Xanthous Sonnet:
Sunrise

Ecstatic lights robbed me of a climaX
Xanthous linens hung down the morning sky
I, waking up to this phenomenA
Allowed myself quite an indulgent sigh
With a single memory it begaN
Needlessly desiring to be entranced
By ironies to hurtful to resisT
Time’s elements endlessly romanced
Sensations captured in a single toucH
Hinting of nothing but a blissful day
That no depraving power could undO
Only such a godly command could sway
A brilliant eye rose to inverted depthS
Stitching the dawn into one blinding ray

Tears Beneath the Rain

I went out to stroll in the rain
Cause my heart is weighing me down
My tears I cannot hide in vain
It is now that I can’t help but frown

I thought the clouds were there to cry
But no, heaven was not in pain
And I beneath it left to sigh
Trusted my disguise to the rain

I took a shade beside an old tree
To search myself and question God
What would the world miss without me?
Creating me was rather odd

Then, a dead leaf fell on my head
As if a reminder of life
I won’t realize till I’m dead
Its significance with the strife

Guilt suddenly flooded in me
For God meant life to be a game
He wanted me to be happy
And there I was cursing his name

The brilliance of the sun came back
And it dried my sorrow away
My feet were leading to the shack
And my heart forgetting the day

If the broken love hadn’t pushed me
To set out in the rain and cry
Perhaps until now I can’t see
That there was reason to ask why

It is foolish to think that life
Can just be filled with what we see
And what was brought out by the strife
Is the only answer for me

previous epoch

An image of the previous epoch moves in front of me
A language bastardized by age is being used
Philosophical truths are being unfolded
That generations may know the barbaric reality
I can barely withstand the pressure
Information is being overloaded in my brain
Some lack the space
Others lack the enthusiasm
I lack the courage to oppose
I take all of this as truth
Despite the rebellion of my conscience
There is a need to conform

wallowing in self pity

The pallor of the walls reminds me
of an emptiness within.
The faint gush of color in the room
creates an atmosphere of somber tranquility.
I put my hands in my pocket and speak in silence.
I listen to the predominant gestures of the air
and I stare blankly at the songs
that pinch my calloused heart.
Someone salvate me from what is to come.
I find my solitude unbearable.
It decreases my morale by the hour…
by the minute…
by the second…
Deliverance is a far-fetched thought that nags me.
Promises hang themselves in mid-air
right in front of me.
I walk further down the path of the unknown.
Suicidal drops of rain clash down at my fragile flesh.
The entire earth is against my dreams.
The soil wishes to defy laws that exist,
to open up and swallow me whole.
The water holds back immeasurable strength
to avoid drowning me.
The air, though it finds it hard not to intoxicate me,
despite all odds it is surprisingly calm.
The horror of life lies smack in my feet.
Damn!
Damn!!

a mishmash of rhymes

My pain
My grief
The impact of sorrow
Shattered my delicate dreams


I’m insane
Unknown thief
Of a dormant life
That is not what it seems


Love won’t wane
Words to brief
A voice inside
Uncontrollably screams

for my darling...

In a world so measured
Why hast thou come to thee?
I’m only familiar with beats and rhythm
Like the sounds of a clock
Footfalls on the ground
Thumping of the heart

Man has given a name
To the fathomable sea
To the wavelengths of light
To the heat underneath the earth

Volumes of sound has already been labeled
Lengths of time made exact
Even structures are fashioned with proportion
In the midst of all these
Why hast though entered thy world?
With the unquantifyable intensity of your kisses
With the infinitely addicting gentleness of your touch
And with your limitless capacity to love

It has brought upon me an unexplainable confusion
But I seem to like it just the same…

Lebanon Crisis:

From 2,678 wars in the 12th century, the total increased to 13,835 in the first quarter of this century. Wilbur M. Smith estimated that “up to the close of the 19th century… 14 billion have been killed in the wars of the human race.

From 1496 BC to AD 1861, the world knew 3,130 years of war and 227 years of peace. In the last four hundred years European nations have signed more than eight thousand peace treaties. In this century 37.5 million people died in World War I and 45.4 million died in World War II. In the Vietnam conflict 57,605 U.S. lives were lost and 304,000 U.S. military personnel were injured.
-Zuck, Roy B. The Speaker’s Quote Book

WAR; so short a word and yet seems to precede doom and destruction in their most horrifying forms. It is utterly unthinkable that although no one wishes for it to happen, everyone just keeps on talking about it. In newspapers, on the television and even on history books, the occurrence of a war has always been emphasized almost to the point that it’s as if it were the only event that shapes history. There is no denying the fact that a war is a major event but, highlighting it so much gives it such popularity that makes it seem that people dwell (if not thrive) on the mere thought of it.
Recently another major war on the Middle East (or West Asia) has erupted. It is between Israel and Lebanon. Rivalry and conflict is not new to them, in fact there has been this certain atmosphere of hostility that has enveloped the region for so long. In the not so distant past, Israel fought a war to defend its territory against the three countries neighboring it. “Legend” has it that Israel is God’s gift to the Israelites upon their emancipation from Egypt. For so long they have been landless and in constant diaspora, and though ironic as it sounds, their supposed promised land is already “owned”. Throughout history, the citizens of Israel have had this form of paranoia that their land might get reclaimed and them thrown into limbo again. So in desperation, they always have to be on guard. Even women and children are trained and geared to be well versed in the complicated art of combat; they are taught how to make use of guns and how to follow positioning strategies. True enough, when the 3 other countries declared war on Israel instead of losing, Israel succeeded at extending its borders and increasing the size of its territory.
It is also not a secret that the US had a hand in Israel’s victory. Some speculate that US hegemony and influence was upon Israel as it attempted to bestow its benevolence strategy “to defend the landless.” It is crazy actually how inter-continental politics can be so annoyingly complicated yet ruefully disturbing at the same time. Why, one might ask, is Lebanon the one mostly mentioned in the news then? Why is it the Lebanon crisis? Well, for one thing its because the U.N. is having a crisis of how to let it stop its attacks…
The Filipinos wouldn’t really be involved in this mêlée, if it weren’t for the thousands and thousands of Filipinos employed in the war-stricken area. The war is an issue and the Philippines’ apparent involvement in it is yet another that merits its own discussion. Poverty, out migration, economic stability (micro and macro) and sociological complexities are only some of the major issues that surround it. It is hard to discuss all these just as it is hard to capture and capsulate the concept of the ongoing war.
The reason perhaps why I am being evasive about the topic is because I do not read or listen to the segment of the news that talks about it. I know enough to understand that people are in grave danger and that conflict is being brewed and simmered with a lot of other problems that could explode in dire vain. I know how it started and I know the reason why it escalated, and frankly it hurts to even try to contain it and know more. It is true that people wouldn’t know what peace is, if there were no conceptions of war. But it is definitely not nice to hear that we need war in order to experience peace.
Like most other people I am weakened by the mere mention of the fact that civilians are most often the victims. It is inconceivable how one would use schools for protection and risk the lives of numerous kids, more so the execution of “air strikes” above areas like schools. These are lives at stake and not just mere percentages and body counts to fill up history books. No matter how people disguise, invert, repackage and euphemize it a war is a war; and there is no excuse in engaging in it.

Mahalay ;p

Begin to unclad me with your sexy eyes from afar
Forget your moralistic sentiments and emotions at war
Forge my singularity into this awaited moment’s heat
Tease me with vibes until I’m no longer stable at my feet


Make my heartbeat echo into the darkness that falls
Talk really dirty and spare me the silence of these walls
Whisper in my ear until I forget my friggin’ name
Caress my face and kiss my temples to fire up the game


Back me into a corner where I cannot escape
Undo my clothes until they are invisibly adrape
With your hands explore my nakedness in the night
Enslave me with your tongue and vanquish my fright


Then, sweep my trembling feet off the arctic floor
Your passions, into me, I allow you to pour
Thrust yourself forward and make me arch back
Combine pain and pleasure to make me go whack


Take in my moans and satisfy my craving flesh
Then after we climax, take hold of my thresh
Brush my hair aside with your ringed finger
With the memory of our first night let us both linger

Helios

The eye of the universe stares at me
Staring
Melting
Despising my shameless existence
It burns my soul
It chars my being
It evaporates my thoughts
And lets me live in subdued misery
Making me suffer a delusional romance
Demanding me to adore
I struggle in the pit of freedom
But a force
…the heat
Waves of pure and insurmountable power
Keeps me trapped
Hidden and unable to see beyond
Beyond the piercing heat of each ray
Of each strand of ember
Of each thread of blinding light
My wrists and ankles are ablaze
Chained by searing dreams
My neck is strangled by knuckles of fire
Violently suffocating me
But I live
Despite all these
Despite the abandonment of all hope
Misery vowed to keep me breathing
Wallowing in sheer ignorance and disguised ecstasy

Restorative Justice, Poverty and HRV

Justice, a concept that is commonly associated subsequent to crime. Crime, a violation of a legislated law or even an unwritten custom agreed upon, which merits the offender a consequence of retribution. The more civilizations and societies have progressed, the more complex judicial systems have become.
In the Philippines, what is more common is the notion of retributive justice. It is a theory that presupposes that punishments are justifiable so long as they are proportional to the crime committed by the violator. Supposedly, it aims to make the criminal understand that what he has done is wrong because it causes damage to other people and the community in general. Simultaneously, punishment is something that would deter and hinder other people from violating the law. In the news for example, when the relatives of a victim would grievously face the camera and state: sana mabigyan ng hustisya ang anak ko!, they are most likely referring to retribution. Usually for damage of property, the sentence is monetary compensation or reimbursement and for physical injury, more often than not the verdict would indicate incarceration.
Theoretically there is nothing wrong with the whole injunction. But of course the effectivity of a certain system varies with respect to the culture it is imposed on. For instance in Japan, those who are sentenced to prison are still allowed a form of gainful livelihood. They are given paper work, or researches from which they can earn a minimum wage. The money that they earn is placed directly in a bank for safekeeping, which they may have access to only upon being discharged. At least they haven’t wasted months, if not years of their lives in idleness. This methodology was pilot-tested after ex-convicts complained that they often didn’t have anything to go back to when they get out of prison because no immediate employment awaits them. True enough, a very low rate of recidivism reflected the effectivity of the strategy. But sadly, in the Philippines, due to lack of funds even for vital services, our areas for confinement are one of the worst in the world. Cells are jam-packed and cramped, which results to an unhealthful and unsanitary environment. Criminals by then are made to feel the gravity of their crime even by the mere state of their place of detention. And still the crime rate of the country steadily increases year after year. What does this say about our justice system or our country in general? There is definitely something wrong…
The other type of justice, which is less popular and seldomly used is restorative justice. Supporters of this approach believe that crime is something committed against an individual or a community and not against the state. So the offender is made to undergo a process of restitution that he/she may repay the victim or community that he had offended. Activities such as public apologies, rendition of public service and counseling are just some of the things that are included. More often than not, this proposition is presented to cases of juvenile delinquents in the hope of a positive transformation. Schematically, a restorative means of resolving conflict is both less damaging and “promotes more healing” for both the victim and the violator. It shows very promising results too, because according to recorded cases it also reveals a low rate of a relapse in criminal behavior. One may wonder, why this system is not implemented in the country; it’s cause it is said to be very costly. There is a need to employ counselors, mediators to promote dialogue between the violated and the offender, case reviewers, information disseminators and collectors, as well as educators to make the public aware that the notion of justice can in fact be reconstructed in a more humane schema. Dumping convicts and letting them pile up with only food and jail guards to spend on is more “cost efficient” anyway, since after all what is being dealt with here are criminals and rotten off-springs of society. Why would people want to spend their taxes on providing for the comfort of people who have endangered the lives and property of other people? And surely, when a member of my family was killed or raped, I would want the criminal to suffer the same fate and vanish from the face of the earth. Justice: what violent truth be-webs and envelops it…
How complicated justice seems to be and yet a lot of people are uttering it as if it were such a mundane word. Restorative justice versus retributive justice; which one could truly emancipate humanity from being shackled by ignorance or overpowered by its first nature? I say, the best way of deterring crime is not in elaborating on the consequence but on preventing it. Crime… such a brutal word and yet ironically, when mentioned seems to be just another word that has embedded a bitter truth in the everyday life of many. What is wrong with our society? What is right seems all wrong and what is wrong appears to be very common…
As of late, political killings are the most rampant criminal cases that have stirred controversy. Mostly radio commentators, media contributors and journalists are the unfortunate and piteous preys of this spate. Everyone seems to know that the government has something to do with it and yet no one can give material proof that it is actually happening. It is said that the common characteristic of those who were “silenced” was that they were vocal about their resistance and opposition to the current administration. They articulated and exposed the dreadful and yet factual things that the government is letting the people experience. And for this they are eternally barred from their right to freely express themselves. Obviously, there was bloodshed, there are deaths, numerous at that; evidently there is crime. Justice is supposed to follow and yet it isn’t. Why? Because there is no one to which justice should be decreed upon. This is what I wish to point out: for what use are talks about what form of restitution or retribution is to be implemented if in the first place the condescendence of crime can’t even be agreed upon.
My thesis statement is something that involves poverty, is it too far-fetched a thought to link to political killings and justice? The need to express oneself and the capability of man to conceive notions of justice are actually fulfillment of his “higher needs”. These needs are essentially grounded on a more basic need of man, which is to survive. Food, water, clothing, shelter and the opportunity to acquire these resources are what a modern man needs to survive. The lack thereof would automatically entail poverty. In reality what occurs here is a vicious cycle of the unfulfillment of man’s basic and higher needs. Filipinos are so poverty-stricken that they do not have the avenue to develop themselves in a gainful manner because they are living in an isang kahig-isang tuka manner. Those who are able to overcome this stage and are elevated to the status of taking care of their political/ civil rights are being killed by those who want to remain superior. Supposedly, media people hold the key to public awareness, they have the power to educate and awaken the people from ignorance. They can expose the inefficiencies and irregularities in the government so that people will act and take away the force that oppresses them and that thy may free themselves from poverty. But these significant people are being hunted down for “inciting to sedition” and are taken cared of “extra-judicially”. What is there to restore, when lives of people can never be brought back? There can never be justice. People remain in their state of poverty because of fear that when they try to satisfy their higher needs, their right to exercise their freedom to speak or even to think freely, they would suffer a gruesome fate. Poverty: Justice: Freedom; their strands are far more entangled than we perceive and yet no one seems to know how to reduce the chaos that there is at present.

Manila Collegian Special Issue: SONA

As to be expected, I didn’t even have to open the paper in order for me to know what was inscribed in the pages. The black and red façade said it all. The ever-famous and legendary combination of black and red were used to capsulate and symbolize all the angst, despair and revulsion that the citizens felt for the government. I known it to be the truth that whatever regime or administration was seated in power, the UP publication would always abhor. Whoever was in power would still be subject of scrutiny, criticism and blatant condemnation by the writers of the publication. I do not know whether the writers personally believe in this or the current editors are just adjusting the articles so that the articles would keep up with the paper’s reputation. Either reason, I don’t care. It’s rather shallow, one sided and overly sensationalized. For the same reason that I keep on delaying or avoiding my rounds of reading the Philippine Daily Inquirer… it’s cause they’ve had enough.
Perhaps there is truth in all the figures and accusations that are gathered and used as data but perhaps it could be presented in a less harassing way. I am not surprised that a lot of citizens are malcontented, whiny and have such down-trodden outlooks toward the country and the government, it is because its spelled all over newspapers and displayed across TV screens and blared on radios. If the truth could actually set us free then why are we all burdened by agitation and restlessness?
The president hasn’t even delivered her SONA, the Collegian has already distributed its materials for propaganda. It could be viewed as political sabotage but I guess they would insist “that it is a responsible citizen who is vigilant about issues.” I’d say fine, they can publish their own version of the SONA whenever they want, but I challenge them not to use loaded words and present both sides or at least not just he negative news because it spoils and extinguishes whatever little hope and confidence that the citizens have on its government.
Social services and basic need like water, education, pa-tubig, and electricity cannot be given instantaneously. And surely there is a much more civilized and less troublesome way of demanding from the government what has been long due, other than shouting it out on the streets and disseminating below the belt accusations of the president. Mas may awa pa ang mga salot na dalubguro ng UP sa pagbibigay ng grade kaysa sa mga estudyante sa kanilang gobyerno. I have a theory that they are just channeling their unrelated anger and frustrations in life to the government.
I am not an avid fan of the government; I have thrown my share of criticisms on their means of governance. But I try to balance it out, with proposals what could be done or at the least bit imparting a sense of hopefulness that its performance would improve. The recently concluded SONA, I believe should be commended for its optimistic and futuristic plans for the Philippines though in reality it seems rather farfetched and hard to grasp. There is sense in trying to look back on previous SONAs for reference and to follow-up what should have been accomplished but it could have been done in a more objective manner.
Honestly, I do not know how else to analyze the content of the Manila Collegian’s version of the SONA, it is in fact all laid there, bear and raw for everyone to see. Columnists are pressured to make their articles “sell”, but of course this should not go beyond the extent of sacrificing the balanced presentation of both sides or as much perspective on any issue.

on Bob Marley...

It is to my utter embarrassment that I am going to admit that I have never heard a single song of Bob Marley prior to the recently concluded ACLE that we had in DS121. Although I know for a fact that there is a singer named Bob Marley, beyond that I didn’t know anything. I thought at first that he was very famous because he sported those oh-so dreadful locks of his, from which I wrongly concluded that it was a trademark or signature look that he did to promote the sale of his records (kinda like Avril Lavigne with her punkish look or Carlos Santana with his decorated guitar). Also I know for a fact that he had a double-digit number of species of creepy crawlers in his head and from then on I didn’t really bother to know more about him.
As it turns out, I am one of those people that he complains about and condemns in his song. I was overly biased and prejudiced. I thought all reggae artists came up with songs that you could dance to and groove with, yet another embarrassing fact that I have to admit. And again, since Bob Marley was dark-skinned I thought that he was the ghetto type of singer who transferred the volume of bling-bling instead to the volume of hair he had.
I am a lyrics person. The melody and rhythm of a song seldom mattered to me because, not unless I get to know the lyrics first I wouldn’t really appreciate anything. It’s such a shame that I have never encountered Bob’s songs earlier on, I feel that it’s such a loss. Justice, freedom, and truth are the major themes of his songs and they contain as much reality as can be possible. I am saddened about the fact that mainstream artists keep on singing about their pitiful emotional wallowing or magnified attraction towards sexuality. Seldom do socially significant songs catch up on the market and get famous and sadly even if they do, are perhaps not considered for their intrinsic value.
Not everybody is brave enough to talk about hunger, a detrimentally stratified and unjust society and the dirty politics that is involved in religion. For someone to sing about it and make the world aware of his opinions is something truly to be recognized and celebrated. No wonder that even if Bob Marley has long since passed away, his music still continues to inspire and kindle awareness. The youth are the most vocal about their affinity with music, and most probably so will they be the direct beneficiaries of various artists who care enough about the rest of the world to include reality in their songs no matter how harsh it may seem.
I agree with Bob when he said “so much trouble in the world”, but what’s more disturbing about this fact is that people are not conscious of it. If more singers could only sing, more poets could only write and more painters could only paint about how much the world needs to be transformed from its current state then perhaps there is hope for all of us. Partial redemption can afterall come in a form of enlightenment and freedom from the darkness of ignorance. If, in our everyday lives what we see, hear and read reminds us that there are people who are trapped in a vicious cycles of poverty and starvation, of lawlessness and injustice and of violence and apathy, then I believe it would be abnormal not to be moved into praxis.
A picture can paint a thousand words, a poem can capture a thousand paintings and a song could captivate more than a thousand minds. Art is a special medium by which messages can be creatively passed across. Bob Marley is just a single person who wrote and sang of the various injustices that he had witnessed that all of us (I presume) experience anyway. Personally, I believe that its hard to dance to his reggae knowing that what he is singing about is the struggle of humanity to uplift itself from its awful state. I consider myself to be a convert, from non-knowing to enlightened and appreciative. Its really ironic that it is from an artist that I have looked though that I would learn so much with just a single song. But I guess that’s just part of the irony of life that everyone have repeatedly refused to look into.

All because of you

I used to care about the whole world
The global scale mattered more than anything to me
When I cross the street
I got so used to the honking of buses,
it did not bother me anymore
When I look up skyscrapers,
my eyes seem to have room for more
When I get to pass by dumps of garbage
my hand seldom reacts to shield my nose
I eat food…lots of them
and I still seem to crave for more
My hands… pages of books, knobs of doors
a variety of fabric, the list could go on forever
without me noticing the objects that grace my fingertips
The world was so huge
I thought that I could never get enough of it

But you came…
I saw you…
And you conquered me…
You tilted my world on its axis
You made me rotate more than I could handle
And my concern for the whole universe
Amounted to just as much as I cared for you

The beat of my heart and the tocks of the clock seemed to deafen me
A drop of tear blinds my sight
The smell of a rose overwhelms my senses
Even the sweetness of water satiated both my hunger and thirst
Now my hands, they react to the slightest touch of your skin

From honking to measured beats
From scrapers to a single drop
From heaps to a petal
From culinary perfection to a tasteless liquid
From millions of objects to the touch of your skin
You encased my world into smaller proportions…
But now I seem to value life even more

A Usable Past by Renato Constantino

The concept of using the past or one’s history in order to guide the present and the future is a very nice strategy. Afterall, history does not shape itself, it is the people and the circumstances involved that create it and make it worthy to be remembered. There is nothing wrong with this concept per se at first glance, but within the context of the Philippines this could be very problematic. If we examine the Philippines’ past, we will see that we have been transferred from the hands of various colonizers, which have considerably stamped an impressions in all aspects of our culture (i.e. politics, social practices, religion and so forth). It is then hard to define and delineate which ones are ours and which ones are theirs. The Spaniards have held us almost entirely with the exception of the Muslims in Mindanao and a couple of isolated areas for over 3 centuries. The Americans in the same manner, regardless of how much they’ve disguised their hegemony under the cape of benevolence have had us for over 4 decades (some argue that it continues to date). Then the Japanese; who compensated for the short-termed reign of theirs by the intense horror of their dreadful presence. Technically, the Philippines have a very young conception of freedom and independence, so which part of the past is there that is usable?
Through out those years, what the Filipino had was a way of life subservient to others deemed more superior. Various cultures have been imposed unto us; our women were forced to be conservative and religious, our leaders thereafter were groomed to be dependent on the benevolence of others, after which our people were altogether made to fear defiance of authority. For one, our past may not be as useable as we think because it is a history of regret. For another, our past is not “just our past”, it is a past contaminated by other cultures.
Seeing it in another light, our struggles have driven us to be strong. We have rightfully rebelled against conquerors. But for what? …Only to be enslaved by others anew? The Katipuneros have declared revolution only to see their brothers embrace the stars and stripes of another country. It’s as if we are trapped in a vicious cycle, that instead of wisely emerging from our struggles, we are bound to undergo almost the same thing in order for us to “feel the gloriousness of triumph” again. The memory of EDSA was not simply commemorated; it was relived in its truest sense. It’s as if the people keep on wanting to suffer because, freedom is sweeter when proceeded by bitterness. In what instance has the past been usable there?
I am not deliberately contesting Renato Constantino’s claims; he is far more learned and experienced than me. But perhaps dissecting matters and looking at them from a different perspective would be helpful in identifying what went or will go wrong. It was Constantino himself who said that the past should not only be descriptive, but analytical as well and that it should present objective as well as value-laden developments. I am sure that I am not the only one who has observed these things in our history (the aforementioned observations); this is exactly why it needs to be given considerable attention.
“The past is a concrete historical reality and should be an integral part of the process of unfolding reality… the present must be perceived as part of the process constituted by a real historical past dissolving into a real historical future, and only through this can the future be consciously shaped.” Roughly this is what R. Constantino intends to say; I have a question (not only for him, but for everyone, including myself as well). If the past should not be taken as a frozen reality, then it intermingles with the present; so the present would be a crude mixture of what has happened and what is happening. So then the future will be a blend of these? Won’t it be almost the same as reliving those moments and tasting the same flavor? Shouldn’t we rise above the past in order for us not to impede real progress? In essence, with what can be readily observable in our country’s history is that, events repeat themselves in almost the same fashion; could this be a result of reusing the past. Its either the whole concept is problematic, or it is our misuse that is getting us into trouble. Frankly, with the way things are, it seems that the Filipinos do not learn from their mistakes and are not utilizing the events of the past the way that they ought to. Again, it is not the idea of reusing the past that is condemnable, the question is; in a macro perspective, is it in the first place, even remotely feasible/ consciously practicable?

Slumber

A light breeze triggers me
Echoes of the real world start to fade
The fairy of dreams seduces me
Commanding my lashes to fall
How can I resist such enticement?
I wish to defy
So I grip tighter to the brink of the present
I should not give in to an invitation to slumber
I need to be awake
A sprinkle of dust fall on me
But I continue to hold on to my reality
No matter how unpleasant
How sordid
And how unfulfilling it may seem
My lashes grow heavier
And the windows to my soul are almost closed
I beg
My utterance of mercy seems to have worked not
Because the seduction continues
The fairy of dreams blows another breeze
Gently releasing her breath in my nostrils
My grip of my sanity fades
I am weak
My flesh and my psyche
For I surrender to this
I submit all my passion
To experience a full night of bliss
Of transient and ephemeral bliss…

doodling on physics class...

The smoothness of ether invisibly cloaks me
I am enclosed in a warped dimension of light
It can neither be ignored nor can it be escaped from
Visible rays of light devour the consistency of darkness
I am enlightened by the strength of a dying truth
Exiled by the masters of the cosmos
And shunned by the emptiness of existing realities
I write with suppressed anguish and boredom
Feelings that I have vowed to disregard
Feelings that have sawed rigid edges
…On the corners of my distraught heart
Sooner or later I would have to conform
Sooner or later a choice must be made
Time is swiftly raging in currents of immeasurable quantity
The past will be erased and the future will still be a dreaded mystery
This is the law of the universe
It waits for no one and its command is absolute and encompassing
Theories are engraved and laws are made even more eternal
Beams of light still rise and set
The division of day and night is held intact
But other than this, everything is dependent
…On the curse of relativity of time and space

Obsession

You haunt my every thought
Like bittersweet symphonies in the night
You line my every word
Like clichés of movie posters in sight
You are the source of strength
In every single task that I do
My inspiration at length
But I doubt if you have the slightest clue
You stop my every step
With every glance you throw my way
Making me feel like crepe
With all the flowery words that you say
You make my skin tingle
With each breath that you exhale
Making my mind mingle
With thoughts that I won’t dare to unveil

My Immortal

…When I, beneath this earth start to lie
Accepting my fate locked in a grave
For all men should rest too and then die
With only the grace of God to save

…When all of those who breathe are dead
And tongues silenced from what they rehearse
For upon this earth we all once bled
Proved worthy an epitaph with verse

…When all the memories are forgotten
And left to fall in the edge of time
Those who thought they’d survive are rotten
For only you would remain sublime

…When all is engulfed by the darkness
Only you can transcend the judgment
For you stepped on earth with holiness
To extend God’s mercy you were sent

Maoism

Maoism is an ideology derived from the beliefs, lifestyle and principles of the late Mao Tse-tung who was born in one of the provinces in China. I have observed that a lot of political personalities who advance their principles were born with well-to-do families as in the likes of Jose Rizal, Simon Bolivar who were geniuses and academics in their own right. No wonder they have room to discover and theorize about society; it’s because they were formally schooled thus are equipped for further accumulation and cultivation of knowledge. Also, what is common with the 3 (and others) aforementioned personalities is that, it is their status of being learned that has opened their mind to possibilities of reform and societal transformation though in different styles.
What surrounded Mao during his time was an array of differing and diametrically opposing political beliefs. Though both Chinese, the Nationalist and the Communist parties were violently against each other. Another issue was that the Communist Party to which Mao belonged was under the influence (possibly even being manipulated) by the Russian communist leaders namely Lenin and Stalin. It was almost impossible to organize anything because even internal affairs were not consolidated and did not agree on many things. There was one point wherein there was an assassination plot planned against Mao by one of his supposed colleagues. So for one man to be steadfast despite this much adversity rightly deserves to be at the least bit recognized.
The Long March was one of the landmark events that rocked Chine during the time of Mao, from more than a hundred thousand supporters, the number was reduced to a mere ten thousand and Mao was one of them. The communists had much to prove with what they did; after being shunned and persecuted by the supporters of Chiang Kai-shek they were forced to escape the wrath of the nationalists and turn to the provinces. It was through this even that Mao theorized that they needed the peasants in order for the spirit of communism to live on. It was through the peasants in the countryside that most of the communist supporters survived. In the same way, the peasants developed a sympathy for the marchers that they’ve already absorbed their principles.
This is perhaps where the contemporary members of the New People’s Army are structuring their strategies from. Namumundok sila at dumudulog sa kanayunan dahil naroon ang tunay na pakikibaka. Mao during his time saw that the cities monopolized the attention of public officials, which was very unfair to those residing in the rural areas. In the Philippines, followers of Mao, who was largely a Marxian disciple, believe in land reform for the peasants. Vast tracks of land are owned by only a few, there is a need to collectivize farming because those who till the land at present are living below their supposed level of subsistence.
Mao was restored to power when the nationalist party were not able to sustain their grip on power. Mao proposed and implemented the Great Leap forward wherein he asked farmers to become workers in the campaign to industrialize the country. His intentions were good; the drive to modernize a nation would be greatly beneficial if things had gone the right way. The country was under the spell of a famine that critically affected their agriculture. The drought/ famine and the lessened number of field tillers resulted to the death of thousands of Chinese. This not only decreased his popularity, he also became an object of hate for the people.
Just like other people in politics, Mao had his share of ups and down. but despite all this, his name is contained in various history books, which only means that he has made a significant mark in history. His Red Book contained much of what he believe in and is constantly referenced by communists who wish to continue his struggle and propagate his ideology.

Just Once

I can only love once in a lifetime
It is only once that a heart can feel
The romance in a certain lover’s rhyme
And believe in his proposal of zeal

I was only blessed with a single heart
Either to be broken or completed
But to decide is to master an art
An art never known to have existed

I have known love to be a paradise
That one can only see if love is true
It should be the only thing that would suffice
And I felt all of these when I met you

on thinking...

­I think too much
And it hurts
It hurts to know
But it also hurts to not know
I don’t think
I feel…
I feel wrath…
Then I start to think again
I hate
I hate life
I hate love
I hate thinking
I hate knowing and not knowing
I hate myself for writing this
But I am…
And I will continue to…
So my hate increases…
Increasing…
Hurting…
Strangling…
Burying me….
Killing me…
Drowning me in the depths of rebellion
I hate
Therefore I will hate
But I wish I hated hating
Cause it hurts to hate
For hate is hate
And hate is a product of thinking
A process, which I hate to do
So I feel
But I feel wrath
And wrath is hate
So what am I left to do?
If not to think
If not to hate
If neither to say nor to write
Of a hate
that I abhor so much

Dear Hickie,

Find the hidden hickie…
Where hast thou been made
Are you in my neck, cheek, shoulder…
Or have I actually been laid?


Can my hair hide you?
Under its cascading length
Or should I dare display you
To manifest arousive strength


Roses are often dull red
And violets are not always blue
You are brighter dear hickie
And every seer would get the clue


How shall I excuse myself
While conversing with mom and dad
With you sitting prettily in my neck
They’d surely go ballistic and mad

Would there be more of your kind
In my chest, in my belly or perhaps down there
Would I be given more pleasure,
When you are in places no one can bare?


Now that I have found you little hickie
O please do not subside yet
I’m not ready to release your memory
I have been happy though we have briefly met


It was fun having you around
But summer would soon be over
This fling would undoubtedly end
Perhaps in winter we’ll meet through some lover


*the reason why i find it so easy to write about these things is because i have nothing to hide from people. writing is an outlet for me... i don't claim to have experienced all of the things that i write about... its more like this is where i pour out my curiosity... if anybody's grossed out about what i write about, don't worry... i am too ;p

Frozen

My hands are frozen
And my lips are quivering
My insides are wrapped in sheets of ice
And my body is being blown by a blizzard
The sun outside shines with all its might
It showers me with all its radiance
But it doesn’t reach me
The spirits of spring and nature console me
But end up a failure in doing so
The whirlwind of snowflakes continue in me
Burying me further down
I could do nothing
I did not struggle
For I would only end up hurting more
I have accepted my fate
I have long believed I would end up this way
I would die bearing a hungry heart
An aching body
And a hopeless soul
So let the world be still and silent
Let the streams of life flow on
For I am not one of great importance
Therefore better of left alone
Let my conscience drift
And my frozen body will be taken cared of
Let my soul transcend existing barriers
And float off to a realm, which does not exist
I do not care anymore
Anything would be better than this frost
…even death

Paranoia

I have set balustrades as high as my chin
Padded the walls of the room I was in
Tightly hooked every furniture, frame and block
Bolted every knob and chained every lock


My eyes were alert all the time
My ears awoken to the sound of a muted chime
My body was poised in a battle stance
My tongue ready to spit words sharper than a lance


Paranoia conquered every turn that I took
My hands, oh how they uncontrollably shook
I cannot afford my defenses to be down
Despite the fact that I was a freak around town


For I know that as soon as she lays sight on me
Demons of revenge will dance with lustful glee
She will not make haste in strangling my neck
Like turning the table to get better cards in the deck


Slowly she would tie my body and make the kill
An object to be destroyed and disposed at her will
The time I have now to live I will not waste
cause my time to die will not be in painless haste

…HIS VENGEFUL WIFE IS AFTER ME…

Faded Fantasy

The stars in heaven twinkled less
And the fantasy seems to fade away
Even the night was a mere darkness
To my bitter emotions, a constant delay

Even the moon did not shine like before
Or perhaps I refused to see its light
Succeeding to erase an established rapport
Between the real world and my plight

Elation?!

Wasn’t this supposed to elate me?
Then how come I feel all wasted
What wrong turn did I make for me to end up in this Inferno?
How long have I resisted this feeling?
I am delusional and oblivious of the world around
Then just like that…
My heart was shattered
Back to its broken form
The pieces are scattered in endless directions
I seem to not have the courage to collect them all
For what use are the broken pieces
If not to be broken further down?
Just like my life…
What else is its use when everything is ruined
Suspended into thin air
What else is left that is whole in me?
I am but a clump of flesh
Moving without life and void of emotion
What happened to me?
How come I ended up in this state?
I am unaware of the surroundings
I did not notice that it was eating me up
Now I am this
A hand that writes
Of nothing but emptiness
A shallow pit filled with broken pieces
Of the past…
Of my heart…
Of my soul…
I have no idea of what step to take next
Hope that someone would know how to put them back together?
But it is useless to hope
For everything is beyond reproach
Beyond remorse
And beyond a life that seeks to defuse
All because of an experience I dared to feel

Denial

Why am I speaking with this kind of pride
That as if my ego is not estranged
Why do I act like I’ve so much to hide
But very well in fact I have just changed

What right do I have to say I’m the same
When the truth is in love, I did fall
Moreover, why am I agitated by your name
And claiming that I don’t know you at all

CURSE

It is a curse I have to suffer
One distantly more unbearable than death
I am covered by a shadow
A trailing dark figure of the one ahead
People compare me
People misjudge me
Decisions are biased
My future is controlled
My freedom is mercilessly disregarded
I am not at peace
My footsteps will never be in serenity
I cannot count on myself to walk a straight path
I have to subject myself to this torture
My determination is being unobtrusively quelled
My methods labeled unorthodox
My passions accused to be outrageous and revolting
And I…
Even my parents point to me as a sinner
Heaven forgive me for what I will do
I will disobey that which is imposed on me
I will risk my reputation to build myself
To spell my name in the walls of history
And not merely an echo of what had gone ahead

Commentary: Randy David’s A Society of Cults

It’s all a matter of perspective… and this I shall justify at the later part of this commentary.
I can remember my highschool fieldtrip to Mt. Banahaw. Prior to the actual trip itself we were already briefed about what to expect. Leave nothing but footprints, burn nothing but calories, take nothing but pictures…those were the typical taglines, which pretty much summarized how we should deal with the environment that we were about to venture into. But how to deal with the people we would be meeting there?! Well it merited an entirely different discussion. “Ladies, heighten your sensitivity and learn how not to be discriminatory”… obviously referring to the Rizalista’s that had their “kuta” beside the Husgado Cave, our teachers and tour guides warned us over and over, never to mention the word “kulto” in their presence.
Obviously the word in itself connotes a sense of derogation. As defined by trusty Mr. Webster a cult is: a quasi-religious group, often living in a colony, with a charismatic leader who indoctrinates members with unorthodox or extremist views, practices or beliefs. Adopting this definition makes it sound less harassing but in reality it makes the subject matter even more ambiguous and controversial.
As how I understood it to be, what Randy David was trying to underscore in his article was the unexplainable yet existent phenomenon of fanaticism. That when one is considered to be such, it’s hard to delineate figurative from literal; actual from idealistic, pragmatism from romanticism and more importantly actual reality and subjective reality. My mom once told me, in her wisdom and knowledge never to argue with a fanatic. I never really realized the seriousness of what she said until I did… and based on experience it’s not something that you would wish to re-live.
People who go by the flow of the mainstream couldn’t quite understand why, extremists like these exist in society. The followers of Hitler were such fanatics, that one could only wonder what kind of indoctrination was done unto them to make them so mad at an entire race and resort to killing approximately 6 million of their kind. Same as with the group of Osama bin Laden, which in the same way made their followers believe that they have to be suicide bombers to fulfill their destiny. We can call them fanatics and their group cults simply because we do not know where else to classify them.
Ecological radicals which believe in three frameworks none of them part of the mainstream can again be labeled as such. Eco-radicals believe in deep ecology, eco-feminism and social ecology that basically put the blame on the human race for the destruction of the environment. A true blooded eco-radical would be one who wouldn’t eat meat or freshly picked fruit and would be very careful not to step on plants because they believe that it is a form of murder. The preservation of nature is paramount that they aim to reverse and phase out all forms of technology so that our species may once again live in harmony and amidst the purity of nature. For some it is a form of psychosis to be this extremely attached, for others it is a case of absolute and unrecoverable fanaticism.
Even the leftists are not spared from this. Mainstream believers accuse leftists of penetrating the barrios and indoctrinating people who are not formally educated because they are the most vulnerable thus easy to sway. Karl Marx and his contemporaries (the Communist Manifesto as their bible) would serve as their “prophets” because leftists live and hang on to their every word. Protracted war is by all means justifiable to eradicate the current system.
I can actually continue mentioning all sorts of beliefs/ advocacies that people find worthy of their efforts yet relative to others is just a mediocre ideology; my point is: if there is one thing that I agree with in what Randy David has written, it is that fanatics exists and that our society is indeed a mish mash of different and sometimes clashing cults…. But sometimes it’s also a matter of perspective…

Bibingka Strategy

I thought at first that this term pertained to the strategy that was used to make the bibingka business successful I was mistaken. It seems that it actually refers to the manner in which bibingka is being prepared which is figuratively analogous to the strategy for national success. The only thing that is required is to have an ongoing fire on both sides of the bibingka; the top and the bottom. Roughly, the same is true for our country.
A simultaneous top-down and bottom-up approach is needed in order to make an endeavor successful. Centralizing action and the motion for change is useless; if the campaign is not disseminated nothing will happen. The same is true the other way around, without the cooperation of those at the base, development will never be attainable.
I am reminded of 2 theories of planning that is very much applicable to the aforementioned approaches. First is the Comprehensive-rational approach which could serve as the top-down strategy. Here, planners clarify goals, systematically analyze policy alternatives, sets standards and criteria for implementation then afterwards monitors the results. This is often done using the macro perspective and more often then not it is our elected leaders who act upon this responsibility. Their task is to oversee what happens from the top, but this doesn’t necessarily mean that they should monopolize the resources. When utilized properly, this planning strategy can yield results parallel to set objectives. The strengths of this approach lies in the fact that it, as it aims to be inclusive, a lot of issues are recognized therefore can be addressed with the proper solution. Also, from the top there are a lot of experts, learned individuals and technocrats that can be tapped to help in the process. On the other hand, what makes this strategy dysfunctional is the lack of coordination with the people below. Sometimes policies are formed but they are imposed upon the people because their input is discredited and not given importance from the start.
Next, the bottom-up strategy can be concretized through the implementation of the grass roots approach. This makes use of the microeconomic perspective. This makes room for the opinions and suggestions of the masses in general because they might know a thing or to about how to improve themselves and their kind. The psychology and culture of the different strata of the society is unique to their own; who else would be better at generating appropriate solutions that would not be a hassle to follow than one of their own?
When laid out like this, it seems so simplistic and unbelievably idealistic. In reality, what is hindering this strategy is the fact that members under the different strata have clashing interests. Those at the top and the ones at the bottom not only have different objectives, because with that there is room for compromise. The real situation is that, they have opposing goals. It is hard to settle on the middle ground for this to extremes but it is possible.

Ako, ang Taft Avenue …at ang UP

Ako at ang Taft Avenue… mahabang kwento ito! Una kong narinig ang tungkol sa Taft sa aking ate, first year siya noon, Area Studies sa UP Manila at ako 3rd year highschool pa lang. Basta ang alam ko, dun kung kalye ng UP…at ng Rob! Wow mall! Ang swerte ni ate!
Akala ko dati papayagan ako ng aking inay na huwag muna mag-college. May panata ako sa sarili ko na pag ‘di ako pumasa sa UP, magpapahinga muna akong isang taon bago sumubok ulit sa ibang pamantasan. Akala ko magkaka-nervous break down ako nung highschool. Hindi ako nag-apply sa ibang school at alam kong labis-labis ang pagnonobena ni mommy sa kung sinu-sinong santo para sa akin. Gumapang sa kahabaan at ka-initan ng Quiapo, tumulay sa miswa, lumamon ng apoy, ganyon si ma! Nagkataon na hindi ako pumasa sa UPCAT, pero pinanindigan ni mommy na hindi! Hindi lang daw ako umabot sa cut off kaya ipapa-reconsider niya. Kawalan daw yon ng UP, matalino daw ako at maganda naman, pero siyempre nanay ko siya; kahit ikasunog niya sa impyerno ang pagsisinungaling, ok lang. Pinapili niya ako kung sa Manila o sa Diliman ko gusto mag-aral. Seryoso ko siyang sinagot na parang gusto kong mag-agriculture sa UP Los Baños para kung sakali maipagpapatuloy ko ang pamamalakad ng mga bukid ni lolo sa Mindanao. May sira na daw ako sa tuktok at bakit daw gusto ko pang magpa-rape sa kagubatan. Kung tutuusin mas maraming course sa Diliman at may pinsan naman akong kumukuha ng public ad.doon. Pero sabi ni mommy sa Manila na lang daw ako para si ate na mismo ang magbabantay sa akin. Masyadong malaki ang Diliman para ma-matyagan ako Palagi ng aking pinsan; wala talagang tiwala sa akin si mama. Pero, parang tadhana, d’on nagsimula ang love affair ko kay Taft.
Noong unang linggo ko sa UP, hirap na hirap akong pumasok. Matapang ako mag-commute pero bulok talaga ako sa direksyon kaya kahit anong turo ni ate lagi akong nawawala. Halos tatlong linggo din bago ko naperpektong pumara ng sakto; minsan Kalaw pa lang bumababa na ako, feeling ko kasi ang lapit na. Minsan naman nasa Pedro Gil na ako bago mag-register sa utak ko na, teka, lagpas na yata ako, hindi ko na alam ang lugar na ito!
Malaman-laman ko lang na karamihan ng mga kaklase ko ay mga “recon” din pala. Medyo bumalik ng konti ang self-esteem ko. Nung una pakiramdam ko’y isa akong basahang pinilit itabi sa mga henyo. Kala ko kailangan maging ka-buhok ko muna si Einstein bago ako maging katanggap-tanggap. Hindi naman pala… medyo lang…Sa kabuuanok lang naman sa akin ang pagpasok, minsan nga lang pabugsu-bugsoang enerhiya ko, parang manic-depressive. Na-weirdohan din ako sa ibang prof o baka hindi lang siguro ako sanay na informal yung treatment nila sa mga estudyante.
Marami akong ayaw sa UP, ayaw ko yung pagkain kasi mapapa-fast food ka Palagi at ito’y nakakataba. Ayoko yung mga CR dahil minsan walang tubig. Ayoko din ng mga maiingay na aircon, feeling ko sasabog sila anytime at lalapnusin yung mukha ko. Pero ang pinakaayaw ko sa lahat ay yung papunta at pauwi sa bahay. Puñeta! Mapapamura ka ng todo sa saobrang traffic.
Taga QC ako kaya halos 1 oras ang biyahe ko. Babagtasin ko ang kahabaan ng Espanya (mula E.Rod), Quiapo, Lawton, tsaka pa lang ako makakarating sa Taft. At dahil kuripot ako (jeep at hindi FX ang sinasakyan ko) nalalanghap ko ang halimuyak ng kalunsuran. Hindi na ako magtataka kung sinabi sa akin isang araw na may taning na ang buhay ko dulot ng lung cancer.
Malimit banggitin ng mga progresibong org na nasa lansangan ang tunay na buhay at doon ka talaga matututo. Aba, totoo pala! Simula pa lang , feeling ko ang galing ko na dahil wais na ako, marunong na sa buhay (at pwede na ikasal) Magbabanggit ako ng ilan sa mga ito. Natutunan ko na:
Huwag masyado magsuot ng puti dahil mabilis itong malulusaw. Walang ibang paraan para ibalik ang tunay nitong kundi babarin ito ng magdamagan sa matapang na bleach (pinakamadumi ang hangin pag rush hour sa Taft)
Huwag agad tatawid kahit green na ang stoplight para sa tao, hindi kaagad kumakagat ang preno ng mga sasakyan.
Magdasal ka araw-araw kung Mahal mo pa ang buhay mo; kahit bakla at batang babae pwede kang tutukan ng banana cue stick at hold-apin ang bag mo.
Mas mabuti pang matulog na lang kaysa mag-isip habang trapik kundi maaga kang mapra-praning.
Hindi bodhi tree ang bubong ng jeep, siguraduhing nagawa na ang homework at nakapag-aral na bago umalis ng bahay.
Maagang lalabo ang mata mo kung lagi mong pipiliting basahin ang ga-dangkal mong readings habang nagco-commute
Sari-sari ang mga taong makakasalumuha mo. Marami ang naniniwala na sila ang hari ng kalsada. Magdala rin lagi ng panyo; mahusay itong pananggalang kung may BO/ halitosis ang katabi mo.
Huwag masyadong gumastos sa pagpe-pedicure dahil lagi’t-laging madudumihan ang paa mo pwera lang kung marunong kang mag-levitate. Sayang ang French-tip, manghihinayang ka lang…
Sa kalsada pantay-pantay ang lahat. Maging kalbo, matalino o maputi ka man, ash tray ang labas mo.
Kahit ano pang panlalait ang gawin mo hindi kusang lilinis ang hangin, gagalang ang mga barubal na drayber, mawawalan ng lubak ang kalsada at titino ang mga gago’t kupal na buwaya.

…at dahil alam ko ang lahat ng ito alam ko rin kung alin ang dapat magbago/ baguhin. Ang Taft, kahit hindi tunog Pilipino ay sumisimbolo sa Pilipinas gaya ng iba pang busabos na kalye. Maaaring puro kabulukan ang nakikita ko pero hindi ibig sabihin nito na tanggap ko ang riyalidad na ito. Mahal ko ang Taft, ang UPM at ang Pilipinas kahit gaano pa man ako pinahihirapan nito na alam kong ‘di naman sadya. Inutusan ako ni mommy na mag-shift sa ibang course; kung dati sinusunod ko lahat ngayon tumutol ako dahil alam kong kailangan ng Taft, UPM at ng Pilipinas ng mga tulad ko.

Reflections of a Teenage Drama Queen

1
A rogue I once was
Sporting unbrushed teeth
And a bold rotten tongue
I was severed by the ages
Bitter carvings they were
What I have borne was
Once a fragile soul
But I was bitten by Pleasure
Disfigured by the dregs
Of its uncontained corpse
Before I became a rogue
My flesh was incorruptible
I was made of the
Finest bits of dust
And was clothed
By the whitest of linens
I soiled myself with
The dirtiest of passions
But that was then…
Somehow I managed
To pick the locks on its chains
A vagabond with
The most unclean name
I washed myself though…
With the water from His side
Then I became cleaner
Than I ever was


2
Beneath a hill
Of lustful uncertainty
I found my soul
The most precious gift
God has given me
With the command of His breath
I became a steward
Of His creation
I was wrapped in a body
Part of the package
Was a vulnerable brain
And an unquestioning heart
My soul got lost
In the confusion
Of the external world
I found it shivering instead
In a dark
Dank corner of my being
I have forgotten to ask
The Giver for strength
So I lived in fear and utter shame
But this time
I will reconcile myself
Reunite my flesh and spirit
As it was supposed to be
And hope that their unity
Would lead me to grace

Poverty Reduction Strategies of thee 2006 State of the Nation Address by GMA

Since time immemorial, the root-cause of poverty has been a resounding question for economists, sociologists and development scientists alike. It seems that there is no definite reason behind its existence, instead it arises from a chaotic and “untanglable” set of problems that have plagued different societies all over the world and have transcended across time. So, as an alternative to attacking the elusive crisis of poverty, technocrats and learned people devised differing strategies to address singly the others that are attached to it. It’s apparent that it is in light of this scenario that the president designs her own series of supposed solutions to poverty.
Let us start of with her banefully idealistic plans of modernizing infrastructure. Accordingly, the process of upgrading ports, roads and inter-provincial connections would hasten the transport of goods (and services) and thus would improve our economy. Farms will be connected to markets, international airports to various domestic airports and “rurban” areas to places where there would be a need for indispensable employment. A pretty picture of our economy slowly rising from the clasp of poverty is what every sane and sober Filipino would hope for. Personally I would have no qualms whatsoever with this massive shift to a modernized lifestyle; who wouldn’t want to live a life of convenience and less hassle? This would cut us all some technological slack, from the divide that has been present since other countries have launched their respective technological revolutions. But of course, this would open up opportunities for massive corruption. Concessions, construction funds and kickbacks galore!
In one of the more recent articles of Mr. Boo Chanco, he took note of the rapidly deteriorating condition of the MRT3. By 2010 (which is not a long way from now) the metro’s transit will have been worn out beyond regret. If the state of our existing technologies is like this, additional facilities would be less efficient and worthwhile. Also, our country has sought the aid of Austria to donate train coaches to replace the one’s that we have which turned out to be incompatible because the doors wouldn’t open because of the raised platform and has heater instead of air conditioners (good luck!). How then would we expect the construction of new technologies if we do not even have the funds to maintain the existing ones?
Another point to be noticed is how GMA targets to “phase out” and erase all traces of corruption in the bureaucracy. So grand a dream and so noble a cause and yet what moonshine it is! Just recently one of the major broadsheets in circulation had an editorial cartoon of the brother of Imelda Marcos evading the PCGG. Past cases of corruption have not been resolved, what more the present. As much as I’d like to take in the congratulatory comment that the president made; na ang mga pulis at kawal ay tapat… all I can say is that: Gloria, commute with me and lets see how the traffic enforcers of Quiapo turn into walang pakundangang mga buwaya! If the president sincerely wants to eradicate corruption she should do an all-out vertical and horizontal disciplining of her people. It is true that corruption is strongly linked to poverty, people don’t get social services and jeepney drivers have less to feed on, it has to be eradicated.
Yet another point in the president’s agenda is to mobilize, upgrade and disseminate knowledge and technologies for productivity. I say that true productivity of the people would happen if they were amply educated. What will people do with roads extending here and there if they can’t read instructions? What will people do with economic statistics and percentages if they do not even know how to count. It’s incomprehensible, why the president did not give ample space in her lengthy speech to talk about prioritizing education when she had the time to gracefully spit out numerous names of people. She is an economist, she should know! It’s rather shameful on her part (or on the part of her famous/infamous panel of advisers) that in her educated and learned stature she doesn’t know that education is part of what the people want and actually need to make them self reliant in their struggle to win against indigence.
There are actually a lot of points to pick up in her lengthy SONA, a lot to be discussed and to debate about. “Bickering in politics may delay, but not derail the initiatives that need to be taken on our pro-poor, pro-growth and pro-peace agenda.” In this single statement itself there are a lot of questions, disparities and controversies to be resolved. Perhaps the current administration is right at touching on some of the “untanglable” strings that cause poverty instead of wasting precious time trying to attack it directly. But the strategies to solve these said issues are either lacking in priority or down right incompatible with the reigning system. I am a pragmatist and struggling idealist, like most other Filipinos out there, there is nothing wrong in hoping for a better nation, but there is utmost wisdom in at the least hoping for a better government.