viernes, septiembre 27, 2002
martes, agosto 13, 2002
domingo, junio 09, 2002
viernes, junio 07, 2002
jueves, junio 06, 2002
lunes, junio 03, 2002
miércoles, abril 10, 2002
I am so exhausted. I passed another article to Tinig. Here it is, for archive's sake I guess...
komentaryo / bulalas
DEBT MARCH
The Debts We Service, the Deaths We Ignore
Our national sense of indebtedness is skewed.
Our veterans haven't seen the benefits promised to them by the Philippine letter of law. They have only lived to see this day. Heroes Day, an empty commemoration some just want to enjoy in the malls and beaches and get over with. The veterans march on.
After 1986, we have pledged continued service to a foreign debt that Ferdinand Marcos 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, some reluctantly, agreed. 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. Thus, even our children was senetenced to be suffocated by debt. 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 their 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 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.
We have chosen to honor a fake war hero's enormous debt, refusing in the process to dignify the memory of our heroes. And to cherish those still among us. Brilliant lives with their meanings corrupted by that tyrant. And by the forgers that have succeeded his reign.
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.
profile:
"The author looks back to his grandfather who perished in the mountains. And to her, the last receiver of the pension. SLN. Like any other Filipino, there is heroes' blood in him. Yet, of dishonor, he is also guilty."
komentaryo / bulalas
DEBT MARCH
The Debts We Service, the Deaths We Ignore
Our national sense of indebtedness is skewed.
Our veterans haven't seen the benefits promised to them by the Philippine letter of law. They have only lived to see this day. Heroes Day, an empty commemoration some just want to enjoy in the malls and beaches and get over with. The veterans march on.
After 1986, we have pledged continued service to a foreign debt that Ferdinand Marcos 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, some reluctantly, agreed. 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. Thus, even our children was senetenced to be suffocated by debt. 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 their 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 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.
We have chosen to honor a fake war hero's enormous debt, refusing in the process to dignify the memory of our heroes. And to cherish those still among us. Brilliant lives with their meanings corrupted by that tyrant. And by the forgers that have succeeded his reign.
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.
profile:
"The author looks back to his grandfather who perished in the mountains. And to her, the last receiver of the pension. SLN. Like any other Filipino, there is heroes' blood in him. Yet, of dishonor, he is also guilty."
viernes, abril 05, 2002
This is a copy of the article I passed to Eder of Tinig.
Paalam mga Maestro
Sumakabilang-buhay si Maestro Lucas San Pedro nuong Linggo, Marso 30, 2002 sa gulang na 89. Kinikilala ang premyadong musikero bilang pangunahing komposer at guro. Sumunod sa kanyang himlayan si Maestro Levi Celerio, edad 91, nuong Martes, Abril 2. Tanyag naman ang maestro bilang tunay makata at maninitik ng musikang Pilipino.
Kapwa sila Pambansang Alagad ng Sining, karangalan na karapat-dapat namang ipinutong sa kanilang mga ulo. Hanggang sa mga huling obra nila, mababasa, maririnig, at mararamdaman ang kanilang kadakilaan hindi lamang bilang mga maestro ng sining, kundi bilang mga alagad ng bayan.
Bilang paggunita at paggalang, narito ang isang kolaborasyon ng dalawang pantas, ang kantang Sa Ugoy ng Duyan.
SA UGOY NG DUYAN
Musika ni Lucio San Pedro
Titik ni Levi Celerio
Sana'y di magmaliw ang dati kong araw
Nang munti pang bata sa piling ni Nanay
Nais kong maulit ang awit ni Inang mahal
Awit ng pag-ibig habang ako'y nasa duyan
Sana'y di magmaliw ang dati kong araw
Nang munti pang bata sa piling ni Nanay
Nais kong maulit ang awit ni Inang mahal
Awit ng pag-ibig habang ako'y nasa duyan
Sa aking pagtulog na labis ang himbing
Ang bantay ko'y tala
Ang tanod ko'y bituin
Sa piling ni Nanay
Langit ang buhay
Puso kong may dusa
Sabik sa ugoy ng duyan mo Inay
Sana narito ka Inay
Sana'y di magmaliw ang dati kong araw
Nang munti pang bata sa piling ni Nanay
Nais kong maulit ang awit ni Inang mahal
Awit ng pag-ibig habang ako'y nasa duyan
Sa loob ng kapayakan ng awit, malalim ang sentimyento at diwa ng awit na ito. Naririnig ko ito bilang oyayi (lullabye) ng ina na nagpapatuloy sa puso at pinakaubod ng anak. Tulad ng anumang handog mula sa pag-ibig ng Nanay, nananatili ito hanggang sa huling sandali, lampas pa ng paglipas ng pinanggalingan.
Narito ang kabataan, ang mga naiwan, mga alagad ng sining sa kani-kanilang paraan, mga tainga kapwa para sa musika ng maestro at sa ingay ng mundo. Nahimlay at nagising kami sa inyong mga tinugtog. Ngayon, panahon na namin para ipagpatuloy ang himig. Nawa'y magbunga ang salinlahi ng mga dakilang ugat. Sa kabila ng lahat.
Sumalangit Nawa, mga Maestro. Nang maibalik na sa Langit ang pinahiram na Awit sa Bayan.
Paalam mga Maestro
Sumakabilang-buhay si Maestro Lucas San Pedro nuong Linggo, Marso 30, 2002 sa gulang na 89. Kinikilala ang premyadong musikero bilang pangunahing komposer at guro. Sumunod sa kanyang himlayan si Maestro Levi Celerio, edad 91, nuong Martes, Abril 2. Tanyag naman ang maestro bilang tunay makata at maninitik ng musikang Pilipino.
Kapwa sila Pambansang Alagad ng Sining, karangalan na karapat-dapat namang ipinutong sa kanilang mga ulo. Hanggang sa mga huling obra nila, mababasa, maririnig, at mararamdaman ang kanilang kadakilaan hindi lamang bilang mga maestro ng sining, kundi bilang mga alagad ng bayan.
Bilang paggunita at paggalang, narito ang isang kolaborasyon ng dalawang pantas, ang kantang Sa Ugoy ng Duyan.
SA UGOY NG DUYAN
Musika ni Lucio San Pedro
Titik ni Levi Celerio
Sana'y di magmaliw ang dati kong araw
Nang munti pang bata sa piling ni Nanay
Nais kong maulit ang awit ni Inang mahal
Awit ng pag-ibig habang ako'y nasa duyan
Sana'y di magmaliw ang dati kong araw
Nang munti pang bata sa piling ni Nanay
Nais kong maulit ang awit ni Inang mahal
Awit ng pag-ibig habang ako'y nasa duyan
Sa aking pagtulog na labis ang himbing
Ang bantay ko'y tala
Ang tanod ko'y bituin
Sa piling ni Nanay
Langit ang buhay
Puso kong may dusa
Sabik sa ugoy ng duyan mo Inay
Sana narito ka Inay
Sana'y di magmaliw ang dati kong araw
Nang munti pang bata sa piling ni Nanay
Nais kong maulit ang awit ni Inang mahal
Awit ng pag-ibig habang ako'y nasa duyan
Sa loob ng kapayakan ng awit, malalim ang sentimyento at diwa ng awit na ito. Naririnig ko ito bilang oyayi (lullabye) ng ina na nagpapatuloy sa puso at pinakaubod ng anak. Tulad ng anumang handog mula sa pag-ibig ng Nanay, nananatili ito hanggang sa huling sandali, lampas pa ng paglipas ng pinanggalingan.
Narito ang kabataan, ang mga naiwan, mga alagad ng sining sa kani-kanilang paraan, mga tainga kapwa para sa musika ng maestro at sa ingay ng mundo. Nahimlay at nagising kami sa inyong mga tinugtog. Ngayon, panahon na namin para ipagpatuloy ang himig. Nawa'y magbunga ang salinlahi ng mga dakilang ugat. Sa kabila ng lahat.
Sumalangit Nawa, mga Maestro. Nang maibalik na sa Langit ang pinahiram na Awit sa Bayan.
viernes, febrero 15, 2002
lunes, febrero 04, 2002
sábado, enero 26, 2002
I'm currently out of fighting form. Really hoped to blog about a lot of things. Among them is, of course, the cuisine-as-metaphor-for-diaspora-film, American Adobo. I have watched the film. I thought it was a noble project but the scope was too ambitious. Jessie, our beloved bluesy Kantogirl, has a good take on the matter. I'll leave you to her while I take my leave and recollect on some things.
My meeting with two UPS batchmates and one upperbatchman left me a bit more contemplative than usual. Since the flurry of weekend events, I haven't stopped to process it all. I probably won't publish my findings here though, I'm rediscovering the art of journal-writing in good old vellum, ancient papyrus, dear paper! My last entry was dated November 2, 2001. It was a reading of Benjamin Singkol by F. Sionil Jose.
Belle contemplates on the meaning of blogging. And she got to the bottomline. It's nothing else if not personal. We were just hoping she would not consider unblogging. Read and decide, if you must, dear reader.
I shall take my leave. I hope this won't take long!
miércoles, enero 23, 2002
You are unlinked prodigal. I have no clue this will feel like this. I have the homesite. What would your role be? Alas, there will be no shadow site this time huh?
lunes, enero 21, 2002
domingo, enero 20, 2002
I have corrected some posts' typographical errors plainly because I was pissed. No matter if the dates will go screwed. Even posterity is finite anyway. And I don't need the phallic projection of the mind extending way beyond my lifetime.
Why pierce the future? In any case, I will cause ripples whether I'm qualified or not. Worthy or Unworthy. Read or Unread.
That was so cheesy. Just like a movie where the title is so markedly stated, like a damn punchline.
I'm beginning to love blogging here. Metablogging is much more convenient in this site. I'm thinking of giving this blog a new template. In honor of my ailing friend, I guess.
I also learned that my friend Jess reads this (or read this). I'm cool with that. She's my template anyway. But I'll refabricate the illusion that only I can see this damned repository.
Why pierce the future? In any case, I will cause ripples whether I'm qualified or not. Worthy or Unworthy. Read or Unread.
That was so cheesy. Just like a movie where the title is so markedly stated, like a damn punchline.
I'm beginning to love blogging here. Metablogging is much more convenient in this site. I'm thinking of giving this blog a new template. In honor of my ailing friend, I guess.
I also learned that my friend Jess reads this (or read this). I'm cool with that. She's my template anyway. But I'll refabricate the illusion that only I can see this damned repository.
Really so damn guilty about pressuring my friend to join our Friday meeting.
Elsewhere, my job is beginning to bring greater promise despite my worsening attitude toward the staff. Despite and because of everything, my need to leave is greater than before.
Else-elsewhere, Dennis the UPSandigan alumni is a troubled man. But the batch is not at all disheartening. As usual, it's me.
Elsewhere, my job is beginning to bring greater promise despite my worsening attitude toward the staff. Despite and because of everything, my need to leave is greater than before.
Else-elsewhere, Dennis the UPSandigan alumni is a troubled man. But the batch is not at all disheartening. As usual, it's me.
sábado, enero 12, 2002
martes, enero 08, 2002
domingo, enero 06, 2002
Keep it simple! I've seen too many of beautiful minds in and out of the net encumbered with hypaluthen words and unseemly but ambitious sentence constructions. Like godesses' faces, trust me, they never needed make-up. Leave those lip glosses, lip brushes, and lip sticks to the likes of me, a failing mortal with a horrid psyche.
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