Hiatus
I'll stay off the keypad for a month or so. Or much, much longer. There are songs to be sung elsewhere and voices to manufacture. There are things to be done, ciphers to break.
So, no dishes for now! Only aftertastes.
I have a new article out in peyups and stay tuned to tinig because I have stuff there too. On second thought, just stay tuned to both of them because they have such good stuff anyway and I just write there to spoil the mood, hardyharhar! (",)
Meanwhile, feast on my archives, my previous webworks in other publications, or - this is the best option - read the people linked here. I have been journal-keeping online since November, but the better occupation is to sit back and read other lives unfold, those other thoughts flourish!
Friends and strangers, good luck with your crafts and lives! And wish me luck with the things I must discern and fathom, the passions I must tame and mute.
***
Marami akong nais malaman. Sabi ng isang guro, ang paborito nina Jess, Astrid, at Jol na si Fr. Nudas, mas mahalaga raw ang magkaroon ng mga tanong kaysa mga sagot. Hindi ko pa rin ganap na makuha iyan at kung tama pa rin iyan kahit sa labas ng akademya.
Siguro nga hanggang sa natututo tayo sa buhay-buhay, mahalaga iyan.
Kaya't heto ang pahabol na tanong, buhat mula sa dating tanong tungkol sa mga crushing na morena. Anong mas namimiss mo? Sesame Street o Batibot? Si Maria o si Ate Sienna? Si Big Bird o si Pong Pagong? O baka naman miss mo na pareho? O wala ka nang namimiss kasi si Barney talaga ang trip mo at sinusubaybayan mo ang Blue's Clues!
O sige, hihintayin ko mga sagot n'yo ha? Nu Ni Nu Ni Nu...
Abr 16, 2002
Abr 12, 2002
Et Cetera
Tinig people! Good luck with the EB on the 14th! Happy anniversary again!
Shout out to Jio of Taym Matsing! Out of Geocities too, I see. It's his fifth version featuring the Pinoy graphics he renders so well. A beer-guzzling bejewelled dog replaces the cockfighter in this monkey's page. I haven't updated my links yet so this article will have to do for now.
Other queued links include pinoy webloggers and... well, linking pinoy webloggers is like linking them all, I guess. If you are not yet linked just tell me because - you're probably right - I'd look better with your link gracing my sidebar. Question is, would you look better associated with smelly bopis texts? Hardyharhar!
Out of the sidebar and into the blog, a cosmo-vogue question: who is the favorite morena? Tweety de Leon, Angel Aquino, Joey Mead, or somebody else?
(Question inspired by an office scene comparing favorite mestizas. But I've heard that game played much too often...)
Tinig people! Good luck with the EB on the 14th! Happy anniversary again!
Shout out to Jio of Taym Matsing! Out of Geocities too, I see. It's his fifth version featuring the Pinoy graphics he renders so well. A beer-guzzling bejewelled dog replaces the cockfighter in this monkey's page. I haven't updated my links yet so this article will have to do for now.
Other queued links include pinoy webloggers and... well, linking pinoy webloggers is like linking them all, I guess. If you are not yet linked just tell me because - you're probably right - I'd look better with your link gracing my sidebar. Question is, would you look better associated with smelly bopis texts? Hardyharhar!
Out of the sidebar and into the blog, a cosmo-vogue question: who is the favorite morena? Tweety de Leon, Angel Aquino, Joey Mead, or somebody else?
(Question inspired by an office scene comparing favorite mestizas. But I've heard that game played much too often...)
Abr 10, 2002
DEBT MARCH
The Debts We Service, the Deaths We Ignore
Our sense of indebtedness is skewed.
Our veterans have lived only to see this day. And they haven't seen the benefits promised to them by the Philippine letter of law. They march on.
After 1986, we have pledged continued service to a foreign debt that a tyrant made for us. The widow Aquino had enough reason and precedent to reject payment of the foreign debts. We were down then, the aftermath of a "revolution." But the whole world was looking up at us, great capitalists saw our bloodless revolution as the great counter-argument to Marxist solution. But it was not logical at all since it proved less of a revolution than it purported itself to be.
The world's banks were already positive that we would reject the debts. The people of the Philippines did not make it, a deposed dictator did. Peru claimed the same thing after they got rid of their dictator (in a bloodier way). The banks relented. The world's governments approved that the banks released the nation of debts made on its behalf but not by it.
We had more media coverage, more applause, more of the world's faith. And the governments would certainly give us more of the slack it gave to the Peruvian balls. We were a nation held captive. We got ourselves out. And we have to pay some ransom? No! The banks could have given us freedom if we claimed that what belonged to us by sovereign right was not debt but a clean blank slate.
Time's Woman of the Year then made a stand that would sicken me for the rest of my days. She had much pomp and hubris that we would all suffer from. So pridefully, as if she owned our future as much as the deposed one thought he did, she said those debts were ours. And not a centavo of it would come out of Hacienda Luisita.
Enter veterans. Veteran's Day, Bataan Day, Araw ng Kagitingan. The day of people who staked their lives for sovereignty. People who loved the future more than themselves, a future that they did not care to own, only to honor. Enter veterans. Heroes day. The day of the bright enduring ones who would die for the country.
Not merely say they would.
Most of their rank did. Our forefathers, our grandfathers and great grandfathers and their families. Bloody deaths without the peace of slumber or good times or full unwearied smiles.
Some of them lived. What did they survive to become. Bemedalled soldiers made to prostrate themselves as beggars, stripped of the dignity that they deserved. We would have been a race of noisy, good-for-nothing cowards if not for their sacrifice! I would not look back to an honorable past of look forward to hope were it not for them. There would have been no Filipino or Philippines as we know it if they did not hold the lines as far as they did.
But they are beggars. The ingrates of the legislature would only reap the rewards of their sacrifice without thanking them for it. Damn common thieves of the basest, vilest kind. They ignored the budget for our veterans. They saw only for their own pork barrels. It was the fault of the lower house. The house that would see and make only heroes that would give them media mileage. And these fathers who gave them their arenas of power? The kongresistas conveniently cross them out of the budget. A billion-peso treachery. And that already is, even if it were only about the money. But the boiling blood knows that it is much more.
The Senator, Mr. Vilma Santos, speaks now. There's just no budget. Well, the Congress was constitutionally directed to make that room. They were sworn to it! Though the heavens may fall! Lawmakers as they are, their consciousness of the Letter should drive them to resign if they could not make it happen. And they would have had much more honor.
But the only room made was for the Six-Billion pork barrel. The righteous Senate's oily hands are not bloodless. Pockets filled with lard, minds filled with the lust of power, what is the excuse for their oversight? The Senate could have rejected the whole budget or direct modifications where they saw fit! No excuse. It was not oversight at all. It was willed.
Not one of our elected elite stood up for the veterans. Sure, they will all die anyway. And every year we delay, we deny. All the better! Money was saved. Or used to finance other things more precious than honoring the blood of heroes. And we will all forget the injustice done our fathers.
Every year, we deny. But let the future generation be so warned. The fate of ingrates has been ingrained in us since our cultural infancy:
"ang hindi lumingon sa pinanggalingan,
di makararating sa paroroonan."
And such a proud nation is not exempt.
The Debts We Service, the Deaths We Ignore
Our sense of indebtedness is skewed.
Our veterans have lived only to see this day. And they haven't seen the benefits promised to them by the Philippine letter of law. They march on.
After 1986, we have pledged continued service to a foreign debt that a tyrant made for us. The widow Aquino had enough reason and precedent to reject payment of the foreign debts. We were down then, the aftermath of a "revolution." But the whole world was looking up at us, great capitalists saw our bloodless revolution as the great counter-argument to Marxist solution. But it was not logical at all since it proved less of a revolution than it purported itself to be.
The world's banks were already positive that we would reject the debts. The people of the Philippines did not make it, a deposed dictator did. Peru claimed the same thing after they got rid of their dictator (in a bloodier way). The banks relented. The world's governments approved that the banks released the nation of debts made on its behalf but not by it.
We had more media coverage, more applause, more of the world's faith. And the governments would certainly give us more of the slack it gave to the Peruvian balls. We were a nation held captive. We got ourselves out. And we have to pay some ransom? No! The banks could have given us freedom if we claimed that what belonged to us by sovereign right was not debt but a clean blank slate.
Time's Woman of the Year then made a stand that would sicken me for the rest of my days. She had much pomp and hubris that we would all suffer from. So pridefully, as if she owned our future as much as the deposed one thought he did, she said those debts were ours. And not a centavo of it would come out of Hacienda Luisita.
Enter veterans. Veteran's Day, Bataan Day, Araw ng Kagitingan. The day of people who staked their lives for sovereignty. People who loved the future more than themselves, a future that they did not care to own, only to honor. Enter veterans. Heroes day. The day of the bright enduring ones who would die for the country.
Not merely say they would.
Most of their rank did. Our forefathers, our grandfathers and great grandfathers and their families. Bloody deaths without the peace of slumber or good times or full unwearied smiles.
Some of them lived. What did they survive to become. Bemedalled soldiers made to prostrate themselves as beggars, stripped of the dignity that they deserved. We would have been a race of noisy, good-for-nothing cowards if not for their sacrifice! I would not look back to an honorable past of look forward to hope were it not for them. There would have been no Filipino or Philippines as we know it if they did not hold the lines as far as they did.
But they are beggars. The ingrates of the legislature would only reap the rewards of their sacrifice without thanking them for it. Damn common thieves of the basest, vilest kind. They ignored the budget for our veterans. They saw only for their own pork barrels. It was the fault of the lower house. The house that would see and make only heroes that would give them media mileage. And these fathers who gave them their arenas of power? The kongresistas conveniently cross them out of the budget. A billion-peso treachery. And that already is, even if it were only about the money. But the boiling blood knows that it is much more.
The Senator, Mr. Vilma Santos, speaks now. There's just no budget. Well, the Congress was constitutionally directed to make that room. They were sworn to it! Though the heavens may fall! Lawmakers as they are, their consciousness of the Letter should drive them to resign if they could not make it happen. And they would have had much more honor.
But the only room made was for the Six-Billion pork barrel. The righteous Senate's oily hands are not bloodless. Pockets filled with lard, minds filled with the lust of power, what is the excuse for their oversight? The Senate could have rejected the whole budget or direct modifications where they saw fit! No excuse. It was not oversight at all. It was willed.
Not one of our elected elite stood up for the veterans. Sure, they will all die anyway. And every year we delay, we deny. All the better! Money was saved. Or used to finance other things more precious than honoring the blood of heroes. And we will all forget the injustice done our fathers.
Every year, we deny. But let the future generation be so warned. The fate of ingrates has been ingrained in us since our cultural infancy:
"ang hindi lumingon sa pinanggalingan,
di makararating sa paroroonan."
And such a proud nation is not exempt.
May nakita akong isang site. OK ang teksto niya. Kakaiba, medyo nakakapanibago pa nga sa mundo ng ranting&ravingweb. Ewan ko ba pero trip ko sya. Ngayon malalaman na ng madlang pipol kung ano ang ibig kong sabihin kapag tinatanong ko kay Monica: Kumusta ang mga bata?
Abr 8, 2002
Bagsak ang Blogger madalas. Nakatsamba lang ako ngayon kaya, bago ko mabati at mawala uli, heto: test blog, test blog, 1... 2... 3...
Ewan ko kumbakit ako napaisip dito. Si Ate kasi tinanong kagabi habang nagpepekwa kaming magkakapatid, kung sinu-sino raw ang bespren namin. Heto ang tanong. Isa lang ba dapat ang Best Friend?
Ewan ko kumbakit ako napaisip dito. Si Ate kasi tinanong kagabi habang nagpepekwa kaming magkakapatid, kung sinu-sino raw ang bespren namin. Heto ang tanong. Isa lang ba dapat ang Best Friend?
Abr 6, 2002
LANGOY-UTAK
Mangungumusta lang ako ha?
Napapatanong lang ako, kumusta sa iyo ang tubig at tag-init? Ang mga ekskursyon at outing? Kumusta ang hot springs sa tanghaling tapat? Ang shower na mainit na tubig pa rin pala? Ang malalamig na pool na minsan may bubbles pa? Ang maaalat na beach? Ang asin na namuo at pumalit sa balat?
Kumusta ang taas ng araw? Kumusta ang mga shades, cap, shawl, sleeveless, plunging, swimsuit, at trunks? Ang sunblock, lotion, o sopdrinks na pang-marinate sa balat? Ang mga gamit, kumpleto ba?
Kumusta ang pag-iihaw-ihaw ng kung anu-ano sa tabi ng pool o beach? Kumusta ang alat sa dila at labi? Ang manggang hilaw na pangontra rito? Ang bagoong na pangontra sa pangontra? Ang serbesa na pangontra sa lahat?
Kumusta ang mga kasama? Ang mag-anak, kaibigan, kasama sa trabaho, o estrangherong nakilala sa bus at natsambahan rin sa resort? Kumusta ang kiskisang-siko, ututang-dila, bunuang-braso, at tagisang-isip? Ang halakhakan sa umaga at seryosong pagsesentimyento sa paglubog ng araw?
Kumusta ang pagtulog? Ang pakiramdam sa katawan na tila nakalimutan ang pagkapirmi at nararamdaman pa ang alon? Ang mga panaginip na singklaro ng tubig ngunit sing-ilap ng hangin?
Kumusta ang pasalubong? Ang mga iuuwing damit? Ang mga pinulot na shell sa tabi ng dagat? Ang mga hinablot na ashtray, bolpen, at lalagyan ng sabon sa tabi-tabi ng pool? Ang mga tisyu na may tatak ng dinaanang restawran, tinuluyang hotel, o lipstik ng crush? Ang mga pasalubong na kwento?
Kumusta sa iyo ang tag-init? Kumusta ang araw na nagpapatakbo sa hangin? Ang hangin na ngahahabi ng daluyong? Ang alon na nagbibigay-mukha sa tubig? Ang tubig na nagbibigay-ritmo sa katawan, hanggang sa paghimlay sa gabi?
Higit sa lahat, kumusta ang paglangoy? Kumusta ang karera sa tubig? Ang mga water-game, water-polo, beach volleyball, at hanapan ng barya? Ang pagtumbling at pagsisid, at paghahagis ng tubig at buhangin?
Kumusta ang paglangoy, ang pakikipaghuntahan sa dagat? Ang tanging wika na kinikilala nito? Kumusta ang paglangoy? O, tulad ko ngayon, kumusta ang paglangoy sa utak?
Mangungumusta lang ako ha?
Napapatanong lang ako, kumusta sa iyo ang tubig at tag-init? Ang mga ekskursyon at outing? Kumusta ang hot springs sa tanghaling tapat? Ang shower na mainit na tubig pa rin pala? Ang malalamig na pool na minsan may bubbles pa? Ang maaalat na beach? Ang asin na namuo at pumalit sa balat?
Kumusta ang taas ng araw? Kumusta ang mga shades, cap, shawl, sleeveless, plunging, swimsuit, at trunks? Ang sunblock, lotion, o sopdrinks na pang-marinate sa balat? Ang mga gamit, kumpleto ba?
Kumusta ang pag-iihaw-ihaw ng kung anu-ano sa tabi ng pool o beach? Kumusta ang alat sa dila at labi? Ang manggang hilaw na pangontra rito? Ang bagoong na pangontra sa pangontra? Ang serbesa na pangontra sa lahat?
Kumusta ang mga kasama? Ang mag-anak, kaibigan, kasama sa trabaho, o estrangherong nakilala sa bus at natsambahan rin sa resort? Kumusta ang kiskisang-siko, ututang-dila, bunuang-braso, at tagisang-isip? Ang halakhakan sa umaga at seryosong pagsesentimyento sa paglubog ng araw?
Kumusta ang pagtulog? Ang pakiramdam sa katawan na tila nakalimutan ang pagkapirmi at nararamdaman pa ang alon? Ang mga panaginip na singklaro ng tubig ngunit sing-ilap ng hangin?
Kumusta ang pasalubong? Ang mga iuuwing damit? Ang mga pinulot na shell sa tabi ng dagat? Ang mga hinablot na ashtray, bolpen, at lalagyan ng sabon sa tabi-tabi ng pool? Ang mga tisyu na may tatak ng dinaanang restawran, tinuluyang hotel, o lipstik ng crush? Ang mga pasalubong na kwento?
Kumusta sa iyo ang tag-init? Kumusta ang araw na nagpapatakbo sa hangin? Ang hangin na ngahahabi ng daluyong? Ang alon na nagbibigay-mukha sa tubig? Ang tubig na nagbibigay-ritmo sa katawan, hanggang sa paghimlay sa gabi?
Higit sa lahat, kumusta ang paglangoy? Kumusta ang karera sa tubig? Ang mga water-game, water-polo, beach volleyball, at hanapan ng barya? Ang pagtumbling at pagsisid, at paghahagis ng tubig at buhangin?
Kumusta ang paglangoy, ang pakikipaghuntahan sa dagat? Ang tanging wika na kinikilala nito? Kumusta ang paglangoy? O, tulad ko ngayon, kumusta ang paglangoy sa utak?
Mag-subscribe sa:
Mga Post (Atom)