And so life goes on…

So I have been very busy trying to be busy, haha. Been to Clark, enjoying the scorching heat. The place is fun, and the reception there from friends was pretty awesome, plus they have nifty places to go to. And they have Korea Town! It’s like being in Seoul all over again…except it’s hot and you see random bar girls walking down the streets.

Now busy jobhunting like there is no tomorrow, and writing articles in the meantime.

I am reading Francois de La Rouchefoucauld, whom I came across while in National Bookstore in SM-Clark browsing. Had to choose between him, Goethe’s erotic poems (nice!) and pocket book version of Kama Sutra. Since I was on a mission of cutting down on my book intake (my sister correctly postulates that I am an addict and thus cannot get rid of this. There should be a book addicts anonymous!), I chose him over the others, only to find out that it was on sale and less than the price on the actual book. Anyway, I’ve been enjoying his maxims, although he seems like he hates humanity, hates self-love and hates flirtatious women.

I have recently bought Dale Carnegie as well (told you, I swore I wasn’t going to buy anything anymore, but I like this guy). A friend liked books by Dale Carnegie, I bought one and I liked it so I bought another one at a book sale in, yes, SM, yet again.

My reading of Arundhati Roy’s “The God of Small Things” is hopeless. I keep getting distracted with the metaphors!

Been watching movies lately as well. David Mamet’s “RedBelt” for one, which is a nice contrast between martial arts, morals and how life isn’t like a martial arts (in martial arts, there is always a way, in real life sometimes there isn’t),”Fighting”, which I initially didn’t want to watch, but was surprised by how entertaining it is. Think early Jean Claude Van Damme, except the guy can act, or at least the material is good. “Hairspray” is something I used to watch a lot of in London, as well as “D.E.B.S.” – both of which I secretly like and wouldn’t be caught dead admitting so in public.

Funemployed geek lives!

A Gen-Xer’s take on a Gen-Yer’s take on 90s and current TV: the lowdown

I was a teenager in the 90s when what we consider now to be the classics of 90s TV debuted and became the hottest shows on the planet.

This were: ”Beverly Hills 90210″, ”My So-called Life”, “Dawson’s Creek”, “Freaks and Geeks” and my all-time favorite, “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” – before TV executives’ brains devolved and they started thinking reality shows were great programming. This was before the proliferation of only two major kinds of television shows hit the tubes: crime and medical dramas. This was before, when there was much intelligence in Hollywood and more risks and creativity.

I am not a big fan of Beverly Hills, My So-called Life, Dawson’s Creek and Freaks and Geeks, but these were the TV shows that pushed the envelope in terms of cutting-edge, daring programming for teenagers. But most of all, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, was a brilliant, feminist, funny and witty TV show where the girls weren’t shallow idiots always hellbent on backstabbing, getting laid or getting the latest fad right.

So, imagine my surprise when some idiotic 21 year old puts it in her head that she has the right or the license to criticize groundbreaking 90s TV shows.

The blog was by Andrea Cheng, entitled “ Gen X vs. Gen Y: A 21-Year-Old’s Take On ’90s TV“  which, among other things, dissed the hair, teen problems, freaks and geeks and 80most especially dissed witches and vampires.

I am so pissed off I feel like…like….ranting and raving like an impotent jerk because…because….what do I expect from an idiotic blog post from a 21 year old whose mind has been saturated by reality shows, crime and medical dramas and other mindless entertainment? Idiotic Gen-Y shows beget idiotic blog posts.

I rest my case.

Clark!

So last night was spent hanging out with friends. We went to an open air bar in Balibago, checked into an Inn (Marble Inn – I recommend it), and over beer, chatted about what’s being going in our lives since I last saw everyone. There was an acoustic band playing mostly 80s  and 90s songs, the lead singer seemed better at singing Tagalog songs than he was at singing English songs (don’t they always?).

Balibago is where people go to in Clark when they want to hang out with friends. It isn’t bad. Last night, the heat wasn’t so bad either, so I was able to enjoy the night without a hitch.

Now meeting a different set of friends.

More later!

Linggo ng Wika at Araw ni Ninoy

Sa totoo lang nakakahiya akong Pilipino dahil ang aking Pilipino (o Tagalog) ay Pilipinong pang-text, hindi pangsulat. Pero dahil Linggo ng Wika at Araw ni Ninoy, sige, pipilitin kong magsalita.

Andito ako ngayon sa Clark, binisita ang mga kaibigan. Kasalukuyan pa ring naghahanap ng trabaho, pero ngayon medyo nagkakaroon na ako ng ideya kung paano ako magtratrabaho.

Masaya palang magsulat sa Pilipino? Ika nga ni Jessica Zafra, parang Algebra ito.

Bukas ulit.

The audacity of corruption

My friend texts me this in the middle of the night:

“Just use your judgment if it’s reliable info – from a New York Philippine consulate friend; ‘I’m OK sir. Same here, I’m also ashamed about the extravagant stay. Her Waldof suite, $ 3, 500/day, $950/day for the congressmen and others. 60 rooms were occupied in Waldorf. Two days they feasted in Le Cirque charged to our office. At least 50 dined for two nights. They all came in stretch limos, rented for three days. So, I’m sure delay uli sweldo namin, sir.’ “

Who, pray tell, was my friend referring to? Was it some wealthy movie star who’d sold a billion dollars and thus is entitled to spend millions on a Waldorf Suite, meals and stretch limos? Was it some wealthy hip-hop-rapper-producer mogul who’d sold a billion copies of hip-hop CDs and thus is entitled to splurge on bling-bling and what-not? Was it some bizarrely wealthy political figure from a first-world country whose government can afford to spend millions of dollars on him and his entourage?

No. Of course not. For as author Jessica Zafra said, in the Philippines, the ordinary is bizarre and the bizarre is ordinary. And thus, of course, I refer to President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo and her entourage and how much they spent when when they stayed in New York.

This is of course just one in a long list of expenses that GMA has been accused of spending, money which, we may logically assume came from our taxes, or from loans from financial institutions already fed up with lending money to a country that keeps getting bigger deficits despite its best efforts.

This of course, comes in wake of accusations of rigging the recent National Artist Awards, openly demanding that the Supreme Court include more names in a short-list of candidates for justices, rigging the last presidential elections (in which she won), the lingering stench of the National Broadband Network Scandal, her annoyingly persistent calls to change the existing Constitution, persistent accusations of human rights violations that reek of her doing.

Looking at these controversies that have plagued her administration since she took office, I cannot help buts wax nostalgic about those leaders in the past who inspired admiration. Has the era of real leadership gone? Has the era of integrity, magnanimity, dedication, humility, openness gone? Did all these qualities die when GMA came to power?

I believe these died when we allowed GMA into the political arena in the first place. This happened even before EDSA II, but when we elected her vice president. In fact, this began when we elected her as senator. Sure, we can blame God, providence, our culture of unabashed and shameless (emphasis on unabashed) corruption thinly-disguised as something else entirely, our colonial history (because, you know, when all else fails, it is always good to blame the bloody Spaniards, then the Americans, then the Japanese for all these), or perhaps the late dictator, President Ferdinand Marcos and this same culture of corruption which he spawned and even encouraged. We can blame the IMF-WB, the 1997 financial crisis, the GATT-WTO, the endless international and national socio-economic and political events that have continuously conspired to keep us from attaining that elusive first-world status that other third-world countries have achieved or are slowly achieving, long after we have recovered from the latest corruption scandal brilliantly concocted and poorly concealed by Malacanang and its politicos.

Yes, we can blame all these things…but really, we have only ourselves to blame.

Yes, fellow Pinoys, let me say that again: we have only ourselves to blame for the havoc she is currently wreaking in Malacanang. More than that, we have only ourselves to blame for the kind of system that has voted her into power. We have only ourselves to blame for a voting system that permits rigged elections to happen, for an election system that allows politicians to form unholy alliances with powerful individuals and organizations, to use government funds for infomercials, billboards and other shameless advertising tools,  that are really just avenues for premature political campaigning, for a system that perpetuates only dynasties and only the wealthy and powerful into office, for a culture that justifies kickbacks as honorable, for a culture that thinks being frugal and “kuripot” is uncool and unacceptable, and being able to wine and dine and cruise in limos in New York is the height of status…Ultimately, we have only ourselves to blame for the very reasons why GMA and her cohorts are doing what they are doing now.

I know I will get a lot of shit for this, and of course I will. Because it is easier to blame others, than accept responsibility for this, isn’t it?

We blame others because that is the only way we can live with ourselves. Because, really if we start taking a look at ourselves and really examining what is going on – what GMA is doing, is a reflection of what we have become: we have become such a nation of compliant, apathetic people that even though this present administration is staying at the Waldorf Astoria so brazenly, at our expense, all we can do is rant and rave and not do something about it.

What we should do, is do what the late Raul Manglapus did in a speech he gave before (“Land of Bondage, Land of the Free”), indicting the Spanish encomendoro for inventing taxes,  the usurer for debts he cannot pay, but ultimately for the irresponsible leaders who have undermined his confidence in government.

Except, here’s what I suggest:

I indict this government for spending my taxes on Waldorf suites, Le Cirque meals and stretch limos. I indict this government for rigging the last presidential elections. I indict this government for the endless corruption scandals it has brazenly been caught in. I indict this government for the charter change calls it keeps insisting on. I indict this government for what is has done to the Filipino people: make them lose confidence in the government, make them lose confidence in democracy and its ideals, in the things which EDSA stood for. Most of all, I indict this government for the hope and possibility of change and progress it has taken away from Filipinos.

Shame on you. You have no right to be in office.

Your time will come…

Judgment day will come in the 2010 elections. But more than that, judgment day comes when you face God at the end of days and you are called to account for the many sins you have committed on this country of ours.

And when that day comes, may God have mercy on your soul!

Monday, Monday…

What can I say except I am loving catching up on my cable watching? It’s not really good, but since I am currently without any internet connection and the laptop is indisposed, I have to resort to other means of available entertainment. Hence, I have watched:

1. Planet Terror - An all-star cast tries to battle zombies after a bio-chemical weapons project goes awry. Gory, hilarious, weird, but always fun to watch, it’s kind of like “From Dusk til Dawn” – except instead of vampires, you get zombies.  Enjoyed watching it because 1. it had Rose McGowan as the stripper whose leg gets amputated and she first gets a table leg, then a gun strapped to her amputated leg, 2. Marley Shelton as the nurse cheating on husband-doctor Josh Brolin with hottie girlfriend Fergie from the Black-eyed Peas (how cool is that?), points for the look on Shelton’s face when she gets to ride on a bike with a barely-clothed McGowan (yay!), and for her funny, anesthetized hands that Josh Brolin pricks in his anger, and with which she drives with 3. Freddie Rodriguez (of 6 feet under fame) as the token, brooding, bad-ass El Wray, 4. Naveen Andrews (of Lost fame) getting his brains blown off, 5. Quentin Tarantino’s cameo as the psycho soldier whose testicles fall off as he turns into a zombie (funny and eww at the same time), 6.  Fergie, Bruce Willis, Michael Biehn (need I say more?), 7. That amputated leg – it is a major star! It’s cheesy, it’s campy, it’s gross, it’s fun. Don’t expect any profoundness from this movie.

2. Last Chance Harvey - Dustin Hoffman’s Harvey is a down-on-his-luck divorced advertising composer who bails on his estranged daughter’s wedding in London, only to miss his flight because of traffic (bloody m-25!). He meets down-on-her-luck Emma Thompson’s Kate and together they bond, talk, walk the streets of London (god, I miss London!), grow a little, and fall in love. My summary does not do it justice. The plot isn’t Oscar-worthy, but Thompson is divine and Hoffman is still at the top of his game. Plus, it’s refreshing to see love stories about people who are over 50.

More later.

Missing London…

From a letter I wrote to a friend,

I miss instant hot water. I am back to heating up water for my baths. Sadness.Sometimes, when I am feeling lazy, like today, I takea bath with cold water. That was cold. I miss not being recognized by neighbors and friends and acquaintances. They look at me like I’m some kind of walking money who just came from abroad, expecting me to treat everyone.

Of course, I just ignore them. But! It is damn annoying.  I have a classmate from college who is kind of a bit famous now. His face is on the billboards. He is a broadcaster now, for a prominent national TV network, you can see his face on a billboard while you walk down Session Road. That was a bit depressing.  He wasn’t a good student, but now he is kind of successful. But! the thing is, I am not into broadcasting. I know I am not good-looking enough for that, and I hate having to dress up in skirts and wear make-up and trying to look good in front of the camera as I report about who died, who got murdered, who murdered, etc. etc. But why do I still secretly want his success? I don’t know. In London, I thought I got everything figured out. I come here, and I feel a alienated, isolated, displaced, like this neighborhood, this city, this country has moved on, and I struggle to find my place again in this country. Everything seems familiar and not-so familiar. My journalist-friend and I talked about this and we agree that we writers are artists who feel things more strongly,more profoundly than the average person. It’s not romanticizing our status,it’s just reality. I tell her but at least we are more normal than most artists or writers (who either went mad, or killed themselves or whatever), and she says, “That’s what you think.” I presume much I guess. My artist friend actually worked for that TV network as well, but left after a year or so only – I think she wasn’t into that as well. Sigh.

Sometimes I can’t help but ask myself, what am I doing here? Why did I come back?  IN the confusion and noise of thirdworld surroundings, I find the plans I made in London seem tougher to achieve – because of obstacles. I want to do so much, but I don’t know where to start.

GMA, Carlo J. Caparas, Yoyoy, Kiko, the Supreme Court and other things that can drive you mad!

So the job-hunting isn’t doing so well.

And when I mean it ain’t doing so well, I mean, it ain’t doing so well.

So, as you can see I still have more time to email, wilf, blog, text, watch the news, be forced to watch preposterous teleseryes with my mom (ABS-CBN’s “May Bukas Pa” being a prime example – ayan, iiyak nanaman si Vhong Navarro. Nampucha! Kung asawa mo sa teleserye si Mylene Dizon, what the hell would you be moping about?!?)   and generally live my life as a FUNemployed geek.  I have applied to countless employers online and have not heard from anyone since I’ve arrived here. I will have to go postal next (meaning spend money sending application letters and CVs by post) then eventually probably (quite literally), go postal over my increasingly fruitless job searches.

I am actually beginning to panic. Although I have to keep it together because inspite of all these, there is still so much to write about, like:

•  Those two old people who were buried alive under mud and trees and bark and corrugated iron sheets and rain somewhere in Balsigan as tropical storm Kiko ravaged the country. No old person should have to go through that.
• Those three kids, siblings, who drowned in the middle of Kiko’s path.
• Those artists who protested Carlo J. Caparas sudden “National Artist”award status, without doing anything worth being awarded for, recognized for, or respected for. Those artists rock and were it not for them (do I dare include myself with them?!?) art in this country would really be just one big joke now.
• That committee struggling to keep its cool even as GMA blatantly requests them to include more in its list of short-listed candidates for the new Supreme Court justice. This is a frigging big joke. GMA meddling with the National Artist Awards. Now GMA meddling with the Supreme Court Justice selection.

That being said, I have watched “City of Ember”, Keanu Reeves’ “The Day the Earth Stood Still” and Nicolas Cage’s “Knowing”. The first two sucked, but I loved “Knowing”, although I’ve already read this premise in an Isaac Asimov book. What are the odds that the writer was inspired by Asimov?

Must go now. Rains still heavy, winds still strong, there is a low pressure area somewhere off the cost of Basilan or thereabouts.

Must stay out of flying debris.

More later.

Aftermath: What happens now?

So, the late President Corazon C. Aquino has been laid to rest, finally, last night, at the Manila Memorial Park, with full state and military honors, and a pretty nifty 21-gun salute. Nobody deserves that more than her.

Before that, since her death (and during her illness), the news has been filled with nothing but images of her, her legacy, opinions and news of prominent figures and even ordinary people stating their two-cents worth about what she meant to them, to the Filipino people and what her contributions were to the world. I watched the necrological services, been moved especially by Teddy Boy Locsin’s speech eulogy (which you can read here, if you are so inclined) and by Conrado de Quiros’ speechm, as well as moved by the image of her family’s grief, most especially Kris Aquino’s, laid bare for all the world to see. I have watched the mass, and the painstakingly long funeral procession from Manila Cathedral, to Intramuros, to Roxas Boulevard, all the way to Paranaque and finally to the Manila Memorial Park. I have seen a glimpse of the burial itself, and the 21-gun salute after. I have seen the yellow balloons released, the yellow confetti streaming down her coffin, the oceans of mourners from all walks of life flowing down the procession, streams of yellow and Laban-signs, unmindful of the rain and the flood and the heat and the hunger. I watch it all in the comfort of my own home and wish that I could be there, to experience that moment of solidarity, joining the others in our collective grief and sense of loss.

I read Jessica Zafra’s post, “The After”, in which she asks, What do we do now? When all is said and done?

I think about that and I think to myself…it is alright that I did not go to her wake, the necrological service, the procession or even the burial. Not because I prefer going through my grief in the comfort of my home…but because I think more than just actually going to all the services, or going infront of the podium, the camera or other media,  to declare undying devotion and/or admiration for President Cory and all that she stood for, I think I honor her legacy and her memory more by actually committing and re-committing myself to all that she stood for: freedom, democracy, honesty, working for change, making a difference.

I do not like publicly showing emotion, or publicly declaring undying devotion or saying things that I will not live up to.

I feel that I will honor President Cory more by actually getting on with my life and continue making a difference in the best way I can. I honor her by doing simple things: by doing the right thing, not by doing things right. By standing up for what is right. By continuing the fight.

But most of all, by living a life that President Cory would be proud of.

President Cory’s wake…

Spent the whole day watching President Cory Aquino’s wake and long, slow procession down to her last resting place.

I couldn’t stop crying.

She will be missed.