I gave to Tinig.com the full four parts of my EDSA Dos journals. (I gave Peyups only the first part.) They somehow saw it fit for web publication and the whole thing is my first Tinig entry. It's out in Tinig.com v10.1.

I remember writing those then. I was furious and bent. The keys had to absorb my strokes, the clicker knew my impatience especially when some typographical error went in the way of my thought-flow. This is the responsibility of the literate, I said to myself. We must strive for something. Back then, I knew not what to do. And I typed in my doubts along with all that glowing hate.

Then EDSA spawned her third child, the most hideous one. It was colored Orange, the banner of a fallen "hero." It was Red diluted by Yellow tears. Then, miles away, in Rizal, viewing through the boob tube, I realized my conceit, the conceit of my class, my literate company. And I knew then, with a heart trodden by the whipped throng, that if we, the damned literate, would not bring them our benefits, our various arts and letters, they would surely take it from us.

And when they do, I fear I will brook no opposition.