.

What Did I do during the Break? Nothing, mostly. Isn't that what the Holidays are for?

And that doesn't only apply to students on a break. I remember when I was still working full time. When the Holidays arrived, work was half-hearted. Because Christmas and the New Year ensured several holes in your pockets (assume you Have pockets), construction projects (we Construct) hovered in the general area of Zero. Thus, the whole staff was generally constrained to... Minesweeper and Solitaire. (Me, I was emailing most everyone I knew.)

The point...? Ah. It was 15 minutes to closing time and my mind was too fried (I spent the whole day in the hospital with my mother) to have to choose between Hollinghurst, Hagedorn (Jungle), and a handful of other books in my ToBuy(-ToRead) list which I couldn't fried... Find. Which I couldn't find. (Fried, I tell you. Hay.)

The Gangster We Are All Looking For (Le Thi Diem Thuy)
The Dogs of Babel (Parkhurst)
The House on Garibaldi Street (on the Mossad_ by someone or other)
etcetera
etcetera

Then I saw Midnight's Children (Rushdie).....

WhattheHell.
Three minutes left before the store closed.
Wanted it bad a few years ago.
Booker (winner).
I had money (-Most important)

Paid for it. Now if only I had time to read it.... Them. Read them.

During the break, I also had time to reacquaint myself with the PS2. I didn't really want to come into contact with one. I was afraid I'll get hooked and do nothing else. (You couldn't pry me away from my Family Computer. Haha.) So I didn’t buy a unit. But my brother did.

Anyway. I found that I still had a measure of control over my playing. Of course, it helps much that all I play are PrinceofPersia games. Hah.

Hay.

Doing nothing is an art. That's what Sonya (of the Garden, in Tagaytay) has been heard to say often. I've yet to master it.

gloria surfs!

2005-12-28T12:40:00.000+08:00

What’s fun about reading the news in broadsheet form is that you can just lay it down flat on the table and look at everything in one fell swoop. To read online, you have to click on several links to read each article. It’s a slow and tedious process.

I read my newspapers on my Palm (T), so it’s a helluva lot slower.

Which may be a good thing. Because it helps to keep my blood pressure on the level.

Trolling through the online dailies though, I came across this picture of Gloria in the Manila Times. Haha. This’ll serve to keep me amused for days to come. (You kind of wish that the waves will devour her.)

I don’t know why the Opposition has difficulty trying to unseat her. There’s a security lapse right there. All anyone would have to do is release a shark (assume that’s an easy thing to do). And/OR just maybe embarrass her to death by mocking her while she tries to do a Hawaii five-o.

I really don’t know why she’s doing this. I do know that recently, the First Gentleman- what is he a First of? (Yes, I know. He’s the First Gentleman. But that presupposes two things, one is that he’s the First, and the other is that he’s the gentleman. As to the former, okay, I admit. He just happens to be the hubs of the “President”. Fine we’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. But as to being a gentleman? Wow, we aren’t that close. I can’t vouch for that.)- Arroyo recently got flak from_ the most of us for treating the gold medalists in the Southeast Asian Games to a trip to Disneyland, HK. Couldn’t he have just whisked them off away to some local paradise, the pundits said? What about their supposed aim of promoting local tourism?

Okay. Frankly, it’s Mike Arroyo’s prerogative to take the athletes wherever he wants to take them. After all, it is his money (and whatever-whomever lobbyists'). But really, our athletes deserve whatever consolation, support, prize we can give them. (We have a shitty national sports program.)

Anyway, if she wants to win the nation’s collective hearts, what she should do is… drown. Okay. I shouldn’t be too graphic. Besides, that would be evil. She should… resign. No, wait, that’s what the Opposition would say (I'm not saying that I won't be happy if she will. Hah!). Arroyo should… take a tumble for the cameras. Seriously. When we laugh along with her, we’ll realize that she’s human, like the rest of us. (Wait, why did I just recommend something the administration could use? Hay. Maybe I just want a good laugh.) It shouldn't be too hard. I mean, I was watching the Simpsons yesterday. To win her classmates' hearts what Lisa Simpson did was to splatter cake on Principal Skinner. Therefore, all Gloria has to do to win our hearts is... splatter cake on Principal Skinner. Or drown herself... or resign... what was that other one? Ah, make us laugh. Like Erap did. (She should also learn to communicate with the Filipinos in Tagalog, Bisaya, Kapampangan, Ilokano, Hiligaynon, or in any of the local languages. So that we can relate to her. She should also learn to acknowledge what the Filipinos need; and act on and for them.)

Haay. What else is on the news? BusinessWorld online says that Christmas sales plunged from last year.

If you want a reliable indicator of how the Filipinos are doing, this should be a credible indicator. What would this statistic mean? It means that either disposable income (or income in general) is down or risk expectations for the coming months are high.

Or it could mean that the Christmas spirit is down. Haha. Or kris kringle ceilings are down. (The sky is falling, the sky is falling. Ay, Chicken Little was... a waste of money, by the way. Pixar is way better than Disney when it comes to CG animation. When it comes to choosing storylines that is. Not necessarily the graphics.)

Hay. Numbers. The lot that you can do with them.

What else? Hmmn….

Ah, here you go. The Philippines is slowly trying to wriggle its way into the internet age. Via the Inquirer, Cyberspace ‘pirma’ urges Abalos to resign. In the Manila Times, PNP tracking mutineer Faeldon website; are we now in China?

Not entirely good news for everyone, but there you go- we’re wriggling our way…. (Wriggle wriggle.)

2am random

2005-12-28T02:08:00.000+08:00

not yet sleepy, but my brain's already turned itself off.

why am i writing on my blog?

i just finished conjuring a twenty-page Motion for Reconsideration. (conjuring! because i don't recall how it got there... here, i mean here, on my desk.) i don't know if it's any good; though i did feel like it was okay this morning.

i drove my mother to the hospital this morning.

why do we suddenly remember how precious anyone is after we run smack dab (wham-bang) into Mortality.

as it is, she's only there for a check up. (but she felt faint this morning. and for the past couple of weeks.) i'll be picking her up tomorrow. (my father and brothers were with her tonight.) i hope everything'll be okay.

wednesday! it's wednesday today! how did one and a half weeks of vacation go by so fast? i didn't realize that i was having fun (that time flew).

ah. i remember thinking how wonderful it was to be doing nothing for a change. no deadlines to beat; no cramming for class.

for the moment.

should i have to begin cramming for next week tomorrow? or should i instead cram everything i planned to do for the break in the three... four days remaining of the Holidays? sigh.

why do we have to go to work/ classes on the 2nd? isn't that a bit too early?

what does a moviebuff do when he rues everything in the cinemas (currently)?

when will Narnia be shown?

och.

blessed sleep- claim me.

happy

2005-12-26T08:01:00.000+08:00

what's up? i've been feeling crappy lately. crab cakes? crap cakes?

maybe it's because of all the traffic, and the crowds. i just haven't really gotten into the spirit of Christmas, have i?

my brother and i went DVD shopping yesterday. discs and a player.

i watch discs on my laptop; my brother watches on his PS2. he tells me that we should get a player because if his PS2 lens breaks, it'll cost us 4thousand to replace it. aren't PS2 games DVD's too? should there be a difference?

i thought it doesn't matter if he's conning me. maybe we Do need a player. so we looked for a machine and divvied up the cost. he spent the whole night watching some anime i haven't even heard of.

"do stores still sell Flight of Dragons?", i ask him.

"what's that?"

"what, you're too young to remember?"

"i don't think i was already born." he yawns, wanting to dismiss me.

"what about Nausicaa and the Valley of the Wind?"

"don't know that either."

"Galactic_ something Express?"

"nope."

okay. the nice thing about Christmas is that it gives families an excuse to get together, and to avoid getting on each other's nerves.

maybe if we weren't all guys, maybe the household would've been more peaceful. as it is, we are what we are, and Christmas being what it was, it provided what isn't possible on any given day of the year... togertherness. and watching some anime (Naturo?) i haven't heard of in my entire life. it was fun.

moot and academic_ and it's all crappy

2005-12-25T10:47:00.000+08:00

I'm reading the newspapers days late so I'm still a little pissed off at what’s happening around these parts of late.

Of course, people will tell me that everything that's been going on has been going on for what seems like forever, so i shouldn't really be the least surprised.

I was taking in my nightly port of wine last night after we'd done the annual noche buena when I realized, geez, Arroyo shouldn't have been allowed run in 2004. And i wasn't drunk yet then, I swear. Drunk with anger maybe, if that’s possible. But anger's all I have when it doesn't look like I can do anything about it.

Gloria swore that for the sake of unity, she won't run in the 2004 elections, so that we can avoid dividing the nation. Okay. Fast forward to 2005. We're divided. Why? Because she ran. ayos. Arroyo will make a great seer. She’s better than any of the fortune-tellers we tout on the teevee to be the purveyors of Star predictions. She’s the best pundit I’ve ever had the mis(fortune) of being in the same country with. Freaking correct. We are divided.

And yet…. If she’d seen it coming, why didn’t she help us avoid it?

Section 4, article VII of the Philippine Constitution says, and I quote, "... The President shall not be eligible to run for any re-election....". What did Gloria Arroyo, the then Vice-president become, after Estrada was booted out of office? See section 8 article VII. "In case of death, permanent disability, removal from office, or resignation of the President, the Vice-President shall become President to serve the unexpired term." via the case of Estrada v Desierto, the Supreme Court ruled that Estrada resigned from the Presidency. (Albeit this is a very strained ruling, we’ll stick by it because whatever the Supreme Court says… forms a part of the legal system of the Philippines- article 8, Civil Code.) Arroyo became president. Hence, she "shall not be eligible to run for any re-election.”

Okay. Granted that according to election law, for a term limit to apply the prior term must have been served completely. Meaning, if Arroyo only served for the remainder of Estrada’s term, it doesn’t count. Okay. (Let’s forget about section 8, article VII.) Why wouldn’t we be allowed to apply the reasons why Our president isn’t allowed a second term? Six years is “long enough, for a good president to implement his programs….” (Constitutional Commission). Add to that the unspoken reason that we’ve had enough of anyone lording over our institutions and abusing it. Then maybe she shouldn’t have been allowed to run.

Unless she’s a bad president so six years wouldn’t have been long enough for her.

But she did run; and she was allowed to. And I can’t do anything about it. And we must respect the decision of every judicial body that allowed her to.

But the country is in such a mess right now, and with everyone batting for a change in the Constitution, it’s like we’re all having muck thrown in our faces. The consultative-whatever-commission- chaired by… gasp… Jose Abueva… has recommended that elected officials stay on till 2010 without need of any election. They also want to remove the restraints against foreigners in owning land and businesses. Okay. We give aliens our livelihood through the WTO, now we intend to give them our land and businesses? Okay. These same people also want to lodge Executive and Legislative power in one body, the parliament. Imagine today’s government without the Senate. We’d all be cowed by the demands of the Executive. Okay.

I’m not having a Merry Christmas right now (I’m having a crappy one. Why did I have to pick up a newspaper?). I have no reason to.

(also in my Dictum blog.)

peace

2005-12-24T17:34:00.000+08:00

tracy chapman.

dim lights.

my brother outside cooking pork chop on a grill.

peace.

for the moment.

(sigh.)

Narnia

2005-12-23T13:45:00.000+08:00

(Emailed by a friend who adores Narnia. I feel the same way.) I entered the World of Narnia through the same doorway as the Pevensie children, through the Wardrobe.

Hah. Nothing more satisfying than having a nice, long, drawn-out bath in the middle of the day. A day that is, incidentally, a holiday.

Athough... it’s not totally a holiday. I still have to make sense of an Appeal (to an ejectment case) that’s due by next week. But work’ll only reappear after today’s siesta time. For the moment, I’ll leave myself time to relax.

I just finished reading The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (Lewis).

I got a copy of the book by putting it at the top of my wish list for the Block Christmas party- this party which I wouldn’t have attended were it not for the persistent prodding of some of my friends.

I’m weird in a lot of ways. In one of those ways, I’m weird because I don’t like going to parties. Specifically, I don’t like going to parties because I don’t want to have to be invited to play games. Because I won’t. Or I can’t. I don’t know how to explain it. I’m more wont to embarrass myself publicly than the next guy, and I’ll do it gladly, without even a thought as to how it’ll affect my self esteem. (It won’t.) But I’m loathe to participate in party games. I suppose it’s one of those mysteries that will never ever be solved, such as where did the universe come from (and does it matter if we’ll know or not), or will the Philippines ever prosper (and that’s too scary for me to want to know the answer, because I’m afraid that it’ll be: never).

Anyway, the long and short of it is that I did go to the Block Party, and I did not participate in any of the games.

From the moment I arrived at the party gates, I was already muttering under my breath:

whydidithavetobeacostumeparty?

And:

whodoesacostumepartyinthemiddleofDecember?

And yet, as soon as our Block President saw me, he said, “Oli, hey, nandito ka!” I think it kind of melted my heart a little. Medyo.

Of course, I didn’t wear any kind of costume; and people I passed kept on asking me a variety of whys and whats (I was supposed to be). I laughed everytime I was asked. Hahahaha. (I came as someone who genuinely likes to be here.)

When the games started, I shed off the costume.

I love the Block, although a few of my friends will hear me say otherwise. What I really mean is that there are just times when our differences show. But really, were we all alike, it would have been boring. I am grateful that we all differ. And really, usually, sentimental-melancholy comes easy to me, but this time, it crept up on me late. It was only a few days ago when I realized- whoa, that was the last time that our whole Block will be together in one room. (We’re graduating this sem.)

Suddenly, I missed everyone. For three and a half years, we had the same seats in class. We all knew where everyone was supposed to be. We’d all get anxious a few minutes before the professor would walk in. have you read everything the professor assigned to us?

There would be pockets of seats in the room where the more studious students would already be discussing the day’s lesson, while in some corners notably mine, I would still be reading the assigned cases- for the first time.

There would also be times when, I’d decide to gather my things and tell my seatmates, I’m cutting class today. Because I wasn’t brave enough to cram the lesson while I was in class. (And anyway, I always believed that when we were allowed to absent ourselves from 20% of the class throughout the sem- it was our right to do so.)

We'd all laugh together at our mistakes. We'd all comfort each other when we'll have bad recit days. We'd all make fun of our professors, or fear them- together.

Sigh.

Why must a good part of our lives be devoted to saying goodbye?

Where was I? Ah, Narnia.

For the (Block) exchange gifts, I asked for the following:

Narnia: the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe; or,

CD’s: Breakaway (Clarkson) or Inuman Sessions (Parokya) or any Classical CD (string)- but not Vivaldi (I need to hear something else); or,

Oils- for burning… but something fruity… preferably apple… I’m allergic to fragrances that are not of fruit…. Or,

A bookmark…. It doesn’t have to be fancy and expensive. I just need something I can keep track of pages with (I’ll be catching up on my fiction reads during the Holidays). Presently, I’m using either a used movie ticket or a twenty-peso bill.

My “daddy” got me my first wish.

I first became acquainted with Narnia when I saw the trailer for the movie some few months ago. I thought, Hah! Disney’s answer to Potter.

Anyway, the visuals looked promising, and I was really desperate to find another fantasy to whup Harry’s ass, so I resolved to watch Wardrobe when it’ll finally be making its rounds here. {And that’ll be… next year. (Danged Metro Manila filmfest.)}

Narnia is a fantasy world separate from our own, peopled by fauns, satyrs, giants, etc etc. The four Pevensie children are transported onto its snowy slopes when they try to hide in the wardrobe (actually a walk-in closet). It’s eternally snowing in Narnia, because of the powers of the Evil White Witch. The children must combine forces with Aslan the lion in order to free Narnia from the rule of the Witch. To do so, a great sacrifice must have to be made.

Narnia provokes a lot of discussion.

Narnia is actually the second of seven books in the Chronicles of Narnia. It doesn't feel that way when you read it.

When you read the book, it looks like it’s written for children. In fact, while reading it, I’m already imagining how nice it would be if someone read it to me before I slept. Preferably read by someone with a nice warm voice like… Gloria Arroyo … so I can throttle her while she’s completely unawares….

Oi, but seriously, when the book is read by an ordinary, reasonable_ rational adult, s/he starts to ask questions…

Why is the Evil Witch white?

Why is the overlord of Narnia a lion?

Why must there be four children?

Why does time pass in Narnia while here, it stands still.

Why aren’t there any humans in Narnia?

Why must the children grow up to defeat the Witch?

Did the children grow up?

And a dozen more questions, which will only reveal more of the book if I ask it here.

Wardrobe is an easy read; something you can finish while waiting for a delayed flight, and cute enough- even if you restrain yourself from asking questions. Somehow, somewhere, we’re still all children deep down.

Next up: We Were the Mulvaneys (Oates); and A Portrait in Sepia (Allende).

i'm getting even- HAH!

2005-12-21T21:10:00.000+08:00

Is it the 21st of December already?

I hate to say this, but entering Christmas, my spider-sense is tingling like crazy.

Right. I’m not Spiderman. Sooo far from it. I hate arachnids, and I don’t have bug-eyes, and I don’t have a red skin- with a web design. I also don’t eat flies- and I’m not saying that Peter Parker does…. But, well, you get the idea.

The point is, nowadays, I’m finding myself to be a wee bit irascible. okay, it's a little bit bigger than wee. biggwer. irascible- by more than a wee bit. Maybe Scrooge-level irate. Or maybe the word that's more apt is: annoyed.

I know, I know. It’s the Holidays-get some Christmas spirit and all- that I should quit being a Scrooge and everything. But is it my fault if, as we get closer to Christmas, isweartogod- I’m feeling that everybody’s out to con me?

Take a fer instance. Remember that wonderful tradition we’d love to call our own, the one we call caroling? (No, not the one where you pursue Carol….) It’s now being bastardized to death.

Tell me if this isn’t happening to you. Mornings and nights, from the 16th of December, people knock on your doors, and ring on your bells- but they aren’t your friendly Electrolux men.

They give you envelopes; and tell you that they’ll be back for those envelopes on the 22nd, or the 21st- wait, isn’t that tonight?

They tell you that they’re from this NGO that helps poor kids; they’re from an association who builds shelters; they’re nuns. I tell you, the list is endless.

Anyway, so because they’re helping humanity, may they now have the envelopes they gave you yesterday so that they can be on their way, thankyou.

I mean, I’m lucky if they’ll offer to sing carols. Most of them just get their envelopes and say their byyourleaves.

Even the postman does it. And the people who deliver the bills. What if I don’t give them money? They’ll refuse to deliver things to me ever again? Or till X’mas 2006 comes rollin’ round?

Sigh. And you can’t even check up on them easy. Their addresses say that they’ve offices in Las Pinas (I live in QC), or Paranaque, or- godhelpme- Bulacan. Aargh.

I’m fighting back. hah! I’ve had it. Tomorrow evening… I’m putting all the lights out_ and locking the doors... and I'm going to... pretend that I’m not home. HAH!

Pi

2005-12-20T16:42:00.000+08:00

just finished reading Life of Pi (Martel). it's fun not having to worry about Law for a while.

the book is about a religious young boy who is a Muslim, Hindu, and Christian. he and his family are aboard the Tsimtsum, bound for Canada, when their ship sinks. their zoo animals sink along with them, except for a tiger, a hyena, an orangutan, and a zebra, who must share a 23-foot lifeboat with Pi. the hyena dispenses with the zebra and the orangutan. the tiger dispenses with the hyena. how will Pi survive? there are sharks below, and the merciless ocean ahead.

the book makes for a great read. just don't read it while you're eating. you'll know what i mean when you pick up a copy.

kong

2005-12-20T08:46:00.000+08:00

i dont recall having seen the original King Kong (1933), but i do remember catching the 1976 (Jessice Lange) version on a teevee rerun. even though i hadn't reached puberty yet, the most amazing thing i could remember from the movie was that... it was enough to excite your gonads.

i don't know if i missed much by not seeing the '33 version, though i was reading from all quarters that hearing fay wray scream is enough to go and see it. she's the quintessential movie scream, they say. but will i be patient enough to see a black and white oldie? maybe i can reserve my comments for when i can actually see the movie, to see what it can say for its defense.

caught the Jackson (of LOTR) version last saturday. i was hearing faint praise from most everyone, nevermind the length of the epic. i just had to see it for myself.

the movie starts in 1930's new york, america, in the middle of the great depression. all of soup lines and closing establishments. ann darrow (watts) is a vaudeville star who gets part of the collective boot after the theater they're performing in closes down. carl denham (black), a would-be director, sees in her the desparation he believes is an essential part of his movie. he hastens to con ann into joining his outfit. she acquiesces. owing to that desperation denham so badly wants. it also helps things along with ann being the same size as denham's lost lead actress.

they head for the island of the Skull. aboard the ship, ann meets the rest of denham's misfitted cast of geniuses, and the gritty crew of the steamer. she finds the preening star of denham's movie (chandler); there is also the conficted captain of the ship (Kretschmann), the hardy first mate (parke), and his adopted stowaway-son (not legally- Bell).

while the crew is filming, ann falls into ambivalent love with jack driscoll (brody), with whose plays she's fallen in love with a long time ago. and then, to conclude the most boring first third of the movie, the ship finally runs itself aground on the shoals of the Skull.

i remember seeing Kong 1976 and feeling awed by its rendition of the island. CG re-invents the island into something meaner and more tangible. you should see this on the big screen to truly appreciate its magnitude.

on the island, briefly, people are killed, and you'll have a rip-roaring time seeing dinosaurs and bugs, and bigger bugs, and, wonderfully enough, the star of this movie- Kong.

i don't really remember how the 1976 version affected me aside from certain biochemical reactions which signalled my descent into puberty. but jackson's movie will leave you feeling differently. for while watts is easily one of the most beautiful faces to grace the screen, she exudes something more than sheer sensuality. she exudes grace, and a multitude of emotions, lifting her ann darrow to much more than the screaming wraith that she is in her past lives. she'll dance the vaudeville, juggle stones; while we- we fall in love with her alongside Kong. Kong's re-invention is also the highlight of the film. look at his eyes. they're human.

jackson also tries to inject some things into this movie which, observers say, were merely glossed over in the originals and the prior reincarnations. commerce, commercialization, greed, wall street. in the end, we'll all look into the mirror and we'll all think, King Kong is more human than some of us will ever be; we are this world's King Kongs, its monsters.

lantern parade, 2005

2005-12-19T10:35:00.000+08:00

stand up... for your causes....

2005-12-19T10:34:00.000+08:00

Eduk. fiery.

2005-12-19T10:33:00.001+08:00

the usual crowds that gather at the Eng'g steps... where traditionally, the Lanterns perform.

2005-12-19T10:33:00.000+08:00

Arki. too late for thanksgiving.

2005-12-19T10:32:00.000+08:00

the League of Filipino Students.

the University has largely gone the way of the unconcerned.

these kids want to tell us otherwise.

2005-12-19T10:30:00.000+08:00

facing the College of Eng'g. the CHK_ performing people.

they'll execute some nice Cheers later. whoa.

2005-12-19T10:29:00.001+08:00

from FA. a motley of assorted creatures.

2005-12-19T10:29:00.000+08:00

from FA. i don't know what this is supposed to be....

but i'd sure want one of those on my wall.

2005-12-19T10:27:00.001+08:00

brings a whole new meaning to the word redhead. a float by Fine Arts.

nope. i don't want one of those on my wall.

2005-12-19T10:27:00.000+08:00

from Fine Arts. i think this was part of their Fire ensemble. (earth, wind, fire.)

the Parades go on

2005-12-19T10:20:00.000+08:00

Thursday, November 15th, I went to UP early in anticipation of the horrendous traffic that the Lantern Parade will generate. (It wasn’t so horrendous, as I later found out. In the first half of the day, I accompanied Pink to the Antipolo MTC to submit an Explanation. I was able to arrive at UP at around lunchtime.)

The folks at the Admin Building changed the format of the Parade this year, owing to our lack of budget. The paraders were all relegated to walking. Floats weren’t allowed in the contest anymore- though I did see at least one that joined the parade, I think it was from CHK- hauling our varsity players atop them. (Aren’t they supposed to be physically fit? Couldn’t they have walked?)

One fundamental change to the event was the leasing of the Oval perimeter to vendors who’ll be wanting to sell their wares. The result of which was the transformation of the Acad Oval into what looked like an emaciated tiangge. Hardly any vendor rented space. Or maybe that was supposed to be the general idea, I don’t know. That too many of the vendors will unnecessarily commercialize the event.

To add to the woes of the Diliman people, the Admin blocked all entry into the Oval to all vehicles since the start of the week. There was a short moment of confusion when people were asking themselves where they were supposed to pass to get to where they were going.

The Parade started at around 5pm. Which provided enough lead time for the staff at the College of Law to don their uniform shirts together. I think Our Lantern was supposed to be some sort of Unity theme- which the students didn’t get wind of. So much for unity. We’ll say that we’re too busy preparing for the Malcolm Madness, which is scheduled to start at 6pm, by which we mean, 8pm.

Which is why Dean Carlota is planning to decree that the Madness and the Lantern Parade should not thereafter be held on the same day.

I don’t know if he can do that, but it would be a great idea for the College of Law to get its act together and maintain a united front when it came to UP activities. I think we’ve endured a fractious façade for so long that it’s gotten the Dean tired and wanting an upheaval. I’ll say kudos to our new Dean.

Besides hardly any guy in Law has the time nor the expertise to create an award winning Lantern. All we’ll be able to muster is to… don yellow shirts and walk to the judging area together.

There is a moment of, when did the Dean last see a Lantern Parade? Aren’t there supposed to be lanterns in a lantern parade?

Of course, we’re all lawyers and would-be lawyers; we’ll eventually find a way to get around that problem.

In all, the Parade went by quickly- quicker than any of the Parades I’ve ever seen (and I’ve seen eight). Probably because we don’t have any money to make it as long.

And yet, if the Parade will foster the sort of college/ school unity that it’s meant to instill, then money or no money, the Parades must go on.

lantern parade

2005-12-15T05:39:00.000+08:00

as usual, the UP College Of Fine Arts lorded it over all the others in the Lantern Parade last year. they're expected to do so again.

there's a lot of apprehension over how the Lantern Parade will be executed this year. the chancellors have already decreed that the use of floats for this Parade will be banned. i suppose that doesn't automatically mean that the entries will be mediocre. let's hope ingenuity shines through.

floats are being banned supposedly because of austerity measures. UP seems to be getting a smaller budget each year. or even if it's been constant, inflation and taxes are eating away at the budget's buying power. in fact, because of the austerity measures, the aready annual Belen making contest among the colleges has been discontinued. i don't know if that contributes to savings. i only know that Christmas looks to become a little darker this year.

the Fine Arts float pictured above is, by the way, an Aswang. their theme last year consisted of mythical creatures of the Philippines.

i don't know if the theme made for a good lantern parade entry. for all i know they were leftovers from some Halloween gig of Fine Arts, but all the same, people flocked to where Fine Arts was. for as long as they remain true to their college, they will forever remain the main attraction of the UP Lantern Parade and hold us all in thrall.

in her shoes

2005-12-14T16:25:00.000+08:00

saw In Her Shoes (diaz, collette) last night.

i initially wanted to see The Fog (welling). after all, Shoes looked for all the world like your average chick-flick. (i just wasn't in a chick-y mood.)

but then i thought, did i really want to see a movie that had for a poster a cloud with its mouth open? and did i really want to see superman in smallville fighting an earthbound cloud (with its mouth open)? i haven't seen the movie, and i probably won't- nevermind that i call myself a moviebuffwho'llseeanything- but from here, it looks like it's about a sentient cloud that eats people. maybe that's the last thing i need when i've been feeling sick lately, a bad movie that'll serve as an excuse for me to heave away.

anyway, In Her Shoes wasn't such a bad deal. in fact, it was a better deal than i expected. as long as you try to forget that cameron diaz can't act.

diaz also looks old, by the way. her wrinkles are showing, and she isn't as cute as she was in My Best Friend's Wedding (roberts, everett, mulroney). but she works, somehow. though there will be times in the movie when you'll be wondering why the producers couldn't have gotten someone younger. those times, coincidentally, are the times when the film shows closeups of maggie.

the movie is about two sisters who have nothing in common except the size of their feet. maggie (diaz) spends her days picking up men and discarding them as frequently as she's discarded by the jobs she takes. she has this fixation on trying out not a few of her sister rose's (collette) shoes, from what looked like an imelda-esque collection; even purloining them. what girl wouldn't kill for those many shoes. i would.

but it isn't just rose's shoes that maggie steals. maggie also steals rose's boyfriend, which leads rose to drive maggie away for ruining her life; and for generally making everything she (maggie) touches miserable.

but as the story progresses, it is rose (collette) who tries to fit in maggie's shoes. she walks dogs like maggie did, leaving the life of a high flying attorney behind. in the process, she rediscovers love, her own and her sister's, and their family's.

the devil haunting me

2005-12-13T07:29:00.000+08:00

200512130647hrs: T

Emily Rose is powerful because it leaves you dreading demons long after you’d gone out of the cinema. I have friends who tell me that they’ve been waking up at 3am for whatever concern after watching Rose. I always tell them that they shouldn’t worry because they don’t have names compelling enough to become movie titles.

Emily Rose is scary because it reminds us of Hell and its population of demons. That we are entirely helpless- we can’t put up any defenses against the Devil to protect us.

People will say that Faith in God is a defense. But this wasn’t even implied in the movie, with the exorcism failing.

Or it didn’t exactly fail. The whole point of the movie is that God allowed the possession to happen so that we may be reminded that we should be perpetually mindful of our spiritual state, and to impress upon us the existence of the Devil.

I met my own version of the devil two nights ago. It was just little past 3am when the doorbell started ringing incessantly. I woke up and thought, how rude. What kind of emergency could there be to merit this? My mind was still in the shock of being brought to an untimely consciousness to consider the possibilities.

I ran to the gate, looked through the peephole, saw no one there, and went back into the house.

Then the doorbell started acting up again.

I went back to the gate, flushed with anger, yet this anger was also tinged with fear- I was in the midst of the muddle of interrupted sleep. I opened the gate but made sure that I was blocking it with my foot, just in case I needed to close it quickly.

I saw a man hunched over in the darkness. He was bald. By that, I mean that he had no hair. The scalp was clean. That was evident in the dark.

He had on a checkered polo, with a white undershirt.

“Sino ka?” (“Who are you?”), I asked, indignant, at having been woken up in the middle of the night.

He stood silent. I glared at him, not sure what emotions were registering on his face.

“Si Aguinaldo, sir.” (“I am Aguinaldo, sir.”)

I must have looked perplexed because he added, “’yung dating guard sa opisina, sir.” (“The former guard at the office, sir.”)

At that, I looked closely at his face. He was telling the truth. At that moment, my mind was a blur of thoughts. What is he doing here? What does he want? Why is he here? What does he want with me? Why is he bald?

I didn’t know what to do, but anger welled up from somewhere deep inside of me and I scolded him as I said, “diyan ka lang, ah, ‘wag kang aalis! Babalikan kita!” (“Stay there! I’ll come back for you!”) Then I slammed the door on him and walked back to the house in annoyance, while I debated what to do. Once I’d calmed down, I walked back to the gate and opened it. He was gone. I went back to bed and slept.

That was two nights ago, yet I’m reliving the experience in my dreams. The bald man hunched over in the dark. He was once our security guard in the office. He was always smiling, he always looked happy.

He was the best dressed security guard I’d ever seen in my entire life, with shoes polished and hair moussed up with gel. He was always glowing.

That image of him is now replaced with that of the bald man in the street, ringing my doorbell with a sense of desperation. Till I came out to glare at him.

He lost his job. That’s how it is, we’ll say. That’s all it is. But for him and others like him, it means that there will be no more food on the table. No more.

That’s the devil that’s haunting me now.

caught up

2005-12-11T16:47:00.000+08:00

200512111510hrs: S

We have around ten or so dogs. I don’t know the exact count because after the tenth puppy was born, I stopped counting. Having a lot of dogs isn’t necessarily fortunate. I’m close to only two dogs; the rest, sometimes all they seem to be are snouts to feed. Of course, all those food must go somewhere; and the place they go to is usually the other end of my dust pan after I scour around the yard for them in the mornings. The result of which is, I have a very fertile backyard.

They can also be gadawful noisy. When I have visitors, I’ll be enlightened of that fact immediately. The whole neighborhood will be enlightened of that fact immediately.

Of late, the dogs don’t distinguish between wordly and otherwordly visitors- or so my father tells me. For more than a few weeks now, I’m being woken up in the middle of the night by the dogs’ howling. I’m always often in a deep sleep so I’m not bothered. I just wake up for a few seconds, long enough for my mind to register the sound of dogs howling. However, the dogs have got my father spooked, so he says we have to give the dogs away.

Not that I mind. What I am minding though is my father’s reason for giving the dogs away. He says ghosts are inhabiting the backyard. I scratch my head and say, “Why didn’t they inhabit the yard in the summer? Why only now?”

“Switch on every light in the house at night, so ghosts won’t live here,” he says. Then he turns to leave. After making sure that I understood his instructions. I think, what instructions? All that’ll do is to make the electric company richer.

I really don’t know what he’s talking about.

Or maybe I do. Maybe my ghosts have finally caught up with me.

daddy learns to microwave

2005-12-11T10:24:00.000+08:00

morning. Very Early Morning.

my father knocks on my door, announces that he's brought me breakfast and that he's heating it now on the microwave.

i sleepwalk to the sink and brush my teeth. then it hits me. what? my father's using the microwave?!? he hasn't... he doesn't... he can't.... i run to the kitchen, call my dad, hold his arm, then i tell him slowly and clearly, so that he'll understand, "you can't heat that bowl when a fork's still in it."

grown ups.

metaphors

2005-12-11T09:51:00.000+08:00

i suddenly missed NLEX.

a few years ago, i loved going out at the break of dawn and driving to pangasinan. along the way, i'd spend a few minutes at the Shell station at Bocaue to have coffee and lie down and just think of anything that comes to mind. mostly, i'd be peppered by thoughts of, wow, the night sky is beautiful. (it is.) or of jeez, what would the world be like if it were in eternal darkness? (darkly beautiful.)

strange thoughts. wonderful thoughts. i wish i were in that mental place again.

i stopped going to pangasinan on a whim after i'd experienced several things going wrong with my car. flat tires (i'll have at least two a year), overheating engines, my car stalling. it would have been disastrous if i'd go through any one of those while the world was still sleeping.

i suppose you could say that i was suddenly stripped of my innocence. it will be some time before i can regain enough courage to venture out at night again. it's strange how metaphors can sneak up on you when you're not looking.

loveless in december

2005-12-10T11:51:00.000+08:00

it's a lazy saturday. we have a meeting later at 1730h with the new Director of the Office of Legal Aid, Prof. Te. but the way this day is plodding along, that time seems like it's still very far off into the future.

i currently have two friends who have been dumped by their boyfriends. (i'm calling it bluntly, but truthfully. that's the truth, and if it sucks, well, suck up your guts and bear with it because no amount of prettifying with semantics is going to change anything.) one of them is staying alive, looking, for all the world like the brave soldier's daughter that she is. yet she wakes up in the middle of the night, at 3am, blaming Emily Rose for all her worries. i see things differently. she's haunted by demons all right but those demons don't come from hell.

as for my other friend- she's barely functioning. she's been a very diligent student in the college of law, but of late, she's been missing classes. presumably because the pain is becoming too much to bear.

it's funny that i now look at things with a sense of detachment, having passed through the same experience some few years ago. when people tell you that what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, it's true, whether by its making your hide thicker, or by helping you look at the world differently. i partook of the second change.

my biggest realization is that this World is bigger than any of us. before mankind walked the earth, the dinosaurs considered this world their own- for millions of years. how long has mankind existed? we haven't even reached the millionth year mark. and yet we'll all view certain setbacks as if it's the end of the world. it's not. we've a tendency to equate our own existence with this world's. truth is, this world will not cease to exist even if we do. so why suffer over pain when in a million years, no one's going to care. what we should all just do is pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and continue walking. there's no sense in wasting time. continue walking. shit happens; move on.

what about grieving? well, allow yourself to grieve. that's your right and prerogative. i can't take that away from anyone. in fact you have your whole life to grieve- at nights, when you've nothing better to do- in your dreams. grieving doesn't mean that your whole life has to come to a halt. grieve for the good times- because there were- but move on. move on, my friends. let's.

great taste

2005-12-09T07:24:00.000+08:00

i'm writing this while i'm in the grip of vivaldi (yes, vivaldi again. i don't recall where i put my other classical cd's.). it's like being boxed in a wall of sound. my thoughts have difficulty seeping through this musical membrane.

it doesn't matter. class is still at 1400h, and i don't seem to have a lot of reading assignments, so i'm going to enjoy this for a while.

i've quietly regained my addiction to brewed coffee. not that i mind. it's just that_ it's a little bit expensive, hehe.

i say quietly because, it's not as if my addiction to caffeine went away. its always been there. i mean, i can't really function if i don't have my caffeine fix. and everyone knows that, because i tell them. this gives me at least two advantages. the first and greatest advantage is, soon as people see me in the morning, one of the first things they'll say is, "gusto mo ng coffee, Oliver?" i'll just shyly smile my assent- i won't say no- and maybe allow them to get me coffee. or i'll go with them. (i'll go with anyOne for coffee.) the second advantage is that it gives me an excuse whenever i'm incredibly shitty in the morning. and it's an automatic excuse, if you must know. i don't have to volunteer it. people will say, "ah, siguro di pa 'yan nakapagkape kaya ganyan 'yan." (i love my friends.)

where was i?

ah, slowly regaining my addiction to brewed coffee.

i find that i alternate between brewed coffee and instant coffee. i suspect that it has something to do with my being too lazy to clean the coffee machine. it's morning. i need to drink brewed coffee but the 'maker needs cleaning. Ohwell, i know i have some Great Taste (instant) here somewhere.

I look for instant coffee. and if i don't find some, i go to the store to buy some.

should i have to say that the store's a fifteen minute walk away? is that easier than cleaning my coffee maker?

so there it is. i eschew brewed coffee (aka, cleaningthecoffeemaker) for a while until my head aches- violently enough to force me to bring out brush and cleaning fluid and clean the 'maker. i was in that mood three days ago, after some couple of months believing that i could survive on instant coffee.

i can't. it's something i won't be able to do without.

of course, after washing the damn thing, i realized that i didn't have any paper filters left. i know i still have some Great Taste here somewhere....

garci in da house

2005-12-08T08:41:00.000+08:00

i joined my father for dinner last night. he finished his dinner in two minutes flat. i asked whether i was that repulsive, not to merit even three minutes' dinner time. he laughed, saying that he was in a hurry because he was going to watch the Circus. what circus was that, i asked? Chicago came to mind. the garci circus, he said, laughing as he rushed off to his room.

garci's testifying in congress, something i didn't expect him to do. maybe i was just being stupid, haha.

i was going through the inquirer webpage quickly- i had a class in an hour- and saw its caption on the frontpage photo- which says that garci's feeling at home in the House. i guess garci Should go to Congress and testify. he has nothing to lose. it's difficult to ignore the hoopla that he might even have helped these guys (in Congress) secure their posts. the "helpees" won't do anything to put garci in harm's way when they- or their principals- are indebted to him.

sigh. sometimes, you just want to escape from all of these things.

linear

2005-12-05T08:51:00.000+08:00

200512041920hrs: S

Sipping hot Milo, from a vending machine,in the College of Law. Its hallways are bereft of light, save for certain areas in the parking lot.

I'm waiting for the eight o'clock mass to start. There's no better way to reflect on the events that transpired this past week than to sit still in the dark and just_ ponder.

As if whatever happened to me this past week was earth shattering. They're just your basic weekly occurences that have been_ a part of my life since I set foot in the College of Law. It's funny how they're all facsimiles of each other. Deadlines, exams, recitations, classes. Except now, in my final year, we have OLA, our internship program (which our new Director, Prof. Te, tells us, is now being emulated by Ateneo. Except theirs is longer, at 1.5years). Everything in my life seems able to blend into one event, indistinguishable from the others. Will I want to live this kind life till I'm old and graying? What other things are there to do so that I can get rid of this ennui, this sameness?

The halls of the school are dark, lit only by the vendo machine beside me. We're often told that ghosts roam these halls. I don't have to imagine them to see them. Because I have my own bevy of ghosts surrounding me.

What if life wasn't linear? Great. I started thinking this while I was driving to here. It's bad enough that I'm driving at night on the most accident-prone highway in the world (Commonwealth Avenue), my subconscious has to butt in and engage me in pointless banter.

What if life wasn't linear? What if we could live each of its parts simultaneously? What if we could pick out one or more of those parts that we'll live (forgetting the rest)?

Sigh. Then I won't have to live in the here and now.

The clock's moving to 8pm. The sky is so clear you can see the stars. (I miss Iloilo at night.) I close my eyes and make a wish.... I make a second wish- that my first wish will come true. The air is calm. There isn't a breeze to carry my prayer to the heavens. I turn to the darkness behind me and tell the phantoms surrounding me of my desires. And when I wake up, I'll want it to be dawn....

deluding myself

2005-12-03T21:13:00.000+08:00

trying to pretend that i'm bored and that i have nothing to do tonight. right.

i walk over to the kitchen, scour the fridge, pick out a bowl and... i should throw that out... i pick out another bowl and... this one's rancid.... another one... i peer inside_ maybe i can eat this tomorrow so that i don't have to order out.

i notice that the freezer door is ajar. what's keeping it open? oh, fruit salad. must be from the neighbor. must have been my brother who put it there. (say goodbye to the fruit salad bowl, my dear brother.)

where was i?

i was trying to fool myself into thinking that i haven't a thing to do.

of course, the truth is, i really have to attend to some pleadings- there's a position paper that i have to submit to the NLRC by next week (though i've to have my Super check it first). and then there's this hearing that i've to attend on tuesday. (it's a Cross, so i have to prepare for it.)

and yet sometimes_ why is it just so easier to be lazy?

so here i am, stuffing my mouth full of buko shavings and canned fruit and cream- doing absolutely nothing....

dum dee dum dee dum.

i promise i'll exercise tomorrow. =)

first december post!

2005-12-03T20:26:00.000+08:00

whoa! i didn't realize that it's been a month since i last posted an entry.

december's again upon us. why does it seem like yesterday, it was still_ January? why does it seem like it was only yesterday when i last posted an entry in this blog. sigh. i guess the recurring theme for today is: "migod, wasn't it just yesterday when...?"

a few days ago, my brother shocked everyone by announcing that he was going to get married. married! that seems like such a big step. i mean, even i'm not married yet. how can he be getting married? i called my mother on the phone, telling her a dozen times how shocked i was. odel is 23; i'm 29. she replies that maybe i'm just shocked because my brother's getting married ahead of me. i tell her she's nuts. i'm Never going to get married. hah!

my brother and i have never really been close. we can't ever be, because we're so different. i love books; he doesn't. i love to have my quiet time alone; he loves to invade it. when he joined me in my apartment in makati after he started working, we treated each other like dorm mates. all of, "hi, mates," and nothing else.

oh, we'd briefly engage in a little banter. but it would only last for ten, fifteen minutes at the most, then i'd slowly close the door on him.

my brother isn't book smart, he's street smart. quite my opposite. not to say that i'm smart- smart. i only know what i do from reading books. but there you have it. where the books meet the streets, it's not always a happy place to be in. especially if both of you think the other's wrong. (but he IS.)

my brother's getting married! i'm still in shock. wasn't it just yesterday when i was still pushing him on his baby bike? (cue theme music.)

sigh.

barely coherent

2005-11-02T08:05:00.000+08:00

If it were any year other than 2005, today would be a holiday.

I was complaining to everyone I knew since the weekend started that this year’s holiday schedule was all mucked up. One more reason for the dwarf in Malacanang to resign.

And yet somehow, in hindsight, I’m hard pressed to blame anyone for this schedule. Ramadan will be ending on the 4th; if we’ll hold the 2nd as a holiday, which it is, traditionally, we’ll be having a one day work week. I can already hear the businessmen complaining. (Though I definitely won’t be.)

-

I’m anxiously waiting for the NBA games to start. The second game for the 2005-06 season will be airing Live in a few minutes (the first for the season is on NBA radio). I’m also waiting for Color Coding to lift, so that I can hurry to the Office of Legal Aid to rush a letter that I’ve to send off to a client.

I also have to examine an Order from a court denying two Motions of mine. Bad news received over the weekend is bad enough, receiving it with an extended break looming is murder on the nerves. I've to see the Order so that I can cook up a remedy in time. With the extended weekend a day away, it may prove difficult for me to look for someone (my SL or our Director) to check and sign my pleading. My ass will be in hot water if I miss a court deadline.

Or I could just stay at home and try to relax. Why shouldn't I let the next intern (for the second semester) handle this problem? After all, I'm not that sure that I'll get the same cases that I've had this past semester.

But my conscience is harassing me. You created this problem; you’ve already made an earlier booboo concerning the same client (I submitted a Motion to Set Pretrial prematurely). Might not it more proper for you to do everything in your power to remedy it? Not a minute to spare.

I know I’ll have to make mistakes with law practice, especially now that I’m only allowed by the good graces of the Supreme Court (student practice, through the Rules of Court) to practice law, but it would have been easier on my conscience if no third party would have to be affected.

I guess that settles the debate on whether I should take myself to task for my denied Motion. I’m going to the Office of Legal Aid immediately after Coding lifts. Of course, I’ll try to see if I can still watch even a few minutes of NBA basketball (Spurs-Nuggets).

-

I spent the last few days lamenting the fact that I don’t have enough money to buy every book I want to buy.

Some years ago, I was under the illusion that I could. Credit cards can do that to you. Of course, until now, I am still paying, with interest, everything I bought for the last eight years. That helped me wean off my dependency on credit cards permanently.

Credit cards addle your brain. If you’re not strong enough mentally- and I’m not- you can go walking around believing... that you'v a bottomless wallet. It’s probably akin to that feeling we all have when we’re teenagers, when we think we’re indestructible. We’re not. And we can’t really buy everything with plastic. We’re only suspending payment to the items we pick up until we’re billed.

Which reminds me. I owe my brother around 4k on a pair of glasses I had made for myself. I didn’t have any ready cash then, and he offered me the use of his credit card to buy the pair (which came with free sunglasses). Thankgod the bill hasn’t arrived yet. I still have to pay some money for tuition, and my thirteenth month pay hasn’t been released yet. Here’s to hoping that it will be. Soon.

Where was I? Ah, lamenting.

I was lamenting the fact that I couldn’t buy every book that I’d taken a fancy to.

I spent the last couple of days prowling Booksales. Sunday, James, Jun, (my friends, not the disciples) and I went to the Araneta Center to watch a Ginebra game. We couldn’t get in. The whole coliseum was at a Standing Room Only. Even the scalpers ran out of tickets.

I was a mixed bottle of emotions. I was happy that the PBA was finally starting to regain its former glory, if even for Ginebra games- and I was disconsolate that the three of us weren’t able to get in. We just looked around for some restaurant that had a teevee. Shakey’s usually works out, but not that time. We finally found a teevee at Burgoos.

After Burgoos, we drifted over to Fully Booked (Gateway). Heaven. For a moment. Until I remembered that I hadn’t any money on me. I came crashing back to earth.

-

I got myself a copy of a 1999 National Geographic yesterday. The issue featured genes and the Universe.

I used to have a subscription for the magazine, but after I started seeing three-month old copies of NatGeo selling for less than my subscription rates, I promptly started thinking: stop subscribing. Must be how NatGeo earns its moneys, through discount sales.

-

Sigh. At the end of a long weekend, and at the cusp of another, my thoughts are barely coherent.

dawn

2005-10-29T06:00:00.000+08:00

At the break of dawn, I’m getting visions of a future that might have been. They sting.

It’s funny how the present is shaped. All of accidents and misfortune. Sometimes causing you pain and at other times, joy.

Nine years ago, I thought I’d already planned out a life. A couple years after that, I took to revising that plan. A few more years after, the plan was revised for me. I wear my heart on my sleeve and talk to people and they say that everything will be alright. Maybe things are written differently- that’s why I was thrown to the wolves in darkness.

Then I ask, who writes things differently? I thought we were free. Why must wonderful thought-out plans not come to fruition and cause you despair?

That’s life. You get bombarded with clichés. You rue them. Yet that all the cliché exist- it must be because there’s some truth to them.

Not before long, you realize that you’ve now become jaded. You’re a walking wound, oblivious to the world around you.

Shit happens. If only the pain would go away. Your friends tell you that it will.

Sometimes, I think that pain doesn’t really go away. You only forget them. That’s what time is for, to erode memories. Or to bury them in some deep recess of your brain. (You hope they never get found.)

And yet… who was it who wrote that, “there are some wounds that won’t heal, not even with a thousand tellings.” Jane Smiley? Sitting here, in the dark, while waiting for dawn to break, I’m suddenly faced with the harsh reality of those words.

It’s the semestral break. School starts in two weeks, though I don’t think I’ll be getting much of a vacation. I’d have wanted to go to Pangasinan to recharge, and to breathe cleaner air for a change. But the holiday schedule for next week is all mucked up. There is work only on Wednesday and Thursday. The rest of the week, regular employees get the days off. You work for two day-weeks and you’re on a rollercoaster of emotion. You get the Monday Blues on Wednesday and it’s a TGIF on Thursday. I don’t know how well the body will cope with alternating highs and lows.

A teammate of mine tells me that I’ve an Order from the court informing me that two of my Motions have been rejected. I’ll have to check those out on the 2nd and think up a remedy till the next day.

For the first time in my life, I think I’m facing a November 2nd that’s not a holiday. And only because the 4th is (Ramadan- Eid Al Fitr?). I’m hard pressed to guess when the roads going to the North will be clogged. Will the masses make a run for the province this morning or has everyone already done it last night? If I go to Pangasinan now, will I be stuck in traffic or will I be coasting along? Maybe it’ll be better for me and my ass to just sit the long break out at home. But what to do in the meantime? Ah, there’s a Ginebra game tomorrow at the Araneta. Maybe I should just buy a ticket and watch.

Sigh.

flu

2005-10-20T17:30:00.000+08:00

i left home early so i could finish all the work that needed to be done at the office of legal aid.

it wasn't meant to be. nearing jollibee, philcoa- i intended to have a light breakfast- i suddenly began sensing a headache in its nascent stages. i headed for home. i thought that the things i needed to do, i could do them at home; i'll just mail the memos to myself and print it out later in the day, at OLA, when i'll have been feeling better.

things weren't easier. i stopped by Starbucks to give my body a chance to heal itself. maybe all i needed was a cup of caffeine. i wasn't feeling too chummy with instant coffee of late. i told the barrista that i would be having a double short americano. i also ordered a croissant for a pseudo-breakfast. i wasn't feeling any better, so i headed for home.

at home, i couldn't parlay the thought of my work piling up on me, so after a big gulp of air, i headed back to UP.

i almost wasn't able to finish the case statuses and their respective tables of contents because my head was starting to feel stuffy. i was also developing a very bad cold.

at close to eleven, i started back for home. nevermind that i was still scheduled to make three memoranda of law for our Director. i couldn't work with a burgeoning headache.

i was also starting to feel the chills. in fact, when i turned off the aircon, and even with my car baking in the midday sun, the temperature still felt right. i decided then that i had a fever. i went home, endured the chills, and tried to sleep my fever off.

it's almost six. i still feel sick- sick enough to avoid work of any kind. i think i'll just wait for the simpsons on cable.

funny, 'no? you get to have half the day off from work when you're sick, but you won't be able to enjoy it. sometimes, i just want to run away from it all.

clarity- through the haze

2005-10-18T16:39:00.000+08:00

lot came in at about 0315h. right on time. i figured that we only needed about a half hour to get to shell (bocaue), nlex. of course, that was by my own driving standards. i didn't know how fast or how slow she drove.

shell, nlex, at 0400. the rest of lot's officemates were already there, eating breakfast.

i've always loved travelling at dawn, when the night's all set to go and wane. the streets are devoid of people, leaving only yourself and your demons. sometimes, it just makes it easier to think when you're away from the din of humanity. in the wee hours going to sunrise, the world is your own, if even for a moment.

on the way to manaoag, lot and i got to talking about risk. and fate. somehow the two intertwine, and are related. one moved by the other.

what is life? why do people say when bad things happen to you that, "maybe it just wasn't meant to be"? i can't, for the life of me, understand that line.

what do you mean by things being meant to be? are you saying that there is a Plan hovering over our heads, governing our every thought, our every action?

why is it that when we talk about accidents or unfortunate events, we always have to allude to a plan?

i think it's just one way of comforting ourselves. disaster befell us, but we shouldn't worry. there's a brighter future ahead of us. because this bad thing that happened, it's only meant to be. thus do we comfort ourselves during our times of need. stay put, cry all you want, let it all out- because tomorrow, there'll be sun.

me, i haven't seen the sun in six years. (who was it who wrote that, "there are some wounds that will not heal, even with a thousand tellings."? jane smiley? does it matter?)

our lives are our own. our own futures are ours to carve. if there's going to be a bright future for us, it's because we will it, not because it's all planned out for us. saying that everything's all planned out is the ultimate cop out. most of these bad things that happen to us- we brought these things upon ourselves.

i remember my religion teachers trying to drill into our heads this paradox. we are free; but we are only free to do what is right.

you'd think that it was lawyers talking. hairsplitting.

and yet you realize that we really don't have much of a choice. you live out this life believing you're free so you do anything you're wont to do. then when you die, you realize that you've to account for all your misdeeds. pascal's wager.

somewhere in tarlac, talk shifted to risk and risk-taking, and we came to a conclusion: it's more risky not to take risks. (but it sure needs a helluva lot of courage.)

all a jumble of thoughts. and yet on the expressway, at dawn, with the sun rising, everything was clear.

monday random thoughts

2005-10-17T20:01:00.000+08:00

trying to save today's newspapers onto my Palm. the server's slow tonight. should i still go out and watch a movie?

-

went to manaoag last sunday.

i accompanied lot, and her quirky friends, who i hope will Never get to read this. hah!

no, seriously, they were a blast. i've never been more comfortable with a group of strangers. plus: i didn't think it was still cool to catch early sunday mass at manaoag- whn you're coming from manila.

i woke up at the ungodly hour of 2am. we were supposed to meet up at shell, nlex at 0400.

the plan was originally to hook up by 0330; later, the group bumped it to 4am. i didn't think the whole trip would push through. not when everyone kept on messing with the schedule. soon it'll be, "let's set it to 0430." then it becomes, "let's meet at 0500." later on, someone will volunteer, "let's just meet in 2007." that's how most of my gigs turn out.

whatdoyouknow, it pushed through. and the guys even arrived at shell earlier than we did (which was at 4am). they were already eating breakfast.

re the Invite to go to pangasinan. i Just had to go. lot's a very dear friend whom i haven't seen much of; couple that with the fact that i needed time off from manila, and there you have the makings of an escape.

speaking of manila. these past couple of weeks, i go home to a subdivision covered in fog. i think, wow, it's like baguio. we've got fog! here in manila!

then i remember that manila doesn't get cold enough to Have fog. even during the Christmas season. as i step out of my car, i realize that it's not fog but smog. i gag. it's like dawn of new year's, when the firecrackers from the night before cover the metro with this dark, suffocating haze. i should wear an oxygen mask each time i step off into the streets of manila. i swear. i'm better off chain smoking.

manaoag.

i had my brother drop me off at jollibee, philcoa. bless his kind soul. it's difficult riding a jeep when i'm wearing my contact lenses. i'm afraid dust will get into my eyes; i'm afraid the wind will blow them off their proper places (my iris, i'm assuming). i'm afraid i'll be robbed while my contacts seek refuge in my eyelids. i imagine the cops asking me to describe the robbers while i try to make some gadawful explanation about how i hate riding in the jeeps while i'm wearing my contacts. and that i couldn't See the robbers because the wind blew the lenses off my cornea.

jollibee, philcoa is open for 24 hours. i don't know why they do it. i can't imagine there being much in the way of profit from loafers, or from those low-lifes who walk the streets of manila at midnight.

i think the original idea was for them to attract the thorng of people from the University who study late into the night.

guess what. University people don't study. and those who do are holed up in some little burrow of theirs. what self-respecting nerd would want to study in a fast food joint? they should just open round the clock once the Finals week starts creeping in. there's a University full of crammer s right at their doorstep.

at jollibee, i promptly ordered a cup of coffee while i waited for lot.

to be contnued....

phantoms

2005-10-15T18:39:00.000+08:00

Wow. As fast as the Final Exams season had come, it’s just as rapidly going.

What does it mean when all you can think of most days is that time is passing you by? And at the speed of light, it seems.

We had our last exam this morning. Well, the last exam for me, at least. I think a few more of my friends still have a Proj Dev (Project Development) exam tomorrow.

What do I care? Haha. I’ve no more exams! for the moment, and I have practically the whole evening to catch up on my sleep. Tomorrow, I’m hitching a ride to Manaoag, Pangasinan. We leave Manila at 0230h.

Sigh. Manaoag. The trip’s ostensibly to accompany a friend. To and back. Probe deeper and I’m really trying to find a balm for my melancholy. I’m hoping that maybe even that tiniest whiff of air that’s from outside of Metro Manila will breathe life back into me. I don’t know. What’s the salve for sorrow? Hasn’t anyone bottled the stuff up yet? (And we call ourselves advanced and intelligent.)

I feel like I’m letting someone else’s pain seep off me.

And I can’t help it because I can’t seem to keep the phantoms at bay. I try to hold them off, but I’m no match for a hundred thousand intangibles. I let the phantoms win. And I watch, as if detached from my own body, as I’m carried off deep into the darkest recesses of the earth. I need to have someone find me. (bring a torch.)

in between phases

2005-10-11T08:18:00.000+08:00

nowadays, my dog is my only constant.

i keep waking up mornings thinking one thing and disbelieving them as the day progresses. like i'm in some sort of limbo. or like i'm in a coma, and details whiz by past me while my world remains in stasis. when will i ever wake up?

i guess when you start to look at it that way, it really does seem like i'm emerging from a coma with each day that i wake up. i'm 29. i look at the mirror and the mirror confirms that. where have all the years gone? i can barely remember them, even as i flit through memory. though i see my past, everything seems contrived, like i didn't live the past ten years at all. it's all been so unreal.

and it's not an unreality that ends in a happy ending. i mean, it's not like i wake up one morning and all of a sudden, i'm lying supine on a bedful of money, and my wife's lying beside me, clutching a fistful of money, and my daughter's giggles can be heard from across the hall (and my dog's barking at me to let her out to pee). but here it is- here i am. i'm waking up each day still surprised that i'm here now, in the present. at This present. i don't know what i'm doing here.

how does this bode for the future?

motion day

2005-10-08T00:26:00.000+08:00

i had a motion hearing today -yesterday? what time is it? is it already past midnight?- okay, yesterday- i mean friday. my client and i can't find one of our repondents (we have three) so we moved that we be granted permission by the court to issue Summons through publication.

funny thing, this mode of service. the Rules of Court say that the primary mode of serving Summons is "personally". the process server has to hand it to the respondent himself. in lieu of that, the Courts allow you to serve Summons by substituted service.

there are two modes of substituted service. the first is by leaving the Summons at the place of residence with anyone of sufficient age and discretion or by leaving the Summons at the place of work. the second mode is by publishing the summons. we're asking that we be allowed to publish. saves us the trouble of having to ask for the bailiff to serve the Summons again. (we have to pay for his "transportation expenses".)

of course, if the court allows us to publish, we'll be looking for some obscure newspaper that charges peanuts, so we can go on with our lives with our moneys intact.

a friend of mine was telling me that there was this newspaper that thrived on publishing Summons. (what's the plural of "Summons"? Summonses?) as if the news articles were only put there so that they can be classified as a newspaper.

go figure. i don't know if publishing in a newspaper that no one's ever heard of is going to inform anybody. but those are the rules. it's allowed, so go do it.

what was my point again?

ah, the motion hearing.

i was expecting stiff opposition from adverse counsel, so i took care to reMemorize the pertinent provisions in the Rules and bone up on recent jurisprudence on the topic. i was prepared for a fight.

what do you know. when i arrived at the courtroom, the staff told us that the judge was away on a Supreme Court function, and that the roll would just be called.

after the roll, i was made to sign an attendance sheet, and promptly told that i can go. my motion is already submitted for resolution. without need of argument. i didn't even get to see if my opposing counsel made his appearance.

i didn't know if i would be happy that they didn't ask me to wait for the judge (who was ostensibly going to be late) or if i would rather be throwing a fit for the time i wasted. go figure.

din

2005-10-07T23:13:00.000+08:00

I’m trying to drown out the din of the world. It can all get so confusing sometimes, the noise- voices, calling you, asking you to come hither, leading you astray.

As if there was a life’s path that you can be led astray from. Like supposing that upon being born, we’re supposed to follow this one path, till life’s end. Life’s path- till death do you part.

And yet we open ourselves to the possibility that we can be led astray. From life’s path. There you go. We’re off the path. From there, where do we go? Can we get back on the path? How?

For years now, I’ve been grieving over the fact that we don’t have full control over our lives. Why must I? It’s a fact of life. It happens to you; it happens to everyone else. You plan; you think you've the rest of your life mapped out. Then everything goes down the drain in an instant.

Yet it can still astonish me- this realization that there are a dozen, a million other hands that will wreak havoc on whatever plans we have. History calls them the sister Fates. {Thus has man ascribed this loss of control to the handiwork of womenfolk who spend eternity weaving our lives. (And interweaving it with others’.)} But when it happens to us, we simply dismiss it as bad luck or a turn for the unfortunate. Sometimes, all you can do is sit still, wonder, and silently weep.

We may not know it, but the world weeps with us.

rebirth

2005-10-01T08:44:00.000+08:00

i was talking to a friend last night and somehow, things steered their way to the topic of Rebirth.

i want to be Reborn. i want to scrap everything i have now and rewrite everything.

the problem is, that last sentence smacks of at least two premises: 1.) that one can be reborn; and, 2.) that assuming you're reborn, you won't end up where you are today.

when i say Rebirth, i mean it literally. literally disappearing and just finding myself in the womb of my mother. literally starting all over again.

i don't know. is it normal to come to that point in your life when you just want to erase everything and start all over? i guess i'm in that rut now.

next.

assuming i'm reborn, given that it's still Me, won't i end up where i am now? (then it'll all be pointless.)

probably not. though some may argue that where we are, and what we are today, is owing to a set of choices that we made. if we were still the same person, we'd make the same choices. probably not. because for one, i'll have a sudden sense of dejavu and be forewarned immediately. cellular memory. and then i think that that's only part of the picture.

sure, we decide where we go from wherever, and our decisions are based on who we are and possibly who we want to be. and yet, our lives are also governed by Chance. there are so many different variables that could differ and lead us to make an entirely different choice. even waking up a minute later than when you should would lead to an entirely different outcome (cum future).

you also have to consider that where you are now_ it's not solely dependent on your choices. it also depends on the choices made by the people around you. those you meet; those whose decisons matter because they affect your life. how they decide is a matter of Chance on your part. one tiny variable that will differ for them means that they'll decide differently. thereby tossing your whole life into another future.

millions of possibilities. i'm already getting dizzy just thinking about them. now if only i could be reborn.

oi, but i'm taking my dog with me.

forever young

2005-09-30T06:46:00.000+08:00

I read somewhere that your skin starts aging at age 25. From thereon in, I suppose everything goes downhill, skin wise.

Age doesn’t have much meaning for me. For me it’s just a number you recite robotically when someone asks what age you are. It’s something you write in forms.

I’ve always thought that throughout our lives, we remain the same person. We only “age” after we see how harsh the world can be. That you need to work in order to survive. That you have to fight for a spot for promotion. That you have to keep always on guard so you can keep your spot in a long line.

You skin starts aging at age 25, but you, what you are- who you are, at your core- you could start aging earlier.

newNess

2005-09-29T09:12:00.000+08:00

after losing my wallet a few days ago, i now have a new school ID, a new driver's license, new cards. granted that my hair looks mussed up in all my pictures (owing to the harassing processes in procuring them), it kind of makes you wonder about life.

breathe. take a step back. see everything in relation to everything else. you lose something or somethingS, you get another or others in return. newER things. not necessarily better things but they're there, to replace the void, what was/ were lost.

that's how life is. it just IS. you get bombarded by jaded niceties like: "nothing is permanent except change," or, "when a door closes, a window opens"- or my personal favorite: when a door closes, a door opens.

that last one kind'a throws you off track, 'no? my boss said it during one of our meetings. he must have been either drunk the night before or he was still in his early morning funk and getting confused with his metaphors. whatever it was, it made a boring meeting bearable.

what was my point again?

ah. the newNess of things. filling the gaps in the void. but only if we're lucky and they get filled. otherwise, they're forever lost.

and then, sometimes_ don't you just send this wish to the High Heavens? can we keep everything we have now? or had then. you just Have to presume that that wish cannot be granted.

i don't know. why do you think the world works the way it does?

ugh

2005-09-26T20:38:00.000+08:00

I woke up early today to polish my Memorandum of Law. My deadline's tomorrow (yet, but it's near enough to induce panic- it'll be a close call tomorrow); and I still spotted a couple of typo's this morning. Come to think of it, I have to revise it again tomorrow, at noon, before I send it out.

The Memorandum is thick. I had it xeroxed, for 15 copies. Along with the attachments- the decisions of the administrative agencies in this case- the whole set cost me PhP595.00. For 50¢ per page.That's a total 1,200 pages! I'm already dreading how I'm going to send the thing out to the Court of Appeals and to the parties. They won't fit in a letter envelope. I suppose I'll have to find envelopes that would fit them.

Next.

After checking on my Memo one last time, I rushed to the LTO (the Land Transportation Office) to get a duplicate driver's license. (My wallet was stolen last Thursday. The cash I lost was negligible- PhP20- but along with the wallet- which is a knock off bought in Singapore- I lost ATM cards, ID's, and my License.) The whole process took 4 hours (although including the lunch hour). Here's the outline for the whole procedure.

Fall in line to get your affidavit of loss.
Fall in line to get an application to have your license verified.
Fill it up.
Fall in line to submit the application.
Fall in line to get your certification.
Go to another building 100m to 150m away.
Fall in line to ask for instructions.
Fall in line at Window 5.
Wrong line. (There are three window 5's within a 10meter radius.)
Fall in line at the right Window 5- to get an application for a license.
Fill it up.
Fall in line to submit your application.
Wait for your name to be called- to have your picture taken.
(Picture taken.)
Wait for your name to be called- for paying.
(Pay.)
Wait for your name to be called- to claim your ID card.

What a long drawn out process! I was in my mother's womb for a shorter time. No wonder fixers abound. Nothing as tempting as a quick Fix when you're faced with a half day's worth of waiting for your name to be called.

Of course, you can't entirely be sure that the License and receipt the fixers will be giving you is genuine. And yet you get the feeling that it is. How else can fixers enter the LTO compound without the blessing of someone from the beaurocracy?

Maybe that's why there is the "long, drawn out process," to discourage people from going through it and taking the fixers' ways instead. My head hurts just considering all the dark possibilities.

Anyway, I spent half the time waiting looking for odd things at the LTO. Here is something I found. Mind the sign.

If smoking is absolutely prohibited, why is there a spot reserved for them under the mango tree? It's bad enough that trees in the center islands (of roads) are suffocating from automobile exhaust; here we have to bombard a tree that's far from where cars mill with cigarette smoke. I pity the trees in this country, especially that smoke tree at the LTO.

Here's another thing that's weird. 11 years ago, when my friend James and I took a driving exam- which we had to pass, for us to get a license- we used this beat up owner-jeep to run around obstacles (long sentence).

That was 11 years ago. Fast forward to the present and, guess what? The examinees are still using the same beat up old jeep. Here it is.

If it was old and beat up eleven years ago, I wonder how it is today. I'm just glad I'm not taking that driving exam today.

vivaldi and peace

2005-09-25T18:44:00.000+08:00

drowning my fatigue in vivaldi. i didn't realize that making a memorandum would take me more than 48 hours and cost me a gazillion units of iq. my mind tells me i have to sleep, but i've OD'd on caffeine and my body won't let me.

or maybe it will, but not without a fight. i'm too tired to.

tired.
weary.

i dream of lazy afternoons. i'm sitting on a carpet of grass, sheltered by a big tree with wide umbrella branches. the wind is blowing.

i'm doing nothing. maybe gnawing on a blade of grass. it's dirty? it doesn't matter. i roll my pantslegs up to my knees and just watch the winds move the clouds. like sails without a ship.... there's one that looks like a ship. with a sail.

sigh. blessed sleep. take me.

Horrible last two days

2005-09-24T23:35:00.000+08:00

Shitty last two days

I had a terrible run up to the weekend.

Thursday, I went to my supervisor’s office in Makati to have my Motions signed (I’m just an intern so I need the signature of a real lawyer before I can submit any pleadings). I didn’t bring my car because I wanted to save on gas. The price of fuel is already too prohibitive, and it’s still rising. I took the train instead; and a cab after that, because I wasn’t too sure that I’d be able to locate my super’s office in time before he left for a meeting.

I reached the office, in time. It was a pretty new building. Squeaky clean. The lobby was like a hotel’s sans the bellhops. The elevator controls were all alien to me. I was used to riding ancient elevators. My super’s room had a wonderful view of the city.

After I had the pleading signed, I looked for a grocery store where I can buy my mother some food. She worked near my super’s office and I hadn’t seen her in a while so I thought I should stop by, chat, and give her a hug, if even for a few minutes. I found a store. I bought my mother chocolates, and coffees, and bread, and crackers, and tea.

After paying for the foodstuff, I hailed a cab. I didn’t want to look sweaty when I see my mom. And if I’d get to my mother’s office early, I might still have time to study for and attend my two o’clock class. After a couple of blocks, I realized that I had left my pleadings at the grocery store. In near panic, I asked the cab driver to let me off.

Now, the problem with the Makati Business District is that, except for a few spots where people could wait for buses and jeepneys, the whole sidewalk is fenced. So after alighting the cab, I was toeing the streets, inches away from the sidewalk, tempting prey for any police officer hovering nearby. I decided to climb the steel railings. Then I ran like hell for the grocery store.

My pleadings were where I left them. I breathed a sigh of relief.

After seeing my mom, I took the train. After moving a couple meters, it stopped. In the last time five times that I rode the train, for three of those times, it experienced mechanical failure. Is that normal? My friends say that it isn’t. Or rather, it’s normal when I’m riding the train. They say I should be forever disallowed from riding.

After a few minutes of waiting, we were told that we’d to walk off the train. We did. I had to walk back to the bus station, which was a good distance away.

There weren’t any buses around headed for Fairview, when I thought it was just lucky that this FX taxi with a signboard that said SM North passed by where I was waiting. I flagged it down.

There was a lot of friendly banter going on inside the cab. The driver was a man in his late twenties. There was a girl passenger seated in front. An old woman was beside me, to my left, and a teenage girl was seated at the left of the old woman.

Throughout the trip, I was just thinking that I was lucky that I happened to chance upon this FX cab. Makati to SM North isn’t a normal route. This FX was plying the route illegally by picking up passengers. And I thought it was just plain lucky that I’d to get into a cab with a lot of friendliness going around. Later on, I realized that the atmosphere, the love was genuine. The folks inside the FX must have really known each other. They were just fabricating the passenger atmosphere for my sake, so that I can be taken advantaged of. Sometimes, it just doesn’t pay to be the nice guy.

I realized that my wallet was picked after I boarded a jeep going to UP. My bag was open, and my wallet wasn’t in it.

I first found my bag open after alighting from the FX cab. I didn’t think much of it then, thinking that I probably opened it whilst I was in the cab, when I was looking for money to pay the driver. After closing my bag, I opened the door of the FX for the old woman and her teenaged companion. She bumped me while getting off. Later, in the jeep I saw my bag was open.

I don’t keep money in my wallet. In fact, I think only Php20 was inside. However, I do keep my driver’s license, my ID’s, and my cards inside my wallet. Those were enough for a nascent headache I was having to evolve into a migraine attack.

Yesterday, I went to court to file the Motions I had my super sign. I brought along a book, where I keep my money, in case I needed to pay for the filing of the Motions. Wouldn’t you know it, I left my book in the court office. I realized it only while I was at the gas station later that evening. It’s a good thing my routine is that I check my money first before I have the gas filled. I couldn’t find my book. It contained, within its pages, two thousand Pesos.

Shit happens.

pursuing law

2005-09-24T15:03:00.000+08:00

i'm currenty working on two labor cases (among other cases that are active). being new to law practice- i'm still only an intern- i'm slowly getting a feel as to how the legal system works. in the colloquial, you can describe it as, "IT SUCKS".

i have two cases that we've won in the lower courts (administrative agencies, specifically) but which are lingering in the appellate court because of so many motions that our opponents are filing. in law school, we're taught how the law works, and how we can apply the law to the facts and vice versa so that we can win cases. in practice, you somehow wish that you were all taught how to collect instead.

it can be very frustrating. these two cases (and these are only two in a file- and only because i'm working on them TOday) were filed in 2001. last time i checked, it's already september of 2005. four years and the winning party still hasn't been able to collect. in one of my cases, the opposing party keeps on filing dilatory motions; in my other case, my client's opponents are getting ready to abscond.

sometimes, you have to ask, where is the justice in all this? probably buried somewhere beneath these motions.

keys

2005-09-21T01:09:00.000+08:00

what do you when Fate hands you the keys to your own destiny? do you take it? do you use it? do you take it and use it? it's easy enough a question to answer, but what if other people will be affected? everything then becomes complicated.

spend your whole life bitching about how the Fates are always in the driver's seat; when you get your chance, you waver.

mumble

2005-09-19T22:40:00.000+08:00

taken a fancy to friendster. i couldn't have imagined.

time was when i'd rue everyone who got into the bandwagon. there's something about the bandwagon that disturbs me. it's bad enough that most people plod through life in a perpetual zombie state that they have to adopt this attitude of having to do what most everyone else does. take a fer instance. rats off a sinking ship.... oi, that's not a good example, haha. maybe my caffeine fix hasn't wired my neurons enough yet. gotta get more coffee....

where was i?

oh, yeah, friendster. my profile tells me that i have 25 friends, or 18, depending on its (the site's) mood. 25! that's pathetic. even an old classmate in highschool who bangs his head on a wall whenever the teacher asks him a difficult question has more friends than that. maybe if i start banging my head on wall i'll have more friends(ters)? quick, somebody ask me a stupid question!

having my caffeine fix. what do you do when you suddenly realize that you've been living half your life confused? i don't know either. but it's leaving me more confused, that's what it's doing.

illusion

2005-09-17T11:27:00.000+08:00

how much of life is illusion?

you meet and talk with people and you can't be entirely sure of their intentions. what's beyond the smiles and the nods? you'll just have to take everything at face value and go on with your life. as if nothing untoward happened. and you know, what? maybe that's true.

hate it

2005-09-15T07:13:00.000+08:00

you just have to hate it when time seems to be going too fast for you. you can't catch up. you can never catch up. sometimes, all you can seem to do is ask: why do i bother? why should we?

the day stated normally enough. for a wednesday.

my car was in Coding so i'd to wake up early to beat the 7am bar. of course, i'd also to wake up early to jump ahead of the early morning rush hour. i did. got to school at 0600hrs, clearly at a loss as to what i should do. (OLA duty was still at 0800.)

couldn't waste some time in sleep. lately, my back was giving me problems.

couldn't study. for the life of me, there weren't any tables around.

wouldn't you know it. after this seemingly short span of a moment of trying to think of how i should while away the time, my watch was telling me that it was already close to eight. what do you know. its that sad old tale of time creeping up on you when you're not looking. which is to say that we should always be looking. i don't think there's any way of escaping the sure and steady plod of time. it just happens, time's creeping up on you, when you're not looking.

so what should you do? look?

like a glacier. mowing through anything it slides over. there it is. time. below us. around us. over our heads. damocle's sword. snake in the bushes, lying in wait. when we're not looking. or even when we are.

where was i? oh. OLA.

it was our last day of duty. two months from now, when we'll all be in the thick of our second semesters, we'll all have already belonged to different teams.

time moves on. sometimes, you just want to cry for all the stuff and the people you left behind.

things i learned

2005-09-09T14:51:00.000+08:00

Pushing 30. Things I learned along the way.

Not necessarily in order.

1. If you have work and you can do it today, do it.

Otherwise, you’ll wake up one day and find that you have to not sleep for 48 hours just so you can keep your deadlines. Plus, you’ll avoid getting that Memo asking you for a Show Cause- why you’re not submitting your work on time. (You save time on composing your Show Cause.)

2. Don’t just keep friends, keep on adding to them.

You’ll never know when you’ll need help and it’ll be just your luck that there’s this one friend who can bail you out. Of course you should also…

3. Help your friends when you can.

A friend in need…. Of course, adages are what they are. They can grate on the nerves with mere repetition. But think about it. If they’ve existed for so long, then there must be a grain of truth to them. Personally, I’ll want to stick faithfully to numbers two and three because I don’t want to have this bare service when I die. That would be embarrassing! I mean, who’ll stay and talk about your good points (bad deeds go like old soldiers and fade away), and eat your cookies, and drink your tea, or coffee? No one!

4. Plan your life.

Life is short. Maximize. That trip you’ve always been wanting to take? Don’t just wish for it and relegate it to some vague time in the future. Plan it. Set a date. You can’t keep yourself holed up in that cubicle for the rest of your life. That would be boring. And before you know it, if you don’t just go take that trip, you may just find yourself sadly out of time to do it. But of course…

5. You can’t always plan your life.

There are too many variables that could go wrong. You know about the butterfly effect in Chaos? One flap of a butterfly’s wings and a storm is set in motion across the Atlantic. Have a back up plan. Or, do the best that you can with what you got.

6. When things go wrong, give yourself time to grieve, then dust yourself off and Move your friggin’ ass out of your rut.

Things go wrong. That’s a rule of life. Can’t make it go away. It’s like saying, you’re going to get hungry later. Or you’ll need to sleep. It’s one those things that are inevitable. Shit happens, that’s okay. Everyone gets theirs. Learn a lesson, then move on.

7. When things go wrong, and you think you’re so sad and lonely and God’s forsaken you, don’t freak out man, someone’s got it worse.

Somebody’s always bigger than you. That goes the same with your problems. Someone’s got it worse. Believe me. Someone out there can’t find anything to eat (and he hasn’t eaten for a week). Someone out there was left by her boyfriend for someone ugly. Or someone uglier.

8. Keep a dog.

When the whole world seems out to get you, you’ll have someone to talk to. And comfort you. Someone you can hug. And she’s not expecting anything in return. (Oi, but you’ll have to feed her, of course.)

Hah! I don't always stick to each one of these. Maybe when I'm oldER. For the moment, I have to compose my Show Cause. My boss is going to kill me!

glimpse

2005-09-07T15:45:00.000+08:00

i've seen a glimpse of the future. it's beautiful. but how do you make it True?

light

2005-09-07T15:43:00.000+08:00

i'm tired yet can't sleep. i have a million things to do yet i can't do them.

i started this day trying to finish Girlfriend in a Coma (Coupland). i did. good book. but its sour ending combined with the sunless morning to make me think of how fruitless this life can be. (think of the future. how long will this last?)

going on thirty, yet i don't feel any different. i feel like i'm still Me- Ten Years Ago, only older. you get to thinking: will i be the same ten years from now? if that's so, then when i'm pushing forty, it'll only still be my nineteen-year old self in a middle aged man's body. how luckless can you get? (enough to drive you nuts.)

what is all this for?

why are we here?

what are we here for?

why is everyone here with me?

why are they all around me?

why am i here?

questions- which must have made a lot of men insane over the course of time. but aren't we already? the insane is only insane because everyone else is different. "sanity" is only the majority. numbers. who are we to say what's real? who are we to say that we aren't all deluded, and someone in an asylum out there is right, or has been right all along? of his perceptions, of what he can see. who will give him a voice, when the minority is buried in the din of "normalcy"?

no one.

dashed hopes

2005-09-04T09:46:00.000+08:00

Nothing worse than dashed hopes. Up until before six pm this evening, we all thought the Maroons could barge into the Final Four of the UAAP. They couldn’t. The bench players are crappy. Axel was injured, yet Vergara kept playing him. That’s how shallow our bench was. The better players, even when injured, are fielded in anyways. The best six or five players are left winded down the stretch.

Aargh.

It would have been a coup had it happened! UP is the Ginebra of the UAAP. Can’t win games, but the neversaydie attitude is there. Part of what makes the UAAP a more palatable fare than the professional league. You imagine it to be free from greed. But UP had more of it, if only because they’ve less resources to pick from.

It was a good run while it lasted. Everyone was waiting with bated breath. We move on. Life moves on.

ber months

2005-09-04T06:33:00.000+08:00

The Ber months have arrived! Just as suddenly as this year started, it’s as swiftly beginning to end. The life of a year is only as long as it is short. Once it exits, it can only exist in our minds, and only for so long as we allow it. Or as long as memory will deign to stay with us. (We’ve no control over that last one.) Time passes when were not looking. And quickly.

the Game

2005-09-04T01:19:00.000+08:00

a response to lightninkwik.blogspot.com, "Friday"

i posted an entry in my blog before i read yours. strange animals, weekends, 'no? they provoke a flurry of thoughts, from the menial to the bizaare.me i just want to Use my weekend productively, if that's possible.of late, i've been using it to watch uaap games, so your obssession with The Game isn't alien to me. just this past week, i was decidedly late for class because i had to finish this UP game. i loaned a teevee from a classmate, set it up on my dashboard, and was cheering the maroons on in great elation. or exasperation. depending on where the maroons are coming from.we'll probably not make it to the final four, but we sure as hell had a wonderful ride. which must be what life is all about, come to think of it. the ride. gofigure.

weekends

2005-09-04T01:02:00.000+08:00

It’s Saturday again. One more weekend to waste. You’d think that with all the weekends that all of us will have to go through in a lifetime, we’d have done Everything that Ought to have been done.

That’s just a pipedream, of course. The lot of us would spend the whole week drumming up a myriad of ways to spend the weekend. Weekend comes and we hardly commit to conceived plans. We’ll all soonest succumb to just sinking in our beds and waiting for another week to begin. Weekend goes. Then we spend the whole week wishing it were the weekend… so on and so forth. It’s only a cycle that never ends.

Next.

What does it mean when you’re suddenly wishing for someone to die? Hah! Must be a scary place to be in when your thoughts are bombarded with death, needling you.

I don’t know if everyone has not ever been in that phase when you just want to choke the bejeezus out of someone. Could be your officemate, or your meddlesome brother, or that annoying classmate of yours. Go figure. We can’t possibly do it in real life, so we just work it out in our minds. Simple, guilt-free crimes.

Or maybe you just want all of this to end, so that you can begin to live life anew. Like going to the blackboard and erasing whatever’s written on it. I don’t know. Not that folks can’t do anything about their lives until, I guess, when we’ll all be in the throes of Alzheimer’s. or AIDS.

That’s a compelling image of life, as words written on a blackboard. As if our lives have already been drawn out; but in a permanent marker, which can’t be erased.

But I’m nitpicking. Fact is, you’re just too lazy to turn your life around by moving.

Dare you to move.

Oi, but it’s a weekend. All I’ll be doing is trying to lose myself in languid, lazy sleep. Zzzz….

sleeping too much

2005-09-01T20:06:00.000+08:00

whoa! i've been sleeping too much!

i slept at 2230 last night, planning to wake up at 2247- i needed to draft a motion to declare a defendant in default plus a million other things- i didn't, instead waking up at 0400- and promptly slept again. i finally woke up at 0435. pressure building. i didn't have anything else to do but heed the call of the morning and push my butt into gear.

seated down, working on the Motion- after opening a template for a Motion for Default, i'd realized that a simple Motion wasn't enough. i needed to allege a few other facts that i didn't have command of. i'll need to go to the court tomorrow to ask for a certification from the clerk of court. (today, i have to go to the caloocan rtc to file one more- one less?- motion. those are on top of the other things i have to do for school, like Study.)

why does time seem so short? why do we need to sleep? why couldn't there have been thirtytwo-hour days, the extra eight hours given to us, for sleeping?

ogod. maybe i just need to plan my life more.