Counting Potatoes

Reflections on the AH1N1 Virus

noreply@blogger.com (Abu Jabu) — Wed, 24 Jun 2009 14:31:00 +0000

A few weeks ago, I wrote about not trusting the government about being able to control the AH1N1 outbreak. I hate it when i'm right. Now people left are right are finding themselves infected with the said virus with even one finding out about it while hovering over his own body on the autopsy table.

What's almost funny about it all is the fact that our department of health is always trying to play down the impact of this virus. Like a damned irritating optimist caught with its finger in the proverbial dike, trying to keep everyone calm while the sea reclaims the land.

When the virus still hasnt entered our country: "Ah we got it all under control and we are strictly monitoring everyone who enters the country".

When the first few cases were discovered: "Ah we got it all under control and we are putting everyone who came into contact with them under strict quarantine"

When the confirmed cases ballooned to a hundred: " fortunately only the mild strain entered our country, dengue is far more potent than this. [as if the lower mortality rate was any consolation and the much faster propagation of AH1N1 over dengue was an unimportant point]"

When confirmed cases reached more than 500: "Ah this is because people are more aware now and more are having themselves tested." Followed by an announcement that says "because of the dwindling stocks of AH1N1 testers, only the very young, sick or old will be tested. The rest should just quarantine themselves at home.." O_o

I wonder how far DOH is gonna go with all this optimistic bullshit..

Perhaps if the virus infects more than half our population and Manila starts looking like a ghost town they will say: "Ahh.. at least there will be less traffic on the streets, and less crime too" or "Ah, we are confident that pretty soon everyone will have AH1N1 virus and the fear of being infected with it is gonna go away.. after that things will get back pretty much to the way they were before"

And when people starts dropping dead left and right, perhaps they will say "Ah, this is only Darwin's theory of natural selection at work and pretty soon all that will be left are filipinos with very strong immune systems, making for a healthier country" or "Ah, not to worry, the government is confident that it has enough public lands to ensure that everyone dead gets buried"

And when only a fourth of our population is left, perhaps our government will boast: "Ah, we are proud to announce that the overpopulation problem as well as the traffic problem has finally been solved due to the diligence of our public offices" or "We are proud to announce that poverty rate is down by 50%, crime rate is down by 70% and illiteracy rate by 60%"

and when most everyone is dead or dying: "Ah, polution is significantly reduced and the threat of global warming is erradicated"

As such, I think we are pretty much on our own on this one. So i've compiled some simple tips and strategies everyone can apply to minimize the risk of being infected by the AH1N1 virus.

- Everytime you hear someone sneeze or cough in a public place, whip out a weird looking gadget [anything with an LCD screen except a cellphone will do] and a fake authentic looking badge and ask in a loud voice.. "WHO WAS THAT?" .. Then whip out your cellphone and say "I THINK WE GOT A POSSIBLE CASE HERE, REQUESTING BACKUP AND EXTRACTION UNITS". You can bet your ass no one is going to dare sneeze or cough after that.

- Better yet, always bring a flamethrower around. when someone sneezes or coughs within your immediate area, whip it out, point upwards and press the trigger. As soon as you get their attention through your amazing pyrotechnic display, say in a loud voice "WHO THE FUCK WAS THAT?"

- or you could also go around sneezing and coughing loudly while speaking loudly over the phone about your trip to Mexico, how you feel very crappy and weak and how your relatives are dying like flies. People will give you a wide berth in this case.

- Or maybe we should should just start thinking bout going around in austronaut suits, or diving suits, or fireman suits or whatever.. Public conversations will start sounding like endless reruns of Star Wars III - VI with us going "Hello, I'd like to order... KHAAAAHHHH... Cheeseburger.. KHAAAAAHHHH.... "

- As for those who cant afford to buy these suits, washing machine or refrigerator boxes with cutouts covered with plastic should be enough. Better to look bad or stupid walking around in a damn cardboard box than good and dead in a coffin eh?

Changing Paradigms

noreply@blogger.com (Abu Jabu) — Sun, 21 Jun 2009 06:16:00 +0000

lights are closed and silence walked the night.. a sob and a muffled tearful voice penetrated through the haze of my drowsiness..

Pre, ang bukas ba tinatadhana ng panahon.. O bakas lamang ng kahapon? / Is tommorow dictated by fate.. or just footprints of yesterday?..

it's my college room mate mourning over a recent break up.. and my mind went from happily drowsy to O_o wtf??! mode, that godawful cheesy question shouldnt be thrown at someone just about to fall into slumber's sweet embrace.. contemplated pretending to be already asleep but what the hell...

sigh... bro.. just decide forget her.. put all your relationship's shit in a box where you can't see it, throw it away and flirt with that cute girl you were telling me about in your class.. DONT wallow in your pathethic bullshit ok?..

to which he pitifully replied: i want to die

bro, a year from now, you're going to look back to today and feel really really corny and stupid..

i've never been much of a fan of emotional theatrics.. And i figured it was my job to drench him with cold water in this case.. And whadyouknow.. He listened..

He boxed up her things, moved on and less than a year after, he was back to his cheesy/horny self, he he..

I guess even the most painful of heartbreaks become a lot more bearable when you really believe the paradigm that time will heal the wounds, that it wont always hurt as badly as when it was still fresh. That's why i always take the time to remember some of my extremely mushy/drama laden highschool stories when faced by similar circumstances. It's hard to wallow in self pity when you're cringing in self disgust at the same time, ehe he

anyways, on a lighter note..

Setting is 3 years after, different room mate, different boarding house and different story. It's about as far from a love story as you can get but it packed the same paradigm shift experience.. for me this time..

See my room mate suffered from polio when he was a kid. Thus, he walks with a pronounced limp and tires very easily. But if you think that makes him the type that's meek or shy or introverted, you couldnt be further from the truth.. He is one of the funniest, outspoken and prank driven guys i've ever come across. but that's not the paradigm shift here..

It started the evening before with an intense craving for an egg sandwich for breakfast. We went out to purchase the necessary ingredients including a dozen eggs. Boiled the eggs, mixed it with mayo and other stuff. Readied the sliced bread and coffee. Slept early. Eagerly ate our super special egg sandwich and coffee breakfast and was off to the jeepney stop across the road to get a ride to school.

one of mayo's main ingredients is egg.. and we added a dozen more eggs on top of that. plus the coffee and cream.. As we were standing there waiting for the jeep, the forces of darkness were gathering within our tummies.. I could feel the vortex of the storm turning, expanding, rumbling.. little beads of perspiration began popping out my forehead.. I glanced at my friend and saw my own urgent dilema reflected there.. And perhaps in that instant, we both thought of the same thing.. There's only one toilet bowl for the two of us..

Both of us started running full speed at the same time.. I was laughing demonically/hysterically all the while, shouting.. You can't catch up boy! Wa ha ha ha! You and your limp! Wa ha ha! And he was huffing and puffing behind me.

i can never fully explain how he was able to run so fast... It was like he tilted his body forward, with his feet churning like little whirlwinds behind him.. he was like a steam engined locomotive.. building momentum.. Unstoppable.. the next thing i knew, he overtook me and my demonical laughter turned to disbelieving wails of anguish... How???! Whhyyy??!

when i got to our room, he was already inside the toilet.. i could hear gurgling and splattering and he was laughing his ass off... I was reduced to begging him finish faster so i can have my turn.. Serves me right for my previous paradigm against disabled people.. sigh..

Then again, sometimes our paradigm shifts are not all that sudden. Sometimes it takes months, even years. It grows on us, changing our perceptions day by day, until we wake up one day wondering how the hell did we get here. These are the paradigm shifts that usually impacts us the most. The ones that gets etched in our beings, defining our lives.

Like waking up one day, realizing that you have become a full fledged parent. Caring for one little life more than you ever did to yourself or any other person you loved. Mostly tearing your hair out in frustration but also wondering how you ever did without seeing him sleep peacefully beside you at night.. or hear him laugh..

Or suddenly remembering someone you love and has said goodbye, finally smiling, thanking God that no matter how painful it is to lose someone you love, the richness of joy in your life and the memories is well worth the pain.

Or having your fingers hover midair over your keyboard, the realization that you've grown up, have to earn your own keep and striking out to make your own story in this world, washing over you like cold water. No more allowances, no more summer breaks, cramming for exams and the such. Now you have to build, to work, to save with whatever tools and skills you have accumulated over the years. It may scare the shit out of us most of the time but then again, most of who came this way probably felt the same way too and they did just fine.

Or maybe life's paradigm shift can be as simple as realizing that love isnt just a complex web of feelings, emotions and descriptions.. but a verb, a decision and a reflection of the love we have for ourselves and the growth in maturity that comes with time.

you may feel like giving up now, but believe that things will always look better tomorrow or maybe the next year...

that every wind of change carries with it a seed of happiness that could grow if only you'd recognize it for what it is..

that problems cannot be solved in the same level of thinking that got us into it in the first place...

that quarrels, misunderstandings and fights are mostly driven by hurt and pride.. and recognizing it is already half the solution..

that every problem we have, ever had and will have in the future will always have a common denominator... us and how we look at things.. and the gulf between looking at it as opportunities for growth or another burden to carry can make a world of difference..

a half empty glass is always half full..

We can't always choose the things that happen in our lives.. but we can choose the paradigms by how we see them..

Controversial Views in Philippine Politics: What's All the Fuss About??

noreply@blogger.com (Abu Jabu) — Fri, 12 Jun 2009 13:51:00 +0000

There was a lot of hoopla, flag waving, speeches and celebration today all over the nation. I ask.. What's the fuss about?

Government officials caught with their hands stuck in our cookie jar are not being brought to justice. One of them is even planning to run again for president next year. Moreover, convicted murderers, rapists, assasins, etc are being granted presidential pardon. Is it just me, or is something glaringly wrong with justice in this place? Without justice, are we really free?

The government is spending less and less on education. Opting instead on spending more and more on our national defense. Hoping the militant student groups would just shut up so it can go ahead and privatize even our country's education. No wonder everyone is asking themselves if our country is really moving forward despite the government's indignant insistence. Uhhh.. this train's not moving madam president.. a carabao pulling a cart just overtook us. Without education, how can there be freedom from poverty, ignorance and crime? Without brains, would arms bring about progress? Without education, are we really free?

Those who can turn this country around though are fleeing this land as fast as they can - like rats jumping overboard a sinking ship. The brain drain.. makes those of us left behind feel like we're missing something important.. it's like everyones running away from a bomb, and we're happily munching on potato chips - headphones stuck on our ears, looking at the scrabbling people with a big question mark on top of our heads. Without viable options for our future right here, how can we say we've gained independence? By being forced to leave behind the familiar, our families and our country, how can we say we are free?

Petron, our government owned oil company, sold and the spoils divided among local crocodiles. Meralco, government owned electric company, sold to the highest bidder and the cash promptly swallowed by government blackhole. PNB, Philippine Airlines, Maynilad, NAPOCOR and the list goes on.. Let me ask then... Is there any income earning government owned utility left? And.. How exactly do you fuck up a utility company that has the whole country as its customer base and is enjoying complete monopoly??! O_o Without any safeguards from cartels, rampant inflation and non existent price controls, can we still say we are free?

The nations money handed out in paperbags during a government meeting, our hard earned money traded and deposited under the table in other countries during international conventions, our land (spratleys) sold so that our honorable government officials can dip their fingers through gigantic loans (such as the ZTE deal) now and let us pay later. I ask, without any protection from glaringly corrupt government officials, are we really enjoying freedom? Without any will to vote and choose our next leaders wisely, are we really free?

EDSA shrine, the place that served as the fulcrum of our country's history, now off limits to rallies and demonstrations. Our own police force and military, undergoing urban warfare and crowd suppresion training. Rallyists being beaten to death. Journalists gunned down in cold blood. Outspoken government dissidents hunted like animals. Without real freedom of speech, without meaningful ways of protesting against the government, do we have liberty? Are we free?

And the apex of all hypocrisies regarding our supposed freedom, the constitutional change through the con ass, where congressmen are brought one by one like cheap goods in a flea market. Where congressmen are made to decide our country's fate in direct contradiction to the people's voice. Where our honorable congressmen are joined under one banner to stamp down our basic freedom.. Our freedom to vote.. To choose our next leader.. To choose change..

They say a frog will willingly submit itself to death if the water is boiled in slow increments. We laugh at the frog's stupidity while we submit ourselves to the same fate, being slowly boiled to serfdom through terrorist threats, sex scandals and boxing matches.

So if you, by chance, took part in today's hypocrisy.. waved little flags, sang our national anthem, set off fireworks..

Ask yourself...

What the fuck were you celebrating? O_o

RoadTrip

noreply@blogger.com (Abu Jabu) — Mon, 08 Jun 2009 14:29:00 +0000

Nothing is constant but change
and in this roadtrip we're all on
nothing is certain but the little bumps, roadside glitches, minor sometimes major accidents and crossroads we've to come across or experience..

like a stray dog that suddenly decides to cross the road and ends up jammed and dying on your front wheel..

or little speed humps that rattle your brain when caught unaware..

or a truck with a drowsy driver smashing into your rear bumper..

or an unexpected turn somewhere leaving your out in the middle of nowhere without gas..

it maybe that most of us already have a specific route in mind..
a roadmap, expected landmarks, fixed turn-offs..
all leading to a particular destination..
and more than anything else, we wish to drive steadily and unfailingly towards it. eyes on the road, foot on the pedal, sure hands on the wheel, and lips mouthing a silent prayer..

O God, I hope nothing unexpected happens..

and most trips usually do.. most people end up where they want to, basically the same save for windblown hair and a few hours of boredom..

but ever so often, fate decides to take the wheel and plow us right into a tree.. or a stray dog.. or maybe it just takes us on a ride to somewhere else..

like a side road we've never intended to take..

or an opportunity to help someone who has been in an accident..

or a breathtaking view of a mountain you have seen all your life...

or a vivid and colorful rainbow that makes you pull over the road and just stare at it in wonder...

a movie line goes..
life is not about the number of breaths you take, but the moments that take your breath away..

some of us journey with the windows closed.. to see the world only when stepping out at the destination.. realizing too late that the ride was half the trip..

some stare out the window for the whole duration of the ride.. waiting for something extraordinary to happen.. never realizing that extraordinary isnt out there but in our capacity to see.. to recognize extraordinary in the most mundane of things..

and yet some just happen to be looking out the window at the right place and time.. going on with their lives.. thinking bout the rainbow they've once seen..

no matter what the case may be, when fate takes over the wheel - remember to keep your eyes open..

what happens next may not exactly be what you had in mind.. but you can bet your ass that every single second will define your life..

here's to everyone on the road...

Should Hayden be the Next National Hero?: Aftershocks of the Katrina Halili Scandal

noreply@blogger.com (Abu Jabu) — Sat, 23 May 2009 01:48:00 +0000

The Katrina Halili scandal became officialy available in the internet this week and one could almost hear the whole country's internet backbone groan in complaint of the massive surge of recent traffic. Ironically, while the representative groups, the religious and political leaders of our country are indignantly condemming the perversion of all perversions that is the sex scandal, the rest of the country are scrambling all over the internet looking for download and video streaming sites containing the said scandalous and perverted video.

Surprisingly too, girls seems to be as interested and sometimes even more determined to find the video than guys. I could hear them giggling beside me in the internet cafe as they viewed, discected and discussed the different positions shown on the clip as well as the size and rigidity of something I wasnt too eager to know more about. I suspect that for girls, scandal videos are the ulmitate reality show. The most juicy [figuratively] and basest of all tube shows that shows a woman that must be going through the worst moment in her life. And while guys don't generally care if they watch the video muted or not [don't ask why, he he], girls seem to be very very interested in what the characters are saying while doing the act. They would even play the video back repeatedly while straining their ears to understand the muffled conversations [the medical transcriptionists are usually better at this]

Case in point is the I love you bhebhe scandal where the woman starts off in the bed staring lovingly at her man holding the camcorder while saying some mushy words:

"I love you bhebhe, happy anniversary, sana mag mature na tayo pareho.. Sana di na tayo away ng away" [I hope both of us grow more mature, I hope we don't argue often anymore]

For some reason, girls find this very very funny and memorable, recounting the lines verbatim everytime we touch the topic.

Of course, what happened after the girl said those lines didnt help. After running out of mushy words to say, the girl trailed off and asked:

"O anong rin masasabi mo?" [do you have something to say too?] and the guy answered.

"Eh maghubad ka na" [take off your clothes]

Upon which the girl proceeded to blow the guy while mumbling some endearments in between slurps.

O_o ... That's wicked..

Then there was this Lasalle scandal where the girl said while the guy was taking a close up video of her privates:

"papatayin talaga kita, pag lumabas tong video na to" [I'll kill you if this video gets out]

And the whole country giggled at that line.

Guys are no better.. One of my college friends know that my work is netbased.. Upon learning that the Katrina Halili video came out, he texted me immediately to ask for a copy of the video.. Preferably one that can be played through his phone.o_O

And yesterday, while browsing through the new DVDs of a hole in the wall stall, two groups of guys came in asking if the store manager already have a copy of the katrina halili video.

It's no wonder that the porn industry drives much of the progress today in industries like virtual reality, robotics and internet commerce. Apparently, 'perversion' is an expensive habit and a profitable business. Just now, there are already 159,000 search results for katrina halili scandal in google and more than 500,000 average monthly searches for pinoy scandal related videos according to the google keyword tool. o_O

Now our own senate is at it again - Investigating the sex scandal of katrina halili this time. Moreover, they have already subpoenaed the 3 women concerned to appear before them and to have them checked by a shrink for trauma [as if appearing before the national media because of their scandals where everyone can oogle at them while reviewing the sex videos will help]

Is it just me or does it seem that our senate is doing nothin else but investigate one case after another like a local version of CSI? [one which doesnt solve a lot of cases, he he]. Senator Revilla even gave a thundering sermon against 'the ultimate of perverts' whereupon someone saw it fit to remind him that he himself had a sex video scandal way back in 2002. o_O Does that make him the Runner Up to the ultimate of perverts?

Another celebrity was also heard saying that Katrina should have refrained from having sex in the first place because it is bad. o_O A line from the bible comes to mind.. 'let her without a sin cast the first stone'. Ehe he.. Maybe she should get herself sewn up.

On another note, the mother of all whistle blowers [one that broke open the Hello Garci scandal] from the NBI recently passed away and some people are recommending that he should become a national hero.

Reading the discussions on the internet though, the hundreds of posts that hail Hayden as the new pinoy idol, a poll that asks who will vote for Hayden as the next president, the thousand of posts pleading for a link, and several others proclaiming the date of the release of the sex scandal a national sperm spraying day, one could almost infer that its Dr. Hayden that the people want to be their next national hero. Right up there beside Dr. Jose Rizal.

O_o

I wonder what his monument would look like?

Farming Fear

noreply@blogger.com (Abu Jabu) — Mon, 18 May 2009 05:09:00 +0000

There's a nasty nasty joke being played all around the world. And sadly, we are the butt of it. This is no Fear Factor. This is real. We live in a fear farm and we are the crop.

From the moment of our fertilization to our funerals, our lives will be subconciously directed, influenced and permeated by fear. and it's not even the simple and less costly type of fear our ancestors have to deal with like the fear of hellfire and damnation, today's line-up of fear factors are somewhat more earthly, tangible and commercialized. They dont get delivered via thundering sermons from the raised pulpit either but through engaging jingles, funny scripts, and serious, credible, paranoia provoking infomercials.

We may find them funny or outrageously senseless at first, but as time can move mountains, streams and even continents through its consistent and persistent action, so can advertisements over time move billions of minds all over the planet to spend on more and more things unheard of and uneeded before. Sooner or later, we catch ourselves singing that commercial jingle. Then, before we know it, we're looking at our underarms in the mirror contemplating whether its a tad too black and hairy.

Speaking about which, here are some products, services and what nots I've compiled which have made our lives so much more expensive over the years.

1. Anti Black Underarm Deodorant and Armpit Shaver

Evolution or God has dictated that most girls should have hairs on their armpits. Some nutty capitalist felt he had a better sense of aesthetics and declared armpit hairs taboo. Afterall, if you could convince women that armpit hairs shouldnt be there and if you could include women with armpit hairs in men's nightmares, there's bound to be a huge huge market that's going to be created over time.

And now that most women are already shaving their armpits - out comes an advertisement that says "regular shaving can cause black underarms". So now, black underarms are included on the list of taboos and a new product is launched to combat specifically this.

So first it was smelly underams [which was considered normal from time immemorial to about 60 years ago], then it was hairy underarms, then black underams.. I wonder what they'll come up with next to further fan the insecurities of women regarding their armpits?

Porous underarms?

Wrinkly underarms?

O_o

2. Mineral Water

Bottled water... 30 years ago, they would've been as ridiculous as canned earth. But now, one sees them regularly in grocery shelves along with carbonated and fruit drinks. Now, they're even trying to sell us ponkana sweat [ if they can sell bottled sweat then that's it, we're really fucked up]

Bottled water... They are an undeniable proof of the power of media in our lives. If capitalists can convince us that we need to buy even water, then there's no end to what they can persuade us to buy..

Pretty soon they might be selling fresh air tanks that we can plug into our home ventilation systems..

Or scented bathwater..

Or little pills we can stick up our ass to serve as fart deodorizer..

We would go.. Pfffffftttttt....

Then the whole room would smell like a field of roses... [ farting would actually become romantic] Some pills can be made to hum love songs as they disintegrate.

3. Snack to Burn [Diet Food]

Saw this ad just the other day.. Snack to burn.. Burn calories even as you eat..

Weird.. Back in biology class, I thought the whole point of eating was to stock up on energy. 99.9999% of all living things on earth eat to survive, no wonder we've fucked up the planet big time. We eat just so we can burn the food we have eaten earlier in the day.

Isn't it ironic that while 70% of all the people in the world are dying of starvation, the rest are eating food just to burn the food they have just consumed?

Meanwhile, the US government is paying its farmers subsidies just so they wont have to plant anything in their farms [to avoid flooding the world market and lower the price of foodstuff].

God must be pretty confused by now thus the swine flu outbreak.. He must be thinking.. Hmmm... Maybe I should just start all over again?

4. Ringtones

Ringtones.. People actually buy ringtones.. Chris Rock predicts that pretty soon, a merger between big telecom companies will occur and we'll suddenly find ourselves choosing between cellphone models that have no ringtones installed.

Right in the middle of conversations, people would then just suddenly fish out their cellphones and go "Hello? Hello?", smile foolishly at you and say "he he, i'm just making sure no ones calling"

5. Whitening/Tanning lotions

How to make money in selling skin lotions 101:

Make White and Yellow people want to have golden tanned skin..

Make Black and Brown people want to have pinkish white skin..

With everyone going bonkers about their skin color, you can then sell skin lotions like pancakes.

I wonder if anyone ever notices that beauty commercials seems to be always about being something that most people are not? If the country is 95% brown people, then infuse it with ads about women with pinkish white skin. Don't put chocolate brown models on the pedestal else most might end up feeling pretty satisfied bout themselves.

6. Liver Aid, Calciaid, Omega 9, Good bacteria, Good Cholesterol, L-carnitine, the 5 signs of good nutrition, etc.

Not a day or even an hour passes without our being reminded of the weird sounding chemicals, amino acids, compounds, vitamins or minerals that our bodies might be missing. We are slowly being boiled in fear of our bodies and health.

With all the facts and figures flying around about the correct way of living, it makes one wonder how the human race has gotten this far without these wonder drugs. How did Einstein ever become a genius without promil?? How did some people live to be a hundred years old without Haveitall or calciaid??

I think it is only in this century that people are becoming intimately aware of what is going on inside their bodies, the 1,001 things that could go wrong with it and the wonder drugs that could deal with it.

7. Credit Cards

Several decades ago, living life in perpetual debt was considered plain stupid. Now we see pictures of smiling women weighed down by multiple shopping bags, grinning guys driving a brand new car brought on credit, ecstatic couples smugly reclining on a brand new sala set, watching a movie on a brand new ultra slim LCD tv, all brought by a swipe of their plastic as if these are as life should always be. They don't bother to show the pictures of these people slumped over their desks, mascaras smeared from crying or arguing with each other on how to pay the bills.

The smiling and happy faces seems to have convinced most of us that living a life in bondage to the bank is ok and living way way beyond our means is perfectly normal as long as the credit limit supports it.

We constantly live in fear. Fear sowed by the uneding deluge of advertisements everywhere and everyday of our lives. Fear of rejection brought about by black underarms, smelly feet, dark skin and thousand of other fabricated insecurities. Fear of death and our health thus the multi vitamins and minerals, mineral water, omega 9 products, enriched baby milk, anti osteoporosis pills, etc, etc, etc. Fear of the future, thus the insurance packages, college plans, exam reviews and health coverage. Fear of boredom, empty spaces and failure thus the trappings of wealth and entertainment provided by the reliable plastic.

It may be covered with an icing of happiness, beauty, comfort, health and security but scratch the surface just a little and you'll find out that most of our decisions about money are ruled by simple fear. Fear deliberately planted on our minds so as to farm our hard earned money.

Consummerism has become the new religion and Brands, the new sheperd of men.

Oh well.. At least its better than living in constant fear of being chosen as the next human sacrifice to appease the rain god. Ehe he

ps. Forward this blog to 50 other people or the fleas of a thousand camels will infest your armpits tonight.

Reflections On Friendster Exhibitionists

noreply@blogger.com (Abu Jabu) — Thu, 07 May 2009 09:00:00 +0000

Piebuko has posed a very interesting question in her blog. Why do girls take pictures of themselves in their undies?

Why Indeed? O_o I have asked the same question myself when I first discovered amateur porn [not that I was complaining then or now] back in college. But why do some girls get their kicks by posting half nude pictures of themselves in a place where everyone can see them?

A manifestation of their exhibitionist tendencies perhaps? I remember way back in grade school, boys had a somewhat similar inclination. There were a lot of penis flashing in those days. Lookiee what I have! One would suddenly exclaim as you pee beside him in the boy's CR. His penis would then be suddenly out for your perusal as if he was expecting a comment. Some older guys still do this too. I remember a story told by our female batchmate. She was sitting beside a man [who she thought was just waving a black umbrella back and forth ] in an FX taxi. When she chanced to look directly at the man. Lo and Behold! It was not an umbrella but a very large black dick! The man was looking at her as if daring her to react. The first thing that came to my mind when told of this story was a childhood rhyme. See bantay jump... See bantay jump mother.. See bantay jump father.. Fact is, some people just get a kick out of seeing other's reaction to their nudity [or half nudity]. Maybe in their secret selves, they feel that they have to be half nude or nude to be noticed or envied. Bad press is still press after all, he he. Lookie what I have!

Some girls are also very proud of their bodies. They are so in love with themselves that I think that if they can only clone themselves, they'd fuck themselves brainless in a minute. Remember the girls that stop and admire their reflections in my Multi-millenium bug blog? Well, if you know of someone who does this every other minute, check out their friendster albums and I'll bet you'll find half naked pictures along with the googoo eyed zoolander faces there. Ehe he, ask jinky and she'll tell you that some men do this too -uploading pics of themselves in their briefs. o_O

Lastly, some girls do this to advertise their availability and to attract hormone driven men. If you stop to think about it, this is really understandable as it is only a digital manifestation of a primal instinct. After all, female animals in the wild do rub their genitals on trees, leaving their scents, to advertise the fact that they are ready to mate. Posting half nude or nude pictures of themselves is just a digital equivalent of this.

Whatever the reason may be, I think the half nude or nude pictures of social network users also serve a higher purpose when you ponder about the bigger picture. Think about it as one of the mate selection tools of us homo sapiens. Dick driven guys gravitate towards the half nudies and exhibitionists, romantic guys go for the ones with the right background music, cutie widgets and cutie profiles, and others go for what's in the blogs [although all guys still do take a peek at them nudies who are only too eager to show their goods for free every once in a while, he he].

Now friendster/myspace/facebook nudies lamenting the injustice that they can't find any decent men..

... That I don't understand. O_o

Secret Notes of the Pinoy Movie Industry

noreply@blogger.com (Abu Jabu) — Wed, 06 May 2009 08:00:00 +0000

* note: This does not apply to All pinoy movies. Some of them are actually very good.

On Characters:

A. Main Character must either have poker face [if action movie] or funny face [if comedy].

Notes:

1. Flabby action stars are ok but minimize running and rolling scenes in the movie as it might end up diminishing the heroic look of hero.

2. Hero must be poor, to gain instant sympathy from our target audience [tucked in shirts, fitted pants, belt buckles and brown shoes]

3. For some reason, ladies in the movie will find this flabby guy attractive [please look for possibles in pinoy big brother auditions]

B. Bad Character Must Have Evil Laugh [with maniacal eyes to match]. [video recording attached, please practice the antagonist on this]

C. Funny sidekick [preferably gay] (don't explain why hero wants to hang out with this guy)

D. Leading Lady [maria clara type, spitting mad at the hero at the start of the story but fucks him like a rabbit near the end. Please see sex scence notes]

E. Goons and Syndicates - contact numbers of guys who always play this part attached in separate document. They will already know the good guy - bad guy routine.

On Props:

- Defective Bullets and Magical Guns: none of the lesser bad guys should hit main character no matter if this is beyond the realm of real life statistics and if a gazillion guns are pointed at him- as usual tell them to aim for hero's feet. Good guy's gun should be fitted with the infinite bullets magazine [thank God no one in the audience knows how to count] and homing bullets [one that kills 3 bad guys for every single shot]

- Old Cars and Warehouse Hideouts: Tell producers that we don't have enough budget to use new cars in movies for supposedly 'filthy rich and powerful' bad guys. Please check stockroom or buy and sell for cheap old cars for sale instead [this will be used in car chases and exploding car scenes in the movie]. No exploding cars during car chases please, they are too expensive to create - explode car while stationary instead - use toy car if possible.

Also please contact the owner of regular warehouse we use as headquarters for the bad guys and the setting for the final battle scene. Wakwak mansions are too expensive to rent [let's hope the audience doesnt know any better].

Don't forget the pancit prop the hero brings to his child's bday just before their house gets hosed by the bad guys. [scatter the pancit over the child's bloody body as this will enrage the audience]

On Special Effects:

- Bad Guys Dance when Shot and Flies when punched by good guy. Please contact regular choreographer for this and practice the bad guys crew in flying and dancing. Rehearsal scheduled before actual shot.

- Stomach Punches el Rapido with Ear Clapping Finale. [audience loves this for some reason although it defies logic why someone will just stand there and take a hundred punches to the tummy and still wait for the ear clapping finale] No matter, contact actor if his arthritis still permits this move. On second thought.. Is this actor still around?

On Plot:

Below is a checklist of different plots or twists you can use for the movie or to make the TV series longer than it originally was if it gets good ratings.

- Amnesia: wipe the slate clean and start from scratch. Good idea to insert new characters on this part. No permanent amnesias please.

- Kidnap: May be done before amnesia or to give main character the catalyst to go after the bad guys near the end. The Kidnapping needs not have a good reason behind it. Just get the girl or whatever and see what develops from there.

- babies get switched: a very 'good twist' for the movie although it seems a little obvious from the start [by the way, check with researcher if this happens often in our country].

- lockets, necklace, ring, diary, etc that holds the answer to main character's life. [suggestion that main character will pawn her necklace to buy a new 3G cellphone is rejected, who sent this?]

- Extremes: super rich vs. ultra poor is a proven strategy although the president's daughter falling for the poor blind guy who plays the guitar in an overpass and doesnt take a bath might be a bit unrealistic.

- Vendetta: Have the poor maltreated underdog win the jackpot lotto, inherit wealth from a distant relative or marry some old dying geezer to turn the tables somewhere in the middle of the movie. Don't show scenes where the underdog goes on a wild eyed shopping spree frenzy in divisoria. Underdog must be sophisticated, calm and composed when she meets her tormentor, plus she will also be able to speak in straight english.

Scenes:

- Instant aging of characters - character sits in the toilet as a kid, stands up to wash her butt as a young woman or rides a jeepney as an eight year old and come down as an eighty year old. Think up of a good transformation scene and send me your ideas. Do you think a little girl's armpits suddenly growing hairs with a camera pan showing a beautiful grown woman plucking the armpit hairs in front of the mirror is a good idea? Or how about a young girl picking her nose? Close up on the booger, pan out and show a young woman daintily rolling and flicking the booger?

- One of the bad guys is always around when someone confesses a secret: yes even when that secret is told in a confessional booth - bad guy should either be the priest or pretending to be a statue on top of confessional booth. Ps. Don't forget the evil smile as bad guy listens and discovers secret.

- Someone falls off the stairs: Dramatic way of getting rid of someone important in movie. Stairs should be made of concrete or marble and not wood and should be composed of more than 3 steps. Please dont forget camera pan focusing on facial expression of character as she falls down. Do a slow motion if possible but dont give the falling character a script.

- Someone has to die first before the good guy becomes enraged. Dying person says 1 page script before dying. Dying person SHOULD be someone of importance to main character. The scene with the laundry woman dying in the arms of her master telling him about remaining spin cycles and where the hangers are stored was scratched from our script.

- Song and Dance Portion: There is nothing wrong with a macho, bad ass, no nonsense type of hero doing a song and dance portion on the beach with his lady and hundreds of other beach goers. Even macho guys get overwhelmed by emotions sometimes, although in real life he would have to kill himself afterwards because of the shame.

- Bullets run out so the good and bad guy have to fight hand to hand combat. Why this is so is a mystery the film school didnt explain. Maybe there's just something very sellable with two macho guys groping each other, tumbling on the floor with their sweat dripping on each other and breathing on each other's face.

- Leading Man and Leading Lady Run Together in Slow motion as Background Explodes: This shot is a must as 30% of the budget is tied in the explosives in this scene. Use three cameras to capture the scene and show all in movie. No cuts, no retakes even if all three cameras show the love handles of the hero flapping up and down as he runs.

- Nude Scenes: Of course, no action movie is complete without some sweaty, glazed eyed, moan filled, slow motion errotic bed scene. Special care must be taken to ensure that the scene makes it through the censors though. So a. only one breast or one nipple should be visible at any one time, b. No pubic hair or shadows of pubic hairs are to be shown c. Focus on characters' glaze eyed faces and confusing entwined body parts instead of the sensitive parts and d. Even if it defies reality and logic combined, the guy should be fixated at kissing the girl, her neck, her ears and anywhere else instead of her breasts. No sucking of the nipple please!! This doesnt happen in movies!

Finally, have the hero and leading lady sing the movie's theme song in a popular TV show even if they both don't know how to sing. Promote the controversial [and unrealistic] sex scene in the movie, sit back and wait for the bucks to roll in. Never mind if its a complete waste of a powerful educational media or if its the damn tail wagging the media dog. In this industry, the only God is the one you keep in your wallet.

Transcendence

noreply@blogger.com (Abu Jabu) — Tue, 05 May 2009 00:17:00 +0000

Somehow he knew it was just a matter of time. Then again, he already knew there was something terribly wrong a week before when the lab results came in and he noticed the whispered conversations, the unshed tears and the poignant tenderness in the touch of his loved ones - almost as if they were etching every moment in their souls.

He was finding it hard to breathe, much more to talk. Out from nowhere, a muted sob escapes his lips and a single tear rolled down his cheek. Not because of the innate fear of what's to come but because of the deep regret that comes with wishing things could've been different, that he could've done more, loved more or could've spoken the words that would now be forever unsaid.

In the twilight on his conciousness he hear his wife praying for him and his children whispering words of love and goodbyes. With all his heart he wished he could all hold them in his arms one last time.. with his last breath he prayed they will be alright.

It was time...

Slowly, his conciousness ebbed until it was all but a flicker of light. He felt himself drifting into the vast nothingness that inhabits the world of dreams. His thoughts begin to fragment, one by one, all his memories flashed before his eyes before disintegrating into the void and soon enough, even his very concept of self was lost in a fine mist of thoughts and memories.

Like tiny bubbles in a fast flowing stream, the fragments floated. For what seemed like ages, these bits and pieces journeyed among other bubbles scattering, tumbling and merging in the turbulent flow. Finally, the river of fragments empties itself into a vast ocean. There they slowed, settled and finally recombined..

Light...

It was the first spark of conciousness - like waking from a deep restful sleep yet more so. And in that first moment, self and all the fragments of memories recombine from the bubbles in the froth. He opens his eyes and is flooded by a sudden gush of awareness. It is as if his self permeates the whole of the vast ocean, as if he was one with the flows, the tides and the froth. He is an entity unbounded by physical dimensions and yet one with the whole. He has never felt more alive before.

Welcome home..

A voice from his childhood and yet no words were spoken. He sensed a multitude of selves welcoming, enveloping him and merging with his own. Fragments crossed the divide and suddenly he knew who they were..

His mother whom he has not seen for almost 20 years, his cousin and childhood friend, his brother in law who preceeded him not a year ago, his friends, aunts, uncles, friends and everyone else he had known, loved and said farewell to in his other life.

They enveloped him and his core was suffused with a deep glow of contentment. This time though there were no physical barriers between him and their multitudes of conciousness - all their thoughts and feelings crossed from one awareness to the other without dilution. It was a perfect union of entities and selves.

...What is this place?...

...It is a stream of conciousness unbounded by space and time. A creation of downstreamers far into the future that reaches into the furthest past.

The question was anwered almost at the same time it was asked..

Every mind that has ever existed and that has ever been freed from its physical confines are brought here - a vast network of interlinked minds spanning every world, every time and every dimension of our universe. Here we are whole, we are at peace, we are one...

And so it was, without the need for pretensions, misleading words, insecurities and hidden intentions so common in the physical world, he began to experience perfect tranquility for the first time in his life. With the purity of union among other entities and the conciousness stream, he began to understand the true meaning of happiness and meaning. He has found life in its purest form.

The stream is an unbroken loop of minds that threads the most remote past to the furthest future where people are born free from physical bodies and are introduced directly into the stream. It is connected to the physical world only though the different manifestations of energy.. Thoughts, dreams, radiation, matter.. Through which everything from the formation of stars to the unfolding of time is connected.

Interlinked conciousness and life using the very fabric of the universe.. It is to be the final step in the evolution of man and his technology and his quest for the fullfilment of an eons old faith. A future folds into the past to extend Redemption.. Eternity.. Peace..

He thought of the family he have left behind and his attempts of direct communication through the physical barriers of the human brain. He fleetingly feels a deep sense of regret and loss.

But in this place where one human lifetime is but a drop in the glorious infinity of the stream, he would wait..

And when he opened his eyes, he smiled..

Welcome home...

Most Popular End of the World Scenarios in Movies

noreply@blogger.com (Abu Jabu) — Sat, 02 May 2009 21:49:00 +0000

There's something about end of the world stories, books and movies that tickles the imagination of morbid people all around the world - almost as if we're all anticipating and waiting for the proverbial axe to fall just so we can start breaking open those popcorns and have a seat on the front row.

In fact, stories about the end of the world were favorites even during ancient times. The aztecs, summerians, egyptians, american indians and quite a number of other ancient [even modern] cultures speaks of a great flood that consumed the world. The Christian book of revelations speaks about a second coming, aztec drawings speak of the coming end of the world through fire [date is 2012] which interestingly corresponds to a scientist's prediction of a massive solar flare [my sister says this was on yahoo news] and I predict that an alien civilization will make earth its dumpsite and bury all of us under galactic poo.

And since there's nothing much to do right now than to listen to the raindrops patter on the roof and down to our floor [yes, our roof is only designed to block sunlight, not rain], I've decided to jot down the most popular end of the world scenarios that have ever shown on cinemas or got printed on books:

1. Earthbound Asteroid
[deep impact and armmageddon]

The proverbial galactic shit hitting the fan [or in this case, our planet]. A big massive ball of rock [Mr. President, its the size of texas] is headed towards a head on collision with earth. Its an extinction level event, or so the movie says where everyone dies except for the bacteria that inhabits the thermal vents beneath the earth.

This scenario is one of the most popular for several reasons. A. Destruction Galore as the great ball of fire crashes down to earth in a spectacular explosion [it even crashes smack in the middle of a big city even though the odds are against it for better effects]. B. Killer Tsunamis: those that didnt have the luck of being on the impact site gets to drown in the killer tsunamis that follow. [the waters recede first and people flock to admire the exposed seabed before realizing the biggest mistake of their lives]. C. Slow Death: As icing on the cake, people who are unlucky enough to survive the first two get to die a slow and horrible death as the dust covered athmosphere triggers an ice age and people starve to death.

2. Super Virus
[Resident Evil, The Happening, Outbreak, Rainbow Six and I am Legend]

Another recurring theme that uses a runaway virus as a premise. In this future, cosmetic and beauty companies fall on hard times, everyday is halloween and human sushi gets added to the menu.

3. Robot Rebellion
[I Robot, Terminator and The Matrix]

Robots rise up against their human masters and take over the world. Strange but in all the above mentioned movies, the central characters somehow needed to show their naked butts - maybe this is relevant in some way to the central plot - I don't know.. You can notice this most easily in the Terminator series where you get to see how Arnold's butt ages over the years.

Going back to the discussion, the robots, using their undisputable logic, finds humans too complicated and confusing to live along with, so they made them a. Batteries, b. Target practice and c. Sentient pets.

4. Extreme Weather
[The Day After Tomorrow, Judge Dredd and Waterworld]

Melting of the polar Ice-caps, desertification of the whole earth and raging global storm systems.. All caused by the wanton destruction of the earth by humans. In Waterworld, dry land has become a myth. In Judge Dredd, seas and oceans have become non existent and the law keepers have to wear cheesy looking costumes. In the Day After Tomorrow, Earth enters an ice age [which is not hard to believe since our weather has gone bonkers these past few years]. Again people have the option of a. starving
to death, b. freezing to death or c. Listening to stallone's mumblings.

5. Alien Invasion
[Independence Day, Titan A.E., Evolution, War of the Worlds, and Battlefield Earth]

Aliens pick up TV show signals from earth and come for a peek. After expending tremendous amounts of energy, travelling light years from their home planet and despite the fact that there are quadzillion other planets, planetoids, asteroids, comets and whatever between them and the earth that can be more profitably or efficiently mined, terraformed or colonized, they choose earth to be their next project.

For their stupidity, humans or in the case of war of the worlds, bacteria finds a way to circumvent and defeat their super advanced and high tech defense systems, thereby blowing them to smithereens.

6. The Second Coming
[Meggido, Good Omens, Hellboy and the End of Days]

Prophecy of the revelations in the bible come true and overpopulation triples twice over in the span of one night as Atilla the Hun, Genghis Khan, Six pack Leonidas, and billion others of our ancestors rise from the dead for the second judgement.

Of course, the movies dont ever come this far [due to budget constraints and special effects requirements]. The sky darkens, some people die but everything goes back to normal in the end.

7. Mutants and Monsters
[Reign of Fire, Godzilla, Xmen, etc]

Monsters and Mutants [yup, we're scraping the bottom of the barrel now] are also used to color end of the world stories. In the reign of fire, the world is overtaken by mythical fast breeding dragons from our past. Fighter jets that fly faster than the speed of sound, semi-sentient long and medium range radar guided missiles and all our advanced technologies are rendered useless by fire breathing, flying dragons - [why? Only the director knows], likewise with the impossibly fast giant lizard Godzilla who's biggest mistake was to come to America instead of the Philippines which he could've ravaged to his heart's content without getting himself killed [there would be nothing left to protect after the senate finishes their investigation].

Countdown to Chaos

noreply@blogger.com (Abu Jabu) — Sat, 02 May 2009 07:36:00 +0000

It's been raining non-stop for almost 4 days now and the weather station predicts than it will rain for about 4 days more. I've almost forgotten what it's like to see the sun and go through the day without hearing raindrops splattering on the pavement below. I've also heard that the water level of the river [which is just one house away from us] is almost at level with the discharge pipes. Streets are flooding, crops are drowning, the laundry is getting smelly and the roof, our roof, is on the verge of disintegrating. We've been running around here for the past two days or so doing water leak damage control as if we're in a fuckin' submarine or something.

"all hands to battlestations!! This is not a drill!!"

Worse of all, this is happening right smack in the middle of freakin summer! The weather stations are going bonkers trying to explain how in earth did 3 low pressure areas simultaneously develop over the country. They may not be saying it out loud, but I think the general mood is "Fuck It! Blame it on fuckin' global warming and let's go home!"

Well at least we don't have to worry about swine flu just yet. Or at least as far as we know. I wouldn't trust our government's ability to screen airport arrivals as far as I can throw myself. Hell, they can't even solve the traffic problem. So basically, we're just waiting for the axe to fall or the shit to hit the fan or whatever. And when it does, the numbers are against us surviving like Will Smith did in I am legend. More likely, we're going to be one of those ugly mutated pakershits who eat each other's toes for breakfast.

What exactly do we do in case this becomes a pandemic? O_o Do we:

A: Spend like crazy to stock up on food, medicine, cigs and other survival supplies and bar the doors? [as long as the internet connection keeps up, this isnt too far from any other day, he he, we're already hermits as it is]

B. Burn anyone who so much as sneezes or shows an elevated temperature?

Or

C. Head for the mountains along with sacks of canned goods and hope to God that Inday didnt forget to bring along the can opener?

Maybe the government will even contruct a Philippine Ark and decide who gets to go in through Pinoy Bingo Night..

Well at least, the Global economic recession will be a moot point by then, along with the issue of charter change, overpopulation, global pollution and the new plate number coding in Naga. He he

A Frat Story

noreply@blogger.com (Abu Jabu) — Fri, 01 May 2009 04:19:00 +0000

As with most things in my life, becoming a 'fratman' back in college was one of the many things I didn't plan or even wish for. In fact, if someone have predicted back in highschool that I'd be one a few years from graduation, I'd probably laugh out loud and challenge him to bet on his prediction. [just to be safe, I would have never studied in Manila]

There's just something about secret handshakes, initiation burn marks, whispered passwords and better yet, the fratman 'look' [the one that's supposed to convey danger, mystery and suspense to girls] that I find very cheesy and funny - like something that came out of a low budget action movie. Moreover, I can't even imagine myself acting all mysterious, and dangerous, etc. [jinggoy? He he he]

That's why when 2 of my highschool buds [botchok and chard] joined one of the hiphop fraternities [gangstas paradise played on the background while they were getting whacked by a paddle], I found myself rolling on the floor laughing so hard at their stupidity [they never told me any frat stories after that].

Little did I know that the same faith awaited me 4 years from then...

It was my second year in college and I was very active in our activist/regional org and the newest boarder of an all bicolano boarding house. Three of them were from the same engineering frat and one of them was my yosi buddy. Predictably, I was trying to convince this yosi buddy to join my org [so that I'll have a source of cigs in our tambayan]. He in turn, could convince his two other brods to do the same.

"I'll join your org if you attend our frat's orientation", he negotiated.

Orientation in our org was very much like a sale's pitch seminar wherein all the good points of the org was presented after which, the prospects are asked to decide if they want to move to the next level. If you only came for the free food, shame on you but that's ok. You can opt not to join and there would be no hard feelings.

It was with this notion that I agreed to his condition and went to the frat tambayan alone the next day to ask for my orientation.

God, these were scary looking people, i remember thinking as I walked towards the tambayan table. All were smoking, playing cards and glaring at me [they didnt know i was there for the orientation] for walking through frat grounds. One of them got up to stretch his hands over his head [which reached the ceiling easily].

I sat down [they were glaring a bit more fiercely now as they thought I was there to eat my lunch on their table].

"Hello, I'm here for the orientation"

"oh..." a pause as their minds undergo a paradigm shift. I would later on learn that prospects rarely come alone to the tambayan asking for an orientation.

Suddenly, there were welcoming smiles all over the table [which was a bit weird as they were intensely glaring at me just a few minutes ago], handshakes and introductions. After a few minutes of small talk and chitchat, some of them then proceeded to orient me about the frat - history, advantages of joining, comparison, etc, etc and I was nodding my head like the dog figurine on a car dashboard all throughout.

"so that's it" one of them says "now, we'd like to formally invite you to join our frat". Hands were suddenly out and I got the vague feeling that shaking them would mean yes and seal my fate - which I had no intention of ever doing now that I got my orientation.

Uhhhh... I'd like to think about it first if you guys don't mind.. [a preset safe answer to wiggle off the hook]

"That's ok", one of them smoothly says "seeing as we were not able to give you a formal orientation/presentation, we'd like to invite you to one instead - a deeper discussion of the things said here.

Again, those smiles which activated the self-preservation alarms in my head..

Uhhh... I don't know... I trailed off..

"It's nothing", he hastened to assure me.

"Just a few drinks, a more indepth discussion of the things said here and that's it"...

Expectant looks...

"hooookaay..."

Followed by handshakes and more of those eerie smiles all around..

Remember all those persistent salesmen that somehow convinces you to buy things you didnt even plan on having or didnt even like? Or religious org members too nice to refuse then you somehow find yourself in gatherings trying your damn best to pretend you had the gift of tongues?

I should've known.. The smiles were those of a cat that swallowed the canary..

And with my "hoookay..", I sealed my fate..

There was no turning back after that.. And the consequences of quitting were much more horrible than that of just bearing the initiation and final rites [I've always wondered about the traumatized guys in school being roughed up, spat upon and bullied in cr's and hallways, it was then I found out that they were frat quitters]. In the world of fraternities, you stuck to your word regardless if you said it while you were stinking drunk or half concious from all the beatings.

O well, I'd rather do the spitting than be the one spat upon...

And just like that [several months of torture], I became a fratman..

Not that I ever regretted it. I remember reading something scrawled by a jaded soul on a bathroom wall in UP that says something about nobody in this world dying a virgin, Life fucks us all. It may be so, but even then I think we all still have the option of learning something even when we are on our backs while life humping us on the ground [which reminds me of the time I joined the ROTC officer's Core Platoon when I was just a freshman but that's for another story].

It was in our frat that I learned much about how to handle people and projects, how to manage disputes and embarked on my first forays in the world of business.

Of course, I also managed to learn a good deal about frat wars, handling neophytes and of course coping with the ever present mysterious, dangerous, brooding, intense, etc, look that most brods put on with their fratshirts.

Thank God there were no secret handshakes or a Gangsta's Paradise background music though, he he

Some Less Discussed Mysteries in Life

noreply@blogger.com (Abu Jabu) — Wed, 29 Apr 2009 04:15:00 +0000

10 am... Still in Bed.. Its a butt freezing / gonads shrinking kind of day in the middle of summer. Waiting for work and pondering on some of the unsolved mysteries of life while at it. Some of which are as follows:

1. Brittle Plastic Utensils

Don't you just hate plastic utensils that break very easily when eating? I mean, what's the use of making plastic eating utensils that are softer than the meat we usually eat?

2. Headset with one chord longer than the other

I hate using my phone headset. Somehow, I just cant figure out how to properly use them what with the other chord much longer than the other. Used to be, headset chords were equal in length and simple to use. Now, I have to decide which of my ears are farther from my neck.

3. Booksale with disorganized and hard to reach books

And what's up with booksale? Why sell books, all the while making it harder for bookworms to find the books they want in the cluttered, disorganized shelves? You find Sci-Fi books scaterred all over the place, historical books among romance pocketbooks and murder and mystery books among everything else!

Somethings you even have to crouch near the floor and dig through the books stacked near the bottom of the shelf. Or move the blocks of book from one place to another like a damn rubik's cube just so you could see what's behind or below.

I hope they realize how much potential sales they are losing all because of their sub-optimized, poorly designed bookshelves.

4. Pubic hairs in the public urinals

One of the things that perplexes me most in comfort rooms for males... Why.. Are there bits of pubic hairs in the urinal? How did it get there? At first, I thought it was a natural consequence of opening and closing zippers when peeing, but seeing as I've never experienced hairs being ripped from there when I zip up or down, I quickly disregarded this idea. Then I thought, maybe these were pubic hairs that have been pulled loose while walking around the mall and have escaped the mothership when we pull down our briefs to pee. No such luck.. It never happened to me.

Which sets me thinking of a weird but probable hypothesis [someone once said that in the absence of any other plausible explanation, the last remaining theory, no matter how far fetched or weird it is, should be the truth]. Maybe there are guys that have this weird habit of pulling pubic hairs from their wieners right after they pee. Kinda like a tip to the faithful urinal or perhaps a marker that says to the next person - I was here. So in effect, they zip down, pee, wag their motherships to check for any stowaways, and think - almost forgot, got to leave some pubic hair for the next guy. Thus, the thick, short and curly hairs on the urinal. o_O

5. Brief Flaps

Which reminds me of another thing I've been wondering about since gradeschool.. Why are there flaps in men's briefs?? In fact, as I am writing this, I took out one of my briefs again just to be sure. It's composed of two thick pieces of cloth overlapping each other over the main area. There's this space upfront where you can squeeze in your fingers and reach the other side. What is this for?o_O

An alternate route perhaps? But i've never heard of someone who prefers bringing out the goods this way.

Extra adjustment space? Maybe the one-eyed snake is supposed to go this way during periods of agitation and periodic lengthening? Kinda like a doorway to the outside world.

Or maybe, this design is for those who use both sides of their briefs before washing them [had this type of boardmate back in college]?o_O so its one flap for Monday and another one for Tuesday - a go green option for briefs, he he

So there you go... If you can shed some light on the above mentioned life questions, it will be very much appreciated.^_^

The Multi-Millenium Bug

noreply@blogger.com (Abu Jabu) — Sun, 26 Apr 2009 04:00:00 +0000

When Adam complained to God that he was lonely in his paradise, God, in his infinite wisdom, chose not to give him a laptop with an internet connection, a playstation or a wii, some movies to watch or some weed to smoke. Instead, he gave him a woman.

Perhaps God knew that as soon as Adam grow tired of his little toys he'll come complaining again and again asking for bigger toys and newer versions [a perpetual pain in the ass]. And so instead of giving him something to be entertained about, God gave adam someone who will plague his existence to perpetuity and keep him on his toes. Adam will then be too busy thinking about keeping his sanity to think about petty things like entertainment.

And so it came to pass, Adam got kicked out of paradise because the woman was too curious about the one thing forbidden to them, Samson became a slave because of a woman barber, John the Baptist lost his head because of a woman's bday wish, The Great Wall of China [one of the most massive engineering projects even to this day] became the Great Useless Wall of China all because of a woman who seduced a Chin General guarding the gate, and President Clinton lost his job because of the a woman and some transactions that occurred under the table.

Even now, in the apex of scientific achievement, in the age of space flight, nanotechnology, robotics and genetics, men are no closer solving this multi-millenium bug infecting his system. A few woman mysteries are listed below:

1. The Comfort Room Vigil

What happens to a woman when she enters a comfort room? Why do they take so long in a very simple task like peeing? Do they pray the rosary or perhaps play a game of bridge? Are there additional protocols and security clearance checks in the girls' CR? Or when they say they have to pee, do they really mean they have to pee, brush their hair, fix their make-up, adjust their tampoons, pluck their eyebrows, paint their toenails etc, etc? For men, who spend 60 seconds on the average when they pee, this is utterly baffling.

2. The Xmas Tree Boyfriend

Women bring a lot of widgets and doodads when they go outside. Face powder, lipstick, make-up, sunblock, hair brush, hair spray, mirror, eyeliner, wallet, cellphone, etc, etc, etc. The perplexing thing is, women's fashion ignore this basic habit when it comes to designing women's clothes. All they have come up with are pants' pockets that are too small or too tight to carry anything, even a damn cellphone!

On the other hand, the only thing men carry when they go outside are their car keys, wallet and cellphone. Interestingly enough, men's outdoor shorts or pants are full of extra pockets which we dont really need. That is.. Until... The woman hands over her widgets and doodads! Then you look like a fuckin' xmas tree bulging full of things you wouldnt want to be caught dead carrying! [i think a woman designed these shorts].

Oh yeah, some women will defensively say that they have handbags for these things. Riiiiggghhttt... Look around the mall and see who lugs these handbags as well as the other shopping bags around.. He he, women's handbags should be designed for men.

3. Tubes, Miniskirts and High Heels

Only women are willing to wear clothes and shoes designed to make them feel uncomfortable. [this maybe a part of eve's curse for biting into the forbidden fruit - a genetic coding hardwired into women’s' brains that predisposes them to masochistic fashion]. High heels that squeezes the toes towards the front [some turn blue] and slips into sidewalk cracks. Tubes that are always in danger of flipping/sliding down and turning you from a tease to a pornstar [sayaw tayo!!] so you always have to pull them up. Miniskirts that are always in danger of hiking up and exposing what's only meant to peek so you always have to pull them down.

4. Havaiannas Craze

Speaking about fashion.. What's up with them sandalbida looking outrageously priced rubber slippers??? Is this a modern The Emperor's New Slippers kind of story? Women walking around admiring each others rubber slippers as if they are a totally new invention or something?? What's happening here?? First it was bottled water [something that was totally free before], then it was lactacid [ a feminine wash that supposedly acts like a soap??], pretty soon we're all gonna be walking around with a tank strapped on our backs, admiring each other's bottled air.

5. Reflective Women

Not all women do this, but I've noticed a growing percentage especially among young women in the growing gimik strip along magsaysay ave who seem very fond of looking at their own reflections in car window tints, storefront glass windows, pillar surfaces, stall mirrors and just about anything that would give them a decent reflection of themselves - even puddles of water!

So in effect, you see masses of moving women, pausing now and then in front of anything that reflects light adequately, turning their heads just the right angle, sucking in their cheeks and making goo goo eyes at the reflective surface. They then move on to the next reflective surface and do everything all over again.

O_o

Sometimes I wonder if the flood of microwaves, cellphone signal waves, radiowaves, wifi and bluetooth signal waves is finally taking its toll on the gray matter in our brains, especially the young.

Heck, they've even started to populate friendster with these googoo eyed puckered lips Zoolander pose thanks to the miniature cameras on their phones. If God created us in his own image, he must be grimacing from all the friendster and myspace pics he has seen recently.

Some say that at some time in the future, men will finally be as powerful as gods - capable of bending the fabric of space and even capable of unraveling the fabric of time. Maybe then, they'll go back to Adam and give him his weed or playstation or something. he he he

Happy Marbles III

noreply@blogger.com (Abu Jabu) — Sat, 25 Apr 2009 13:10:00 +0000

some more additions to my happy marbles post...:)

1. The Clay Dick

The incident happened way back in Grade 6 - a time when most girls in our class were still in the dark on what a male genital looks like. It was class break and the girls were huddled in one corner of the classroom swapping [what else] gossips about the girls not present in the group. We boys were also huddled in the opposite corner busy fashioning a real looking dick out of flesh colored clay [even the nerves were detailed].

Upon completion, one of the boys in our group unzipped his pants and stuck the clay dick inside [just so that most of the apparatus was hanging outside]. He then proceeded to walk towards the girls' corner as if nothing was amiss.

"Hey Girls!" He called out in a singsong voice.

The girls turned somewhat in unison irritated at losing their gossip thread. Then, upon seeing the monstrosity that they never expected to see a. During a gossip session. B. Inside the classroom during class break. And c. Hanging just meters from their face long before they even had their first kiss, absolute bedlam broke!! Girls were scattering like cockroaches before a glaring light. Some stood rooted to the spot, their eyes as big as saucers and their mouths uttering incomprehensible gibberish. Some covered their eyes but were peeking through their fingers. Some were scrabbling over desks like demented women, crying because of the trauma of seeing the ghost of xmas future [ha ha ha].

But the best is yet to come. He he. Somewhat fascinated at the fleeing traumatized girls and bored at flashing the clay dick at the oogling girls left behind, this boy proceeded to tear out his clay dick from his pants and hurl it towards the fleeing girls like a damn grenade!

The fleeing girls screamed even louder and some almost fainted at the sight of a detachable flying dick - their brains unable to comprehend the logic of how a dick can suddenly come flying out from the pants like a sidewinder heat seeking missile.

We didnt need to go to the canteen for snacks that day. All our tummies were almost bursting from the excess air we got from laughing our hearts out. He he

2. The Pebble in the Sky

A year earlier, one of the girls in our class was being teased about the hairs growing in her armpits [how the fact was discovered, i don't know]. Anyway, me and my friend was just about to go home, walking over the freshly cut grass of the school lawn when we chanced upon this classmate.

"Hoy!" My friend mischievously called to the girl. Upon which he proceeded to stuff the freshly cut grass into the armpit hole of his school uniform.

Maybe it was because of all the teasing she has been suffering all day long because of a perfectly normal puberty stage she was going through. Or maybe it was because of the incredibly tasteless [ and funny ] portrayal or her armpit bush.

This girl screamed, picked up a large sized rock and threw it in a parabolic arc. My friend and I were laughing at her futile and frustrated attempt [she was quite a distance from us and there was no way a girl could hit a target that far].

When suddenly...

Wwhhaaacckkkk!!...

My friend got hit squarely on his forhead. It was no small whack either. I mean, you could almost hear the rock cracking his skull and rattling his brain inside.

Next thing I knew, my friend was down on the ground, blood gushing out of his head while I just stood there staring stupidly at his writhing form. I heard later on that it took several stitches to sew his wound close.

Score one for womens' lib I guess. He he

3. The Bodybuilder

A bodybuilding gym was then located next to our school, which I frequented every afternoon. Now, there were two people I remember most in this particular gym. One is a big, tall, professional body builder [who the girls were oogling whenever he was around] and the other one was a very short, stocky and heavily muscled regular who always felt he had to outshine this professional body builder whenever he came to town [I think he was building his body to compensate for his height].

One time, the tall professional body builder decided to use the very big and very heavy barbell used only for squat exercises. Even I was impressed. The whole thing almost weighed as much as me and he was going to use it for his benchpress set!!

1-2-3-4-5... A short rest, then... 1-2-3-4-5

I had to restrain myself from cheering along with the oogling girls when he accomplished this inhuman feat!

The professional body builder then prepared to return the heavy squats barbell to the appropriate spot when...

"pare, ako na muna / dude, i'll use it first"

said the short stocky man to the professional bodybuilder [perhaps he felt he had to assert his alpha male status in the gym or maybe he just wanted the girls to oogle him too]

Concerned [the barbell looked larger than him], I edged over closer to short stocky man and asked.. "pare, do you want a spotter?"

[a spotter is your insurance against doing something stupid in the gym like getting yourself crushed by a barbell that's too heavy for your muscles]

He looked at me as if insulted that I should suggest such as thing.. "nnooo.." he drawled, then beamed a smile to the oogling girls..

"well... Ok..." I said, then proceeded to complete my stretching exercises.

1-2-3-4-5.. Oho ho.. Little smurf got some muscle in them bones I thought as I watched the barbell rise and fall from the corner of my eyes.

1.... - 2........... -3...................

.........?

..................?

"pare... spot......."

a weak strained little voice called from the benchpress machine...

I looked over and there he was, straining with all his strength to keep the barbell from crushing him, all his nerves were visible, his bloodshot eyes were almost popping out and there were two lines of mucus running from his nose to his cheeks and towards his eyes...

It took all my strength not to collapse in laughter right there and then as me and several guys helped lift the big barbell off him.

Chicken or Egg?

noreply@blogger.com (Abu Jabu) — Tue, 21 Apr 2009 22:49:00 +0000

A game that every couple gets to play sooner or later in the course of their relationship. Unlike children games though, this game is not played to bring us closer, make us happy or to make us more loved. Its a game played to prove that we are right.

The game is simple: What came first? Chicken or egg? Choose your answer and defend it to the death. We can stretch our use of logic to the limit and sometimes even knowingly bend the truth. Failing this, we can use emotions, generalizations, suspicions and even intuition - just so we can defend our opinion.

Chicken or egg? We laugh at silly children games never realizing that they are infinitely better than our own.

Why do we spend more time proving we're right rather than working out what's wrong?

Why do we spend so much time remembering faults rather than forgiving them and starting on a truly clean slate?

Why do we spend so much effort in blaming others rather than reflecting on our own faults.

Why do we find it so hard to remember what we have and yet find it so easy to remember what we dont?

Why would we rather hurt ourselves than compromise our pride?

Why would we rather be alone and miserable than say sorry?

In the game of chicken and egg, everyone loses - families break apart, once loving relationships are laid to waste and sensible solutions discarded in the name of the unchangeable past. As the song in the Movie The Lord of War goes, nobody's right and everybody's wrong.

So what came first? We laugh at this silly question and yet fail to see the silliness of its equivalent in our relationships and everyday life.

They Were Fathers

noreply@blogger.com (Abu Jabu) — Tue, 21 Apr 2009 06:52:00 +0000

* something I wrote for my cousin who also lost her father last year

Perhaps its in their birthdays that we miss our fathers the most - not on their death anniversaries, not on new years and not on father's day - but their birthday. Maybe its because this day is specially his and unlike during holidays where people go around greeting other people merry xmas, happy new year, or happy father's day, you know your father would've woken up feeling just a tad more special than usual today - this day, afterall, is only his. He may not say it out loud, or even confess to expecting anything special today but you know that deep inside, he's holding his breath, waiting for a reaffirmation of how his much life has touched yours and because we love them, we strive to bridge that expectation and more than anything else, strive to make them feel cherished, more so this day than any other day of the year.

It could be as simple as a phone call, asking him about what he's doing and how his life is going. It could be as quaint as a little package of simple things that has traveled halfway around the world. It could be as nice as a simple day together. Or it could be a surprise birthday party arranged through long distance calls to relatives close by.. It could be any or all of the above mentioned things and more. The only thread unifying everthing is the need to show love, pride and appreciation for everything they have given to us.

For the months they have spent lonely in faraway jobs just so they can bring home something to pay for our schooling. For the Christmases where they had to loan the money just so they can put something under the tree. For the little pats on the back, the little games and special day outs together when it was so obvious he needed the rest more. For being there during the crossroads in our life, trying so hard to be positive, supportive and unafraid when deep inside they quake with second thoughts and fear. For finally accepting us as grown ups and as friends.

Being a father is indeed not one of the easiest jobs on earth and it certainly isnt one of the jobs most appreciated or understood. Too easily, fathers are misunderstood as too hard, too strict, too uncaring or too demanding and more often than not, children grow closer to their mothers than their fathers.

Only when we grow up do we finally begin to understand the burden and responsibility of being a father. Providing direction and a future when they themselves sometimes do not know where to go, providing strength and stability when they themselves are sometimes about to give up, giving us Christmases to remember and taking us to vacations when they can oftentimes ill afford to do so.

Every father indeed has his own story, his own mistakes and his own regrets. We love them not for the actual things they have given us nor for the things they have done right, but given the things we have learned the hard way as we ourselves grew up to be adults or parents ourselves, we love them for simply giving fatherhood his best shot and for never giving up on his job although sometimes they may have wanted to leave everything behind. And oftentimes, that is enough.

Yamashita Treasure: the hunt for the fool's gold

noreply@blogger.com (Abu Jabu) — Mon, 20 Apr 2009 03:40:00 +0000

Nobody talks about it much.. Especially the families involved or were involved but the hunt of Yamashita's gold pervades the whole spectrum of our society. From the richest to the poorest, from the most educated to the least and from the highest in political offices to ordinary people like us. Hell, even Marcos and Mac Arthur was involved in its hunt more than half a century ago. I guess there's just something about the thought of bars of gold that rewires our brains.

Right this moment, I'll bet there are hundreds of pinoys all over the nation digging somewhere and everywhere, playing Nicholas Cage's role in National Treasure. I'll even bet that some of these were or even are your relatives or neighbors. Yup! Don't deny it! Almost every family I know has been involved or knows other families who were involved with this national past time at one time or another. In fact, just last year, a close family friend got heavily involved in it and another relative [separate situation] almost got snared. Upon deeper reflection, you can almost imagine the Philippines as a nation full of holes and mole like pinoys extending the network. No wonder we're in a sinking ship! He he

Anyway, if you're one of the un-yamashitad pinoys, you can easily spot these yamashita driven people by [of course] the holes they are driving into the ground. Admittedly, some will be on legitimate business but look out for those who have weak excuses like those digging a 'septic tank' out in the middle of nowhere, those who are suddenly interested in building a 'basement' under their houses, those who suddenly pour lots of money in a faraway 'construction site' or 'quarry', etc. Upon inspection, if you find the hole too deep and too narrow and the diggers too uncommunicative, chances are, you've found a Yamashita Hole.

And if you're one of those who'll get involved in this in the future [one never knows, he he], know these: Yamashita treasure hunts usually rest on two different premises. One is a 'treasure map' and the other one 'divine inspiration' from enchanted beings like nuno sa punsos or beings from the 3rd dimension [like kokey, he he]. The stories may differ but the techniques, the scams and the process are pretty much the same [watch out for these]:

1. The Map and The Seeker

Two of the most important components of a yamashita treasure hunt. A map [which should at least look old and should reflect how the vicinity looked like more than 50 years ago], so if you see mcdonalds or diversion road on the map, be on your guard. Do check the accuracy of landmarks too like trees, rocks and streams [they may have not even existed 50 years ago]

The map will almost always come with an old looking, tobacco munching seeker too [or a local guide]. He will be the one charged to fill your head with thoughts of gold, interpret the otherwise usual looking rocks and disseminate the 'colorful and mysterious' history of the area. Be on guard of plots and storylines that sounds too much as those written in pinoy komiks, he he. Ask yourself too why he didnt just dig it in the first place and built a mansion and a pool for himself instead of babysitting starry eyed treasure hunters like you.

2. The Gold Brick

Hand in hand with the old map sometimes is an authenthic looking gold brick [special effects]. The seeker may just let you take a peek at it [wrapped as it is in banana leaves or newspapers], sometimes he may even let you hold it. DONT get your hopes up too high! Most people fall for this scam because they WANT to believe its real Gold.

Keep your cool and don't get too excited. Pretend that you have experience in handling gold by:

A. Biting the gold bar: if its 18 carats and above, you'll see your teethmarks on the bar, if its 18 carats and below, you'll see your teeth left on the bar.

B. Putting some makeup or foundation at the back of your hand and rubbing it against the gold. The chemicals react with gold and turns the foundation a dark brown or gray color.

C. Drilling at a random spot in the gold bar and checking if the bar isnt just lead plated with gold. Of course, if its real gold, then its your problem how to get those drilled chips back in place.

D. Having the bar or sample undergo an acid test composed of nitric and hydrochloric acid [sometimes you can buy a kit from the local pawnshop or jeweler], gold turns dark brown in this test. Dont spill the acid on your skin else you'll be the one who'll turn dark brown.

3. The Registration Fee and Opening Rituals

At the heart of all scams is separating you from your hard earned money - thus the registration fee that you will have to pay upfront so that they can perform their rituals [offerings to the spirits who guard the gold], mining equipment, labor upkeep, tools, chemicals, etc, etc, etc.

While this may seem sensible at first. Consider that if the gold is buried in your property, it is THEM that should be paying you for the right to dig in your property and extract something of value. This is how oil, mining companies and power companies do it. They pay the property owners huge sums to let them use his property. On a last note, In all my years of studying mining eng'g, I've never heard of mining companies making offerings to spiritual beings before the dig either. Offerings to politicians is more likely, he he

4. The Magical Gold Detector Stick

You'll also see the gold detector contraption which is just composed of two sticks held by a person. Something that also wasnt taught to us in mining class. Seismic surveys, mineral tracer prospecting, or exploratory drillings maybe but two sticks for gold detection??? They could get rich just by selling those sticks to mining companies if that's true! Try to hide some gold jewelry in your pocket, stand close and see if the sticks will point to your crotch, he he

5. Mercury Rising

These people will also have you believe that you need to give some money so that they can buy some mercury, a compound they say that will point the way to the gold when poured.

Now, mercury may be one of the most misunderstood chemicals in human history [it has even been used as an immortality drink by a chinese emperor - he died of mercury poisoning, hehe] but it sure doesnt move over the ground and slides toward the gold when poured!

Mercury is a flotation chemical for gold - no more no less. It is applied to crushed rocks [not gold bars!] and acts pretty much the same way as soap suds in your washing machine. The gold particles [not bars] sticks to the mercury foam where they can be collected. Try hiding some jewelry in your pockets again and see if the mercury slithers up your pants, he he [run for your life if it does ha ha ha!]

6. The Mysterious Stone Markers and Rocks

Now and again, the diggers will also show you some rocks that they claim are markers that the japanese have left behind. Rocks with x indentations, large rocks grouped together, stone slabs with signs that say "slow down gold 20 meters ahead" or "ichiro the jap digger was here". Anything to convince you that humans have dug this way before. If you think about it, if we try hard enough, we'll always end up seeing what we want to see - a cloud shaped like a naked woman, a glimpse of our future in chicken entrails, lotto numbers in cow turd, etc, etc, etc. So do be wary when they show you these, show enough enthusiasm and they'll think of new expenses and stories to separate you from your dough.

7. The Layers and Japanese Traps

Mysterious rock layers, japanese traps, underground gas, spooky stories, all the works! Keep in mind though that since you're not going down that narrow, scary looking hole, who's to say that these stories are true?

Here's a tip though, if the surrounding area has been disturbed by a dig in human history, there should be a discontinuity in the rock layers in the ground where the original tunnel was, moreover, there should be at least some evidence that humans have worked there before like traces of timber supports, rock bolts, tools, straight edges, etc. If you see the regular top soil, sedimentary and bedrock layers, chances are, you're also digging a perfectly regular hole going regularly nowhere.

8. The Yamashita Diggers Depot

As I've said, all the works! He he, you'll be asked to chip in money for gas masks, detectors, wall support materials, timbers, helmets, spades, bulldozers, cables, cranes, boots, lamps, submersible pumps, etc, etc, etc, etc.

I've commented once to someone who was digging that I'll bet I'll get rich quicker by selling or renting out Yamashita Gold digging equipment, materials and supplies than by digging for one myself. I'll even offer discounts for those who rent the equipment in sets [manequins outfitted with miner get up will be displayed on the store front], and also offer mining seminars and training for labor, he he. The yamashita treasure hunter didnt appreciate the joke.

9. The 'Sliding' Gold and the Gold come back ' Choir

The gold bars fuckin moves and slides! This makes the dig a limited time offer and adds some urgency to your spending! I can almost imagine these people speaking like those weird men I see in TV home shopping networks. He he

"But wayt! There's morah! If you spend roiyt nowah we'll give you the gold bars for free!" "all these for only $2, 499 [your life savings]!! An amazing low low price for all them gold bars moving below your property!" "hurry! Else your neighbor grabs this amazing offah!"

Consider though.. If the gold bars are moving.. Then what use are the fuckin markers for??? More so the F*ckin Treasure map??? Do these markers move in tandem with the gold??? And why would the japs bury their gold in a place where they cant find it when they come back??

Ah but the gold can be made to stop moving and even rise close to the surface! All you need is to hire the services of a Gold Come Back Choir! They'll sing and they'll dance to get those gold bars for you.. This is the pinoy equivalent of the Indian Rain Dance and a more expensive and less interesting way to spend your money on dancers. I'll prefer a lap dance from a nice looking girl anytime, thank you. When I spend that much, I expect to ejaculate.

10. The Breakthrough, The Rope, and the Catch.

Now comes the funny part, he he. They'll say the Gold bars are already found and all they need to to is to tie a rope [not a heavy duty metal chain] around the box to lift it. O_o Why they just dont bring the bars brick by brick to the surface where you can sell it piece by piece and maintain cashflow and THEN buy a dozen dozers??!, I dont understand. Perhaps this is so that they'll have another reason to continue to suspense [ie, the rope broke - of course it will given the weight of gold bars, they had to cut the rope because authorities or bad people we're sniffing around the area, they can't bring the gold to the surface because selling it will attract attention, etc, etc, etc]

So for all their stories, their promises, your expenses and sleepless nights - all you're going to end up is a piece of rope peeking at the surface supposedly tied to the bars of gold [which you'll never see and cannot ever sell] and a couple more stories why you cannot get the gold or tell anyone about it to round up your yamashita experience.

By this time you'll be out of money [they always stick around till the very end] and out of further options. The Yamashita guide, the diggers and the dancers will move on to the next starry eyed yamashita treasure hunter. And the hole [with the rope peeking] will join the countless other holes all around the country that stands testament to our national stupidity when it comes to financial matters.

[note: i'm not saying that the yamashita treasure is a complete fabrication of some lambanog infused japanese soldier or komiks driven lolo, with the heavy infusion of scammers into this activity combined with the lack of scientific and historically accurate foundation of most digs, MOST yamashita treasure hunts have zero probability of success. And hard earned resources that could've sent the kids to school, built a business, cultivated a farm or earned profits as investments [all of which have a MUCH much higher chance of ROI] are drained through these 'dream' holes. Some of us would rather bet our hard earned resources as well as our family's future on low probability digs rather than trust and hone our own capabilities on CREATING wealth using our intellect and sweat.]

A Day at the Farm

noreply@blogger.com (Abu Jabu) — Sun, 19 Apr 2009 13:09:00 +0000

There's something very medieval at the sight of people harvesting the farm. For one, while the city is full of lights, cars and new technologies, the farm is basically still being harvested the same way they have been doing it for the past thousand years - using a sickle. Of course, nowadays, equipments adapted to the standard gasoline generator partly ruins my medieval reflections. There's also no animals such as carabaos or horses in sight, which is just as well. My experience in riding a horse when we went to baguio doesnt exactly inspire me to repeat the experience in the near future - i'm sure the horse feels the same.

Being here though, its very easy to imagine how it would feel like living back in the medieval period. Even time runs a little slower. Walking around with a sword in one hand, hacking away the heads of peasants who rub me the wrong way or dragging home any woman who catches my fancy, he he (not that I see any woman worth dragging home here).

Anyway, there they are. Backs bent to the rhythm of cutting palay stalks from the ground as I view them from the shade of a tree. The rice fields stretch beyond the horizon and I wonder - how did the nobility of distant times feel as they watched the massive span of their fiefs? Did they scratch their itchy legs as I am doing now? Did they also find it hard to find a proper foothold in the muddy ground or swear and cuss as the ants and a thousand other insects cralwing or flying took tiny nibbles from their body? It sure doesnt feel that noble to me.

Standing here for hours f*ckin baking in the sun scratching my legs endlessly while I wait for the harvested palay to be cleaned, watching little harvest processes and rituals repeat themselves over and over and over again. I can't help but understand why Game ka na ba, wheel of fortune and now pinoy bingo are some of the highest rated TV shows in this country. With a sun baked brain and battered body at the end of the day, can we fault these people if they have become masochistic? Choosing to empty their minds over the grating sound of a whiny-nasal voice of the TV host instead of resting in blessed silence?

Now the rain pours in buckets out of nowhere. All of us are forced to hole ourselves inside a tiny hut, the smell of a whole afternoon's labor emanating from the cramped bodies. What should've only taken 3 hours max now extends indefinitely into the wee hours of the night. God save me from the little flying cretins that comes after dusk and God save me from deodorantless people.

Tiny shelled creatures [kuhol], palay eating worms, palay eating rats, palay eating flying cretins, palay viruses and fuckin palay eating kids, these have become the new stuff of my nightmares. How I wish I can just post tesla coils, or automatic sentry guns on the boundaries of our farm.
"Hold! This is a private area! Identify Yourself!"

"ahi hi hi" - sound of palay eating kids laughing at the novel human contraption.

"this is your last warning! Stay back, stay away!"

"ahi hi hi" - palay eating kids don't understand.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Palay eating kids blown to smitherins.. Cretins eliminated.

Rain's over and the laborers prepare to go out into the fields once more. Its amazing how much work, time and preparation this simple product. And this is just one end of the whole process. From here, the palay goes to the rice mill [which employs a whole set of different labor and processes], from the rice mill to the market, from the market to grocery and sari sari stores, from the sari-sari stores to homes and from homes to septic tanks where the palay is mixed with meat and veggie bits. I remember my bus trips to manila where our bus would arrive at the south expressway at around 4am, just in time to catch up with the delivery trucks and jeeps loaded with bananas, chickens, pigs, rice, etc, all headed towards a hungry sprawling metropolis. Cut that supply for just one week and I can just imagine the riots that will result.

This in turn spins off another thought.. playing our own little parts to keep the cities fed and grinding, is the great metropolis a living thing too? It grows, takes in sustenance in the form of electricity, food and water, ejects waste in the form of sewage and garbage, AND is made up of different sectors playing synegistic and interdependent roles like the different organs, tissues, cells and bacterial colonies in our body that has decided to work together eons ago. Maybe someday people would volt in too to form different body parts of a new superhuman (kinda like Voltron). Form legs and feet! Form arms and torso! And i'll be the head.... NOOO! NOT THIS HEAD! (wiggle, wiggle, spit... Spit)He he he

So much for that... I think the stiffling heat is getting to my head.. O well, back to counting them sacks...

10 Guilty Pleasures

noreply@blogger.com (Abu Jabu) — Thu, 02 Apr 2009 03:59:00 +0000

1. Slicing Calluses from the Heel of my Foot with a Cutter. Bhenks recently gave me a gift that supposedly works like a cheese grater on calluses. I wonder how fried rice would taste like with skin gratings on top.

2. Watching Candle Wax Burn Grass - much better than watching forest or bush fires on TV. I remember watching in morbid fascination as the people flee and haul their possesions away from the big fire that consumed half the squatters area in Dagohoy, UP. I think I also bought a bottle of coke and some isaw on that occasion.

3. Ruining the Night Vision of Insensitive Drivers [those who drive around the city with their fuckin headlights set on high beam]. In fact, as soon as I have the extra money, I'm thinking of having extra strength headlights installed too - one that would burn through the retina and act pretty much like a flashbang grenade.

4. Burning Ants Alive with the Smoldering End of my Cig. [inspired by the movies independence day, the day after tomorrow, deep impact, etc]. I sometimes even do a voice over for the poor creatures [of course only when nobody else is around]

5. Ruining My Younger Sister's Day with Cucumber Slices [she hates the smell of cucumber]. This is a small revenge for her brainfreeze plots [please read my brainfreeze post].

6. Recommending Alcohol As a Disinfectant to Wounded Individuals and Watching their Reactions. Ehe he, talk about sadistic. In fact, I sometimes even fantasize about running around the hospital with bottles of alcohol in my hands, spraying every open wound I see. The screams of people in agony following in my wake complete with doppler effect. aaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaa!!!!

7. Remembering The Dark Looks, Mutters and Hisses of People as I insert myself at the front end of the line back in school. [while wearing a fratshirt]. 200 registrants and only 10 open slots. At first I was pretty uncomfortable doing this but believe me, you learn to love it and even come up with new variations with practice.

8. Watching People Run Screaming Away from a Flying Cockroach. Ehe he he, you can literally see brain matter scaterring everywhere as people run around in full panic - their primal instincts of fear taking over and crazed looks in their eyes. Now that's what I call a Kodak moment, he he he

9. Trimming my Fingernails with my Teeth. [sometimes I use the same method in trimming my toenails]. God protect our built-in Swiss Knife.

10. Watching People Trying not to Puke as I recount Stories of Blood, Feces and Gore at the Table. Ehe he, I always hold my breath for that magical moment where their eyes would suddenly glaze over, grimace shut, their backs would curve and the mouth drop open with the tongue sticking out while they run for their lives towards the comfort room. Hell, why do they always stay for the gory punchline anyways? He he

So that's it, My 10 guilty pleasures in life as tagged by Piebuko, he he. Bhenks, I'm tagging you too. He he

Controversial Views in Philippine Economics: The 7 Habits of Highly Defective Juans

noreply@blogger.com (Abu Jabu) — Sun, 29 Mar 2009 06:58:00 +0000

A lot of talk is being tossed around about teaching the average Juan how to fish. Just now, the government is spending dough to encourage out of work OCWs to go start any small business and the rural poor to raise pigs; local governments are busy teaching the local Juans to become Johns, the friendly customer reps.

Talk about the mythical finger in the dike. Maybe the basic problem with teaching Juans how to fish is that he just doesnt like to wade into the water. There's some really serious crap going inside the average Juan's head that needs to be eradicated before the government can hope to see the Juans earning their keep.

Just recently, I've been involved in some 'teach juan to fish' experiment. Sort of a supposed to be sustainable neo-activist project wherein the capital of the middle class will be combined with the labor surplus of the rural poor to produce what we call a win-win deal. The middle class gets to have a stronger investment vehicle (15% or more per month) rooted in easily scalable and short-term liquid investments like livestock and farm produce, while the rural poor partner gets to have a profit share in a high-potential venture.

The business model works - at least 2 batches of hogs have proven it. What didnt work however was the basic difference in ethical and financial values between the two social classes. As mentioned in my Tatsulok blog, what brought the whole thing down was not the lack of potential, capital or profits, it was the crap the was going on inside the average Juan's head, the most notable of which are listed below:

1. Pera Lang Yan (its only money) Hypocrisy

Juans like to pretend that money isn't as important as its supposed to be. The important thing, they say, is that their family is together - starving and miserable, yes, but together.

Well and good, the Church will say. There's one thing that they don't consider, however; it is the fact that this statement almost always crops up during drinking sessions among out-of-work men who are too lazy to go out there and find some productive employment. In reality, the statement actually means "working hard for the family isn't as important as its supposed to be. "

Parallel corollaries then are:

- When they need money (or rice, beer, or chocnut) you should fall all over yourself to lend them some. After all, money isn't supposed to be important to you, too, and you should be grateful for this golden opportunity to prove that you are not at all materialistic .

- They will not pay their debts - and you should not expect them to, because money is just money and helping others (by others, they mean themselves specifically) is just the right thing to do.

- Since money is not that important (even when their family is subsisting on one meal a day), therefore working hard is likewise unimportant. When they come to you for money, just give them what they want and shut the hell up.

2. Brawns over Brains

Since all the contribution they get to see from you is the start-up capital and your weekly visits, and they feel they are doing all the sweating and hauling, they get this weird notion that they deserve more than the share that they are getting - this after they have already agreed and after you have already poured in your time and effort to get the business off the ground.

This is why you hear laborers complaining about low standard wages and hear wistful thoughts about how the company's profits should be divided among the rank and file.

One thing they don't give enough time to think about, though, is where the capital came from in the first place. Certainly, WE didn't get it from slacking off in school or our jobs; WE did not get it from sitting on our asses under a coconut tree guzzling tuba while watching the carabao munch grass all day long.

Well, the 'capital' they are muttering about is a product of more than 15 years of investment in education and several more years of busting our asses off. Let them try sitting in front of our computer to see if they can earn P20 doing our work in a day. Let them try make our business show a profit and see if its the brain that is exploiting the brawn or if it is the brawn that is being exploited in the business that the brain has germinated. After that, they should choose which among the following they prefer: the brain splitting migraines, the gut-wrenching agony and the perpetual insecurity that come with any start-up business or the body aches that they've grown accustomed to.

3. The Right to Help Mentality

Blame the church and the movies for messing around with the Juans' minds. Now the Juans think that all they need in life is a sob story, a pitiful voice and an empty can for your charity.

No, I'm not talking about the old men and women who are too weak to work or even that crippled guy in the wheelchair. I'm talking about the kids that should be in school but who are too lazy to do so (or whose parents are too lazy to force the school issue), the able-bodied men who have time enough on their hands to play basketball in the afternoon and play hooky with their tropa, and women who look far stronger than us yet expect to be given alms just because they need the money. Go find some freakin' work or sell your organs for crying out loud! That way you'll either be productive or dead!

This is the problem in a nutshell:

WE have to work our asses off to bring home the bread.

However, these Juans only have to work on our psyche, bringing out to the fore our misplaced guilt about the supposedly good life we're leading, in order to bring home the bacon.

I think help should only be for those who not only want it but are doing something to help themselves. It should not be for those who want to spend their entire life making US feel guilty for something we have worked so dang hard to achieve.

4. The Hope in Redistribution of Wealth

This is a recurring lament of most poor people in this country. In fact, this is something I've heard often while drinking with Juans and riding in Taxicabs driven by some more Juans.

The redistribution of wealth - a noble cause especially if the wealth we're talking about is the one gotten through unfair means and the people to whom we are distributing the wealth are willing to take responsibility for that wealth. Unfortunately, while the "unfair means" part was satisfied, the "responsibility" part was mostly left unfulfilled.

Case in point: the agrarian reform program. Tracts of land were given to Juans so that they can finally have their own land to till. Government gave them free fertilizer and free seedlings, to boot. What happened?

I'll tell you what happened. Most of the Juans mismanaged their farm. They preferred drinking to farming or finding alternative ways to earn more money. They were reluctant to learn new economical farming practices (they did not see the sense in attending seminars). Thus, they ended up selling their tracts. What has become of them after that? They're back working for the original landowner, that's what, and they're back to lamenting about how good life would be if only they had their own land to farm. I say, "HUH!"

The following are more instances where the Juans have failed to take advantage of the opportunities given them:

Sow Distribution Program.
Government gave out free female piglets that can be grown and bred - the only condition being that Juan give back one female piglet to sustain the program - i.e. to be given to another poor family. Some Juans collected the maximum number of family members who could qualify for the program. Why? So that they could get more than just one sow, of course. They then promptly sold them all as soon as the government's back was turned. They spent the money on Jollibee and McDonalds, beer and gin, clothes, appliances like a TV and a DVD player, bets in Jueteng and lotto, or home furnishings like Orocan, etc.

When the money ran out, these Juans congregated under the mango tree to guzzle beer or gin, munch on peanuts or chicharon and complain about how the government just can't do anything right. After all, their Sow Distribution Program was an utter failure and the poor folks like them still had no livelihood to speak of. I say, double "HUH!!"

Government Housing Project.
UP bliss is a good example here. Government made housing units (2-3 rooms each ) for the poor people near UP Diliman. Poor people were very happy, but they were apprently happier going back to the slums. Why do I say this? Well, some Juans promptly sold off their new properties to the members of the upper and middle classes for paltry sums (which seemed inordinately large to them) who then proceeded to rent out the bedrooms or the units themselves to UP students and faculty members.

The result? The new owners made a killing: they made around P12,000/month from this arrangement. In other words, the new owners got high, residual income in return for their willingness to suffer a cash shortage now for future gain, while the poor Juans went back to living like they did in the good ole days - grumbling about lack of money and government support and lamenting about the fact that they do not have their own home. I say, triple "HUH!!!"

Need I go on? Ayn Rand knew what she was talking about when she said, "Money will not serve the mind who cannot match it."

The only thing that will result from redistributing your wealth to these kinds of Juans (I'm not complaining about all the Juans, mind you), is the creation of more parasites that will bleed our country dry. Oh and by the way, this is probably not bound to happen anyway.

5. Jackpot / One Time Big Time Mentality

Jueteng, Lotto, Sabong, Pera o Bayong, Deal or no Deal, Wheel of Fortune, and of course Yamashita Treasure…

For most Juans, the one-time, big-time deal is the only deal there is in getting out of the hellhole of life. Everything for nothing.

This is the reason why you see Juans furiously betting on lotto or Jueteng while their families go hungry and their children stop schooling.

This is the reason why you see Juans on TV trying to stretch the rules of probability just because there is still a million pesos somewhere in those cases; as expected, these Juans end up going home with less than the cost of their fare in their pockets.

This is the reason why you see Juans digging their hearts out (and incidentally a grave for their hopes), hoping for that stack of gold bars the Japanese have supposedly hidden in our country more than half a century ago.

And this is the reason why you can still see a lot of poor Juans in our country today. We spend so much time, money and effort in low-probability bets that, before we know it, we have squandered away our means of getting out of the slums.

Imagine Juans spending their extra money on raising a piglet instead of buying a Jueteng or lotto ticket. A piglet will yield a mediocre return for their money (definitely not the rate of return on 10 pesos becoming millions of pesos in a lotto jackpot) and it will require 5 months of investment, too - but the fact remains that winning the jackpot in lotto is improbable while 9 out of 10 Juans who try hog raising are going to get a definite (and definite is the key) profit out of it. In jueteng, if one wants definite winnings, he will have to spend P1,170 to bet on 90% of the combinations (so he can get the same 90% chance) and get a measly return of P900.

Imagine Juans working like crazy, not for gold bars but working on all possible jobs so their children could have a college education. The probability of return on Yamashita Treasure hunts = probably less than 1% of 1%n – is more or less the same as the probability of a gold brick falling out of the sky and landing on your forehead or the probability of your wife suddenly laying golden eggs. On the other hand, what is the probability that a college educated child will be able to help his parents and alleviate their standard of living ? He he he, I don't have the numbers but I bet you it is much, much better than 1% of 1%n.

Two families of our two previous hired helps can attest to this. The members of one family spent most of their lives working on treasure hunts and odd jobs. The children stopped schooling mid-high school so they could be hired out for income, and the starting income for the children of this family is P1,500 monthly.

The members of the other family spent all of their time and resources on the children's education. The mother of the family approached the management of a private, Catholic school and volunteered to be the school's CR cleaner. All day, she is on her hands and knees scrubbing the many toilets in the campus. She does not get paid for this work, however. Oh, the sisters give her a hundred pesos now and then when they realize she no longer has money to buy rice. However, that money is incidental. What she's after is a future, not temporrary relief from hunger pangs. In return for her labor, all of her children can be enrolled in that school (elementary to high school) free of tuition. Right now, three of her children are enjoying free, private schooling and the rest of her brood will follow when they become old enough to go to school.

Of course, she and her husband will have to work all their life until all their children finish college. Their children are not earning money while in school. However, they know they are on the right path and are determined to stay on it. After all, her firstborn - a lovely daughter - went to college on a scholarship. She has recently graduated as an educ major. She now has a job offer. Her starting income? At least P10,000. It will be much more if she makes it to US as she plans. Right, it has taken this family more than 18 years to achieve this feat, but is it worth it? Oh yeah, and let's not forget that the laws of probability are on their side.

6. The End Justifies the Means

In line with the misguided notion that those better off have a responsibility to help them, some Juans feel that cheating their employers is just fine. After all, he’s already got loads of money hidden somewhere so he’ll probably not notice the difference.

There's one thing that they fail to consider, however. They don't realize that compromising the growth of the business will hurt him a lot more than his employer. Why?

If they were trustworthy:

a. the business could’ve expanded and their relatives could have benefited from the job.
b. they could have been entrusted with more responsibilities and thus given more pay; more cash than the occasional pilfered cash, certainly.

As things stand, if worse comes to worst and the business folds or they are caught, they would be out on the streets again competing with the masses for the same jobs.

The same thing applies to the Juans who get caught snatching cellphones or breaking into homes. Does need justify their action? Poverty does not give them the right to steal from others. After all, the fact that they can run like crazy and climb over walls means that they're strong enough to work. Regardless of their sob story, they just don't want to work, period.

7. The Poor Man's Inverted Law of Supply and Demand

A Juan working for us said that in their place, most people do not have jobs or have enough to eat.

"How do they live?" I asked him.

"Well, they depend on those who work," he said.

"Aren't there available jobs in town?" I asked

"Yeah, more than enough" he said. "There are lots of openings for busboys, waitresses, salesladies, etc." he replied.

"Why don’t they apply then?" I asked.

"They said the pay was too low," he replied.

WTF??!!

"Are they waiting for the wages to go up then?" O_o, I asked.

He just shrugged and laughed.

Law of supply and demand: The higher the supply in a constant demand market, the lower the prices will be.

How many Juans out there can manage a bank? Not many, that’s why bank managers are paid a lot of money.

How many Juans out there can hold a conversation in straight English? Hmmm, more than those who can manage a bank but definitely a lot less than those who can man a carenderia. Surveys reveal that only 6% of the applicants get accepted into entry level positions. This is the reason why the pay for call center agents is also nice (but not great).

Last question: How many Juans out there can serve in a carenderia, raise pigs, haul palay, or man a store?

Right! F*cking millions upon millions of them!

Now, how many does the country need? Not much.

Why then do these people act as if they are are soooo indispensable or soooo in demand??!! (manay jing, lala and mae please insert comment on top of KETCHEN WERE, he he he)

Get fired from your job and around 3 other persons will be willing to get hired for less than what you were getting; of course, there would be another 3 that will be content to stay at home and suck their working siblings dry.

That’s why the pay sucks and always will Juan...

That’s why the average Juan will always vote for trapos...

That’s why the average Juan will die chained to the land...

That’s why the average Juan will always be poor...

It is not because of corrupt politicians, not because of lack of national unity or pity, lack of employment and educational opportunities...

It is because of the lack of sound principles and values that have made other countries great.

Blue Moon

noreply@blogger.com (Abu Jabu) — Mon, 23 Mar 2009 00:35:00 +0000

I've never seen one but I know it is often used to describe something so rare, something that usually happens only once in our lives that the moment etches itself onto our souls. Now, I may have never seen a blue moon, or have ever found a four-leaf clover for that matter - but thinking bout it, life has instead graced me with some of these kind of moments I'll probably remember for the rest of my life.

Mental snapshots, I call them. For I take the time to remember everything I see and then close my eyes to remember the touch, the smell, the sounds of everything around me whenever my life transcends beyond everyday existence - I suck out the marrow of life so to speak, from the sweetest to the most bitter, from the happiest chapters to the darkest, from the peak of success to the precipice of utter failure.

Life, is never more vivid, than at the edges of its spectrum..

Like the comfort, smell and bumps of my own dorm bunk after 2 nights sleeping out in the field during ROTC training.

The taste of roasted meat after 5 days of canned sardines, instant champorado and pancit canton during a particularly bad college allowance recession.

The first noisy family dinner together after months of eating apart when it seems everything was lost but the family.

The taste of fast food and pizza after months of subsisting on cigarettes and carenderia leftovers as we try to get our house budget back on track.

The first hundred thousand in savings after years of agonizing over the long term viability and trying to push our online experiment onto solid ground.

The second chance that was given for us to say goodbye to our father after months of frustration and anger over his stubbornness.

The development of our first site after years of planning and frustration.

Several months ago, my sister and I were having this weird coffee conversation about humanity and its goal of perfection..

Cyborgs and the eradication of death.,

Time travel and the eradication of pain, regrets and mistakes.,

gene therapy and the eradication of physical discontent..

without the usual bumps, gridlocks, challenges and strife of everyday life, would we still recognize perfection for what it is?

Without tasting really horrible food, how can we say something tastes great?

Without experiencing illness, coughs, sprains, fevers and LBM, how can we say we feel great?

Without death, would life mean more?

Without mistakes, would success still stand for something?

Without pain and regret, would we still recognize happiness and second chances when it comes?

Without imperfections, compromise and forgiveness, would love still be love?

A blue moon..,

without one extreme of life giving meaning to the other,

would anyone even notice?

From the Frying Pan into the Fire

noreply@blogger.com (Abu Jabu) — Thu, 26 Feb 2009 00:29:00 +0000

...let NatGeo Take you to a place where conformity is a way of life and blind obedience a norm...

... Inside North Korea, saturday 9pm..

An ad about a NatGeo special documentary goes..

But for a moment there, before the country was mentioned, I was almost expecting a natgeo documentary about our chinese grade/highschool.

You see I've spent 12 years of my life in a closed system Chinese catholic school and in all my 12 years of study there, we've had a total of 2 new classmates who have transferred in from another school.

Needless to say, we had to make do with the same people and faces for almost half of our entire lives: 12 freakin years 8am to 5pm. The same girls we've seen from kinder pee or poo in their skirts became the same girls had our first encounters with love with and took to the prom. It was like a survivor series that ran 12 years long: 2 years kindergarten, 6 years grade school and 4 years high school.

The school graduation song even goes "recall the first time you entered school, you were barely 2 feet tall..

...Now look you've grown so tall"

I wonder if prison mates or residents of the gulag have similar versions of this song?..

Back to my story..

Our school were run by Chinese Catholic Priests with kung fu skills. Imagine karate chops, flying blackboard erasers and walking canes that suddenly transforms into wicked fighting sticks and you get the idea. Some local schools boast of student discipline. Well, of course, there is the Filipino definition and there's the Chinese one. Imagine a school where everyone moves around as if they were on the deck of Darth Vader's Star Destroyer - that's Chinese discipline. In fact, we even used to hum the Darth Vader tune (complete with Darth Vader's breathing sounds ) whenever we were in line and the discipline coordinator was moving around. We may not have CAT then, but we lived and breathed its essence everyday.

Regulation haircut for boys was the Jose Rizal hairstyle, for girls it was maria clara. Uniforms had strict length requirements, go a bit overboard and you just might find yourself in your briefs in some hole in the wall room furiously sewing your pants to regulation length.

Any form of intimacy was frowned upon. Holding hands in public was seen as indecent (kissing was porno) and going to a movie when on a date - a mortal sin. Thus you either wind up as a prude or a sex maniac in college, he he.

There were no student councils, no organized protests, no union, no school paper, nothing whatsoever that would serve as the seeds of a school revolution. If you had a complaint about how the school was run, you file for transfer to another one. As the borgs say "Resistance is futile". It was that simple.

Well, those 12 years have come and gone - along with 5 near expulsion incidents. Add 10 years more and I look back and sometimes wonder how it would be like to wake up one morning back in 1995 to the smell of an early breakfast and the sight of freshly ironed brown khaki pants and white polo?

How would it feel to attend the 7am flag ceremony, 8am-5pm classes especially the Chinese language subjects, take part in laboratory activities, first Friday masses, or the bedlam of recces?

How would it feel like to go back in time before bills, work, car gas, rent, medical insurance and baby diapers - when life revolved around allowance, love life and friends?

For all its drawbacks, somehow I miss the simplicity of school life.

This must be how Adam felt when he ate the forbidden fruit. ehe he he..

Practical Valentine's

noreply@blogger.com (Abu Jabu) — Tue, 17 Feb 2009 10:19:00 +0000

Thank God my puberty days are over and Valentines has settled to become one of those special but not nerve wracking, mushy but not corny, costly but not outrageously expensive holidays. Used to be, Valentines, was one of those potential landmine or jackpot day of the year. Girls would bring out their scorecards and guys would be all out prunning themselves like peacocks hoping to score some points - kinda like an unnoficial mating season special for the homo sapien species where the males put their best foot forward, shop like crazy for the mushiest gifts and prettiest flowers, spray themselves full with expensive perfumes, (some even buy a new set of clothes), and memorize/practice in front of the mirror those God-awful puke inspiring lines they've taken from some Valentine's card or romantic movie.

Trust me on this. This is not an exaggeration. I've been to enough college dorms and seen enough boardmates go through this painful yearly ritual to write a book about the subject. Most girls are not aware of it, but Valentine's for guys (especially the highschool and college ones) are worthy of complex battle plans, back-up strategies and complicated scenario building sessions - kinda like the entrapment operations you see in gus abelgas' XXX show or the CSI.

As with most valentine's battle plans though, the greatest flaw stems from the fact that most of the advice used to make such plans are given by guys just as naive as the guys using it. The blind leading the blind or so they say and the only ones ahead in the game are those who have helpful older (5 years or so )brothers or sisters (more effective), friends or those who are obsessive enough to have scoured the net for some ideas. Experience, after all is still the best teacher.

So for those who have read this far, here are some tips and things to remember for this year's Valentine Circus.

Note: the author will not be responsible for any break-ups, cool offs, or any other date disasters arising from following the advices on this post.

1. The KISS principle and Murphy's Law

Keep it simple, stupid, because according to Murphy's law, everthing that's bound to go wrong will indeed do. Valentine battle plans that involves a hundred balloons to be set free at the right moment, coordinated fireworks, doves, a thousand flowers and candles rarely take off without a hitch, moreoever unlike in Filipino movies, people don't clap their hands when you shout your love and kneel before your girl in public (this only happens in movies). You're more likely to elicit snickers and muffled laughter for your trouble.

So stick to easy to follow plans like a simple movie, a valentine's concert or a romantic candlelit dinner. Save the special moves for less stressful days (the flowers and balloons will be a lot cheaper then and you're more likely to catch her with her pants down - literally).

2. The Valentine's Pareto Principle

Their drills were bloody battles and their battles bloody drills.

Someone once wrote this line about Ceasar's army and its success. Same goes to any valentine's plan. The more you prepare and practice your lines beforehand (if you're still this corny), the less buckets you will sweat and the less you will stutter your lines come d-day.

Do recon the place you're going to eat in too. You wouldnt want to end up dressing like the waiters or wearing clothes the exact same pattern as the table cloth or wallpaper when the time comes.

While you're at it, check out the menu and the prices. Many a valentine's date have ended in disaster because the guy had to ask the girl to foot the bill.

3. Masturbate before the date

... that's something you don't see in valentine articles everyday. He he he. But according to my college friend, sexual tension is actually the cause of most date disasters. Guys tend to stutter while maneuvering the conversation towards more intimate topics, hands tend to shake, the senses tend to become overloaded and the brain drunk with endorphins.. Ergo you end up looking un-suave, uncool and unexperienced all because of unreleased sexual tension.

If you think this piece of advice is applicable to you and if you want to be as suave as Bond, James Bond on the Big night, please do it before you take a bath. You don't want to end up smelling like bleach all night long. Wahaha!

4. Surefire Topic for the Date

Many guys spend a lot of time obsessing over what he will say or talk about come the big date when the answer is actually very simple - Its all about her. Her favorite books, songs, diets, movies, brand of tampoons, tv series, etc, etc, etc.

So practice your 'I'm very interested in what you're saying even though i dont understand half of it' look and brush up your conversational skills like saying 'aaahhhhh', 'that's interesting', 'you're right', 'so what did you do?, 'serves her right' at the appropriate moments. Think of yourself as the character in the RPG games you're playing programmed to utter phrases at the click of the mouse.

"battlecruiser operational"

"valkyrie prepared"

"ghost ready"

5. Happy are those who dont expect too much for they will not be disappointed

This means, guys, dont expect scoring first base immediately after your expensive valentine's date. Oh I know you'll deny this outright but at the back of your mind, I know this is the capping stone in your Valentine's plan. Girls, if you dont believe this, check your date's wallet and 9 out of 10, you'll find a condom somewhere in it somewhat like a victory cigar (which you'll be smoking).

Don't let this thought become your date handicap! You wouldnt want to find your dick hanging out your pants on a false alarm! He he he. Focus instead on the mushy aspects of Valentine's and load up on all the mushy points you can get your hands on. Think of it as the bonus round where you collect all them gold coins to be cashed in later in the game. Hold her hand while crossing the street, open doors for her, read some poetry, etc. It's only a day! There are 364 days more for your diabolical plans. He he

So goodluck and good hunting. Remember that for this day, it's your primary head that should be doing the thinking. ^_^

Remember

noreply@blogger.com (Abu Jabu) — Thu, 05 Feb 2009 11:56:00 +0000

One cannot begin to describe the anguish of having 27 years of memories of having a father grinding to a stop in a single day. I have lived through this day a thousand times in my mind when I knew he was dying but no amount of preparation and acceptance could blunt the pain of final farewells to someone we love.

Things that once littered the house now serves testament to a presence that will never be shared again, the boots he used to bring to the farm, the tools he so lovingly kept, the folders he brought home from work, the sandals he used to wear.. are suddenly all that's left of a loving father who has graced our lives.

Life has to go on and in time they say that the wounds will heal and the memories fade. But in the tradition of the pharaohs and their pyramids, the Aztecs and their temples, the loved queen and the Taj Mahal, I hope remembrance will defy the finality of death and the passing of a life once lived. Let my memories serve as the bricks for my father's monument and cyberspace its foundation.

Kindergarten

I remember thinking when we could stop, pee and stretch our legs as we're headed to tiwi (3 kids and 2 parents) on a motorcycle.

I remember getting my ass whipped because we killed our pet turtle.

I remember us walking on our father's back because he says its back massage.

I remember learning how to write using the tracing paper he used to bring home.

I remember us falling in line so that we could have our turn being hand-fed by our father.

I remember papa crying because of frustration, his fists bunched at his sides because he did not want to hit mama.

Gradeschool

I remember papa and me skipping lunch because we had to finish Battle City, a Nintendo game.

I remember the weekends out where our whole family would eat Graceland pizza, Halo-halo and bartillos.

I remember the yearly summer trips to sorosogon, where papa could spend some time with his cousins and we could while away time filching pili candies.

I remember our family spending one summer near the beach in Tiwi

I remember Midnight, the black puppy papa took home from Tiwi.

I remember us falling in line so that we can take turns welcoming (making mano po) our father home whenever he comes home from work and kissing his cheek as he go to work early in the morning.

I remember some afternoons spent with him, watching reruns of Star Wars movies.

I remember Santa Claus, the stories of how we just missed seeing him, the letters in the tree, the new set of clothes for our xmas party and the gifts and noche buena at Xmas eve.

I remember the drives around the town as he toured us to see the Xmas belens and xmas lights of Naga City.

I remember us spending the night outside the house because he locked us out and he was mad about us coming home late.

I remember how we shop around for school supplies at the start of every school year. Glossy brand new notebooks all line up and a pencil case full of new pens inside the bag.

Highschool

I remember being kicked out the house because of not helping out in moving our things to another apartment.

I remember being surprised at him attending my YFC (youth for Christ) closing ceremony (a deeply emotional affair which he usually avoids).

I remember the family trips to the local cinema where we would wait for the last full show of the movie.

I remember him getting mad at me for spending too much time playing the Command and Conquer strategy game late at night, when he himself got so much more addicted to the same game when he tried it out. General Red.

I remember our solo trips to the cinema to watch Sci-fi films (contact, Star Trek, etc) because nobody else wanted to come with us. Also, I remember the sound effects he used to make as he tells the story over the table afterwards.

I remember the day when they finally dropped me off in my first college boarding house and how hesitant they were in leaving me there.

College

I remember when he came with me to Intramuros to help me gather materials for my first college report for my History class.

I remember the trips to the farm and how we would talk about crop yields and how big the farm was before. Mostly, I remember how we would just stand side by side looking at the farm in comfortable silence.

I remember the nights where I would travel from diliman to ayala just so i could sleep over in his airconditioned room, eat chef salad and watch movies with him in Glorietta whenever he was in Manila.

I remember papa trying to teach me how to drive and failing.

I remember us trying to hide our smoking habits from our father. His acceptance of the fact and our smoking sessions together.

I remember him playing the "strangers in the night" song in the organ and how Nasser sang along with it.

I remember papa waking me up very early in the morning, all dressed in running shoes and shorts, just to ask me if I wanted to jog and my grumpy reply.

I remember papa and me window shopping in a Glorietta toy store, drooling over a remote controlled helicopter.

I remember him convincing our mother to buy a PS1 console because we kids 'wanted' it when in fact, it was he who was itching to bring home the unit.

I remember him bringing home dance pads for our PS1, pretending to be bored, then dancing with us.

Post College

I remember him being very very smug for completing all the single player medals in Command and Conquer Zero Hour and how he challenged me to beat 3 brutal enemy armies.

I remember how shocked he looked when I beat him in his own strategy game when we played against each other over a local network. General Red Vs. General Gasparov. Since then, I teased him by asking if he would like to play against the most brutal of armies.

I remember our trips together to the massage parlor and how he would complain about the sadistic masseuse afterward.

I remember how manay jing used to tease him with an ice cube (he jumps when touched by cold objects).

I remember our weekend Badminton games with lala and bhenki where we would spend one hour or so sweating and feeling smug about our rare exercise sessions.

I remember eating out or having coffee with bhenki, mama and papa late at night everytime we withdrew our salaries from the bank.

I remember the coffee conversations, the political debates and discussions about the Iraq war. I remember how he used to say that the war would've been long over if we just nuke the talibans.

I remember how he would holler when our favorite shows in discovery channel are shown, future weapons, mission to mars, etc and how he would launch into a full blown commentary during the show.

I remember his hyena-like laugh, where his eyes would all crinkle up and his hands would slap at the table as we joked about out of this world scenarios like tia caring doing the matrix or a high tech fortress like house or state of the art yacht during a world famine.

I remember how his eyes twinkled at the mention of 'picha', nachos, chef salad, marigoso salad or 'burjer'.

I remember how fascinated he was with our online work and his suggestions.

I remember him sneaking foodstuffs and fruits in my shopping cart as i do the monthly grocery, my mock exasperation and his sheepish grin.

I remember him bringing home the very first piglet for our hog raising venture.

I remember his stories about how Lola made her fortune and about how he also decided to finally take life seriously and work hard when he had his own kids.

I remember how we used to plan how we would renovate our home and apartment.

I remember his wind powered water pump project and how we used to discuss how to make it work.

Post stroke

i remember how hard i prayed to God that papa will be ok as i waited for a ride home, how i almost fainted when the doctor said that they might have to drill a hole in his head and how happy i was that he was able to recover his movements days after his stroke.

I remember him promising me that he will be fine in time for the harvest and discussing with me how to manage the farm.

I remember being so mad at him at insisting on a cig, how i pushed and shouted at him after slapping the cig stick from his hands and how he quit afterward when given one pack.

I remember being so mad at him and avoiding him for not exercising to regain his strength and focusing instead in wanting daily body massage.

I remember dragging him back to his room when he tried to slap the wires with a stick during an electrical failure.

I remember him having his second stroke, the doctors report of an undiagnosed cancer and the low hopes of the doctors for papa surviving the year.

I remember papa asking me to teach him how to pray the rosary after his last confession.

I remember writing papa a text message hoping that he'll find happiness and pride in the life he'd lived and to forgive me for focusing on my fears instead of the love we all have for him.

I remember having high hopes with the herbal medicines delivered from manila.

I remember spending time with him, massaging his tired arms and legs, helping him sit up, listening to his mp3 music and trying to memorize every aspect of his face, hoping against hope he feels the love and concern i have for him even without words and that it was not too late for him to recover.

I remember him dying on a Thursday night surrounded by his family whispering their love and their prayers in his ear, how much they are proud of him and how much he means to us...

I remember him strong, his expression wakanga, the sound of his footsteps as he climbs up the stairs, the belt bag slung over his shoulder, and the faraway look in his eyes as he watched his last harvest in the farm.

I remember the box we placed in his grave containing his cig case, his nail care set, his vicks inhaler, his favorite games, his TV remote, his slingshot, his wallet and anything else he might need for his trip.

Its the little things I miss the most and are somehowthe most painful to remember. His quiet presence, riding at the back of the car with him at the wheel, watching sci fi movies with him, our yosi sessions together, coffee conversations, his corny jokes and a thousand other things I have always taken for granted.

I remember and I will remember even if it opens the wounds of a thousand what if's and what could've beens each and everytime...

I will remember...

Not to take anything in life for granted...

That every little thing pales to insignificance when someone you love is dying...

To show love each day as I'll never know what tomorrow will bring..

To forgive, to listen, to understand...

I will remember papa so that my own kids will know what their lolo was like when he was alive.

I will remember, for remembrance is the only way i can still be with my father.

Till we see each other again Pa.