Dismissed

(photo: caitanya.org)

                                                               

He was dozing off inside a waiting shed. His clothes were unkempt and dirty, his hair was greasily long, lined with grays and he was holding some empty plastic bottles... In short, he was the stereotyped street person.

You remembered the time when he was still young. He would frequent gambling areas and would mutter sentences in English. He would converse to students who pass by as if to assess their knowledge gained in school. Others would always laugh at him back then... He was considered as a joke.

Now, lots consider him as an inevitable fact in your midst...

You have always been an underdog. When you were in high school, you could never be considered as part of the IN crowd for you'd rather read than go out on the streets. Besides, your mother would not allow you to discover the dark secrets of the streets... You would always feel being outside of the picture those days... That's probably the reason why you have this empathy for the underdogs, the marginalized and the prejudiced.

Yeah, you could blame him for his irresponsibility in handling his wealth way back; you could blame his attitude towards life; his indifference to education; his incapacity to empower himself; his lukewarm treatment of his faith and the like... but could that solve his PRESENT? If you would remind him of those wasted time and resources, could it clothe and feed him?

There are things that we have to consider. These days, we live our lives so fast to cope with the pressing demands of times. We want our internet connections to have that speed similar to the speed  of light, we want to fill in every minute with something that could entertain us, we dislike the word boredom, we like fast vehicles. The person dozing inside a shed must not bother our need to run. Then, one could ask: Why are we running? What's the reason why we always have this urge to be on the fast lane?

Then we point fingers. We find scapegoats. We don't want to be responsible of anything. We blame the government. We blame the local officials. We even blame the weather...

Yes. Sometimes it's easy to talk about these things. You need to pair this complaints with the right action for these would all become blah. Because, as a responsible member of the society, a valid action must be done. You could visit the social welfare officer and ask for help...

Or, you might as well tag along Dodong the barber to give that man a haircut.

Shoot To Kill

It was around 1:30 in the afternoon when gun shots a few meters away from the school reverberated. I heard some students on the 3rd year building shriek for they were on the 2nd floor and saw the incident vividly. I was on the 1st floor trying to finalize the report for our reading program and was waiting for a visitor from the regional office to monitor the said program.

My heart was on my mouth when I saw outside the window an armed man near Abacahan Bridge running for his life. The thing to come to my mind was to protect the children for they might get hurt. Some of the kids were late in coming to school and they were within the area where the shooting happened!

A few minutes passed and a series of gun shots echoed. The vehicles stopped in front of the school and the passengers scurried towards our gate to take refuge. People were running outside the highway, some women were crying as they ran and our students all 1045 of them went out of their class rooms wondering what was happening. I signaled that they have to go back inside their classrooms to protect themselves. The ones near the road cowered. I screamed that they needed to go down to the faculty room and that the teachers will take charge. Some of the girls clung to each other and started crying.

Some meters away, I saw a body on the road and there were more armed men running in different directions. I told the students to close the window and be calm. The thing to worry me most were the ones who were still caught between the crossfire!

Fifteen minutes passed and I started to calm down inside as I saw a group of our students heading towards the school unscathed. They informed me that 3 people were killed and the students near the area were safe.

Words spread like wildfire: It was drug-related. An alleged liquidation tandem was shot by the suspected drug user and some policemen around the vicinity. It was the third shooting incident in the place with similar connotations. One was in front of a local state university and two were near our school.

After the fear subsided, questions whirled in my head like fruits in a blender. If I am the hired killer, what is my criterion to concede to the act to eliminate life? Money? Could I sleep well with money on my pocket and blood on my hands? My constant exposure to FOX's "Criminal Minds" tells me that people who hire killers are power-hungry ones where they act as gods in their own rights. They also think that they are doing the right things... some edge to insanity and and some are simply evil.

In a hushed tone, there were some who said that the people who died deserve their deaths. That's the thing to bother me since this could be heard by the young children and they would consider these dastardly acts as normal. What explanations could I give to my own child if he would ask me questions regarding this issue? How would I debrief my students who experienced the event?

My Christian convictions are inconsistent with what's happening. Killers are not heroes and drug pushers/users are society's perpetrators. But killing is still a mortal sin. I would not point fingers because I'm also guilty of a lot of things but how could I not condemn these acts which could breed to more evil ones? What would become to a society when our future adults would put the law on their hands?

For now, all I could do is to assure those young ones who are still shivering that WE ARE STILL SAFE.

I need to build people even if others are "shattering" their faith.

KOLOKOY

“What an impertinent answer!” Sen. Miriam Santiago almost screamed to the prosecutor when he failed to give her the answer expected of him. Lots of people who viewed the trial on Live TV cowered when the senator raised hell to the lawyers. A mixture of comments spilled on the social networks and even on the streets. Some even worried that Senator Miriam would have a cardiac arrest since she was under the careful eye of her doctors on hypertension.

But you got her. You may sound a bit biased since you admire her strength and intellect. But the way some lawyers acted and behaved on that court could really raise the blood pressure of a judge on her caliber. She was like a Chemistry teacher who assigned her students to differentiate acids from bases and the kids discussed about water instead. In fact Rep. Niel Tupas, Jr. led the prosecution team in showing some evidences prior to the formal trial yet he was not able to answer some figures asked by the judges. The Senate President also got slighted when he asked the court to be more… loose with the technicalities.

After two weeks, the proceedings became NOT the headlines on the primetime news. Meaning, the people’s interest started to wane down. The marketing strategies of the broadcast moguls started to be focused on other products/news which would sell… (like Grace Ibuna, the partner of Rep. Iggy and the former partner of Gabby, the actor, father of KC and the love interest of Mega some decades ago…)

That’s the problem with us, we forget easily. The stench of death in Iligan and Cagayan de Oro is still as putrid as nightmare yet we started to feast on other issues. But, why not? Aren’t we trained to be like that? How could we linger on these realities when in fact there are other things to face? And how could we remember when the TV is broadcasting on what they consider as the latest news which could be the foundation of our ideas and opinion?

You notice that there’s a slow demise of independent views on issues and even the creation of new concepts and ideas since we rely mostly on TV and immerse on the pre-conceived talk shows. The newspapers are struggling to survive since the young people are now browsing the news websites rather that holding the printed material. Independent thinking could only be developed if there’s an intellectual will to gather and dichotomize information. When we listen to the students in high school, they find it difficult to make stands on societal issues. If ever they could glibly say something, it comes out as secondhand information.

So how could we not be screamed at on the likes of Sen. Miriam who probably devours every law book in print? How could we not be among Vice Ganda’s “Madlang people” when we ourselves patronize the album of Jovit who did covers of Journey than the album of Noel Cabangon who tries to revive the lyrical genius of OPM through “Byahe”?

“You should have prepared a trial brief!” So goes the anger of Sen. Santiago… “Do your assignments!” So shouts the brilliant Chemistry teacher. And so you must.

You need to grab that book on the bedside table to exercise your brain rather than being catatonic on the pre-digested stuff on TV. You must introduce your brother to Patricia Evangelista this Sunday through the PDI.

And best, you need to face a personality as stressful as Miriam and be assured not to be said: THIS COLLOQUY MUST END!

(photo: egyolk.com)

Zandro's Gig

(This journal entry was written on August 10, 1996 at 11:15 p.m. after Zandro Urbiztondo's gig at Maalman Center, Cantilan, Surigao del Sur)

Diverse. That's the right word to describe Zandro's gig. The music he played was obviously studied to cater everyone's taste including the elders who were there to see their town's pride.

I should have brought with me a PUKOT (school paper) writer so I could be spared in writing about what transpired during the guy's concert. But the kids were exhausted due to their final examinations for the first grading...

Now for the concert:

The lighting was good. It would really touch the central core especially when sentimental songs (Will of the Wind; Nay, Tay) was highlighted with blue while the spotlight was on the singer. There was also a beautiful chaos of colors on upbeat tunes (A Girl Like You; Surigao, Surigao).

Credits also goes to the band "7th Sign" which handled the music with ease and confidence. Hats off to the drummer who blew our eardrums to smithereens.

When the guy sang REM's "The One I Love," my companion screamed his heart out especially when the singer segued to "Losing My Religion". I uttered a silent prayer for him to sing "Everybody Hurts" or "Monty Got A Raw Deal" but he probably thought these won't click with the repertoire. What would have happened to me and my companion if he performed "Ignoreland"?

The audience, mostly populated by the younger generation, was all feet and hands especially when LOCAL ROCK MUSIC was played: Eraserhead's "Huling El Bimbo"; Rivermaya's "Kisapmata and Himala", Tropical Depression's "Kapayapaan"; Rizal Underground's "Sabado Nights"; and some covers from Orient Pearl and others.

When it was time to listen to his own songs, the audience hushed including those who headbanged and those who created a mosh pit. There's this song about INSANE and "Libaungon" is thought-provoking...

But what really hit me was the blissful contentment you'd feel amidst the pandemonium of voices, emotions, movements which would merge AS ONE. You will become the music itself.

You should have seen Zandro. You would really agree with me by saying: IT WAS AN EXPERIENCE.

(image:http://www.myspace.com/zandronovo/music/playlists/my-playlist-38355)

Kinky

(photo: Roel Catoto, MindaNews)

"She's dead," your companion announced when you asked about her whereabouts. You were taken aback as if the words were thunderbolts which hit you. The motorbike hummed as your thoughts whirled with the rust-colored dust. "She was raped then allegedly murdered," the companion continued.

A certain sadness engulfed you like a shroud. You still could remember how she shivered due to hunger and cold when she asked for some food and money. Apple, as she was fondly called became alcoholic since the people (mostly male) saw her as an insignificant dot in this universe. A Mamanwa, judged due to the color of her skin and her inability to "function" well in the society. But then, what would one call a society which is indifferent and full of prejudice to these persons?

There was a time when a group of truant kids (14-16) talked publicly on how they gang-raped Apple and one even burnt her pubic hair using a lighter! The kids laughed with mirth while some adults cajoled them to continue their tale! When you had your time, you told them about The Apartheid in the US but it was beyond them. They even told you how she loved the kinky acts of having a gang as sex mates...

One time also, you had a prayer group in a cottage on a beach. On the other side, a group of drunks "supplied" Apple with intoxicants to the point that she passed out. When the closing prayer was said, your companions and yourself left her on the other cottage (the drunks went ahead) deep into limbo with the spirits and her confusions. You saw a puddle of piss below the bench she was slumped...

APPLE IS A REPRESENTATION of the IP's (indigenous people) and our attitude towards her is a reflection of our collective psyche towards them. We seem to draw a line between our ignorance and their well-being. For how many celebrations when we give them left-over food? How many times when we feel irked with them around? When there are social activities and they're present, have we seen organizers embracing them as a part of our social group?

Of course, we could say that there are right avenues in treating them, but have we initiated in the realizations of these avenues? Are local governments concerned about their identities? You even wonder if they are registered in the National Statistics Office... If not, so they do not have names and identities which are basic human rights?

Ah questions... You are also guilty of a lot of things and you must do something. You even aired your interest in adopting a Mamanwa child to be reared as a functional member of the community. But your close friends warned you about the ridicules he will receive and their itinerant genes could lead to exercises in futility. You are still not convinced for the NURTURE principle is still strong in your core. But you listened to them and has this fear of taking the risk for they might be correct...

In your area, the mining industry is thriving and there are provisions that these IP's must have their share of the wealth the miners get from their habitat. Yes, you heard about them being employed; going to the nearest city splurging on food and even cosmetics. Some are allegedly coming to beauty centers for hair-straightening and others are buying whitening lotions and signature clothes. These are probably their actions to be ACCEPTED. They'd like to be considered as "normal" so that even if some beauty consultants charge them expensively, they agree for they are also incapable of simple Math since most of them are unschooled.

It took decades for African-Americans to show to the world that their skin is not equated to their rights and capabilities. Now, America has a black president and most of the heralded athletes, performers, actors and even writers are colored. Here, you could not imagine when will it be when the Mamanwas would have a niche in a society they fairly belong...

Maybe it would be in another generation, not yours.

But I see your true colors
Shining through
I see your true colors
And that's why I love you
So don't be afraid to let them show
Your true colors,
True colors, are beautiful,
Like a rainbow.

-Billy Steinberg and Tom Kelly

Flirtations and Quickies

Reading the most wonderful book is like a relationship; reading a novel is like an affair; reading a short story is like a flirtation; reading essays is similar to a quickie; and reading a poem is like a stolen kiss in the dark.

Who said that? You wonder if it comes from a brilliant mind of a writer or something your dark half has created. You suddenly found the phrases in the drain of your mind as residues. A fleeting emotion came as you read a sad story of defeat...of noble things started which ended to be futile... Indeed, villains would sometimes come out victorious.

A NOVEL AS AN AFFAIR. You go to a place where displays of covers and blurbs are available. You take time in ogling the color combinations, the teasers, the photographs and even the minute details of the cover. Like attraction, it starts with the physical level. Then you'd decide whether to buy the book or not. Some considerations are going to be made: Would I become better if I read this? Is this worth my time, and dough?

Then because of the lust for words and the mysteries to be learned, you decide to have that connection. Despite the sales representatives' suggestions of other books, you will take the one that catches your attention. Sometimes, it's really because of the cover and that carnal desire to own. But the true test is when the process of reading happens. First two chapters, you could either be hooked or get bored with the syntax. The prose might as well titillate or inject your mind with zombie juices. The aroused goes on, but the bored would just continue the drone...

Then, the realization happens. This is the time when the reader would either devour the contents of the book or the bored would put it at the back of his mind... The affair would either end at the epilogue of at Chapter 5... Minor discussions would be started from the inspired and from the regretful, it would be the words "Good riddance!"

FLIRTING WITH THE SHORT STORY. How will you flirt? Wouldn't you dress up and try to make yourself presentable? Aren't you trying to apply how those crustaceans would do when they'd want to mate? Yes. You have this desire to be noticed and once noticed, you'd snatch the chance and try to apply the predator-prey theory.

Then, through scanning, you find your prey which will be signaled by this unknown taste in your tongue. You see the length of the article like seeing the length of the hair or anything that could be measured and of preference. Then you start the reading...

Halfway, like a waft of sour underarms, you would sometimes repel to the text especially if you prefer sweet prose or Victoria's Secret scented armpits... Or, you could get hooked which could lead towards asking for a number or an e-mail....

QUICKIES FROM ESSAYS. If you're a product of a conservative brood, you won't understand this. If you were exposed to naughty peers and an advocate of the RH Bill for the sole purpose of "utilizing your body to the fullest", you might get a quick release.

Essays could sometimes perk up your temperature to the point that blood is pumped to the sensitive organs. They, too could sting like a red hot chili pepper. But there are ruptures of bliss even if fleeting after a good read. There are orgasmic interludes and there are "how dare he write this!" moments as well.

But that's it. A quickie is a quickie...

STOLEN KISSES IN THE DARK FROM POETRY. When erotica was introduced, it created a stir in the literati. But these short verses are indeed happening in daily activities. When haiku was imprinted in your system, sometimes, you want to wipe the grime off your face and flee. But these snatches of beauty, although would lead to become a distant memory, are still good experiences in life as a continuum.

RELATIONSHIPS. Atticus Finch seems to be your neighbor. You could sometimes hear him reason out that it's not good To Kill A Mockingbird. Then, there's Jean Valjean, Cosette, Marius, Eponine and Javert. You even wandered in the streets of Paris to the barricades. And when Jean Claude Boubil converted their words to music, you could hear them sing One More Day and that sad soliloquy of Marius when he wept in front of Empty Chairs At Empty Tables...Ah, the pathos of Les Miserables.

Yes. These are the things to happen once you get hooked with a good read. You will go deeper to the minutest details of the author and even the characters. You could even empathize with them as if you're one of the characters yourself.

But you are minority. A great percentage prefer to have quickies and premature ejaculations literally rather than figuratively. They would not care about the metaphors and similes. In fact, there are some wolves in sheep's clothing who would give Messianic promises to their hapless victims.

Still, you will dwell on the places books could only provide. You throw away those ones which are not worth the time and open new chapters which could lead to beautiful and meaningful relationships.

(image: inkymole.blogspot.com)

Penis on the Cross

What's the thin line between art and trash?

This was the question to come to your mind as the noise on Mideo Cruz's art installation at the Cultural Center of the Philippines escalated to a decibel so difficult to ignore. The picture of Christ The King painted to become similar to Mickey Mouse, the cross with a condom, Virgin Mary integrated with the basketball jocks and that cross with a phallus other men would indeed envy...

The Catholic church wages war against the installation art since, for them, it's something done with malice which could even be considered as blasphemous. Cardinal Gaudencio Rosales was quoted that the artist abused the so-called freedom of expression. Several Catholic lay groups have threatened to file charges against Mr. Cruz and the exhibition organizers, and one group called Pro-life Philippines has written a letter to the cultural center demanding that the exhibit be taken down (The Globe and Mail).

You wallow in art. At a very young age, you were exposed to the literati - Twain, Lewis, Dickinson, O Henry and your all-time favorite work of literature is Victor Hugo's Les Miserables. In college, you touched-base with your own heritage by reading Nick Joaquin, Jose Garcia Villa, Kerima Polotan and the contemporary prose of Danton Remoto and Jessica Zafra.

Visual arts also interest you. You tried to understand van Gogh's eccentricities and da Vinci's hidden stories. You tried to melt with the Renaissance art and got interested with cubism via Picasso and locally, Ang Kiukok... Yeah, there were goosebumps and you were transported to a different dimension. You were able to go to a deeper place.

And then you realized that your thoughts could be translated to performance. You were able to stage socially-relevant movements which made some audience cringe on their seats especially those contemporary dances on violence against women and child abuse... Yes, you know how to make others happy and uncomfortable...

But, you understand your limitations. You're a member of a society where norms must be set. As what Eric Gancho (of YANO) said: There is only freedom to do good, other than that, it would be something else.

So what is your take on Mideo Cruz's so-called art?

That's pure insult to the Catholic faith!

You were informed that Muslims place their Koran on a very special part of the house. Could you announce that you're having an artistic itch by capturing a photograph with a model pissing on it? Would it be performance art when someone holds the hip of a woman and starts pumping her back in an act of copulation while inside a Baptist church and the rest are singing praise and worship songs? What would be the INC's reaction when you crop a picture of Manalo and put a wooden penis on his mouth? Would there be ohhhhs and ahhhss as they experience bliss or discomfort due to a so-called "deep experience"?

When the artists grouped themselves and protected their kind by saying it's a constitutional right to express one's ideas, you agreed and begged to disagree for there are things better left unsaid. They even told the television audience that Cruz's art is his stand on idolatry among the Catholics.

You were born a Catholic, a devout one and leader of a Christian community. You recently bought an image of the Virgin of Mt. Carmel and placed it on an area of your place where it symbolizes your religious convictions. But it was never meant to be adored or idolized, It's a signal for every visitor that someone living here considers praying as part of his life. It's a constant reminder about the beliefs and values to be applied. You would be enraged if someone squirts semen on the face of the image and announce it's art!

You then remember snuff films and recently those uploaded videos of sexy women sitting on rabbits and puppies until they die. You remembered your brother gagging when he viewed a violent film showing a sadistic man blow-torching a woman's eye. Those pornographic materials showing a man peeing and defecating on a woman, and women inserting baseball bats in men's anuses. These are all twisted things which are happening. But do we have to highlight these in public through installations, films, songs and other forms of art? Could it change society's ills? Or could it lead towards the enhancement of perversion and the proliferation of criminal minds...

You need to dwell on things which could lead to cohesion, healing, peace and development. There are chasms and great divides happening among the families and societies... why not dwell on them and be a harbinger of positive change?

You could consider Mia Michael's choreography on addiction and how it eats the soul... But you could never dare look for a picture of someone's mother, rip the part of where her mouth is, place a wooden penis ,carve out the eyes and crown her head with the word WHORE on it.

(photo: AFP)