Caustic Thoughts

Manila - The Gates of Hell

2013-05-25T13:51:00.000+08:00

Manila the Gates of Hell. From Mr. Lagasca's Facebook page.

I don’t like Dan Brown’s books. I once made the unwise decision of reading one. It left me feeling as if I had lost parts of my brain and my intelligence had been stolen. His writing style is bloated and repetitive and his logic is flawed. I vowed never to read any of his novels again for fear I would lose my ability to construct even simple sentences.

Recently however, despite my resolve to stay away from Brown’s mental junk food, I felt I had to read two pages of his new book, Inferno. If you haven’t heard the news yet, the current uproar among some residents of Manila is “sponsored” by Brown.

In Inferno, he described Manila as having,

“…six-hour traffic jams, suffocating pollution and a horrifying sex trade…”

He then placed his female protagonist in the midst of it all,

“All around her the wails of crying babies and the stench of human excrement hung in the air. I’ve run through the gates of hell.”

Tolentino's letter to Dan Brown

Naturally, it was only a matter of time before the Filipinos’ inability to take anything negative kicked in. Sure enough, no less than MMDA chief Francis Tolentino expressed in a letter to Brown that he was “greatly disappointed”, arguing that Manila was instead “an entry to heaven”.

I find both Brown’s and Tolentino’s metaphors faulty.

A gate is simply an entry way. If conditions are already awful at the gate, everything must be worse inside. In Manila, what can possibly be worse than what he described? Oh, I know. Perhaps being stuck in a car stuck in traffic with five people farting simultaneously is worse? How about the punishment of life imprisonment in Bilibid with mandatory eight-hour daily readings of Brown’s books?

Obviously though, Tolentino’s impression of Manila is more skewed. He needs his eyes, ears and nose checked. He must have lost his senses due to frequent exposure to the streets of Manila. If we were to redefine heaven according to Tolentino, it would be a lot like hell, only better perhaps because our twisted understanding of what is heavenly includes seeing a lot of people going to church and thinking reproductive health is sinful.

I’d like to think Manila is neither heaven nor hell. To me, it’s just the armpits of despair, needing truckloads of deodorant and political will to sanitize.

Regardless of what anyone thinks though, what’s more important is what we realize. Unless we see Manila for what it truly is, there’s no fixing it.

Standard Songs in Unstandard Times - Mark Bautista's The Sound of Love

2013-04-27T12:39:00.000+08:00

Standard songs are defined as masterpieces that are so popular, they have endured through time. Hereabouts though, the term conjures images of pomade, high waist pants, rheumatism, drunken grandfathers and retirement homes. There is no question that standard songs have some socio-cultural value, but hey, it’s not my fault that in my circle, people think it’s just a synonym for old.

When I heard that a local artist released an album of standards, I fell into contemplating the mysteries of the cosmos. Shouldn’t this artist with an old spirit have been born seven decades earlier?

Mark Bautista isn’t your tottering grandfather’s dentures dependent best friend. At thirty, he’s at the prime of his youth and in the age of YouTube where some of the more popular fare include an impertinent man who dances like a horse, a possessed diva who keeps on forgetting to wear pants and a misguided young boy who repeats four lines of lyrics indefinitely as if he’d forgotten the rest of the lyrics of his hit song, shouldn’t Mark be pandering to the desires of the masses?

But therein lies his appeal. I’m going to buy his album and it’ll be among the few oddities in my otherwise angst-ridden music collection because I like supporting artists who have the courage to take the risk to stay true to their spirit regardless of what the times say they should do.

Of course, that’s not the only reason I’m buying The Sound of Love. Mark’s ethereal voice is the perfect cure for all sorts of mental maladies such as, but not limited to, seeing dead people, hearing voices and imagining being stuck forever in the pits of workstation (a.k.a. cubicle) hell.

Mark’s voice is better than Prozac, Valium and San Miguel Beer.

Album song list:

When I Fall in Love
Strangers in the Night
Kailangan Kita
All the Way
Love Without Time
Bato sa Buhangin
Love Story
That’s All
Till
What a Wonderful World

Elections 2013 Senatorial Candidates - Easy on Substance, Heavy on Fluff

2013-04-04T17:38:00.000+08:00

Political ads are like cotton candy, sweet, colorful fluff with very little substance and nutritional value. Sadly, for time poor virtual workers like me, that, and the candidates’ ability to dance like uncoordinated quadruped sticks during sorties are almost all the criteria I have to pick who to vote.

Think about it. If voters didn’t take the extra time to research, what they’d know of each candidate based on TV ads and bits and pieces of sensationalized news isn’t very encouraging.

facebook.com/jackenrile

1. Jack Enrile

Son of incumbent senator Juan Ponce “I’ve-been-ambushed” Enrile, Jack now also goes by the nickname “I’ve-been-ambushed-too-really”. Like father like son.

Notwithstanding the bullet holes, what really stands out with Jack is his campaign slogan. Translated in English: Cheap food. Lots of food. I want you to have food. I wonder if his copywriter was experiencing extreme hunger pangs when he wrote this.

twitter.com/jvejercito

2. JV Ejercito

What’s with the sign JV? His logo of three extended fingers that accompanies the slogan “Like Ko Yan” (I like that) looks a lot like arthritic claws and nothing like a Like sign. Its mysterious significance is something even Sherlock Holmes will probably never fathom.

twitter.com/nancybinay

3. Nancy Binay

The vice president’s daughter’s work experience can be summarized in a phrase - personal assistant to her father. Oh and she knows how to feed poor kids too. Nuff said.

cynthiavillar.com.ph

4. Cynthia Villar

Villar’s PR team churned out excellent campaign ads that connected with me despite Villar’s dispassionate speech about her passion in life, but in one fell swoop, she nearly demolished her team’s efforts by belittling the nursing profession. She implied it was alright for substandard nursing schools to continue operating because, “Nurses… don’t need to finish BS Nursing. These nurses want to become room nurses… They don’t need to be that good.”

Her PR team should have been part of the audience when she said this on national television. They could have made Villar read their lips for the right thing to say.

teddycasino.org

5. Teddy Casino

He used to be known as the outspoken activist and champion of the marginalized. Since his senate bid started however, I seem to associate him more with jogging in the rain. A little hair flip and he’d qualify to audition for the senior edition of Boys Over Flowers. Honestly though, his wet look is mildly unsettling. He looks more like a sick puppy than Lee Min-ho.

jambymadrigal.com

6. Jamby Madrigal

She says she’s the champion of the poor too and is anti corruption but having been born with multiple silver spoons, she has no sob stories to tell. To make up for that, her ad shows her standing wet after having been hosed by a water canon during a protest against then President Arroyo. Her wet look actually looks better than Teddy’s.

twitter.com/Aksyon_Gordon

7. Richard Gordon

This guy’s got more going for him because of the work he’s done for Subic and the Red Cross but really, do we need another wet senatorial candidate picture? Really, what is it with senatorial candidates and the wet look? There must be a study somewhere proving that voters are more likely to vote for the wettest of them all.

kokopimentel.org

8. Koko Pimentel

So far as I’ve seen, all this fellow Cagayanon has is his father’s name and the story of how he got cheated out of a senate seat in the 2007 elections. He uses a zombie pig (scarier than Kris Aquino on a tantrum) in his TV ad and asks us voters to use our coconuts. Hmmm. Okay, I’m voting for Zubiri.

twitter.com/EdwardHagedorn

9. Edward Hagedorn

Hagedorn has an impressive track record as the mayor of Puerto Princesa and is largely responsible for making the city known globally for its cleanliness, orderliness and eco tourism. With all that he has to boast about though, all I’ve seen so far are images of him on motorcades surrounded by beautiful girls, like some sort of playboy Captain Planet.

This list is incomplete because my tolerance for inanity has limits. Let’s just hope these candidates perform better in office than they do in campaign ads and events.

Senator Chiz Escudero and Grace Poe in Cagayan de Oro

2013-03-13T15:53:00.000+08:00

The elections are upon us. Who are you gonna call? By all means call the Ghostbusters and maybe some exorcists. Politicians have once again become possessed by such powerful spirits that they have begun dancing out of step and singing out of tune in campaign sorties.

I'd like to believe Filipino voters are intelligent enough to deserve more than the sing and dance routine and the flatulent rhetoric. That's why I appreciate candidates like Senator Escudero and Grace Poe who sat down with the Cagayan de Oro new and traditional media to answer questions. While I do not wholly agree with everything they said, their press conference beats having to document proof of candidates' lack of talent in the performing arts.

The encounter was not without its entertainment value. Escudero and Poe brought with them a treasure trove of intriguing bits from the capital, the senate and the campaign trail. Watch all 21 clips from the playlist above and you'll find out:

Why Jack's beans grow faster and better than Philippine rice
Whatever happened to UNA
Why their faces are plastered in all the wrong places
Why Poe isn't using her neighbor's name
What Da King's daughter can and will do as a senator
What Escudero thinks is better than singing and dancing
Why Escudero will make one hot vampire er... I meant... what he thinks about being listed among the (un)dead (Team Patay)

Let it be known that I do not exclusively endorse these two candidates. I'll shoot any candidate('s video) if he wants to sit down for a chat with the local media too.

The Comfort of Classical Music

2013-02-23T12:19:00.000+08:00

My brother and sister are classically trained musicians. I grew up in a house where I spent weekends curled up on a couch constipated over Dostoyevsky and Chekov as I listened to my sister shake the ear wax out of our neighbors with relentless strains of Tchaikovsky and Chopin. When she left, my brother took up the viola and resumed the neighbors’ mandatory classical music education. Even when I wasn’t at home, I heard them play when I hung out at their music schools or attended their performances.

My distress was understandable then when I moved to Cagayan de Oro nearly a decade ago and discovered the absence of my usual auditory comforts. There were no public performances of classical music then. There was only the perennial videoke.

The videoke, by the way, is an excellent machine when in the hands of superb vocalists like my father-in-law. It becomes a tool of torment however, when entrusted to screaming banshees intent on letting us personally inspect their tonsils while singing in keys that have yet to be identified. I would vote for any senatorial candidate who promises to draft a law making prolonged singing by people without talent a crime.

The classical concert scene eventually crept into Cagayan de Oro with the inauguration of the Rodelsa Hall in 2005. The problem is that it costs an arm, a leg and some internal organs to get tickets to a show.

I had to crack open a piggy bank to get tickets and clothes to watch the Cebu Philharmonic Orchestra, the UUU Orchestra (Japan) and Rudolf Pelaez Golez perform at the Rodelsa Hall last Saturday. I had to watch. Some of the musicians were members of the same orchestra my brother played in before he left Cebu.

More than the music (which was superb), what I was after was the comfort of memories, of my lazy days on a couch listening to the work of musicians who suffered from depression while reading depressing literature. Strangely, I count those as happy times.

I wonder if the music meant anything to the rest of the audience. Except for the infernal sound of Cherry Mobile in between pieces, the audience was incredibly polite and gave the performers a standing ovation. But were they being more than polite?

When more pressing concerns such as hunger, poverty and security have been significantly addressed, my hope for Cagayanons is that we’ll find meaning in classical music if only because its true value lies in its ability to comfort, elevate and liberate the human mind and spirit.

Red Dawn 2012 Remake Movie Review

2013-01-26T13:17:00.001+08:00

Red Dawn is proof that Americans can make really awful movies too and they don't even need a washed up senator (like we do) in boots and a leather tunic to top bill. They're perfectly capable of crafting awfulness with legitimate Hollywood actors.

There is no redeeming value to it. I realized that the moment North Korean soldiers dropped from the sky like giant snowflakes of aggression. In good fiction, there is such a thing as an element of plausibility within a story's contextual boundaries. Red Dawn does not pretend to posses such an element. We are forced to believe that the enemy is able to cripple the systems of what would be modern day America, enough to render their lightning attack undetected.

The movie is a remake of a 1984 hit, but the original paints a far more believable story, placing events in the context of crumbling international relations and global political unrest. North Korea may seem like a logical choice for the adaptation's antagonist but there is little to suggest that the rest of the world was so engrossed watching Lady Gaga split her pants that no one suspected what was going to happen.

The threat of real world North Korea is slightly more believable and disturbing. They've already said that if they were to attack America, it would be with long range nuclear missiles, not paratroopers in flying lanterns.

The forced conflict is not the only loose screw in the story. There's also the grating drama between lead characters, the Eckert brothers. We were required to often pause between action scenes to watch one brother or the other stare into space and brood over the past while it was the other brother's turn to flex his jaw muscles and look teary-eyed. If they were aiming to tug at my heartstrings, they missed it by a few inches and tugged at my gallbladder instead.

Then there's the sad casting of Josh Hutcherson. Just because he convincingly portrayed a wimp in The Hunger Games does not mean he should now have monopoly over all wimpy characters. Poor Josh. I can imagine him now in his old age accepting a lifetime achievement award for consistently portraying wimps.

I suppose the only one we can forgive for being in this movie is Chris Hemsworth and that's just because he's cool as Thor.

Much Ado in December 2012

2013-01-05T09:31:00.000+08:00

The Sin Tax Law will make alcoholic drinks so expensive in the years to come that some are already considering shockingly desperate alternatives.

I can no longer write year enders. My ongoing foray into the harrowing world of earning a living and trying to make ends meet has considerably shrunk my mental storage system into the size of a dehydrated pea. I can now only write about immediate or devastating incidents. Here's my top seven events of December 2012 in the Philippines.

#7 - End of the World

Of course it didn't happen, which makes it devastating for those who fanatically preached repentance and preparation. Don't worry. There's another end of the world slated for February 2013 so the public can panic some more and Hollywood producers can create another scientifically inaccurate doomsday movie.

By the way, didn't we all get the memo? God says only He knows when. Except of course if you're the leader of a secretive nation that may be manufacturing weapons of mass destruction, in which case, you'd know the approximate time.

#6 - Sin Tax Law Implementation

I saw people cry on New Year's eve, not because they were moved by their resolutions to live better lives, but because this year, alcohol and tabacco products will be more expensive. Some will have to learn to drink in more refined ways: tea, coffee or juice with drops of brandy or vodka in tiny porcelain cups. Sadly, that won't be enough. The streets will be filled with seemingly rabid humans experiencing withdrawal symptoms.

#5 - Reproductive Health Bill Signed into Law

We argued over whether or not it was an act of mass murder to use latex to hamper the passage of sperm cells, and whether or not the government had done its best to populate the country's mountains and forests to curb urban overpopulation. The issue eventually zeroed in on the role of women. Some lobbied to allow us to perform our natural duty as baby factories until menoupause or death, whichever comes first, but then they lost by a slim margin.

Enrile vs. Santiago. A gift of boxing gloves for Christmas would have made the difference.

#4 - Pacquiao's Defeat by Marquez

A stunned nation watched Pacquiao sleeping on the job for the first time. Needless to say, it was so shocking that it gave birth to fistfights of other sorts: Mommy Dionisia vs. Christians of other denominations and Justine Bieber vs. anti Bieber congressmen. It has yet to be determined who has less tact and refinement, Mommy D or Bieber.

#3 - Ms. Universe runner up Janine Tugonon

In a country where beauty pageants and rocket science are synonyms, Janine's near win became yet again another event to analyze the crap out of. I'm sure there is now a 500-page official report on why we lost again. Really though, in this modern day and age, shouldn't pageants already be banned like the Inquisition?

#2 - Hundreds Injured in Holiday Revelry

This year, more than 700 have been injured by firecrackers. At least two children have died after being hit by stray bullets. Not funny. I feel now more than ever that every city needs a Mayor Duterte of sorts.

#1 - Pablo's Wrath

The typhoon that struck Mindanao this year claimed hundreds of lives. While it certainly is noteworthy to suspend criticism to give way to relief efforts, it's vital to resume critical evaluation at some point. Over and above preparatory steps, shouldn't we now be moving towards preventive and adaptive measures?

The tail end of the year had a sorrowful pallor to it which has blunted my humor pen. Here's hoping there'll be more to laugh about in 2013.

Wannabe Travel Host's Indahag-Mapawa River Trek

2012-12-05T14:36:00.001+08:00

As a teen, I always wanted to be the host of a travel or history show. Sadly, I was blessed with such generous amounts of vertical insignificance (in other words, I was/am short) and frightful facial features that can scare even rabid dogs into sanity that my dream became as likely as life on Pluto.

Aspiring TV personalities of today are more fortunate because society has become more tolerant of hosts who can't fit into Ms. Universe bikinis. As long as you've got something else going for you in place of a beauty queen's famished look, like, let's say, brains, charm and one heck of a marketing team to counteract your dorkiness, then there's a chance you'll find your audience.

Also, there's YouTube. Every Tom, Dick, Harry and his dog has a channel. It has become fashionable to conspicuously display one's talent, expertise or foolishness in full color HD.

So I suppose I still have a shot. So here's my first video of my Indahag-Mapawa River Trek to Mintugsok Falls with the Cagayan de Oro Bloggers. This doesn't quite count as a hosting stint though because you won't actually see or hear me talk. I was so busy with the act of self-preservation (i.e. hanging for dear life from near vertical mountain edges and navigating slippery boulders with my ass) that I couldn't shoot any speaking parts.

In any case, you'll see in white text what I would have said if I actually hosted an episode of my travel show.

UN Day Celebration and Ruffled Feathers

2012-11-17T10:58:00.002+08:00

RIP peacock. May you rest in peace. (photo source)

Do peacocks die if all their tail feathers get pulled out? I guess not, but I can imagine them dying of shame. I only ask because last month, during the UN Day celebration, I saw a child strut on stage wearing a peacock costume so big it could blot out the sun.

I don't make fun of other countries' national costumes, even those so poorly reconstructed they deserve to be petitioned, but I feel I need to throw darts at this one and it's not just because some departed peacock's spirit is now weeping over his bare bum.

Because national costumes cost so much, I'd have to sell an arm, a leg and all my internal organs to get a new one made. My daughter was Ms. Panama two years ago so I told her she'd be Ms. Panama this year and every year thereafter until the costume no longer fits.

To my dismay, one parent, who'd been pushing her daughter to compete against mine since last year, made her daughter wear the dearly departed peacock's feathers and a Panama sash too even if the kid was supposed to be Ms. Costa Rica. Her costume was so big and shiny that not even Ms. Zimbabwe who skinned a chicken for her headdress could hold a candle to her. Of course the judges couldn't tell the difference between a national costume and a national disaster so she won the contest.

My daughter is no spoil sport and would have been happy for her classmate if she didn't feel like her country was stolen from her. The offending parent's story is that she made a mistake and thought it was Costa Rica's costume she had made.

I didn't know that if you searched for Costa Rica on Google they'd serve you results for Panama. If that were indeed the case, someone should tell Google they missed Costa Rica by a few kilometers.

Come on, I work online for a living. I use Google everyday and although it's possible for irrelevant results to show for a search term, there is no way anyone can confuse one country with another unless the searcher has a reading disorder that'd make her read Panama as Costa Rica.

My kid soldiered through the event as if nothing had happened but on the ride home, she put her head on my lap. When she sat back up again, her cheek was wet. Unless my thighs were sweating through my jeans, I'd bet a million feathers those were tears.

I was crushed and for the first time in years, Google couldn't tell me what to do next. My pal Irene says I should make sashes for every country plus Ms. Lost Atlantis and Ms. Bemuda Triangle sashes and sashes for every known planet, give it to the other girl and declare her the queen of the universe in perpetuity. I suppose though that the insult would be lost on the mother who, if she says she doesn't even have the sense to use Google properly, probably won't be able to understand the sarcastic gesture.

I settled instead for a chat with my daughter over chocolate ice cream, explaining to her why winning isn't worth it if you have to step on others.

Chiz Escudero with the Cagayan de Oro Bloggers and Traditional Media

2012-11-04T15:08:00.001+08:00

Type Senator Chiz Escudero's name into Google's search field and you'll see search auto suggestions that revolve around topics that have nothing to do with his job.

I'm not a search algorithm expert and I hope I'm wrong but these auto options could imply that Google is suggesting them because there are more Filipinos interested in the state of his love life than the state of the nation.

This isn't the first time a politician's private life has generated more attention than his actual performance or his stand on national issues. That makes me think that what truly determine if a politician has a high chance of winning the elections are:

his civil status (in a relationship/single/it's complicated)
his ability to sing and dance
his dermatological condition
the number of tarpaulins that carry his digitally enhanced face

Of course as members of the Cagayan de Oro new and traditional media, we had to do better than ask him about his girlfriend, his skin care secrets and the color of his pajamas when he sleeps at night.

The resulting video is a little long but it's well worth watching if you care to find out if the Philippines is likely to crash and burn next year. Among some of the issues he addressed are:

ammending the Cybercrime Act of 2012
the Bangsamoro Agreement
seeking to prevent government officials from painting their faces, names and mustaches on public property
why it's not a good idea to have a Freedom of Information law now
political allegiances and how they determine fund allocation
why some laws have slept and hardened like cooking oil (natutulog na mantika?)
hospitals so bereft of life saving supplies and facilities, they should start offering funeral plans instead
why lawmakers are still in labor over the RH Bill after 7 congresses

After hearing Escudero speak, will you still vote for him come elections 2013?

Waiting for the Postman

2012-10-22T17:27:00.000+08:00

Ploning has been waiting and waiting and waiting...

What has Ploning been waiting ages for?

a. the love of her life who will never return
b. the end of the world
c. politicians' promises to come true
d. mail from the Philippine post office

If you're familiar with the story of Ploning, you know the answer is letter "a". I feel a lot like her except that I've been waiting for the postman instead. There's nothing special about the dude. I just want to get the training DVD package I've been waiting for for two years.

I'm not the only one with postal service issues. One of my friends who applied for the Ateneo graduate school got his letter of acceptance three months too late, while a relative never got jewelry sent by her fiance.

Letters and packages seem to get lost so often in the post office that if Tinkerbell, who collects lost things, were to visit Philippine shores, she'd probably find an abundance of lost mail and packages.

Tinkerbell in search of lost Philippine packages.

I suppose it was much worse in the past. Wasn't there an urban legend once (used to scare truant children) of otherworldly creatures that frequent mail rooms? These beings looked a lot like post office employees too except that they had claws to slash through envelopes and hooked noses to sniff for freshly minted dollars. Interestingly, they had an abundant supply of scotch tape for repairing slash marks.

People were once so scared of these creatures that relatives abroad devised greeting cards with secret pockets to cleverly store and prevent the loss of green money. Harry Potter couldn't have devised a better spell for mail protection.

Real or perceived issues with the postal service aren't helping to preserve an institution already threatened by Internet technology. I dare say post office personnel have helped place themselves on the list of endangered species right next to the Philippine Eagle and sea turtles.

Next time someone wants to send me anything I'd be sure to suggest that he send it through special courier.

Cybercrime Prevention Act of 2012 - Batas Horibilis?

2012-10-03T16:06:00.000+08:00

Image from We Support A******** Facebook page

The Cybercrime Prevention Act of 2012 is upon us. I guess I can only make fun of myself now, but there is a limit to the number jokes I can make about my cellulite. I, who thrive on sarcasm, have become severely handicapped now that I do not have the option to throw jibes at seemingly lobotomized politicians.

The part on online libel is so scary, it makes Freddy Kreuger look like a friendly burger chain mascot. It is Batas horibilis at its best:

You can be sued for libel even if you merely imply that an individual, dead or alive, has a real or imaginary defect. This part is so broad you might as well be sued for saying bad things about the man on the moon.

The Act references a libel law so old, it's original authors have already decomposed. Eighty years ago, they could not have imagined that toilets in the future would have auto flush much less conceived the free-wheeling nature of the internet.

The mere act of joking about a person can get you in hot water even if there is no malicious intent. I bet the next bill our senators will file will propose striking out the word "joke" from the dictionary.

Law enforcers can seize computer data even without a court order at the mere suspicion of your having violated the law. Think action movies where cops burst upon unsuspecting culprits. Why don't you plaster your face on one of those characters to see what you'd look like in a similar situation so you can plan the perfect hair and makeup before a televised raid.

You can go to prison for a maximum of 12 years and pay a fine of up to 1 million pesos. Good luck. Philippine prisons are meant to give people a preview of what hell is like.

With the passage of the law, I can envision several scenarios unfolding:

Millions of Filipinos will be found guilty of libel. Prisons will be so congested it'll be standing room only. A friend of mine, JL, says this might be the government's secret strategy for population control. He may have a point. After all, when one inmate farts in a cell of hundreds, quite a handful will pass out. I see the beginning of modern gas chambers.

To evade capture, Filipinos will invent a new language for Facebook use only to add to the hundreds of dialects our people already have. It'll be based loosely on beki speak and jeje speak and will be indecipherable unless law enforecers are former bekis and jejemons.

Virtual invisible ink will be invented. Either that or social media users will just have to learn to communicate meaningfully with ***** and %#@!/*.

The only images that'll be shared on Facebook moving forward will be pictures of babies, pets, food and grandmothers knitting. These will be interspersed with emo posts from hopeless lovers pouring their guts out and mixing them with molasses.

There will be a mass exodus to Cebu where the naturally fun loving Filipinos prefer to be incarcerated. My blogger pal RR says that's where she'd like to go to become part of the Cebu Dancing Inmates, who at least are allowed some form of fun in jail.

What makes everything doubly sad is that some of our senators apparently signed the bill without reading the revised version in full.

Here's hoping they move quickly to amend. In the meantime, let's all pray they have special jail cells for bloggers, posters, likers and tweeters.

On The Expendables 2 and Meeting Expectations

2012-09-10T09:57:00.000+08:00

This was this year's best movie for non-thinkers with a story fueled entirely by guns, knives, mixed martial arts and heavy foreign accents. The movie's plot you could very well write on a square piece of tissue paper with a drop of your own blood, but nobody cared. No one came to the movie house to think. They came to see all those big names together. I did too.

Sly Stallone figured that out of course, long before he drafted the story on his shred of tissue. Really though, he should have just called the movie The Reunion or The Predictable or even The Arthritis Club. None of the big names were truly expendable (except for Jet Li whose character, to my dismay was thrown out of a plane ten minutes through the movie) and you knew even before the first scene what to expect from the story and the actors.


Starring Barney, er... I meant Stallone.

Because Stallone said so, his was the role of the reluctant hero even if the slick Jason Statham could have acted his way through the role better. Heck, a bag of potatoes could've done better than Stallone. If I died and Stallone gave me the same eulogy he gave to his slain comrade, I'd have gotten up from the grave and laughed.

Not even his action moves could save him. Stallone's character is incidentally named Barney and when he does a barrel roll, what comes to mind is not macho Rambo but his purple/fuchsia/magenta dinosaur namesake rolling while suffering from arthritis.

He was surpassed only by Dolph Lundgren as a purveyor of the “stoned” expression, but Lundgren I can excuse if only because a man who looks prehistoric but has a degree in chemical engineering deserves respect.

Liam Hemsworth was the dead good guy. As soon as he started telling his sob story and his dreams of a better life, you knew there was already an advance party sent to the hills to dig him a nice grave.

What's-her-name-with-the-irritating-tendency-to-tilt-her-head-to-the-direction-of-her-sideways-split-hair was the obvious token love interest. What you probably didn't anticipate was the distance you'd be able to hurl your lunch with that suggestion. I can accept Sly's aspirations of becoming a geriatric action star but he is no Hugh Hefner.

Chuck Norris was perhaps the only oddity on set. Could he have been placed there merely to showcase his antiquated facial hair? I can't explain why but he made me think of wild ducks. That's probably because his thick, perfectly combed beard probably looks more fitting on animals in the wild that need it to survive.

Poor duck. Oh why when I see Norris I think of thee? (Mallard Duck by FinlayCox143)

The one thing I wanted that wasn't there were Van Damme's trademark split legs. Then again, at his age, such a stunt could only land him in the infirmary.

We got exactly what we knew we'd get and I bet we'd go for a third ride if there was one but Schwarzenegger's reference to retirement at the end of the movie is appropriate advice. The grandfathers of action deserve to enjoy the remaining years of their lives without broken bones.

Fruit Shakes and Fries with Aurora Representative Sonny Angara

2012-09-05T18:18:00.000+08:00

Government officials are guilty until proven innocent. That is the inherent difficulty of working for the public. People assume there is some impropriety going on, like public funds being appropriated for the upkeep of ten wives or, in the case of a certain district representative of the City of Purple Structures, the purchase of the services of a foreign beauty whose job is to convince constituents that her man doesn't live in a closet wearing a tutu, only a tutu (this is a blind item in case you're wondering).

So how do elected officials and representatives prove their innocence or at least create positive images for themselves?

They have a couple of time and tested options:

a. Die an early and tragic death so their political party mates can belatedly lionize them thereby exposing all their good deeds.

b. Find space to plaster their diamond-toned faces in tarpaulins for every birthday, christening and fiesta in town so people can confuse their visibility with actual work accomplished.

c. Kiss babies.

d. Dance to Nikki Minaj's latest blasphemy, despite being grandfatherly and having four left feet, during election campaigns so people can confuse looking stupid in public with concern for public welfare.

But all they really should be doing is to sit and talk. There's nothing like a casual chat to reveal if a politician has sense and if he has his own opinions about things that matter rather than relying on speech writers to supply them copied words from well written blog content and Wikipedia articles.

Enter the subject of our video above, first term Aurora Representative Juan Edgardo "Sonny" M. Angara who graciously sat with a group of bloggers and gave his opinion on matters ranging from the RH Bill to the definition of love, which, in the heady mixture of fruit shakes and fries morphed into defining Mar Roxas.

Of course, it's impossible to completely measure a man through just one conversation but this beats having to determine how worthy he is by virtue of a digitally enhanced tarpaulin or his dancing skills.

If you want to find out more about Sonny Angara and his achievements, refer to Google. There's enough there about who he is and what he's done, but if you want to really hear him speak, watch the video. If he ran for senate next year, would you vote for him?

Rep. Sonny Angara with bloggers. Photo by Ding.

Where Can We Find Another Jesse Robredo?

2012-08-22T15:14:00.001+08:00

Screenshot of Robredo tribute page - gov.ph/salamatjesse/

The problem with spineless people is that they have no feelings from the ego down. It is therefore a matter of national interest that before we elect a candidate into public office, we should take the time to determine if he has two essential body parts, a spine and balls.

In a country where government officials are anatomically challenged, the death of DILG Secretary Jesse Robredo is a great loss. I do not know the man personally and cannot offer firsthand testimony, but from everything else that's written about him, you will find a simple man who did not cheat, steal (public funds or the work of bloggers to fill his speaches:P) or misuse tax money. The stories will reveal too that he quiety loved his country, eschewing fanfare as he labored to ensure transparency, encourage people participation and promote a system of productivity in government.

We only have to look at Naga City, a former third class city that has Robredo to thank for its elevation into first class to understand his value. As its mayor at the age of 29, he worked to streamline internal systems, demolish illegal businesses and eliminate the culture of indolence in government offices. When we look at what he has accomplished, we can only weep at this other mayor whose most astounding achievement is to come out of the closet in his pink slippers.

Robredo was only beginning to work his skillful hands in the DILG when he was taken away. In the words of Lourd de Veyra, who did not publicly attribute this statement to anyone in particular but is fitting to this tragedy anyway, "Bakit ganun? Kung sino pa ang mga kupal, sila pa ang nagtatagal sa mundo-- at may pambayad pa ng stem cell treatment." (Why is it that it's the as*ho*** who live long -- and can even afford stem cell treatment?)

But there must have been some good in this tragedy. Prior to his death, people in my circles didn't know who he was. Now that his life has been told in public, we all know what he did for the country.

Where can we find another Jesse Robredo?

Perhaps there are some 29-year old would be mayors out there who have been so enthralled by the secretary's story that they will have started growing the appropriate body parts ideal for public service.

Metro Manila Floods Again - What You Can Do After

2012-08-14T21:12:00.000+08:00

Mordor? Metro Manila in a state of calamity. -Photo from Louieda Oviedo

Last week, NASA’s rover Curiosity finally confirmed that Mars is a barren, desolate land with a surplus of rocks and no green men to recruit to play the Martian Manhunter in the movie adaptation of the Justice League. They had to spend billions of dollars to confirm that because scientists had reason to believe the Martians could really be hiding behind boulders knitting mittens.

In other news on Earth, it has also been confirmed that the Olympics was really just the U.S. vs. China with Usain Bolt as special guest. The final word was, “China you cannot have London too,” as the U.S. topped the medals race.

In the Philippines, people hardly paid attention to these events. We were all glued to Metro Manila and its neighboring provinces. Forget Atlantis. Metro Manila’s cities were so flooded they were almost eligible for underwater exploration.

If the Bourne Legacy production filmed last week instead of months ago, they would have had to change the title to Bourne Underwater and Aaron Cross would not have just been virally enhanced but bacterially enhanced as well with Leptospira.

I can afford to make fun now probably because shortly after the news broke, photos of the happy Filipino, flashing pearly whites and yellows, started filtering through social networks faster than instant noodles cooking. There were kids diving, men drinking, couples getting hitched and people just banding together to help amidst all the water.

So I knew the Filipino would get up yet again and get on with life as if floods were the most common thing in life. The Filipino spirit has even proven to be contagious, with foreign nationals taking to the streets, er… urban rivers to take a dip with the locals.

Pinoy: Do you think it’s safe sir?
Aussie: Ah.. No.

He goes on and takes a splash anyway with a bunch of Pinoy kids.

The Filipino’s ability to grab calamity by the throat and whack the devastation out of it is undoubtedly admirable, but it’s important to ask: How long before the next great flood? How long before we swim, laugh and pack relief goods again? Do you honestly want another chance to look adversity in the eye and spit at it?

What about the cesspool of poverty, corruption and ignorance brewing underneath all the water? Those will rear their ugly heads again too the next time this happens.

We can’t change how our country’s systems work now but why don’t we start by knocking some sense into ourselves so we can pass some sense onto our kids and the people we can influence.

Here are four action steps for you to start with:

Stop throwing trash like you had massive eye boogers that keep you from seeing trash bins. No fairies will magically appear and pick up after you.
Educate yourself so you’ll understand that these floods aren’t from God. They’re the result of the stupidity of human beings.
Strive to prosper. It is not okay to wait for Noynoy in blue leotards and a red cape to rescue you from under the bridge or the minimum wage.
Do not vote for the sardines you see below and their cousins in tarpaulins. They will keep people poor following the principles of patronage politics.

Want politicians in tomato sauce? -Photo from Dr. John Ortiz Teope's page

Teach your kids these action points and pass it on to others. This is how you groom future citizens who will have the heart to fix our waterlogged cities.

Lie to Me Korean Drama Review

2012-07-31T19:25:00.000+08:00

I'm guilty. I watched this drama. Feel free to disown me now.

I disappeared for a week to watch sixteen episodes of a Korean romantic comedy. I needed a shot of feel good nonsense to deal with life. Now my family will disown me. Telenovelas are a crime here.

Of course I’ve seen bits and pieces of telenovelas before. In this drama obsessed country, they’re unavoidable. Remember the time when those flower boys, who had smoother armpits than real females, were on TV? They were so ever present that even the tattooed musclemen at the wet market secretly watched their show, but even then I did not watch in full. This series I’d watched recently was the first I’d completed.

My official excuse is that I was stressed out. I engage in so much mental weightlifting that I’m convinced my brain now has a six pack. I needed some form of therapy that didn’t have to make me think, hence, my venture into this Korean drama.

Lie to Me is the story of Gong Ah Jung, a civil servant who lies to her friends about being married. By some misunderstanding, it becomes widely circulated that she is married to the rich, stuck up business executive Hyun Ki Joon. The lie spirals out of control, turning their lives upside down.

In Korea, the story hit rock bottom ratings and some say it’s because of the implausibility of the plot. I’d argue though that viewers really look for the implausible. Otherwise, a show would approach real life so closely it’d have the appeal of a root canal. I dare say the secret to a series’ success is in the proper execution of the implausible.

This is where the series fails. Even the love story which is at the core of it all is forced upon our consciousness like Dionisia Pacquio in her latest gown disaster. The struggling civil servant and the snobbish executive are given little excuse to fall in love but we are required to accept it.

The rest of the characters and their relationships are equally underdeveloped, served uncooked to viewers, thereby causing some fair amount of food poisoning. To make matters worse, there is so much drinking going on that the show deserves the award for most characters under the influence of alcohol in a romantic comedy. It increasingly looked like the abundance of alcohol was a precursor to the crying parts. No alcohol, no crying.

Still, there must have been something in it to have made me watch up to the end. I must give the credit to Kang Ji Hwan (Ki Joon) and Yoon Eun Hye (Ah Jung). Ji Hwan is the anti thesis of the meek, feminine boys that are now taken as a standard for male beauty and yet he is smooth as silk himself. All of a sudden you realize that this is how you want your man to be, not some kid who’d gone gung-ho over his mom’s waxing kit.

If I were asked, “When did you realize you were female?” I’d say it was right when I discovered Kang Ji Hwan in Lie to Me. Prior to this I had no clue of my gender.

Eun Hye, though seemingly overpowered at times by the physically and emotionally charged Ji Hwan, is at her element and promptly makes short work of the comic relief that is her job to dispense like an old veteran.

Then there’s Jeju Island which they shamelessly exploit to set the mood for the perfect romantic close. The running from opposite directions to meet at the middle of a cliff overlooking the sea scene makes you want to hurl the writer (or director) over the cliff as a sacrificial offering to Poseidon, but Jeju ultimately tugs at your appetite for scenic beauty and before the credits roll, you’ve forgiven the writer.

But I would have forgiven the writer anyway even without Jeju Island because I know that the show’s primary goal is to entertain. If I wanted something more real, I would have just watched the six o’clock news.

Twenty Seconds of Chiz Escudero in Cagayan de Oro

2012-07-14T23:27:00.001+08:00

Where's Chiz? Can you help me find him? (Photo by Ding)

Last week I asked to be excused from work. I’m proud to say I told the truth and none of that “I’m sick” excuse, which is a dangerous excuse by the way. There’s always a chance you’ll slip and use an illness as an excuse twice, and of course, there’s Facebook, where pictures just have a way of getting around, especially bikini pictures.

Not that I was going to the beach in a bikini. The ample layer of organic insulation (a.k.a. fat) that has mysteriously accumulated around my torso will have made that a frightful sight. I took a leave from work because my blogger pal, Irene, arranged for the CDO Bloggers to meet Senator Chiz Escudero, an event more to my liking than a beach party actually.

We were reminded of course, to think of intelligent questions. To conserve the energy needed to generate intelligence, I simply typed “intelligent questions” on Google. First on its search results was a site in which the first intelligent question listed was, “You are participating in a race. You overtake the second person. What position are you in?”

I doubt if that would have impressed Escudero, so I simply recalled the usual saying Filipinos subscribe to when intelligence and perseverance fail, “Bahala na (The heck with it).”

Fortunately (or unfortunately) we weren’t given the chance to astound him with our mental acuity, or the lack thereof. We were told he’d be unable to keep his engagement with us due to a more pressing meeting in Davao but that we’d be allowed to at least see him in person if we hurried.

What followed was a handful of bloggers attempting to set the record for fastest bath in the rush to prepare to meet him. I’d hazard to say that some of us might have even considered the splashing of cologne as a quick bath.

In my case, all attempts to smell nice and look presentable were in vain. I had to tear through three locations to make it in time to see him. By the time he was within reach, I was coated with a thin film of sweat and lightly sprinkled with dust, a battered blogger ready for frying.

My fellow bloggers and I kept a little distance, perhaps afraid he’d smell us, but there was nothing polite about it. We stared at him (timidly of course) and if eyes could chew, he’d have been digested.

He smiled, said sorry for the cancelled meeting and promised to return for us.

Charming.

Someone coughed up the courage to say “picture” and in the blink of an eye, we smothered him. In all the eagerness, we didn’t even notice we nearly pushed him out of the picture as he craned his neck from behind. It was almost a photo opportunity with Escudero without Escudero and the final group shot was aptly captioned, “Where’s Chiz? Can you help me find him?”

We were treated to lunch with his staff, but after, there was no sense surmising on what he would have said about the divorce bill, election 2013, the territorial dispute with China, the selection of the new chief justice, K to 12 education and world peace. So we got ourselves drunk with coffee and shot a clip of two of our bloggers using the iTraylet instead.

Yes, this post is all drivel, totally lacking in depth and is veering towards nonsense but I had to write about the experience. After all, it was the highlight of my week, meeting a famous person who was the reason I finally got to park my normally overworked brain for a day and got some physical exercise for a change .

The next time Escudero drops by Cagayan de Oro, my brain will be back on duty and he better be ready for the full force of my intelligent questions.

Warts and Other Tales Featuring Lance Duggan

2012-07-02T15:55:00.003+08:00

Woe to the commercial model who becomes the face of warts removal.

Who the hell is Lance Duggan? I have no idea but after seeing his face on the Mendez Medical Group’s promotional poster, I had this sudden urge to search for his name online to find out if he really had warts.

If you were a commercial model, would you seriously volunteer to be a model for a warts removal service? That’s tantamount to admitting you have them. Your name will forever be associated with the condition and people will think of you when they think of warts.

Lance should change his name. “The name’s Duggan, Warts Duggan.”

I suspect though that Lance didn’t exactly jump up and down with hand raised to volunteer to be the face of the service. I suspect Mendez randomly picked whose face goes to which service. “Oh look here, Lance gets the warts.” I bet the other models breathed a collective sigh of relief.

While we’re on the topic of a cosmetic issue and its solution, I wonder how far I would go to fix a cosmetic issue.

You know how it is when you meet casual acquaintances. In my experience, after the mandatory peck on the cheek and the “Hi, how are yous” there is nothing left to talk about so the conversation invariably turns to how much larger I’ve become and how my skin tone has drastically changed.

I almost want to say, “Call me the ugly Hulk why dontcha?”

My main physical woes are my eye bags the size of Saturn and my bum the size of Jupiter. The dark rings I can easily hide with tinted glasses but no clothing, save for a mascot’s costume, can disguise my well-endowed behind. It’s gotten so out of hand that my little daughter says she gets suffocated when she’s behind me. I suppose if a hippo needed a bum double, I would qualify.

Manong pulis here can teach me how to exercise properly.

If I had the money, would I pay for a surgical procedure? Maybe, as long as they don’t make me the bum reduction model. Oh wait, there’s also this thing called exercise. I might try that first if I manage to extricate myself from my designated snack bench in front of Lance’s poster. I bet the policemen who'll be exercising at the park with me can teach me a thing or two about keeping fit through physical exertion.

If Only Kids Were Self-Developed

2012-06-14T18:36:00.000+08:00


Can human kids self-develop too?

After reading Arnel Pineda’s story, I concluded that nearly everyone has abilities they can use to become successful. Even young stars who sing in the key of O (as in Off) have the uncanny ability to send teens into fits of delirium with the judicious introduction of dimples in a chorus. But just when I decided to take a shot at fame and fortune, life throws a wrench into my plans.

My bid for success will have to wait because my two kids and their nanny got food poisoned. Faster than we could sing, “I ate that moldy piece of beef and I liked it,” their bodies attempt to flush out the toxins and then it’s me with a cleaning cloth versus an endless gush of bodily solids, liquids and gases.

I hadn't seen so many Xs since high school algebra.

It didn’t take long before we had to rush one kid to the hospital for rectal bleeding and severe dehydration. We were required to force both kids to consume so much medication that I hadn’t seen so many Xs (from the Rx) since high school algebra. Since then, my eye bags have begun to grow in layers as if the first layers gave birth to second layers and had grand kids, the third layers.

I now know that being a parent is THE full time job. Everything else from pursuing a career to brushing my teeth must be done on my free time. Even when the kids aren’t sick, it takes so much time, effort, patience and resources to take care of them and raise them right.

In my case, it's tempting to be a bad parent and resort to shortcut parenting. By that I mean:

*When my daughter asks for help with math problems involving numbers above ten
Response: Go ask your father.

*When my kid asks where babies come from
Response: The FedEx guy just leaves them in doorsteps.

*When my toddler is still having difficulty forming words
Solution: Turn on the TV and let him watch Justice League for hours until he can say Batman flawlessly.

*When the kids fight downstairs while I'm working upstairs
Solution: I scream to the top of my lungs, "What's going on?" Followed by, "Whatever that is, NO!"

*When kids get frightened by a gigantic prehistoric looking cockroach
Solution: Run to the hills and hope someone else kills it.

I suppose this was what our moms were trying to warn us about when they told us, “Don’t get married and have kids before you’re physically, mentally, emotionally and financially ready.”

But you know how messages get delivered between moms and their grownup children. Somewhere in the space between our mothers’ mouths and our ears, the warning not to have kids unprepared got translated to, “I’ll nag you every single day about this.” So we left and had kids of our own.

Kids aren't born self-developed like Prony from Bohol. All they come packaged with are extra doses of cuteness, but that kinda helps. Every time things get difficult I see how adorable and cute they are and somehow I lose the heart to go ballistic or use shortcut parenting.

Lessons from Arnel Pineda

2012-05-29T18:25:00.000+08:00

The courage to rock!

Growing up, I wanted to be a rock star. That was until I found out I was afflicted with such a chronic form of shyness that I could only really sing to inanimate objects like rocks, trees and a husband watching NBA.

Fine, I thought. I’d be happy to just be a bar singer instead, but I realized that compared to the existing talent pool, my voice sounds like the croaking of a frog with a sore throat and a blocked windpipe.

So I gave up on my dream, determined to make life bearable by looking forward to the breakfasts, lunches and dinners that are the main diversions to my endless workdays. I now only trawl YouTube on weekends for songs to sing when there’s no one within hearing range to cripple with my croaking.

It’s on one of these closet singing sessions that I first come across Arnel Pineda’s cover of Heart’s Alone, a song that elicits pity when brave but less gifted singers start to look like they’re about to spit out their tonsils or lose their sanity. As soon as Pineda flawlessly belts out the heart attack inducing wail, AAAAHHLLOOOWNNN… I’m a goner and what follows is two days of watching all his videos.

Of course I heard the news when he became Journey’s lead vocalist but other than rejoicing in his good fortune, I paid little attention. I WAS not a Journey fan. I once likened the experience of listening to their overplayed ballads to overdosing on hard cheese.

It’s only now that I learn of his story then: homeless and living on scraps at 13; singing in bars at 15; descending into vice and losing his voice at 27; rallying to patch up his life and attempting to start a career but giving up the dream at 40. Enter Neal Schon who finds his cover videos online and invites him for an audition. He gets the job.

Happily ever after? Not quite for this Cinderella in tight pants and leather boots on the other end of the gender spectrum. Listen to his interviews and you’ll realize this is no small feat.

A poor man from Manila gets plucked from obscurity and is thrust before rock demigods. Not long after that, he is made to sing before 18,000 live viewers for the first time, a figure that dramatically dwarfs his usual bar audience.

After this initial trial by fire, he repeatedly performs before thousands more, including unforgiving and vocal critics who cannot accept his presence in an all American band and that he is wearing the shoes of the legendary Steve Perry.

All of a sudden you realize that his life isn’t an invitation for everyone with a dream to upload videos of themselves singing (or hyperventilating) to Whitney Houston’s I Will Always Love You. It isn’t a suggestion that you “don’t stop believin’” you’ll eventually hit those notes if you squint your eyes just a little more.

The message is a lot simpler than that. Courage. Nothing will happen to your life if you do not have the foresight to recognize opportunity and the courage to go after it.

I’ll probably never be a rock star now but I have other talents besides inducing ear infections among my listeners. I resolve to have the courage to chase my happiness. I deserve to give myself a chance.

A Series of Unfortunate Events – Santiago, Barretto, Tulfo Airport Brawl

2012-05-14T20:43:00.000+08:00

Talk about unflattering angles.

Last week’s alarming news that Chinese ships were patrolling Scarborough (Panatag) Shoal was promptly eclipsed by the tussle that transpired over the airport floor. Instead of updates about the conflict with China, we were assaulted by replays of a rumble that had been shown in every conceivable angle, left, right, over and under.

The video of the scuffle had so often been repeated, I can now almost memorize the size of Claudine’s hips as they appeared on the clip. It was more than a mere fist fight, mind you. There were legs, feet and other body parts flying in violence everywhere, which probably explains its greater mass appeal over serious discussions about our diplomatic relations with China.

Like a record in perpetual loop, the story repeats itself in our heads. Cebu Pacific offloads the luggage of showbiz couple Claudine Barretto and Raymart Santiago. Barretto confronts ground staff and is photographed in the act by broadcaster Mon Tulfo. The couple face off with Tulfo and a fight ensues. The scene is so violent, it should have found its way into the final cut of the Hunger Games.

Santiago wraps his arm around Tulfo and we are treated to the sight of Barretto’s generous backside as she and her friend descend upon their prey to pound an all natural patch over his eye.

The series of unfortunate events don’t end there. Because of what happened, Santiago’s children are in a state of shock, the berated clerk is in a sad emotional state, security guards may lose their jobs and Tulfo’s broadcaster brothers were suspended over public threats against the couple.

At the end of it all, they’re all more traumatized than nuns in a Lady Gaga concert, so much so that they all now require counseling, probably including the executives of TV5 who have temporarily lost a show and 3 anchors.

Enter netizens who, since the birth of social media, now feel the urge to constantly display their knack for bad grammar, lack of breeding and abundant ignorance in the guise of exercising their right to their opinions --- “Tulfo s sach a jerk. Santiago must bows to his olders and Barretto should keep away from extra rice.”

My take in all this? Suspend judgment. You weren’t there. You didn’t see it. You weren’t involved and even if you were, there’s no telling if you’d act in a less disgraceful manner or if you’d look more videogenic than Barretto. We should all just donate some cash for the purchase of a CCTV camera for the airport.

While we were all glued to this drama by the way, did anyone notice that new Chinese flag flying over Panatag Shoal?

What K+12 Education in the Philippines Means to Me

2012-05-01T16:23:00.000+08:00

Teddy has to go to school with little Johnny

I was in my daughter's school last Friday when I came across a story more frightening than The Omen, The Exorcist or Anne Curtis' singing. I was told the Aquino administration is dead set on adding 2 more years to high school.

From all appearances, there's probably a greater chance of Aquino growing more hair than his changing his mind about this. Sadly, only beautiful women can say no to Aquino. His cabinet members and the entire nation must follow his bidding, or else thou shalt be impeached, fired or humiliated during public speeches. Our only comfort is in making fun of his sparsely adorned scalp. Hooray for Philippine democracy.

My brothers, sister and I each only completed 16 years of school but I remember my mom had to pay blood and sweat for every single year. She sold everything from sandwiches to magic beans to send us to school. If she could ride a unicycle she would have if someone paid her to do it.

I only have one kid in school now but every time I get the monthly school statement of accounts, my vision starts to dim, I go partially deaf, and I start speaking gibberish. My fellow parents and I call this the tuition fee syndrome.

It's not just the cost of sending kids to school that's the issue though. They've adjusted the recommended ages for the grade levels too. If kids should ideally be 5 years old when they graduate from Kinder 2, that means Kinder 1 kids should be 4 years old. Kids optionally sent to Nursery class for socialization and skills preparation have to be 3 years old. Toddler classes then will have to accept 1 to 2 year olds.

My youngest will be three years old in a couple of months and he can't talk, thinks everything is edible, still drops little odor-filled pellet surprises when he forgets what the potty is for and thinks he's the Batman. If my kid had to take an entrance exam now for admission in his current state, I know I'd be the first to cry.

Even if admission tests and requirements are scaled down so young kids can pass, parents will still have to pack milk bottles, diapers, baby wipes and teddy bears along with the usual cookies and juice for their kids. That's just another way of saying small kids aren't ready.

Aquino says the Philippines is one of the few countries with just 4 years of high school. We need to add 2 more years to improve the quality of education. Don't we have highly respected Filipino nurses, doctors, educators, chefs and engineers thriving in foreign environments abroad? Aren't these people the products of four year high school programs? It's not in the number of years. It's in the quality of education and in the way we teach kids how to deal with the realities of life.

Are you ready for school little boy? Only if they teach me my ABCs in the Batcave. To the Batcave!

Rockets, Ships and Transgender Miss Universe

2012-04-18T17:42:00.000+08:00

Mike will soon be able to declare his desire for world peace on the Miss U stage

Last week’s top three news items:

#1 – NoKor’s rocket launch

Yes it failed but before it did, it sent neighboring Asian countries into red alert status. While South Korea and Japan prepared their defense systems, National Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Council (NDRRMC) director Benito Ramos could do nothing more than demonstrate to media how to detach ballpen caps.

"Imagine this ballpen is a rocket. This here is the part that comes off. Now you better pray you aren’t unlucky enough to be the one in 92 million Filipinos who gets a surprise rocket part."

In fairness to the NDRRMC, rumor has it that they did send a team of specialists over to areas at risk. These specialists are pros in patintero a local game crucial in training residents proper evasive maneuvers. Trainees were asked to look up while darting right and left just like in patintero. If the rocket part is falling your way, simply dart to the left or right.

Taken from Bogart the Explorer's FB page

#2 – Philippines vs. China standoff at Scarborough Shoal

Chinese fishing vessels and the Philippine’s ancient flagship the BRP Gregorio del Pilar were caught in a standoff on the disputed waters of Scarborough Shoal. Vintage is good and classy but not when it’s in reference to a warship that is the only thing standing between us and China’s wrath.

In an effort to diffuse the situation, President Aquino vowed to resolve the issue through diplomatic channels. That’s obvious enough even to a sixth grader. Armed with nothing but the naval equivalent of a slingshot, we really have no choice.

#3 – Transgender contestants in Miss Universe

Because we know there is nothing our government can do in the face of rocket debris and Chinese fishermen, our citizens saw it best to devote most of their intellectual energies to the scholarly debates over the issue of transgender contestants in Miss Universe.

Surprisingly, I have no opinion about the matter, just the observation that when standing beside my transgender hairstylist I, a natural born female, look like an ugly little boy. That is either a testament to how ugly I am or how beautiful he is. Believe me, it’s the latter. My point is that transgender women are so stunningly beautiful, I wonder if a natural born female will ever win the crown again.

What is the essence of a woman? Answer: Maybe the absence of balls.

Magnum Ice Cream - Grab a Status Symbol Now

2012-04-02T18:47:00.001+08:00

A strange viral infection swept over the web last week. Its aim was to eradicate reason and individuality and manifested itself in multiple blog and social network photos of people in compromising poses, nibbling on Magnum, the newest carrier of forbidden calories.

Gone were the pictures of cute babies; adorable cat videos; photos of breakfast, lunch, dinner; Foursquare invitations to stalkers and the constant rants against life's unfairness. When there's just a constant stream of gold labelled ice cream wrappers, you suddenly miss the creepy insights into your friends' personal lives, whereabouts, mental issues and digestive habits.

I've been told that in other cities, the infection is much worse. Elated by the idea that perceived elevated social status can now be bought, urban peacocks take pictures in very public places of before, during and after they consume the ice cream bar.

Magnum is reportedly a status symbol, but what kind of a status symbol is something that's accessible to everyone? Aren't status symbols, by their very nature supposed to be too expensive or too rare for the average Joe to have? I therefore suggest that Magnum should be declared a status symbol for the average social status.

In the interest of giving a fair(ly) biased assessment of Magnum, I had to try it. Surprisingly, it was harder to find than a haystack with a needle. It was out of stock in three stores and running out in another, as if people bought them in crates, afraid that if they ran out of it they'd look ordinary, cheap or poor.

For my first bite, I closed my eyes like the TV ad model demonstrated, but there was no consequent awakening to an adoring crowd celebrating my newly discovered royalty. There was only the realization that the name Magnum is a glaring mismatch for a sweet product. It's a more appropriate name for a mastiff, an action movie or a UFC fighter. Somehow, "Hype" has a softer, more fitting sound.

What was the taste like? Nido full cream milk seemed a tad creamier than the vanilla filling. As for the Belgian chocolate coating, I'm not refined enough to tell the differences among Belgian chocolates, Hersheys, M & Ms and ChocNut, so the distinction was lost on me.

In less than five minutes, all that supposed Belgian superiority was in my digestive system anyway, mixed with the salted dried fish I had for lunch. All I had left was a branded stick. Oh good, I could either have it framed or carry it around to flash in the faces of random strangers.