Flowers From the Rubble

Poor Choices?

2011-05-14T05:51:00.003+08:00

"Oh no! It costs 2.50 per text. Only people with cash will be able to vote."

If there is one thing that adherents both for and against the proposed RH bill have agreed on lately, it's that they both lack the resources to make themselves heard.

Why is there this mad rush to plead poverty? Is it because we believe that any claim to the moral high ground begins with a low savings account balance? How does such a position encourage reasonable discussion on an issue that is already too emotionally charged to begin with?

One does not need to be poor in order to identify with the poor.

I remember an interview that John Malkovich gave for the movie, Places in the Heart, where he played a blind man. The interviewer marveled at how Malkovich was able to portray a blind man so realistically.

"How did you prepare for the role?"
"I looked for places in my life where I was blind, and then...I was blind."

One does not need to be poor to sympathize with the poor.

More importantly, maybe we should stop talking on behalf of the poor and start listening to them.

We should ask them what they think they need more. Would they rather have more access to reproductive health programs? Or would they rather have more opportunities to escape poverty?

People on both sides of the debate have tried to link the two questions together, which is a valid approach towards putting the reproductive health issue in context. But if we are really concerned about what the poor think, maybe we shouldn't begin by linking the questions together. Maybe we should begin by asking what the poor prefer to have.

The reproductive health issue is more than about providing choices. It's about freedom and responsibility. The poor should be free to decide.

Watch Harapan RH Bill.

Road Trip: Naga City, Bicol

2011-04-13T11:44:00.003+08:00

Image by rodrobles™ via Flickr

I thought that my recently concluded road trip to Naga City, Bicol, would be a test of endurance. Instead, it was an affirmation of faith.

I fell in love with Naga even before I got there. Penafrancia Tours has such excellent buses that even the one I ended up taking, which wasn't supposed to be their premiere bus service, conducted me from Manila to Naga comfortably. There are only two seats per row on each side of the bus, and these seats were both well-cushioned and well-proportioned. Moreover, the video player that they installed on the bus was excellent. The movie never skipped or stalled throughout the trip, which was more than can be said for me. Due to the meager offerings onscreen, one of which featured the Queen of Assembly Line Romantic Comedies, Katherine Heigl, I sort of watched two and a half movies. The sleep which normally eludes me in Metro Manila snuck up on me during the 9 hour trek, which was a welcome surprise. And so, I got to Naga refreshed and just a little hungry.

Make that a whole lot hungry. Fortunately, my friend Derek Forbes brought us to Naga's finest hotel, Avenue Plaza Hotel along Magsaysay Avenue. I had one of their signature dishes, Bagnet with Bicol Express, which was succulent, crunchy and spicy.

After finishing some work, I proceeded to Crown Hotel along Francia for even more rest. While the Crown Hotel isn't as luxurious as Avenue Park, it is conveniently located in the heart of the city, and the rooms are clean and well-maintained. I've always maintained that the quality of a hotel can be gleaned from the quality of their bathrooms, and Crown Hotel did not disappoint. While their bathrooms are small, they are clean, well-designed and the faucets dispense hot and cold water almost immediately.

But the true beauty of Naga is revealed only in prayer. I love the fact that there is a church (both Catholic and non-Catholic) within a five minute commute of the city center. I love the fact that the churches I visited subject all visitors to the following experience the closer that they get to the heart of worship: inviting, then solemn, and finally intimate.

Angel in Our Lady of Peñarancia

And because I have ceased to entertain the vanity that my words could do a better job of recreating the wonderful sense of discovery that accompanies encountering a place for the first time, especially through prayer, let me leave you with two of my favorite Naga pics.

Enjoy!

Adventures in Gastroenteritis

2011-03-24T08:51:00.001+08:00

It's that time of the summer once again. One minute, the kids are healthy. The next, they're not.

Lucia was hospitalized for gastroenteritis, a development which gastroenteritis itself came to rue. Our little darling bended the illness to her will, and got a whole day's worth of television in the bargain.

Vengefully, the loathsome inflammation of the gastrointestinal tract migrated to our darling Carmen.

Nonetheless, there is much to be thankful for. Forewarned is forearmed. We know what the enemy is, and how to combat it. We replace vital fluids constantly. We cover ourselves in prayer.

Gastroenteritis won't know what hit it.

Azkals: World-Class Football!

2011-03-16T11:15:00.001+08:00

Courtesy of Fritz Gerald Dalida Photography

The Azkals play world-class football.

Does this mean that our players possess the vision and creativity of Lionel Messi?

Or the pace and strength of Didier Drogba?

Or the on-the-ball skills and selflessness of the Spanish World Cup team?

Maybe. Maybe not. But the Azkals play world-class football.

Whenever they play, we forget that a good number of the players hail from foreign shores. Whenever they play, we forget that for the most part, the players communicate largely in English. Whenever they play, we forget that in a country that divides itself all-too-easily along class, social or ideological distinctions, they embody unity in diversity, and the strength that comes only from being, in the end, truly Filipino: a mélange of influences, bound by love and joy.

The Azkals play world-class football. Whenever they play, they bring our world together.

Many thanks to Mikhail de Guzman of Soccer Central Philippines, Andi of The Official Azkals Fan Page on Facebook, Fritz Gerald Dalida and the inimitable Ebong Joson for making the viewing experience truly memorable. Kudos also to Bob Guerrero for educating Filipino fans everywhere on the offside rule.

Mabuhay ang Pilipinas!

Binibing Paniqui 2011: Keeping Love Real

2011-03-12T07:41:00.001+08:00

Image by ~MVI~ via FlickrThe city of Paniqui, Tarlac is beautiful in a way that only provincial cities are beautiful. Everything is but a street away. The ice cream parlor where I feasted on a generous meal of thick, sliced crispy fries for only Php 25 is but a street away. The night bazaar where I slaked my thirst on a mango shake fortified with milk for only Php 10 is but a street away. The auditorium where the Binibining Paniqui 2011 pageant will be held is but a street away.

The city of Paniqui, Tarlac is beautiful in a way that only provincial cities are beautiful. You cross the street and you fall in love. There are two schools of thought on preserving the charms of small-town life. You can wrap it in plastic and try to keep things just the way they are. Or you can let the town grow, but carefully, mindful of the pains that growth can bring.

The Binibing Paniqui pageant represents the best of Paniqui. When you meet the candidates, you don't only marvel at the sight of their natural, Filipina beauty. You marvel at the way they see themselves. They want to show that it is important to be beautiful inside and out. The candidates are beautiful in a way that few pageant candidates are beautiful nowadays. They are lovely to look at, but they are even lovelier when they start to talk. You cross their path, and you fall in love.

I came here to give a talk on how strong Filipina women should make the decision to be free, and how that decision also involves being chaste. But, as all fruitful encounters are wont to go, I ended up learning how many Filipinas have already made the decision to take responsibility for their freedom. I ended up learning that many of the candidates already demand that they love and be loved in a manner that respects their vibrant femininity and their desire for a healthy family.

I came here to tell them that it is important to be "safe", but that it is more important to make good decisions in love and life. A condom might safeguard one's burgeoning exploration of intimacy, but that's only so far as sex goes. What about an even more vital organ? What about the heart? There is no condom for the heart.

But the candidates, even though they could not articulate it before our discussion, already knew that. They already see themselves as more than just "beauty and brains". They see themselves as something precious, and undeniably loving. They see themselves as women of worth and character, who love and are loved in return.

You can wrap it up in plastic, or you can take care of it. In Paniqui, Tarlac, they've chosen to take care of it. It's a beautiful place. You cross the street, and you fall in love.

Acknowledgements:

Many thanks to Anna Varona-Rivilla and Mayor Miguel "Dors" C. Rivilla. I can't wait to bring the Sweetness and the Sweetlings over one of these days. Mabuhay!

Bad Writing? Good Parenting!

2011-03-10T09:00:00.000+08:00

Image via WikipediaSometimes, the worst writing conceals the best of intentions. I learned this from Gene Weingarten's heartwarming article on the man behind the popular Hardy Boys series, Leslie McFarlane.

Weingarten first writes of how he felt betrayed by the unbearably bad writing that characterized the adventures of his boyhood heroes, Frank and Joe Hardy:

"The dialogue is as wooden as an Eberhard Faber, the characters as thin as a sneer, the plots as forced as a laugh at the boss's joke, the style as overwrought as this sentence. Adjectives are flogged to within an inch of their lives: 'Frank was electrified with astonishment.' Drama is milked dry, until the teat is sore and bleeding: 'The Hardy boys were tense with a realization of their peril.' Seventeen words seldom suffice when 71 will do:
'Mrs. Hardy viewed their passion for detective work with considerable apprehension, preferring that they plan to go to a university and direct their energies toward entering one of the professions; but the success of the lads had been so marked in the cases on which they had been engaged that she had by now almost resigned herself to seeing them destined for careers as private detectives when they should grow older.'

Physical descriptions are so perfunctory that the characters practically disappear. In 15 volumes we learn little more than this about 16-year-old Frank: He is dark-haired. And this about 15-year-old Joe: He is blond.

These may be the worst books ever written."

But when he goes into the remarkable story of Mr. McFarlane, a largely self-taught, hardworking family man who eschewed writing well (which he could do) in favor of writing to feed his family, his initial feeling of betrayal gives way to admiration.

"I envisioned the young Leslie McFarlane, a fine writer, hunched over his typewriter, babies at his feet, desperate for the money to buy the coal to stoke the furnace to survive another day, haunted by fear, humiliated by his failure, guilty over his gall at subjecting the people he loved to the reckless dream he chased, banging out another idiotic novel for a plutocrat who abused him.

If you are a bad writer, then writing poorly must be no big deal.

But if you are a good writer, writing poorly must be hell. You must die a little with every word."

McFarlane wasn't an angel. He was, like many writers, a passionately flawed man. At his worst, he was a quiet monster, much like Melville's Captain Ahab, a man who couldn't let go of his youthful dreams of erudition and renown. But this didn't stop him from trying to be the best parent he could be:

"For five years after the Depression hit, during the worst years of doubt and shame, Leslie McFarlane hit the bottle. Drink is the bane of the writer at war with himself, and it nearly destroyed this one. His wife, Amy, a woman of uncommon strength, threatened to leave him.

This is not a chapter of his life that McFarlane has chosen to chronicle in his memoirs. His son, Brian, reveals it. His father, he says, was endangering his life and his family.

A writer can be the most selfish person on Earth -- demanding silence, expecting adulation, shamelessly mining the privacy of those around him for literary material. McFarlane did all that. He was no hero. But at his center lay something heroically unselfish. It showed up in the Hardy Boys -- not on the pages themselves, but in the simple fact that he was writing them at all. McFarlane was willing to demean himself and, as he saw it, to betray his craft, in order to put food on the table.

And now he faced the loss of his family. The end was in sight, and he knew it.

So McFarlane took the page out of the typewriter, crumpled it up, and wrote a new end. Good writers know when to do that.

He left home for a few weeks and went to a clinic in Hamilton, Ontario. Got himself straight. And never was drunk again."

His legacy may be seen in his children. He never stopped helping them achieve their dreams. Brian McFarlane was a hockey player who parlayed his love for the sport into a successful career as a broadcaster and sports writer. He is also a member of the Canadian Hockey Hall of Fame. His daughter, Norah Perez is an accomplished novelist.

He may not have fulfilled his childhood dream of becoming an accomplished man of letters. But he was, in the end, an accomplished man, husband and father.

Snarky Reviews on a Beautiful Monday

2011-03-07T08:35:00.000+08:00

Image by Getty Images via @daylife

Imagine this on your pants. Still cute?

Allow me to start the week on a light note by presenting the most impressively snarky product reviews on Amazon. I would link directly to the source, but some material isn't safe for work.

Here is a review for American Flag Workout Pants:

Even otherwise ordinary products aren't safe from snarky reviewers who seem to have nothing to do but make, uh, snarky reviews. Here's a couple of appropriately tongue-in-cheek reviews for a Bic ballpen:

Who are these people who have all the time in the world to do this? Moreover, is it possible to be paid for this? Ah, the possibilities!

Enjoy the start of the week!

Bannister Academy is Giving Away Scholarships for SY 2011-2012

2011-02-22T09:03:00.000+08:00

At Bannister Academy, we’ve realized that education isn’t just about students learning from teachers. It’s also about teachers learning from students. That’s why we have lofty aspirations for our students. We don’t just want to teach them. We want to be inspired by them.

That's why Bannister Academy is giving out two full financial scholarships for one male and one female child this school year, 2011-2012.

Do you know children who inspire you? Do you know children who make you want to be a better person? Do you know children who you are SURE will make the world a better place someday? If so, let us know about them.

We don’t think that we’re going to change the world. But we’re sure that some kid will. We just want to meet that kid, and hopefully, be part of his or her story.

Who is qualified?
• Anyone who is eligible for transfer to 1st or 2nd year high school*;
• Demonstrates good moral character;
• Has a strong drive to excel
*It is necessary to present supporting documents of eligibility.

How many entries can be nominated?
• You can nominate only one (1) entry.

What should the entry contain?
All entries should include the following:
1. Your name and your relationship to the nominee
2. Basic Information of the student:
- Full Name
- Address
- Date of birth (date-month-year)
3. Contact details: Landline number, cellphone number and e-mail address
4. A 300-word essay by the student, answering the question, “How can I change the world?”

Where should I send my entry?
• All entries should be e-mailed to changetheworld@bannisteracademy.com on or before March 9, 2011.

When will candidates be selected?
• 10 finalists will be selected, 5 girls and 5 boys. The Names of finalists will be announced on March 11, 2011. They will be contacted personally and through their registered guardians.
• All finalists have to take an entrance exam and interview on March 14. Winners will be awarded on March 19, during the Bannister Open House.

Bannister Academy is located in Circulo Verde, Calle Industria, Barangay Bagumbayan, Quezon City. We're offering Grades 1 to 4, and 1st to 4th Year High School.

Alternatives to RH: Keep Love Real

2011-02-21T09:10:00.000+08:00

The proposed RH Bill isn't only a flawed piece of legislation. It is also the single, most divisive proposed bit of legislation in Philippine history. Many intelligent individuals have argued both for and against the Bill. And while they might have their differences, they are concerned with essentially one thing: LOVE.

And so, instead of focusing on the many things which divide us, allow me to remind everyone of the really big thing that unites us. Love binds everything together. And it is this concern for the future of love and loving that has everyone drawing lines in the sand regarding the RH Bill.

Rather than rehash all my arguments against the Bill in this entry, allow me to make a recommendation. Let's explore alternatives to the Bill. One such alternative was proposed recently in Time Magazine. Do you really want to fight poverty? Invest in girls.

But if, given the recent global financial crisis, you are adverse to "investing", then maybe you should consider doing something more concrete. Jason Evert, the character education speaker, is in Manila. You might want to drop by Real Love Revolution 2011. Love shouldn't just be about protecting yourself from your mistakes. There is no condom for the heart.

There are alternatives to legislating love. There are alternatives to pontificating about love. But most of all, there are rational approaches to love. Some of them are even mathematical. Because, as the pundit quipped, love is like mathematics. Joy is added. Sorrow is subtracted. Our friends are multiplied. And our love, undivided.

Movies that Move: Inception

2011-02-07T09:11:00.001+08:00

Image by Profound Whatever via Flickr

Ten years ago, I watched Christopher Nolan's Inception. It was intellectually demanding. It was visually engrossing. It had memorable dialogue that I could imagine myself sharing with friends over a couple of cold ones. "What's the most resilient parasite? An idea. A single idea from the human mind can build cities. An idea can transform the world and rewrite all the rules. Which is why I have to steal it."

It was such a well-crafted cinematic experience that I start a blog and begin the long, lovingly painful process of dissecting the film and what it means.

But that was sometime ago. Things are different now.

Yesterday, I watched Inception with my wife. It was intellectually demanding. It was visually engrossing. And the dialogue? Memorable.

But I couldn't imagine myself sharing the Inception experience with friends, not even over a few cold ones. All I could think of was how important it was to live a life that you created. How important it was to always tell the truth. And how one must always confront their demons and embrace them fully one last time before letting go.

I couldn't wait for Dom Cobb to get home to his kids. And it killed me when he finally saw their faces. I'm not sure if what I felt, watching this cinematic gem with the wife I treasure above all jewels, was what Christopher Nolan intended. But I do know that it is an affirmation of what I have come to learn about love and families.

You have to make a leap of faith.

Outlaws? No, In-Laws!

2011-02-04T11:42:00.000+08:00

This article appears in this month's issue of Baby Magazine, and is lovingly dedicated to all in-laws we may have wished, at one time or another, to outlaw. Enjoy!

During their vacation and while they were visiting Jerusalem, George's mother-in-law died.
With death certificates in hand, George went to the American Consulate Office to make arrangements to send the body back to the states for proper burial.

The Consul, after hearing of the death of the mother-in-law told George that the sending of a body back to the states for burial is very, very expensive. It could cost as much as $5,000.00.
The Consul continues, in most cases the person responsible for the remains normally decides to bury the body here. This would only cost $150.00.

George thinks for some time and answers, "I don't care how much it will cost to send the body back; that's what I want to do."

The Consul, after hearing this, says, "You must have loved your mother-in-law very much considering the difference in price."

"No, it's not that," says George. "You see, I know of a case years ago of a person that was buried here in Jerusalem. On the third day he arose from the dead! I just can't take that chance."

Many married couples believe that the road to hell is paved with good intentions, mostly on the part of their in-laws. There is little in married life that recalls the full weight of the sanctity of holy matrimony than the certainty that you just didn’t marry your spouse. You married an entire family.

Fortunately, families that are united in love can be quite delightful. Even better, loving families are very much like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.

Like all sweet indulgences, it is important to remember your in-laws are like chocolate fudge brownies. They’re mostly sweet, but can be a bit nutty.

Here are some tips for dealing even with the most difficult in-laws.

First, set boundaries. Remember that for many doting grandparents, their task is to spoil the grandkids. The parents, on the other hand, are tasked to raise them. Forget about railing at the sheer injustice of the situation. Forget about the years of deprivation that your own parents made you go through. Forget about the indestructible Gregg leather shoes you wore throughout grade school, or the fact that your allowance was not subject to fundamental economic forces such as inflation, but to impossibly high academic standards in school.

It’s a whole new ballgame. Even your own parents will tend towards spoiling your kids. Accept the new world order and plan accordingly. If your parents and in-laws turn nutty in the face of prepubescent precociousness, then make allowances for their temporary insanity.

Give them a simple set of rules to regulate their behavior. In this sense, it is best to be guided by the spirit of Chesterton’s observations on the Ten Commandments:

“The truth is, of course, that the curtness of the Ten Commandments is an evidence, not of the gloom and narrowness of a religion, but, on the contrary, of its liberality and humanity. It is shorter to state the things forbidden than the things permitted: precisely because most things are permitted, and only a few things are forbidden.”

Of course, if they are not in a philosophical frame of mind, you might have to observe the other Chesterton quotation on the Ten Commandments:

“If men will not be governed by the Ten Commandments, they shall be governed by the ten thousand commandments.”

Explain, gently and with great patience, if not compassion, that these rules will allow them to spend more time with their grandkids. Make the correlation between kind consideration and quality time with the grandkids explicit. In most circumstances, regardless of living arrangements, the parents have direct control of access to the grandkids. Use it.

“No sweets after 4 pm.”

“Toys may be purchased only in the presence of the parents.”

“Meal times should be followed at all times.”

Second, always invite your in-laws to share their own experiences in rearing a child. Ideally, this should be done even before the grandkids are born.

This has two purposes. If your in-laws were hands-on parents, then they would have a lot of practical knowledge to share. You married their child, after all. If your spouse turned out well, and there seems to be no logical reason to enter into a loving union with a psychopath, you might want to find out just how they turned out the miracle that is the love of your life.

If they, on the other hand, weren’t hands-on parents, their dearth of practical knowledge will at least deter them from forcing their opinions upon the rearing of their beloved grandkids. Of course, ignorance has never prevented people from expressing their opinions. Still, as with gifts that cannot be measured in terms of monetary value, it’s the thought that counts. At the very least, your in-laws cannot claim that they were never consulted.

Third, try to waste time with your in-laws. Unfortunately, most parents really do start out by believing that no one is good enough for their little boy or girl. Thus, many young couples find themselves in a Catch-22 situation. If their fledgling efforts at building their nest fail, they reaffirm the mistaken beliefs of their parents. If they seem to succeed, they inadvertently hurt their parents by making it seem that they are no longer needed.

How do we address the fears of your in-laws then? Antoine de Saint Exupery once observed “It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important.” Spend time getting to know them. Try to avoid making overt gestures at bonding with your father-in-law or mother-in-law. Rather, ask if you could join them as they go about their daily activities. Hear mass with them. Help them putter about in the garden. Meet up for a cup of coffee.

Your in-laws need to be reassured that they can still play a vital role in their child’s new family. They need to know that their opinions still matter. They need to feel that they didn’t lose a daughter or a son: they gained a family.

To this end, it is important to remind them of how the quotation from The Little Prince ends:

“Men have forgotten this truth,” said the fox. “But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose . . .”

It isn’t just the relationship between husband and wife that’s supposed to last forever. We also need to live happily ever after with our in-laws.

Growing Upright

2011-02-01T14:25:00.002+08:00

Soon, my children will not look up to me. The kids are growing up, and for the vertically challenged members of the Borra family, it's a welcome development.

They're also growing up right, at least in the sense that they feel a keen sense of responsibility for one another and the people around them. Before, whenever we entered a toy store, Tina and I would always remind the kids that "We can play with the toys, but we have to leave them behind so other little boys and girls can play with them," thinking that it would save us from having to buy them toys in the first place. I was delighted with that approach because it was, at least for me, a harmless scam that ought to buy us some time until the kids are old enough to support their recreational activities by taking on part-time jobs.

But the last time that we went to a toy store, Juan and his brother Manuel showed just how much they have grown. To my surprise, it was Juan who reminded his younger brother Manuel that "we can only play and not buy, because other boys and girls will play with them after we're done". Manuel, in turn, proceeded to tell the same thing to his younger sister, Lucia.

I'm not sure just how much they understood what it was they were doing, but it was gratifying nonetheless. Sometimes, we get so caught up in buying things that we forget to enjoy them. And seeing the kids play with, and more importantly, take care of the toys they played with was a reminder of that. It is good to have things, but it is more important to enjoy what we have.

The kids are growing up right. They throw themselves into everything they do with a reckless joy normally reserved for the welcoming of prodigal sons. And when they grow old enough, if they continue to exude the infectious love and laughter that I saw that day in the toy store, their father will happily look up to them.

Of Monkeys, Keyboards and The Introvoys

2011-01-24T08:47:00.002+08:00

The infinite monkey theorem states that "a monkey hitting keys at random on a typewriter keyboard for an infinite amount of time will almost surely type a given text, such as the complete works of William Shakespeare". While many sophisticated thinkers have applied this to such diverse fields of study such as evolution, literary theory, and the statistical mechanics of random number generation, less gifted thinkers such as myself have appropriated this to the study of a single phenomenon: the Introvoys.

This band, which reached its zenith in the early '90s, is responsible for the hit singles "However Which Way" and "Will I Survive". Infuriatingly, both these songs, despite the normally high standards of eclectic excellence that I apply to my music, are firmly ensconced in my iTunes library.

Truly, songs are more than their lyrics. Otherwise, how could an otherwise well-educated, discriminating former Literature teacher put up with gems such as:

Try to close your eyes
And listen to the waves of young
Can you hear my voice I'm calling
Hear the sound

I can't go on forever all alone
I am only human
And my heart's not stone

"Will I Survive"? No. "However Which Way." "But, did I survive?" Barely.

Yet, there is the music itself. I wouldn't characterize it as particularly deep or complex, but it is compelling. The melody is catchy, and there is the judicious use of the guitars and drums to stress different movements throughout the song. You listen to the song and you figure, "Hey, this isn't bad." More importantly, you listen to the song and say, "Hey, I can write something like this!"

It reminds me of some pick-up basketball players that I've known in my youth. These players master a small set of effective moves which allow them to impose their will on the game. But these moves aren't borne of preternatural athleticism, or a studied grace. They are crude, somewhat awkward-looking improvisations of moves they've seen elsewhere. You admire how effective these moves are, but you are also just a little bit annoyed at the injustice of it all. "If I didn't care about aesthetics, I'd develop an ugly leaning set shot like that too!"

There's a part of me that recoils whenever I listen to "However Which Way" and "Will I Survive", but when I set aside my pretensions to musical sophistication, I must admit that these songs are catchy and, ultimately, memorable.

The Introvoys are the ugly leaning set shot of my iTunes library. Enjoy!

A Real Loss: Val Kilmer in Real Genius

2011-01-18T10:47:00.000+08:00

Whatever happened to Val Kilmer? Like many people of my generation, I have fond memories of Val Kilmer. I'm not talking about the volleyball playing, chiseled Iceman who shared such uncomfortably good screen chemistry with Maverick in Top Gun. I'm talking about the brilliant, charismatic, endearingly irreverent Chris Knight of Real Genius.

In The New Cult Canon, Scott Tobias revisits the most appealing incarnation of Val Kilmer and the zenith of the lovable nerd comedies of the '80s.

If there ever was a poster boy for the pitfalls of taking yourself too seriously it would be Val Kilmer, a bad boy forever on the run from his God-given ability to capture snarky sunshine on the silver screen and make the antisocial antipathy associated with genius a fiction as opposed to a reality.

Enjoy!

Schools as Institutional Fail?

2011-01-13T13:09:00.001+08:00

Karl Fisch once observed "We are currently preparing students for jobs that don't yet exist, using technologies that haven't been invented yet, in order to solve problems we don't even know are problems yet. " Yet, we continue to produce graduates at an alarming rate. As educators, we must ask the question: do we know what we're equipping our graduates to be? By not preparing our graduates for the changing fabric of the world they will inherit, is it possible that we are educating our students into obsolescence?

Reihan Salam, in an article that raises the very real question of an economy transformed by the current economic downturn and an increasing dissatisfaction with conventional education, paints a startling picture of the future:

The hope is that these young people will eventually leave the house when the economy perks up, and doubtless many will. Others, however, will choose to root themselves in their neighborhoods and use social media to create relationships that sustain them as they craft alternatives to the rat race. Somewhere in the suburbs there is an unemployed 23-year-old who is plotting a cultural insurrection, one that will resonate with existing demographic, cultural and economic trends so powerfully that it will knock American society off its axis.

One of the reasons why conventional schooling has failed to prepare our youth for the coming age is that schools are increasingly incapable of sustaining failure. Simply put, schools aren't a place to fail in anymore. Rather, they are places where one should "do well".

It is important to distinguish sincere attempts that fail from failures that are undistinguished save for the modest ambitions of their mediocrity. Spectacular failures have a remarkable ability to provide the impetus for spectacular successes. Mediocre failures are unremarkable in every respect, and should be treated with the disdain that Dante Alighieri showed for the lukewarm or tepid.

Megan McArdle insists as much when she writes about the need to make it easier for people to fail, rather than making it impossible for anyone to try, as a possible solution for the global downturn.

"But after the financial crisis of 2008 and the recession that has followed it...[the] freedom to fail probably ranks right around freedom to remove your own appendix.That's a pity, because failure is one of the most economically important tools we have. The goal shouldn't be to eliminate failure; it should be to build a system resilient enough to withstand it."

Students shouldn't go to school to do well. Our youth shouldn't go to school for "validation". We should go to school to learn something useful. Rather than make our educational institutions academic tightropes that our students have to walk in order to be deemed fit for civilized society, why don't we set our sights lower? Why can't schools be like the net that exists solely to catch those crazy, fearless, creative people who set out to conquer tightropes in the first place?

Nothing teaches success like the experience of failure. It's time schools rediscover that.

The End of the Affair: Why I Use a Huawei Ideos s7

2011-01-11T13:01:00.001+08:00

I have very little experience with infidelity. The closest that this Atenean came to cheating on anyone was when I secretly cheered for Mike "The Cool Cat" Cortez when he steered the rival De La Salle University Green Archers to consecutive men's basketball championships from 2000-2002.

Still, I always thought I would remain faithful to Apple. But Apple, with an endless stream of only incrementally innovative products characterized by an uncapitalized "i", kept on treating me as "i" and not an "I". When I look back at how it took several generations of iPhones to provide "text forwarding" or "copy and paste" functions, it became clear to me that Apple's business plan was built on keeping me an "i". I was the mistress on the side, kept at bay with tantalizing promises that never quite pushed through. Enough is enough. I deserve better.

The tablet device of choice for many consumers is the Apple iPad, an engineering marvel that boasts a dazzling combination of form and function. Yet, to quote Robert Frost out of context, "the woods are lovely, dark and deep", but "I have promises to keep". Surely there must be a tablet device that would both meet my professional needs without succumbing to the seductive siren song of the Apple App Store?

Enter the Huawei Ideos Tablet s7. Here's a picture with my workhorse MacBook for comparison.

An awkward meeting?

Many tech reviews spend an inordinate amount of time either gushing over or reviling the aesthetics of the device before hunkering down to a fairly comprehensive analysis of the relevant technological aspects that allow the device to do what it does. (If you want a fairly comprehensive review of the Ideos s7 that doesn't smack of technological pretension, go here.)

I'm afraid I am not too knowledgeable about the technological architecture of the tablet to provide much useful insight into what makes it tick. But I do know what I need.

Let me tell you about what I need. I need a secondary device that would allow me to check email, do some minor word processing, and share files with. Thus, despite the many persistently charming efforts of many manufacturers peddling tablets, this means really one thing. I just need a mobile device that could connect to the Cloud.

Right out of the box, you can use the Ideos s7 to do all these things. And if you've ever been annoyed at the Lord of the Rings "one button to rule them all, and in darkness bind them" approach that Apple has adopted in practically all their gadgets, you'll love the user interface of the Ideos s7. You have a home screen. You can choose "Web", "Entertainment", "Communications" and "Favorites". And just in case you make a mistake, you can always tap the "back" icon.

It stands on its own.

The Ideos s7 is an Android device, which means instead of dealing with the strict proprietary rules and regulations that govern the App Store, you may download applications from the Google Android Market and less "official" sources. You can get Dropbox for file sharing, Evernote for note taking and archiving ideas, and other useful apps that won't cost you an arm and a leg. While Android apps may lack the polish of many Apple App Store apps, many of them are just as useful. Also, many of the most useful apps are free.

It's only been a couple of days since I got out from under Apple's lovely polished heel. There's a whole new world out there, and a whole new experience for me to be alternately charmed and infuriated by. But I'm taking it one step at a time. To once again quote out of context, in this case Tom Cochrane,

"Life is a Huawei, I wanna ride it
All night long
If you're going my way, I wanna drive it
All night long".

Enjoy!

Smartness from the Sweetness

2011-01-07T09:46:00.000+08:00

The Sweetness is also the Smartest. Just the other day, Tina was showing me how she planned to assess the functional English language skills of her sophomores. As she was enumerating, with increasing animation, the many methods she plans to employ in "skinning the cat" I was struck by the utter villainy of one assessment tool. And by utter villainy, I mean it only in the sense used by the great Kevin Sorbo in the underrated The Middleman: it was "sheer elegance in its simplicity". What follows is my poor attempt at trying to follow Tina's glorious brainchild:

INSTRUCTIONS: Rewrite the following excerpt from your readings with the appropriate capitalizations and punctuations. You have

why then did the spaniards conquer the philippines if the instructions given to legazpi by the king of spain are to be made the basis of our answer at least four reasons stand out to introduce the catholic faith to these islands to discover a return route from the philippine islands to mexico spain’s most important colony at that time to bring honor and glory to the king of spain and to bring back to spain some of the wealth found in those places was the king of spain serious about wanting to introduce and spread the catholic faith in the philippines in the 16th century perhaps so for he assigned no less than five agustinian missionaries to accompany legazpi in his expedition some historians suspect though that as the deeds of the friars that followed in the islands bore out the catholic faith or religion was used by the spaniards for a purpose other than helping the natives of the islands attain personal sanctity they claim that the religion was used whether intentionally or accidentally as a tool of subjection thus where goons and guns failed god was made to step in

What skills would you have to use to pass that quiz?

I can't wait to unleash my newest weapon in class. This is why we teach, my friends! And why I love my Sweetness.

In the Mood for Love: Five Fingers

2011-01-06T08:51:00.001+08:00

I love running, but I hate running shoes. Running shoes never felt right. I'm not a shoe nazi. I couldn't imagine playing competitive sports without decent athletic shoes. But running should be different. It shouldn't be about encasing my feet in layers of rubber and fiber that have no purpose other than to stitch a logo on. It should be about the freedom to just get up and run. To anywhere. To nowhere. Just run.

When I first got my Vibram Five Fingers, I was struck by how liberating it was not to wear shoes. They were light, and I could wiggle my toes! Then I started running in them. I quickly realized, in the way that nascent democratic states have found out for themselves, that freedom has a price. My feet and legs were unused to the freedom that the Five Fingers afforded them. I had to learn to run again.

I love watching movies, but I hate talking about them with friends sometimes. Whenever people talk about movies, they almost always talk about the dialogue.

"I love the smell of napalm in the morning...smells like victory!"
"Show me the money!"
"You can't handle the truth!"

The other day, I asked students in the MA Humanities Program of the University of Asia and the Pacific to watch Wong Kar-Wai's Chinese-language film In the Mood for Love. Without subtitles.

At first, they squirmed. Then they readjusted their seats and squirmed some more. Several students looked like they were on the verge of shutting their minds down entirely.

And then they saw the movie.

When I asked them to provide a summary of what the movie was about so far, their answers were remarkably accurate. Moreover, when I asked them to provide proofs for whatever motivations they ascribed to a character, or for elements of the plot, their answers would be fluid and, for the lack of a better term to describe their budding film sensibilities, cinematic:

"It's the way they stood beside one another."
"It's flirting with poise."
"It's the light. It was very intimate."

Even those nerds, and there always are nerds of some form or the other in such a class, who saw the film before were astonished with what they were able to discover without using the dialogue to decode the narrative for them.

For many of them, a whole new experience opened up for them. Films aren't just about clever banter. They're about moving images.

They saw the movie.

Christmas Cheer!

2010-12-29T11:20:00.000+08:00

It's been awhile since my last post, for which I make no apologies. The grand experiment that is "living independently of live-in helpers" reached a critical point during the holidays. I am pleased to report that my family has not only survived the holidays. We have reinvented it.

Henceforth, Christmas in the Borra household will no longer be about spectacular holiday getaways, or wonderful gifts too big to fit under the Christmas tree.

Christmas is about hiding away over the holidays, with just Tina and the kids to snuggle underneath blankets redolent with Christmas cheer.

Christmas is about the gift of togetherness, which dwarfs any old gift that any old Santa can fit underneath any old tree.

Christmas is about living independently of helpers while remaining lovingly dependent on Jesus. May your season be as merry and bright!

Football: Yes, the Filipino Can!

2010-12-06T10:50:00.004+08:00

"Why do Filipinos play basketball?"

For the longest time, my answer to that question was "Because they love basketball. And unfortunately, you cannot choose what you fall in love with."

I should have known better. Love is not just an emotion. Love is not just about making a complicated, twisting layup despite the outstretched arms of taller, stronger opponents. Love is a decision. Sometimes love is about catching a pinpoint pass off a well-executed screen and roll and nailing a three-pointer over the outstretched arms of taller, stronger opponents.

"Why don't Filipinos play football?"

For the longest time, my answer to that question was "Because they love basketball. And unfortunately, you cannot choose what you fall in love with."

Now, I know better. We should play football not just because we would more naturally excel in the sport. We should play football because the level of commitment, desire, and solidarity involved in playing good football is precisely the level of commitment, desire, and solidarity that Filipinos should invest in all things Filipino.

Filipinos have always excelled in sports which celebrate individual skill. This is representative of the many skilled, heroic Filipino workers who labor in relative loneliness worldwide. It's about time that we exert more effort in playing sports which celebrate teamwork and camaraderie. Because when Filipinos direct their individual passions to a cause larger than themselves, they can move mountains. Or win football games.

Congratulations, Azkals! Thank you for introducing a new kind of Filipino heroism to the world. Football? Yes, the Filipino can!

It's the Season to be Like Children

2010-12-03T14:45:00.002+08:00

No one celebrates Christmas like Filipinos. Forget about the fact that our Christmas season begins as early as September. Forget about the fact that our tropical country produces more snowy Christmas displays than Iceland.

We make shopping expeditions to the most outrageously inaccessible portions of Metro Manila. We max out our credit cards.

As we draw closer to Christmas, Filipinos celebrate the season with the reckless abandon of the early Christians. And for the early Christians, those who lived and died so close to the time of Jesus Christ, this recklessness never bordered on mania. It always held true to what we read of in the Gospel:

"At that time, Jesus declared 'I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that you have hidden these things from the wise and understanding and revealed them to little children; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will.'"

Let's not forget to always keep the spirit of Christmas alive, by celebrating it as would a child.

Read Comics. Become Superhuman.

2010-11-15T12:41:00.003+08:00

“What? You’re not mutants? I thought this was the Xavier School for Gifted Students!”

Judging from the muffled giggling and undisguised irritation that the remark above elicited from the students of Xavier School for Boys in Greenhills at their recently concluded Comics Forum, one is tempted to say that comic books have successfully penetrated Philippine popular culture. At the very least, comic books seem to have been successfully introduced to the students of Xavier School, notwithstanding the lack of mutant powers in its student population.

But other than to point to the eternal struggle between the geeks and the jocks, which has been documented more fully and to greater effect in the movies, what are comic books good for?

Quite a lot, actually. Many progressive educators believe that comic books may be used to inculcate, to borrow from Antoine de Saint Exupery, “what is essential” yet “invisible to the eye”: the desire to learn.

According to one of the leading thinkers in the field of sequential art, Scott McCloud, comics are “juxtaposed pictorial and other images in deliberate sequence, intended to convey information and/or to produce an aesthetic response in the viewer”. As such, there are at least four good reasons why people should read comics.

First, simply determining whether the images are juxtaposed involves the critical thinking process. The reader learns to distinguish one image from another. Furthermore, the reader learns that while these images might mean something when considered separately, they could mean something else entirely when considered as a whole.

Second, once the images are considered both as individual images and images that convey a slightly different meaning when combined, it becomes important to follow these images in sequence. Why? Because images in sequence tell a story. Human beings are genetically hardwired to respond to stories.

Third, juxtaposed images that appear in sequence demand a response from the reader. This phenomenon may be seen most clearly in the spaces in between the panels: the gutter. In his book Understanding Comics, McCloud explains “…in the limbo of the gutter, human imagination takes two separate images and transforms them into a single idea. Nothing is seen between the two panels, but experience tells you something must be there!” Human beings connect these fractured moments and mentally construct a continuous, unified reality which allows them to make sense of the sequence they were presented with. This very human need for closure gives new meaning to the old Jerry Maguire catchphrase: “You complete me.”

Fourth and most importantly, since reading comics demands a response, comic book readers cannot be ambivalent about what they read. Either they like it or they don’t. Because comics involve the reader on an intimate level, readers are encouraged to retain what they have read. As Confucius noted, “Teach me and I will forget. Show me and I may remember. Involve me and I will understand.”

Reading comic books encourages understanding. And wanting to make sense of what we’ve read is what learning is all about.

Photo Credits:

Panels featuring the work of Hernandez and Huizinga come courtesy of Composing Graphic Narratives by Jonathan Bass.

Panel defining closure in comics comes courtesy of nothingelseis.

Look Back for the Future

2010-11-05T08:17:00.001+08:00

Many Filipino families subscribe to the notion that a college education is necessary for success. All over the country, hardworking parents continually admonish their children “The only thing we can bequeath is a good education.” But what if a college education in the wasn’t necessary for success? Even worse, what if a college education didn’t prepare you for success?

If financial stability were the sole measure of success, then certainly the many young Filipinos who are employed as call center agents may be considered successful. Certainly, many well-meaning citizens who express a sincere concern for the welfare of the less fortunate point to the booming business process outsourcing (BPO) industry as a boon to many struggling Filipino families. Furthermore, one need not finish college to be employed as a call center agent. One merely needs some facility with spoken English. The undeniable financial success that many Filipinos have achieved in the BPO industry might tempt us into thinking that perhaps our country’s institutions of higher learning, which use the liberal arts as the foundation of their curriculum, should focus on more useful, practical instruction.

However, it seems futile to focus on delivering "useful, practical instruction". Revolutionary educator Karl Fisch once observed “We are currently preparing students for jobs that don't yet exist, using technologies that haven't been invented yet, in order to solve problems we don't even know are problems yet. ” By the time we’ve prepared a student for a particular task by providing a specific set of skills to meet a definite goal, that student has been educated into obsolescence.

In his book The Idea of a University, Cardinal John Henry Newman suggested that “the intellect, instead of being formed or sacrificed to some particular or accidental purpose, some specific trade or profession, or study of science” should be encouraged to explore life in all its richness, both in part and as a whole, keeping in mind that while everything is connected somehow, it is man’s beautiful burden to nurture the creative chaos that teems just below the surface and produce something worthwhile.

Cardinal Newman might have written these words more than a century ago, but he could easily have been describing this wonderful, vibrant, increasingly connected world that we live in today. Perhaps to prepare for jobs that don’t exist, to use technologies that haven’t been invented, and to solve problems we don’t know will be problems yet, we don’t have to be too forward thinking. Maybe all we have to do is look back.

Credits:

Many thanks to Brian Belen for recommending that I follow Karl Fisch. While I might hog more bandwidth than a person of my modest intellectual resources should, Brian deserves a wider audience. His work is crisp, clear and concise. And yes, I hate him. But please do read him!

Opportunity Cost

2010-10-28T16:40:00.001+08:00

What does an election cost?

For Senator Juan Miguel F. Zubiri, an election begins with a cost of four billion pesos, but ends with opportunity. When Senator Zubiri filed Senate Bill No. 60, he said that the proposed bill “seeks to reset the synchronized Barangay and Sangguniang Kabataan elections and extend the terms of office of barangay officials to five years in a bid to address the issue of effective governance and implementation of long-term projects nationwide,” but readily admitted that the “basic premise of the postponement is cost and savings to government.” Citing the budget deficit that President Aquino inherited from the previous administration, Senator Zubiri added that “it would be better to use the almost P4 billion to other priorities”.

In the end, one could say that Senator Zubiri wanted to give President Aquino that most priceless of political commodities: an opportunity to do good. At a time when budgetary constraints threaten to prevent the current administration from taking concrete steps to fulfill the promises it made to the Filipino people, Senator Zubiri’s initiative should have been welcome. Yet, it is not.

For President Noynoy Aquino, an election begins with the cost of delay, but ends with the opportunity to reassert that democracy works. President Aquino may have been disappointed with some aspects of the local elections, but he would have been more disappointed had the elections not pushed through at all. It is important to recall that implicit in President Aquino’s campaign slogan “Kung walang corrupt, walang mahirap” is that Aquino will continue the legacy of his mother, the late Corazon C. Aquino. Tita Cory may have drawn mixed reviews for her presidency, but she garnered almost universal praise for having left it.

To this day, I'm not sure why Tita Cory refused to seek another term. But the fact that she didn't run for reelection despite every worldly reason to do so speaks very well of her. As Conrado de Quiros once observed, “Years before, Cory was pressured to accept the nomination to fight Marcos in the snap elections, and she agreed reluctantly. This time she refused adamantly. She had restored democracy, she would not be the one to scuttle it.”

The difference in opinion between Senator Zubiri and President Aquino represents a choice that many Filipino families face daily. What is a more valuable gift: to spend time with, or to provide money for the family? Too many Filipinos already reluctantly work abroad, depriving their children of their physical and spiritual presence, in order to secure a brighter future for a family that bears little resemblance to the one they left behind. A majority of our countrymen stay and labor in quiet desperation, trusting that the intangible gains of their presence can somehow offset the perpetual need for sustenance.

Like his countrymen, President Aquino has to choose. Would he rather have the means to implement the programs that his people need? Or would he rather reassure his people that they will never lack for opportunities to participate in nation-building, one hungry vote at a time? These are not easy decisions to make.

Yet President Aquino has to make them. In the end, our senators can only make suggestions. President Aquino, as father and steward of the hopes and dreams of many Filipinos who make difficult choices on a daily basis, will have to make the most of his opportunities to lead them.

A Window Into P-Noy: "Report Kay Boss"

2010-10-13T13:30:00.006+08:00

Sometime ago, I defended President Benigno Simeon C. Aquino III’s State of the Nation Address (SONA). While some pundits, which included respected economist Winnie Monsod, criticized President Aquino’s SONA for failing to specify solutions for the problems he identified in his speech, I suggested that perhaps these pundits should consider the SONA in the proper context. More importantly, I opined that the well-meaning critics of the nascent Aquino administration should realize that the message implicit in President Aquino’s SONA was radically different from that of previous administrations. President Aquino wasn’t trying to set the agenda for his administration. He was issuing an invitation: let’s work together.

In “Report Kay Boss”, the President again failed to impress many people with either the depth of his solutions for the country’s ills or his ability to communicate competence and reassurance through his rhetoric. However, as in the SONA, it became clearer that the Aquino administration would like to be defined less by what it says, but more by who the President is.

In the open forum that followed his speech, a teacher named Jesusa Antiquera asked a question. As she struggled to lift herself up to the chair set aside for such an occasion, a bemused President Aquino beckoned a soldier to help him seat the teacher. “We can do this,” the President said, eyes sparkling. And together, that was just what they did.

It is easy to romanticize such small spontaneous acts of kindness. And so, I refuse to do so. However, I would like to note that President Aquino seems to be remarkably consistent in making sure that his littlest gestures represent both the promise and the character of his administration.

In the late 1980s, New York City was a horrible place to live in. The streets were unsafe, and the authorities were at a loss as to how they could combat the rampant criminality. Social scientists James Q. Wilson and George L. Kelling suggested that the key to addressing the widespread problem of crime was by focusing on small, concrete measures such as fixing broken windows. They pointed out that if a broken window were left unrepaired, people in the neighborhood would conclude that no one cares and, more importantly, no one is in charge. Broken windows, these scientists insisted, are invitations for more serious crimes. When then-Mayor Rudolph Giuliani embraced this mindset, New York City embarked on a massive campaign to address minor quality-of-life crimes. The result was astonishing: in only two years, rampant criminality was arrested. New York City was a safe place to live in again.

The key to President Aquino’s effectiveness as our chief executive lies in his fidelity to his campaign promise, and his willingness to embody it. “Kung walang corrupt, walang mahirap.” A President who achieves some sort of infamy for enjoying a New York City hotdog, or for refusing to use sirens to navigate Metro Manila traffic isn’t some hick who misses the point. He’s just fixing broken windows.

“We can do this!”

Photo Credits:
Picture comes courtesy of The Sun.

Communication, Not Excommunication

2010-10-06T07:03:00.000+08:00

Like many Catholics, I am delighted by President Benigno Simeon C. Aquino III’s decision to take a firm stand on the issue of reproductive health. I am not happy with President Aquino’s tacit support of what I consider to be a flawed piece of legislation. However, I am happy, in keeping with best traditions of the Church concerning the intrinsic relationship between faith and joy, that President Aquino’s declaration has forced us to confront the necessary creative tension between the rich tradition of the Church and the demands of contemporary Philippine society. To address the needs of our people, we must move from considering matters concerning excommunication to communication.

In Blink, Malcolm Gladwell makes a compelling case for the cultivation of man’s adaptive unconscious: the ability to make correct, complex judgments almost instantaneously. It is useful, Gladwell reasons, to think of the human mind as a sophisticated supercomputer that quickly and quietly processes enormous amounts of essential data. Instead of being aware of an almost endless list of tasks that have to be done, our adaptive unconscious frees us from even having to consider this task list. Psychologist Timothy D. Wilson concurs:

“The mind operates most efficiently by relegating a good deal of high-level, sophisticated thinking to the unconscious, just as a modern jetliner is able to fly on automatic pilot with little or no input from the human, ‘conscious’ pilot. The adaptive unconscious does an excellent job of sizing up the world, warning people of danger, setting goals, and initiating action in a sophisticated and efficient manner”.

Because we can make good decisions in the blink of an eye, we can live as human beings, and not just “human doings”.

People are encouraged to cultivate both conscious and unconscious modes of thinking. We shift from one mode of thinking to the other depending on the situation. Some situations call for swift action. Other situations call for deliberation. Regardless of one’s position on the reproductive health issue, the respectful disagreement between the Catholic Bishops Conference of the Philippines (CBCP) and the President of the Republic of the Philippines demands not only deliberation but also discussion.

One of the biggest myths surrounding communication is the illusion that it has taken place. Has any substantial discussion taken place between the CBCP and President Aquino? Other than statements which have, sadly, been taken out of context by adherents on both sides of the reproductive health debate, there has been no discussion between the CBCP and President Aquino.

Also, it would behoove both the Church and the Executive Office to keep in mind that the purpose of communication is not to belabor a point, but to cultivate understanding. To insist that President Aquino represents all Filipinos and not just Catholics is as fruitless as to insist that the CBCP has the duty to express its views on what it perceives to be moral issues. Both are correct. To subject these pronouncements to a level of scrutiny best applied to exegetical commentary is ridiculous.

The adaptive unconscious of the Filipino people, which both the Church and State have played a big role in cultivating, has identified reproductive health as an important social, economic, and moral issue that must be addressed. Both the CBCP and President Aquino have to disengage the automatic pilot and work together for a solution.

Wook! A Weopard!

2010-09-16T08:17:00.007+08:00

Early this morning, my son Manuel came up to me with a question.

"Papa, what animal is this?"
"Manuel, it's a leopard."
"Wook papa! It's a weopard!"
"Yes, Manuel. It's a leopard."
"Okay papa. I wove you."

The "l" is a liquid, voiced lingua-alveolar consonant. This means that the "l" sound is produced when one is capable of touching the tip of the tongue to the upper alveolar ridge. Most children have difficulty with consonants like "l" because they simply don't know where to put their tongue.

Manuel's inability to properly enunciate his "l"s is part of growing up. Right now, he "wikes" things, and "woves" people. Eventually, he'll become proficient enough with the use of his tongue to pronounce his "l"s and even roll his "r"s. But even though Manuel has difficulty making use of his tongue, he certainly has no difficulty using his heart.

I love you too.

Many thanks to Phonetics for the information regarding the sounds of spoken language.

A New Look!

2010-09-07T10:22:00.005+08:00

One of my favorite verses from the Bible comes from Proverbs 4:23, which reminds me "Keep your heart with all vigilance, for from it flow the springs of life."

And so, as I digest the wonderful events of the past two weeks, allow me to welcome you to the new look of my blog with pictures of those whom I guard with all vigilance.

Juan

Manuel

Lucia

Carmen

I would have loved to post a picture of my wife, Tina, but I am so "damned in a fair wife" the inevitable comparison to the Moor of Shakespearean lore would merely draw unseemly attention to my honored state.

Peace!

Celebrating Freedom: Mockingjay and Team Philippines at the Homeless World Cup

2010-08-26T10:18:00.005+08:00

At long last, Mockingjay! I never thought I would be enthralled by what is essentially a book for young adults, but I've been pleasantly surprised by this series. Thoughtful and robust, yet unburdened by a dense mythology that many less gifted authors mistake for "world-building", this book is a keeper.

I would offer a synopsis of The Hunger Games trilogy, but I'd rather not. Just check it out. It's worth it.

Ordinarily, I don't promote events, but when you wed my passion for football with my even greater passion for worthwhile causes in a single event, you deserve the exposure that comes from being featured in a blog with dozens of rabid followers. I would have said hundreds, but that would occasion a trip to receive absolution.

Megatent Events Venue, in cooperation with Bannister Academy, is hosting Mega Tambulan at Megatent, a whole day streetsoccer challenge to support the efforts of the Philippine Team to the Homeless World Cup. This is a wonderful opportunity to see first class street soccer, buy Team Philippines apparel, and soak in cool Filipino music. Games start at 8 am, and will continue into the evening. Admission, much like the spirits of the noble young men who will represent the Philippines in Rio de Janeiro this September, is free.

Homeless is not hopeless.

Photo Credits:

Picture of Mockingjay comes courtesy of The Hunger Games Trilogy Fansite.

A Lively Discussion on Abortion

2010-08-10T10:39:00.007+08:00

If you're one of the few, but fervent fans of Flowers From the Rubble...

Or if you subject yourself unnecessarily to asinine alliteration...

Or if you take delight in the metaphysics of self-reference...

Or if you've made it this far without navigating to a site that isn't a waste of your time...

I apologize for the absence. I was occupied by a spirited discussion on abortion in my Facebook profile. One of the most fascinating aspects of the aforementioned discussion on abortion was the sheer number of studies conducted both for and against it. I would click on the hyperlink above if only to marvel at the research conducted by Manny Amador (for those against abortion) and Michael Aquino (for those who believe it should be offered as an option).

In lieu of coherent commentary (When will this man give alliteration a rest?) on this very important public safety issue, allow me to tease you with some of the more interesting conversations in that thread.

Such as this:

Juan M. Borra III: ‎@Bob: As always, your insights are both welcome and valued. At the end of the day, I think we should move away from arguments that require a person to fit a certain profile before we take that person's insights seriously. Surely we can discuss things rationally without resorting to trial by personality?

Acting ethically is difficult because we try to apply general or universal principles to specific circumstances. As such, it becomes hard sometimes to determine what is ethical from what is unethical. But I think dialogue, like what all of us labor to do on these threads, is the key towards expanding the discussion so that all valid points of view are considered before making conclusions.

In the end, we all want the same thing. We just struggle towards it because we approach it from different directions. :)

Bob Guerrero: Well put. :)

Manny Amador: Let me make a few absolutely indisputable statements...First, this thread is a candidate for one of the longest threads started by John-D. Second, I'm still GWAPO (just check my cell number).

Thanks all for keeping this thread cool! You can all line up for my autograph now...

Or this:

Manny Amador: ...The Guttmacher Institute also made use of this shibolleth. it claims that abortiion rates will rise and then fall...

Bob Guerrero: Shibolleth. Big word. What does it mean? :-p

Miguel de Jesus: ‎@ bob - think that shibolleth means that this thread and the overpopulation thread just came together into some amorphous blob leaving us lesser beings who haven't done the research praying that john d would stop tagging us on these threads.

Bob Guerrero: Nice. I say Manny Amador should play football with us on Sundays. We can make it a pro-RH team versus anti-RH. :-p

Miguel de Jesus: ‎@ bob - brilliant! and in the spirit of the debate i suggest the anti-RH bill team be allowed to field as many players as they want and the pro-RH bill team not be allowed to pray before the game.

Michael Aquino: ‎@Bob - as an etymology nut, I absolutely LOVE the word "shibboleth". It has an interesting Biblical origin - one Israelite tribe used it as a password to distinguish and kill the members of another Israelite tribe. The latter tribe spoke a dialect that didn't have the "sh" sound; If you were challenged to say the word "shibboleth" and you mangled it, you were dead meat. (Judges 12:5-6)

Bob Guerrero: I think Michael Aquino would be a very valuable striker for the Pro-RH Football team. He seems to be very good at finding cracks in the Anti-RH defense...

Juan M. Borra III: ‎@Bob & Miguel: Brilliant! Someone has to document the conversations around the pitch though. Instead of clever ball fakes, we can dazzle people with scientific studies. :)

Bob Guerrero: I worry lang that the anti-RH team might have difficulty recruiting players... :-p

Michael Aquino: Bob, if only there were a correlation between my passion for argument and my ability on the football pitch. ;-)

Miguel de Jesus: ‎@ bob - why? because they would all be unborn?

Bob Guerrero: Miguel - No, because I think our recruiting pool would be a bit bigger than theirs haha. Peace!

As usual, the picture above has very little to do with the topic. Enjoy!

State of the Nation

2010-07-27T08:03:00.008+08:00

Allow me to begin this post by apologizing, in advance, for two crimes that I will inflict on the hapless reader. One is borne or ignorance, and the other, my poor taste. I'll leave it up to you which of the two I refer to below, as well as which is the greater crime.

It seems to me that majority of the comments regarding the State of the Nation Address of Pres. Benigno S. Aquino III stems from differing conceptions of what a State of the Nation Address (SONA) should be.

Earlier, I caught respected economist Winnie Monsod on GMA TV taking President Aquino to task for failing to specify solutions for the problems he identified in his speech. While Mrs. Monsod acknowledged that many Filipinos appreciated the brevity of President Aquino's address, she also implied that the SONA shouldn't be crafted around time constraints. In Cuba, she mentions, Fidel Castro's SONA could last up to three hours. In her opinion, a SONA should include steps that must be taken to address issues plaguing the nation so that the President may be held accountable.

Many Filipinos, however, seem to share the opinion that President Aquino, by reiterating his commitment to good governance and zeal for addressing corruption in government, did a creditable job. His message sought to both reassure and, in the end, inspire. As one who recognizes not only the utility of the trappings of theatricality, but the need to infuse a passion bordering on an evangelical sense of mission in life, I can understand how President Aquino's message could resonate among those who want to embody the change they clamor for.

This raises an interesting question. What, therefore, is the SONA for? Historically, the SONA stems from Article VII, Section 10 of the 1935 Constitution:

“The President shall from time to time give to the Congress information on the state of the Nation, and recommend to its consideration such measures as he shall judge necessary and expedient."

In the 1987 constitution, this was expanded to some extent, as it is now considered the duty of the duly elected president to deliver the SONA. In Article VII, Section 23 of the 1987 Constitution we read that:

“The President shall address the Congress at the opening of its regular session. He may also appear before it at any other time.”

There seem to be no guidelines as to what the function of the SONA should be, other than the fact that the President should acknowledge that the process of governance is essentially one of inclusion. By requiring the President to address the joint session of Congress, all of whom were duly elected through the same democratic process that enables him to speak on behalf of the Filipino people, the framers of our constitution seem to be saying: "With all due respect, Mr. President, there are other people who represent, to some extent or the other, the mandate of the people. You have to work with them. This job is bigger than one man, or a single administration."

This realization, that the SONA is essentially an invitation to work together, adds a new, and it seems, more fundamental dimension to the prevailing school of thought outlined above. Earlier this year, I wrote that:

The ills that beset our beloved country are so widespread, so malignant, and so ingrained in the way that the contemporary Filipino views himself or herself that one term in office is not enough...

We deserve a president and a vice-president who are friends, and not strange bedfellows thrown together by stranger politics. While friendship, camaraderie, and the ability to work well with one another are not essential traits in politics, they are important traits in team sports. Democracy works not because of the ability of individuals to work for the common good. It works because individuals pool their abilities to work together for the common good.

We deserve a government where whatever positive reforms enacted by the current administration may be carried over into the next administration. What is wrong with carrying over the effective policies and reforms enacted by the previous administration? Nothing. Why haven't we done so? Because traditional politics has always proven weightier than transformative politics.

My views still haven't changed. The road to a future where reforms are enacted on the basis of ideals and policies are continued on the basis of effectivity begins with the SONA. When evaluating President Aquino's performance in his first SONA, we shouldn't just ask ourselves whether or not the SONA effectively communicated the goals of his administration in the coming months. We should also ask ourselves whether this SONA helped President Aquino to build the working relationships he will need so that, together, we can eventually address our nation's ills.

Photo Credits:

Picture of President Noynoy Aquino comes courtesy of Shengxian97.blogspot.com

My Girls!

2010-07-23T08:34:00.004+08:00

I don't think I've ever wrote about the sublime sense of surrender I feel every time I am roused from slumber by my girls.

Lucia is a force of nature. She is adorable, intelligent, and very much aware of the attractive traits, both physical and otherwise, that she possesses in abundance. When she wakes me up, it is like being surprised by the warm, lapping tongue of the sun, as it greets me through the slotted blinds.

Carmen, on the other hand, is like the soft, comforting pitter-patter of a gentle spring shower. Carmen is a subtle, beautiful wonder. While perfectly capable of carrying a discussion through her gurgling exclamations of joy, she prefers to discourse with her eyes. And before you know it, you're in love. Again.

I would say it doesn't get any better than this, but that would be a lie. Every time they wake me up, I experience my daughters' love as if it were the first time.

Riposte to Ralph: Wake up to Spanish Football!

2010-07-16T10:35:00.008+08:00

"Spanish football is boring."

And just like that, my best friend Ralph and I launched into a wonderfully antagonistic discussion of the recently concluded World Cup.

Ralph claims that any football team that subjects him to four consecutive 1-0 victories in a row deserve to be flayed with plastic spoons. Oddly enough, that's pretty much how many fans describe the possession-based style that the Spanish used to eventually win the World Cup: "death by a thousand passes".

It is highly likely that the ungodly hours in which Ralph watched the World Cup matches had much to do with his looking at the Spanish team through Homer Simpson goggles:

But really, and it's interesting that someone who regularly views this blog, could have missed the sheer manliness of Spain's feat. As Joe Posnanski observed here:

"It’s precarious to play that kind of soccer because it takes so much talent, so much concentration, so much confidence — one mistake, one good counterattack, one shaky official’s call could make all the difference. Portugal had chances early in the match to take the lead. Paraguay missed a penalty kick. Germany had one brilliant opportunity to score. If any of them put the ball in the net … well, we don’t know how Spain would have responded. Let’s not forget that a not-especially great Switzerland team beat Spain in the first match of the World Cup. To win the Spanish way — by simply dazzling your opponents with brilliant passes and receptions — well, let’s just say it’s soccer played at the highest degree of difficulty."

It is interesting that Xavi, perhaps in retaliation for all the negative press the Spanish team was getting prior to winning the World Cup, shares this view:

"What did people think? That we were going to win every game 3-0? I can't believe what I am hearing sometimes. Do you not realize how hard it is? Teams aren't stupid; we're European champions. They all pressure us like wolves. There isn't a single meter, not a second on the pitch. We are passing faster and faster and faster. We're playing bloody brilliantly. Then there's the pitch and the ball -- I have spent the World Cup thinking, 'That's a good pass,' only to see the ball disappear off in a different direction."

What the Spanish have done, and which I hope my Oranje will emulate, is to dust off the brilliant, flawed experiment that was Total Football and simply reduce it to Football. As writer Sid Lowe observed:

"Much has been said about the weakness of Spain's back four. It's not true. And it's not only not true because Sergio Ramos, Gerard Piqué, Puyol and Joan Capdevila are far better than they are given credit for, but also because they are so rarely exposed. The back four is not a back four but a back 11 -- just as it is a front 10 -- and because for Spain defending starts with the ball.

Put simply: If you don't have possession, you cannot attack Spain. If it controls the game, you cannot cause it problems. When you do get the ball back, there is an anxiety to do something with it immediately that it damages creativity. A tiredness too: "When we did eventually win the ball we were so exhausted from chasing it that we couldn't do anything with it," Miroslav Klose said. Spain had well over 50 percent of the possession against Germany and produced almost 160 more passes; Germany ran 1.2 more miles. No one at the World Cup has had more of the ball than Spain.

The cliché talks about efficiency as if it is a separate thing from aesthetics, and pragmatism as if it is sitting back and kicking the ball long. "Defensive master class" tends to be a tag hung on teams that park the bus. But is that really clever? Isn't Spain's defensive approach even more successful? The Spanish have, after all, conceded just two goals all tournament. Solidarity is seen as everyone fighting together "in the trenches." But what trenches? Spain's solidarity is always having players in the right position, always having options, not losing the ball. Safety first is seen as hoofing the ball miles away. But it is safer to keep hold of it."

Spanish football is both manly and aesthetically pleasing. If it seems a bit too pretty, or self-assured, it's probably because it's the only football in the world that can produce this on a regular basis, at the highest level of play:

Ralph, you're wrong. But then a lack of sleep could do that.

Viva España!

2010-07-13T07:52:00.006+08:00

Allow me to state for the record that I have been a loyal Dutch football fan for as long as I can remember playing football. The concept of Total Football that was nurtured by the stellar international play and later grassroots developmental prowess of Dutch legend Johan Cruyff, and executed with such verve and panache by club team Ajax, in fact, continues to fuel my love for the game. But this was truly Spain's World Cup, and the Spanish victory bodes well for soccer fans everywhere.

While the performance of the Spanish team in the World Cup finals could not compare with the aesthetic fluency with which they captured the Euro 2008 title, they were clearly the better team for the sole reason that, and my Oranje heart bleeds as I type this, they tried to play football.

I have no doubt that tactically, the Dutch team executed a well-crafted, deliberate strategy. But the Dutch didn't really play football. No less than Johan Cruyff lamented the almost joyless, workman-like football that the Dutch subjected a worldwide audience to for almost two hours, claiming in the end that, "They were playing anti-football."

Spain, on the other hand, played with a passion, creativity and artistry that could only have been honed by a disciplined commitment to beautiful football. One competitor described playing against Spain as "death by a thousand passes". One is tempted to extend the metaphor to the creative arts, where a singular, sublime spectacle is often the result of a thousand deliberate, almost anonymous strokes of quiet aesthetic fervor. The Spanish team never stopped probing, never stopped moving, and never stopped attacking.

Spain also never stopped believing. The difference between the previous, prodigiously gifted Spanish squads and the current, wondrously gifted World Cup team is not merely tactical. It's almost spiritual.

Phil Ball, a writer who has been following Spanish football for some time now, noted that "In the past, Spanish sides have always looked capable of winning tournaments, only to fall prey either to their strange inferiority complex, their lack of cultural and political unity, or their tendency to lose their heads."

All that is gone now. The new Spanish team is skillful, crafty, patient, and above all, united in a way no other Spanish team has ever been. One need only look at their skillful, visionary midfielder and finals goal scorer, Andres Iniesta, to realize just how much Spain has grown as a team and as a football nation.

Ball goes on to write, "A measure of the scorer is that at the moment of his apotheosis, he took off his shirt and dedicated his goal to Dani Jarque, the Espanyol player who died in August last year of heart failure at the age of 26. It was an extraordinary gesture, to a man with whom Iniesta had never even played. It summed up the Spanish squad, mystically united, more concerned with the collective than the individual, more focused on how your team-mates feel."

Not all nations can play with the skillfulness, cohesion, and deliberate passion of Spain. But we can only hope that the other football nations learn to play like them. This Spanish team exorcized its tortured sporting past, riddled with outstanding players who never won it all, by embracing a sporting future where its talented players can celebrate goals by reminding everyone of the real goal of all sporting endeavors: to provide poignant reminders of how the human spirit triumphs when joy is shared among many, even those no longer with us.

Viva España!

Photo Credit:

Picture of Andres Iniesta comes courtesy of Telegraph.

A Tossed Salad of Links

2010-06-29T11:13:00.005+08:00

In lieu of a coherent entry, allow me to offer up a smattering of what passes for food for thought in the little corner of the universe that I represent:

My good friend, and fellow football fanatic, Bob Guerrero shared a link detailing the long road to recovery that England must embark on to reclaim its fading football glory on his Facebook page. As, quite unfairly, there seem to be quite a number of people who have not had the privilege of meeting the erudite, impassioned curmudgeon who keeps our little Sunday football community alive, here is the link, and an excerpt from the excellent article written by Georgina Turner:

"It's easy to forget that England even had a front line to dissect, scoring three goals in four games and only flickering momentarily into life for a brief spell against Slovenia. Wayne Rooney has now played at two World Cups without scoring a goal, but his virtual absence in South Africa is more worrying that the statistics. His contribution in four games could be scrawled on a Post-It note with room for a shopping list."

Another good friend, Roberto F. de Ocampo, wrote a wonderful article about both the promise of the incoming Aquino administration and the fiscal feasibility that should be attached to servant leadership, which you may find in full here. An excerpt follows:

"The desire and willingness of the citizenry to help its government succeed are the highest they have been since Edsa I and are arguably more substantive now, given the lessons learned since then that effective deployment of People Power for the purpose of bringing about sweeping but nevertheless lasting reforms the country needs requires sustained partnership between the government and the people more than it does sporadic demonstrations of public displeasure. This intense feeling for participation must be harnessed from the grassroots who could help call to public attention instances of corruption, identify those involved, and help bring them to justice. It is important for all of us to ensure that this golden opportunity for true participatory democracy does not fade once again into a malaise of public apathy."

And lest I be accused of linking only to friends, here's one pointing to an article written by one I have no personal relationship with, but hold in the highest respect nonetheless. Antonio J. Montalvan II writes about sex education, and how it shouldn't be rooted in a contemporary understanding of pleasure. An excerpt follows:

"As well as it is a gift that ordains one to life and love, sex is not a shameful thing. Because our sexuality makes us authentically human, the rule of life is not built on the selfish pursuit of pleasure. An essential factor thus in the teaching of sex education is purity, or in its secular parlance, abstinence from sex. A Protestant group actually uses the more youth-savvy phrase “true love waits.”

Sex education is not merely restricted to the learning of concepts and their information but has to take place along these coordinates because it seeks the integral formation of the young. Using the framework of St. Thomas Aquinas, the more important a thing, the more necessary it is to follow the order of reason concerning it. Sexuality thus is a great good which must be necessarily treated by the order of reason enlightened by faith."

Enjoy!

Photo Credits:

Picture of salad comes courtesy of Peoria Steak and Fries.

Liveblogging Lakers-Suns, Game 4

2010-05-26T08:45:00.011+08:00

I had originally wanted to explore the suggestions of eminent economist and former Secretary of Finance Jesus Estanislao on nation-building in the aftermath of the recently concluded Philippine National Elections, but a serendipitous series of events led me, instead to liveblog the Lakers-Suns game:

1. I'm battling a nasty cold. As one doctor had already recommended a virtual house arrest as a way of arresting my incessantly leaking proboscis, I am loathe to entertain yet another doctor's advice regarding anything. And yes, I realize that Medicine and Economics are entirely different fields of study, but just this once, I would like to recall my youthful misadventures in healing and thumb my nose up at doctors of all stripes.

2. Manuel just marched into our room to inform his mama, in my presence, that "I don't like papa". For some weird reason, probably related to this nasty cold that has frozen my mental state firmly in between petulant adolescence and early adult ennui, his telling on me fills me with pride. There isn't a single passive-aggressive bone in my 2nd son's body. And just in case I missed his earlier pronouncement, he rolls on top of me, and onto his mama, looks me in the eye and says "I don't like you". For the record, the reason he doesn't like me right now is because I told him that playing with his papa's umbrella indoors is not a good idea.

3. And because Manuel felt I wasn't sufficiently repentant for my transgressions against him, he just pooped in bed. You gotta respect a little boy who is so single-mindedly determined to make his point that he is willing to poop in bed just to spite papa.

Thus, we have the liveblog of the Lakers-Suns game.

8:47 am

My liveblog of the Lakers-Suns game is off to an inauspicious start as my good friend and die-hard Lakers fan, Ralph Lumo, refuses to answer his phone. Now that's a shame. Ralph is the sort of fanatic whose day rises and falls according to the performance of his sports teams.

9:05 am

Both teams are playing intelligent basketball right now. Lovely ball movement frees Derek Fisher to score the first 2 points of the ballgame, and Steve Nash's unparalleled court vision finds Grant Hill for a midrange jump shot.

Ballgame is tied at 6.

9:10 am

Robin Lopez and Amare Stoudemire are outhustling and overpowering the Lakers big men right now. Lopez has been very good all series.

Kobe finds a cutting Gasol rolling hoopward for two points, and a trip to the line for a freebie. Amare gets whistled for the foul, the softest foul I've ever seen anyone above 6"10 has ever given in the NBA playoffs. Vince Carter might be "Half-Man, Half-Woman", but Amare's inviting comparisons to one of the NBA's softest pseudo-superstars. You have to make those fouls count, brother!

And so we switch, for the embarrassingly active minority of my readers who live abroad, to game time to avoid confusion.

4:57 in the 1st

Gasol finds Odom for an easy layup. Amazing passer for a big man. And Odom's such an upgrade over Bynum it's like comparing a 1997 Honda Accord to a 2010 BMW 320i.

On the next possession, Channing Frye has missed his nth 3-pointer for the series. On the next play, he finally gives up camping along the 3-point line, goes up strong for an offensive rebound and gets fouled in the act of shooting. Hopefully these freebies help him find the shooting touch that seemed to desert him just as Lost, House, Chuck, and How I Met Your Mother started winding down their seasons.

Lakers are up 19-16.

1:44 in the 1st

Amare with a lovely drive towards the hoop. As helpless as he is on defense, he is dynamic offensively when facing the hoop. Of course, he was doing the shake and bake on Gasol, who's not an exceptional one-on-one defender.

0:37 in the 1st

Goran Dragic, the other half of the most ridiculous rivalry in the NBA, makes a tough shot. His nemesis, Sasha Vujacic, who has been chained to the Lakers bench all playoffs, can only look on with smoldering Slovenian spite.

The quarter ends tied at 23.

10:33 in the 2nd

Dragic hustles Kobe into a jump ball situation. The Lakers get the ball back, but you gotta admire Dragic's desire. Dragic slices through the Laker defense by practically circumnavigating the world for a tough layup, and Amundson follows a botched Bynum attempt with a layup of his own. High energy plays all around from the Suns.

Jackson re-inserts Odom.

Suns up, 32-27.

8:00 in the 2nd

Leandro Barbosa continues his resurrection in Phoenix by hitting another shot. Doug Collins, "He can get hot in a hurry". In related news, Bryant has just hit consecutive jump shots. He's not looking for his offense yet.

6:57 in the 2nd

Frye finally hits a 3-pointer! Amazingly, the Suns crowd give him a standing ovation. After another Jared Dudley 3-pointer, this time off a Dragic pass, the Suns are up, 44-34. Dragic pass. It sounds like one of those melodramatic last stands that seemed to occur with disturbing regularity during early 20th century warfare. But not to these Suns.

Phil Jackson calls a timeout. He needs it. Suns are up, 44-34.

5:15 in the 2nd

Kobe hits back to back 3-pointers. You can see it. He's locked in. This is a critical juncture for the Lakers. Will Kobe try to shoot them back into the game, or will he just do enough to set up his teammates for good looks?

3:53 in the 2nd

It's raining 3-pointers! After an unlikely 3-pointer by Artest, Frye hits another 3-pointer. Kobe follows with a 3-pointer of his own, but Nash finds Frye in the corner for another 3-pointer.

Kobe hits yet another 3-pointer and I've now put the phrase "3-pointer" in my clipboard for easy pasting. Nash finally hits a jumpshot to end the 3-point torrent, but this has been very entertaining and instructive basketball so far. The Lakers are just willing their 3-pointers in, while the Suns are nailing their 3-pointers out of design.

Suns are up 60-52.

I try calling up Ralph again, but no dice.

And we end the half with the Suns up, 64-55. The story for the half has got to be Suns bench, who have outscored their Laker counterparts 34-11.

In recognition for the madcap fun that the Suns exemplified with their play during the 1st half for halftime, allow me to share Moymoy Palaboy's hilarious video, How to Ride a Jeep.

See you in 10 minutes!

Start of the 3rd

And, just like that, swift as winged dreams, we're back. Ralph still hasn't answered my calls, which seems fitting as the Lakers have yet to truly make their presence felt in this game. Early foul trouble for Gasol, and the blisteringly hot 3-point shooting of the Suns have discomfited the Lakers so much that they have yet, as a team, to find a rhythm for this game. If it weren't for the strong individual play of Kobe, Artest, and Odom, these Lakers would have been blown off the floor.

Thanks to the trusty Internet, I find out that while the Lakers committed only 5 turnovers for the 1st half, the Suns committed only 2. That's amazing!

Kobe begins the Laker offensive with a beautiful shot fake that gets him to the line. Derek Fisher whips a bullet pass to Artest, who converts a difficult layup in the paint.

But Amare goes right at Gasol with successive drives to the hoop, and Bynum, as usual, arrives too late to help out.

Suns lead, 70-62.

9:22 in the 3rd.

Kobe hits a long 3-pointer in early offense. Lakers within 5. And off a Suns miss, Kobe punishes them with yet another 3-pointer. Lead is down to 2.

Amare splits his free throws, and Bynum partially redeems his poor defensive play by following up Artest's dribble drive.

6:30 in 3rd.

A relentless Robin Lopez doesn't give up on a Suns miss and puts one in over both Gasol and Bynum. As Doug Collins observed, "Lopez just wanted it more".

Equally relentless, Kobe wills in another tough jumpshot to make it 77-74, in favor of the Suns. Refusing to bow down in the face of Kobe's macho play, Nash endures another vicious swipe to the face. Doug Collins, who is also at the top of his game remarks, "Nash is going to need plastic surgery at the end of the playoffs".

Nash tries to make the same dribble drive baseline pass to Amare, but the Lakers disrupt it on successive occasions. Kobe is locked in like threats to Homeland Security at Guantanamo Bay. They're making a run here.

2:15 in the 3rd.

Kobe ties the ball game with a 3-pointer. 81-all. My Sweety comes in with some contractors who look in on the pool area. Unfortunately, Tina also asks me for my opinion regarding some improvements to be done. Not wanting to disappoint my Sweety, I tear my eyes away from the game.

End of 3rd.

It ends with the Suns holding on to the slimmest of margins, 85-84. Gritty Laker comeback.

Start of the 4th.

Farmar nails a patient 3-pointer. Lakers take the lead, 87-85. Barbosa nails a long jumper to tie the ballgame. Dudley delivers a beautiful bounce pass to Amundson to re-take the lead.

Tina finally draws my attention to the KFC NBA Fully Loaded meal. It has a Zinger in it! Fantastic. I must try it. Of course, I had been watching the game for almost 4 quarters before my Sweety pointed it out for me, a reflection of how important she is to me, at least insofar as eating is concerned.

8:06 in the 4th.

Frye nails a 3-pointer at the end of the shot clock! Suns lead, 92-87. Bynum with a dunk. Barbosa answers with a 3-pointer! The Suns bench is really bringing it. And yet another 3-pointer! Suns up by 9.

With all due respect to Alvin Gentry, if the reports are true, then his bench is correct. They are the finest 3-point shooting 2nd unit in the league. They should play to nail 3-pointers. A more deliberate pace just sucks the life out of them.

Lakers timeout.

6:47 in the 4th.

Just starting my Glee download, as surprisingly, Gentry decides to sit his starting unit and let his 2nd unit play on. Inspirational basketball coming from the Suns bench. And yes, I am sufficiently impressed by the energy of these Suns that I let slip a reference to my guilty pleasure, Glee. But then again, real men always allow themselves to be led by the manic purity of carefully executed passion. Uh, like the Suns, of course.

4:54 in the 4th.

Odom splits his free throws. Suns up by 9. And Goran Dragic comes up with the drive of the night, with a whirling spinning layup in off the glass. It's an 18-5 run by the Suns!

2:37 in the 4th.

Defensive 3-second violation by the Suns. Kobe drains the free throw. Gasol with the dunk. Lead is down to 6. Marv Albert is asking Doug Collins why the Lakers can't seem to adjust to the zone being thrown against them by the Suns. I suspect that the Lakers simply don't have the personnel to do so. If Bynum can't show effectively on help defense against Amare, then that presents a host of difficulties for the Lakers. More on this, maybe, later.

Kobe wills another jumper in. Suns up by 7.

1:12 in the 4th.

When Amare, ostensibly the softest rebounding big man in the league, beats you out for an important, contested rebound, perhaps it's time to reevaluate the performance of the Laker big men. Or maybe the conventional wisdom on Amare? Maybe.

The Suns bench has combined for 54 points and 16 rebounds. I think they will prove to be a significant factor throughout this series. It's not just the ability to hit 3-pointers. They bring an energy that even the Lakers starters are hard-pressed to match. I think the Lakers coaching staff has done a masterful job of masking the shortcomings of the Lakers bench thus far, but coming on the heels of this brutal bench beatdown from the Suns, they have their work cut out for them.

Final: 115-106. The series is tied at 2. Lakers-Celtics? How presumptuous!

Adventures in Nerditry

2010-05-19T10:00:00.003+08:00

It's been awhile since I shared anything of any recreational value on my blog, but for some reason, this entry on Tibetans Kicking Ass at High Altitudes really made my day. While the article itself was informative, the author's observation that "The people of Tibet are essentially Fremen of the heights", was precisely the sort of provocation that nerds salivate over. Sifting through the comments will reward the patient reader in dire need of an intellectual riposte to boredom and general gloominess.

Fremen of the heights? Genius!

Photo Credits:

Picture comes courtesy of Wikipedia.

Not Noy. Not Mar. But, Noy Mar.

2010-05-11T06:21:00.007+08:00

Millions of Filipinos have cast their vote. I cannot recall any election in recent memory, perhaps with the notable exception of the election that ushered in the first Aquino administration, that bears the burden of so much promise.

Such was the intoxicating fragility of hope, that my selection process for the presidency was accompanied by an impassioned rationality normally associated with the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith.

The ills that beset our beloved country are so widespread, so malignant, and so ingrained in the way that the contemporary Filipino views himself or herself that one term in office is not enough. Which is why I found myself confronted by an epiphany that even my vainglorious pretensions to profundity could not reduce to simpler terms. Not Noy. Not Mar. But, Noy Mar.

I have the deepest respect for erstwhile administration candidate, Gilbert Teodoro. He ran an intelligent, remarkably decent campaign that was memorable more for the coherence with which he expressed his views on governance as opposed to the many aspersions cast upon his candidacy by his association with the Arroyo administration. That, to my mind, is a feat in itself.

I am also a great admirer of Senator Richard Gordon. He is a gifted administrator and vociferously intelligent legislator. Yet, as he himself commented late in the campaign, he is a "Dick", not a "dictator". Sadly, this seems true on both counts.

But, to my mind, to vote for anyone who believes that his herculean efforts could save our fledgling democracy, or for anyone who cannot guarantee a continuity of competent government service is both myopic and selfish.

We deserve a president and a vice-president who are friends, and not strange bedfellows thrown together by stranger politics. While friendship, camaraderie, and the ability to work well with one another are not essential traits in politics, they are important traits in team sports. Democracy works not because of the ability of individuals to work for the common good. It works because individuals pool their abilities to work together for the common good.

We deserve a president and a vice-president whose candidacies are based on an act of statesmanship. However one might view Mar's decision to give way in favor of Noy, one has to admit that the act itself, bereft of insinuation or skeptical interpretation, is admirable.

We deserve a government where whatever positive reforms enacted by the current administration may be carried over into the next administration. What is wrong with carrying over the effective policies and reforms enacted by the previous administration? Nothing. Why haven't we done so? Because traditional politics has always proven weightier than transformative politics.

We deserve a government that can look beyond the next presidential elections. We deserve NoyMar.

Blogging Kuching!

2010-05-06T06:55:00.007+08:00

One of the reasons I am looking forward to the May 10 elections is the fact that as the elections draw nearer, I find myself having more time to blog. Lately, it seems that almost everything that I am personally involved in has hit some sort of milestone, and it annoys me that I can't share these wonderful events with the dozen or so people who read my blog.

Last month, Board of Trustees of Alpha Philippines attended the Alpha Conference in Kuching, Malaysia. And because the Chairman of Alpha Philippines cannot help but cross busy intersections with a grace and reserve normally ascribed to monarchies long consigned to the dustbin of history, we were glad to have the Ralph Lumo and Bodie Zamora along for the trip as well, as they ably provided some form of security for our jaywalking nobility.

The conference, ostensibly a forum for yours truly to conduct a one-man show in front of a bemused Nicky Gumbel, allowed us to catch up with some old friends. We were able to meet up with my good friend Raj from India. Raj, of course, is notable for the overwhelming humility with which he prays for all of us, and the massive number of people he has praying with him. As one of my cheekier Alpha friends put it, "Every time he prays, it seems that half of Bangalore is at the prayer meeting!" But then again, that's just Ralph and his competitive nature talking. Oops, sorry buddy! I didn't mean to mention your name. My bad.

We were also able to congratulate, in person, friends who have taken the phrase "growing Alpha family" much too literally. Audrey Chai, my long suffering Alpha stalwart in the Asia Pacific office, is finally engaged. Interestingly enough, she's getting married to a gentleman whom she met while we were both in London some time ago. In hindsight, I think Audrey is grateful that Lai Wei, Lillian, Raj and I taught her a thing or two about absconding from responsibility and hurling one's self willingly into the arms of Krispy Kreme at Harrod's.

Another dear friend, Clare Bradford, is also getting married. Perhaps due to the spirit of adventure that allowed her to brave the heated urban jungle that is Manila, her honeymoon will be marked by a climb up Mt. Kota Kinabalu. Despite the fact that her wedding is set for the end of May, she still found time to pound another nail in her head by actually working towards the Kuching conference prior to flying back to London to settle some family related matters before flying back to Kota Kinabalu for her wedding. I think I just suffered jet lag typing in that last sentence. Still, what wonderful news!

And while I could bore my patient readership with moving accounts of how the Alpha Course, through its aims of reevangelization and social transformation, is making such a significant impact in the lives of so many Christians throughout the world, allow me to share, instead some of the more memorable snapshots of our deeply fulfilling Kuching trip. Enjoy!

Cool News at Chuvaness!

2010-04-27T08:57:00.004+08:00

I apologize for the lack of activity in my blog. As many of my long suffering readers know, at times, a lack of activity in my blog only indicates a surfeit of activity elsewhere.

While I try to upload the wonderful events in the advocacies nearest and dearest to my heart, allow me to share an entry that appeared in my lovely cousin-in-law's infinitely more popular blog. Here, Chuvaness and cooly critical Noemi Lardizabal-Dado invited Meralco representatives to shed light on the astronomical cost, it seems, of surviving the summer heat.

Enjoy!

Easter Mysteries

2010-04-05T08:29:00.003+08:00

For many precocious children, the real mystery of Easter is how bunnies can somehow produce eggs. Precocious children of a slightly more mischievous inclination would extend this mystery to how bunnies who miraculously produce eggs seem to have strewn them all over the place. Ah, to be young and concerned with bunnies, eggs, and the miracle of sharing!

While most adult Christians would insist, and rightly so, that the true miracle of Easter concerns the Christ who rose again from the dead, may we never lose the spirit of discovery and wonder that allows us to meditate on the incongruity of bunnies that lay eggs, and the Christ that celebrates such hunts with joy and laughter.

Happy Easter everyone!

Delayed Liveblog on Pacquiao-Clottey!

2010-03-14T08:43:00.005+08:00

(NOTE: I originally intended to liveblog the fight. But since the fight was such an interminable bore, allow me instead to allude to the interesting parts of the fight, all of which occurred in Autohaus BMW.)

This probably marks the first time that I have been dragged to a sporting event solely because of the enthusiasm of my friends and loved ones. Unlike my good friend Ralph, who prefers watching games where the probability of victory of his favored team is a 100%, I actually like watching sporting events precisely because there is no guarantee that my side will win. I would actually rank a Pacquiao-Clottey fight below a Nets-Wizards game, because in the latter, the desire to avoid the most embarrassing win-total in NBA history practically guarantees a passionate game, if one bereft of the skills and plays that characterize professional basketball.

Still, Jeroen has been one of my most consistent sporting event companions in the past five years. Moreover, Jeroen is Dutch, and a huge Manny Pacquiao fan. Jeroen's ardent support for Manny recalls a religious fervor of Nazarene proportions, and his love for his adopted country matches the outwardly patriotic pronunciations of any Filipino running for office this year. So yes, one could say that I was shamed into watching Pacquiao-Clottey.

My brother-in-law, Bodie, greets us just inside Autohaus BMW. He's in shorts and a t-shirt. He says he hasn't slept yet. He looks the way all Filipinos want Clottey to feel later. Good foreshadowing.

We're joined at our table by Blues Bad Boy, Joniver Robles. He also hasn't slept yet. He and Bodie ought to start a club. We devour a fantastic breakfast meal of Wagyu striploin, and are adequately lubricated with bottomless coffee. Someone just got knocked out, I think. We're not paying attention to the undercard bouts.

Brian Viloria is tiny beside Quinito Henson! He makes some good points though.

Tito Benjie Atilano just won a Nike Team Pacquiao jacket. Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy.

Iza Calzado just came in. I think she's a friend of Sherwin and his lovely wife, Tracy. She gamely poses for a picture. I'm not easily impressed by celebrities, but she's very gracious, and despite the dragging bore the fight eventually turned out to be, lively and cheerful. A class act through and through.

I'm just randomly constructing sentences because all the coffee I've drank has triggered a nervous energy that no amount of Pacquiao-Clottey pre-fight commentary can leech off. Bodie, Jeroen and Joniver are making fun of my attempts to connect to the internet.

My fellow Ondoy Relief Center veteran, and all around cool kid, Jared Joven is in the house!

My feeble attempts to connect to the internet were actually a blessing in disguise. While I appreciate Joshua Clottey's single-minded commitment to not getting knocked out, I could have done away with his single-minded commitment to never throw a punch. I think I actually slept through rounds 5,6, and 7. I hope Clottey enjoys his minor payday, because I don't think any big money fights will be coming his way anytime soon.

The fight was so boring, Jared and I had all the time in the world to pose for this picture.

All in all, this was a fight that could not, in any way, match the enthusiasm of its viewers. I hope Manny's subsequent opponents don't adopt the strategy that Clottey employed for this snooze fest. I will always respect a man's right to a decent livelihood, but this was ridiculous! It's almost as if Clottey didn't even want to try.

Papot 1, Manuel 0.

2010-03-13T13:36:00.004+08:00

My son, Manuel, is deeply into the "No!" stage. Ordinarily, when loving, nurturing parents are confronted by the developmental stage wherein their child seeks the safety of boundaries by saying "No!" to everything that is the least bit contrary to their desires as opposed to their needs, they patiently go through the entire, laborious process of firmly establishing these much-needed boundaries by explaining matters thoroughly and setting examples judiciously.

My wife and I, on the other hand, just let my sister Papot loose on Manuel. The following is an exchange that Papot had with Manuel when we went to Zambales to celebrate my dad's birthday.

"Hi dear!"

"I'm not a dear!"

"Hi love!"

"I'm not a love!"

"Hi Manuel!"

"I'm not...Manuel."

Papot 1, Manuel 0. Tina and I are enjoying this thoroughly.

Gifts!

2010-03-01T11:04:00.006+08:00

My birthday has come and gone, and I would like to take some time to thank the people who have made the burden of my years a willing yoke to bear.

As always, my family remains foremost in my thoughts.

My loving wife Tina, shown here with my brother-in-law Mike Puzon, Ralph Lumo, Boj Pineda, and a sleeping Juan Salvador Z. Borra.

My papa and mama. They cared enough to raise me right.

My favorite sisters, Papot, Joanna, and Therese.

My favorite father-in-law, Salvador B. Zamora II and some good friends: Eudaldo "Benjie" C. Atilano, Jr., Sherwin Mendiola, Jun Fernandez.

I would also like to thank my co-celebrant, the Philippine National Red Cross, ably represented by Geraldine Repollo and a literal cast of thousands. In lieu of my appreciation, which is impoverished when considered alongside your daily heroic, anonymous efforts, allow me to share some pictures, which may be found here.

On a lighter note, I am glad, despite my stated desire that in lieu of gifts donations be made instead to my favorite outreach organizations, some of my friends were just too stubborn to do so. Many thanks to Chuvaness and her wonderful husband, and constant World Cup viewing companion, Jeroen for the limited edition C2 My Pilipinas Moleskine notebook and the Team Manila Pepper Lunch notebook.

I am ashamed to report, as my wife will undoubtedly gleefully recount this the next time we meet, that I squealed like a girl when I opened your gifts.

Truly, my cup overflows with the milk of human kindness. Have a wonderful week!

In Baby Magazine This February: Sheldon Cooper?

2010-02-17T04:05:00.006+08:00

This article may be found in full, with wonderful illustrations by Natasha Bautista, in this month's Baby Magazine. Please buy the magazine, if only for Ms. Bautista's wonderful depiction of a parallel universe Sheldon Cooper manfully struggling through the travails of married life. Of course, non-nerds who are unfamiliar with the wonder that is The Big Bang Theory can instead revel in a celebration of the month of love the Baby Magazine way. Further details are available here.

I just thought, that so soon after Valentine's Day, this article, which was written right before Carmen Amparo was born, would be a great reminder for lovers both young and young at heart.

Enjoy!

When You Say Nothing at All: Can You Read my Mind?

A panda walks into a café. He orders a sandwich, eats it, then draws a gun and proceeds to riddle the wall with a hail of bullets.

“Why?” asks the confused waiter, as the panda makes towards the exit. The panda produces a badly punctuated wildlife manual and tosses it over his shoulder.

“Well, I’m a panda”, he says, at the door. “Look it up.”

The waiter turns to the relevant entry in the manual and, sure enough, finds an explanation. “Panda. Large black-and-white bear-like mammal, native to China. Eats, shoots and leaves.”

Miscommunication among married couples may provide rich entertainment for modern situational comedies, or situations that call for light, sophisticated banter among friends and family. But as is often the case with humor, which relies upon a shift in perspective from seriousness to frivolity, it is just as easy for a seemingly humorous occasion to descend from frivolity to seriousness. What happens when misplaced “commas” reduce “loving pandas” to gun-toting wildlife?

It is important to understand that in marriage, many noble aspirations are wedded to the reality of equally plentiful emotional reactions. How does one make sense of dizzying cacophony which occurs when the ideal clashes with the actual? How does one, in the spirit of the musings of popular music philosophers Patti Austin and James Ingram, keep the music playing?

Here are some tips which could help married couples understand just how much they love one another:

When You Say Nothing at All, You Say Nothing at All.

The image of the taciturn, long-suffering, wise-cracking husband is a staple in most contemporary representations of the modern family. While this is often executed to exaggerated effect, there is some truth to this stereotype.

Many men feel that by performing their roles as providers, they have discharged their primary contribution to their families. As such, they would rather not deal with minutiae such as monitoring the activities of the children, doing the grocery, or maintaining a general level of cleanliness, that running a household demands.

Yet, it is precisely in that quagmire of hyperactive children, incomplete grocery lists and mite-infested rooms that a loving wife willingly loses herself in. At work, many professionals often talk about their work as a way of reinforcing professional and personal ties with one another. Doesn’t your spouse deserve the same courtesy?

Perhaps one should heed the advice offered by Captain Von Trapp in the movie “The Sound of Music”: nothing comes from nothing. Invest in your spouse. The interest, both in terms of a growing intimacy between spouses and a renewed appreciation for the many different forms such joyful sacrifices entail, is well worth the initial investment. If one is truly dedicated to making a marriage work, then one must begin by willing to share their daily experiences with one another.

Can You Read my Mind? Uh, No.

George Bernard Shaw once observed that “The single biggest problem in communication is the illusion that it has taken place.” This is especially true of married couples. Due to the increasingly complex nature of modern life, men and women sometimes inadvertently fall back on modes of behavior that they are more familiar with.

While men and women have come along way from the Paleolithic era, what with the recession of sagittal crests and the advent of opposable thumbs, at times, it is just too easy to perform strictly delineated sociocultural roles such as hunter-gatherer and nurturer: that men simply provide food for the family, and that women provide for home and hearth.

Expectations rising from such assumptions could be a source of miscommunication. This seems to be the case with men, especially those who have found uses for their opposable thumbs beyond twiddling them. Men, at the end of a hard day’s work, might want to spend some time relaxing at home before pitching in with some household chores. While men might not always be in the mood to digest a comedy upon entering the family home, it is with reasonable certainty that we can assert that they will never be in a mood to be confronted by a tragedy.

When a wife greets her husband with an endless litany of woes suffered at the hands of boisterous children, indifferent plumbers, or a cruel consumer-driven society, she does not help him resolve to be more active in the preservation of their family life and the different duties, responsibilities and joys that it consists in. Rather, she’s simply making it easy for her husband to resolve not to be home early enough to listen to that tragic summation of her working day, perhaps ever.

More Today than Yesterday

“Marriage is an institution in which the man loses his Bachelor’s degree and the woman gets her Master’s.”

While the joke above pokes gentle fun at the role of husbands and wives in marriage, there is some truth to the premise that the joke is founded on: that marriage enforces change on the people who enter it. As such, the admonition “You knew the person he/she was when you married him/her,” an admonition that many parents bludgeon into their mature offspring prior to Holy Matrimony, holds true. The good news, however, is that it is possible to change, and for the better.

It is important to understand that people marry not just because they want to find an appropriate expression for the love that they share. People also marry because they realize that their shared love is merely the beginning. It could be so much more.
One way of encouraging married couples to share, renew, and revise their visions of happily wedded bliss is for husband and wife to keep journals. In these journals, it is best to start by writing down what the married imagine wedded bliss to be like, and ton constantly appraise it from the point of view of everyday life. Journal entries don’t have to be drenched in metaphors, or dripping with profundity. It could be as simple as the song from the classic musical, “You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown”:

Happiness is two kinds of ice cream...
Knowing a secret
Climbing a tree.

Happiness is five different crayons...
Catching a firefly
Setting him free.

Make sure that the journals are updated regularly, and that time is set aside to share the journals’ contents. The entries may be read silently, or out loud. Just remember that whatever the couple documents should hew closely to the spirit of the chorus:

Happiness is morning and evening,
Daytime and nighttime too.
For happiness is anyone and anything at all
That's loved by you.

Gentle, warm and light-hearted reminders of why husbands and wives married one another in the first place are the best way of both renewing themselves in wedded bliss and moving forward to discover just how much more there is to be joyful about.

Photo Credits:

Picture of Dr. Sheldon Cooper comes courtesy of Swarls Barkley at Fan Pop.

Ralph Lumo is The Big Bang in Singapore!

2010-01-28T08:39:00.015+08:00

It would be a great disservice to all the wonderful friends that we made at the Youth Alpha Training seminar if I were to reduce our singular, Spirit-filled Singapore experience to a few pithy paragraphs on the shared belief in faith, hope, and love that cemented our friendship.

Moreover, Ralph distinctly reminded me that the seal of the confessional is in effect for much of what occurred during those three memorable days where we all drank deeply of the fountain of grace and mercy that is Jesus Christ.

As such, I will not mention the following:

That Benjamin Seow had to take out his iPod to confirm whether or not it was Ralph Lumo, and not Leonard Hofstadter who attended the training.

Or that The Big Bang Theory refers to the phenomenon that is Ralph Lumo and the ease with which he makes and nurtures friendships despite the paucity of time and the difficulties presented by distance.

That Soosay masterfully correlated pop-culture relevance with today's youth with "global warming".

Or that one is alternately “cool” or “hot”, but whether or not that’s a good thing depends on context and the era the person you’re talking to comes from. Interestingly enough, all the males from the Malaysian delegation prefer to be “cool”, while the ladies refer to themselves as “hot”.

That Jeffrey Marquardsen was asked to lead prayers before meals to the tune of the old Richard Donner helmed Superman movies.

Or that Arnold Sanico “accidentally” wore his Superman shirt on the last day of the seminar.

That given an opportunity to go out and relax with the rest of the very youthful delegation, Dr. Benie A. Sy, yours truly and Ralph Lumo opted to go to the 7-11 in front of the hotel instead of grabbing a drink at Bugis Village.

Or that Dr. Benie A. Sy, yours truly and Ralph Lumo are in any way getting older. Suffice to say, none of these gentlemen could ever be mistaken for Youth Alpha participants.

If anyone else recalls anything that they do not wish to mention, please feel free to let me know. Enjoy!

Photo Credits:

Picture of Johnny Galecki as Leonard Hofstadter comes courtesy of TV Fanatic

Liveblogging BannAlphaTent!

2010-01-20T10:54:00.008+08:00

Part of the reason for my relative inactivity online is the rich variety of meaningful human activity that I invest myself in during the day. It is important to note that "meaningful human activity" can be as close or as far from work as one can conceive, which sort of gives you an idea of what my day often looks like. As such, allow me to celebrate the controlled, cheerful craziness that is my working day by liveblogging everything that happens before lunch.

And so we begin!

I brought my mama to the Bannister Academy office, which is in Calle Industria, right beside Eastwood City. She's pretty impressed with the way the developer hosting our school, Circulo Verde, is turning out. She's asking a lot of questions about the school as well, which more or less stop once I make glowing comparisons to what she thinks the Ateneo is all about. Ah yes, it must be wonderful to be the Ateneo. Instant street cred with all mothers born after the Second World War. This means a lot when the only world conflict of that magnitude that my generation and I remember involves either twenty two men kicking a ball, ten men dunking a ball, or two men trying to prove who has the bigger balls.

Here's a sneak peek at what our school looks like.

Eventually, it's going to look like this. Cool, right?

I drop by the Ateneo Alumni Affairs office and get my alumni ID. Finally, my beloved college ID can be laid to rest, perhaps in a hyperbaric chamber in order to preserve a archival document which accurately captures my dashing good looks and cheerful intellectual bonhomie. Here are the IDs side by side for comparison. Hmm. It might be difficult to sequence these IDs as part of a historical archive without revealing sensitive information. Must remember to upload a low-res pic later.

While browsing through a display of Sesquicentennial merchandise I come across The 18th Banner. My friend Kim found it a good read, so I get myself a copy.

When I get back to the office, I review some documents. Inadvertently, I catch Ralph as he was perusing the Wikipedia entry of Glee. He mumbles something about supposedly manly football players "singing some song" while chasing "some ring" on the show. Ralph realizes that his initial alibi raises more questions regarding the requisite amount of testosterone levels in a office unit that invites men to bear their hearts unashamedly to Jesus than he's willing to endure, so he starts mumbling about "a girl" on the show who happens to be "hot".

Whatever. I'm getting him the High School Musical DVD Boxed Set, which ought to look absolutely darling beside his copy of Glee Vol. One: Road to Sectionals.

Ralph casually drops by my office to mention that someone's waging war against his Mafia in Mafia Wars. Ralph's on fire! He's putting the "non" in "nonchalant" right now. He says that despite the many offers of his manly friends to defend his family's honor online, he will decline the opportunity to do violence. "It's not Christian." I wish I was making this stuff up. It's like he owns the intellectual property rights to "men who overcompensate due to a shameful recognition of soft-assed sensitivity". Thanks Ralph!

Note: Due to site maintenance over at Photobucket, this entry was not uploaded on time. My apologies!

A Geek is Born? Flight of Dragons!

2010-01-11T09:35:00.006+08:00

Most people start the year by making resolutions they have no intention of keeping. My family, on the other hand, began the new year by greeting, with cheerful resolution, a lovely little gift that we have every intention of keeping. Little Carmen Amparo Zamora Borra already has quite a substantial following on Facebook, as news of her birth was greeted with a spontaneous outpouring of joy last seen when the Red Sox finally ended their pennant drought in 2004.

And while Carmen Amparo's arrival was not accompanied by a total lunar eclipse (a poignant moment which many Red Sox fans recount, with sacramental solemnity, whenever they talk of the night in which they finally overcame the Curse of the Bambino) it was distinguished by my re-discovery of a classic epic fantasy movie that sustained me during my childhood:

Interestingly enough, whenever I think of my kids' futures, I always end up praying that the formative experiences of their youth would be cooler than mine. As a thin, devastatingly handsome, and brilliant young 3rd grader, I was often the object of scorn and derision from my less gifted contemporaries. A retreat into epic fantasy was the only way I could conceal my nascent gifts until the time comes when I could reveal myself in my startling splendor and take my rightful place as...

Well, let's just say that a retreat into fantasy was less an option than a categorical imperative. I pray that Carmen will enjoy entertainment as lovingly crafted, and substantial as that John Ritter movie, The Flight of Dragons.

New Year at Poro Point

2009-12-31T10:18:00.007+08:00

It suddenly occurred to me that I am probably less skilled at conveying a sense of wonder about places than I am at conveying a sense of wonder about books and ideas. Or perhaps I do not bore people as much when I write about places than when I write, to pretentious and unwittingly sad, sardonic effect, about books and ideas. Nevertheless, and with the aid of several clumsily composed and executed pictures, allow me to describe the quiet little refuge that is Poro Point.

As one who secretly feels pity for expatriates who gush at the slightest hint of a tropical paradise that their Western upbringing has not prepared them for, I have high standards for idyllic tropical getaways. From my room, the view of the South China Sea is spectacular. As such, I am reluctant to even post pictures of the view. But an honest sense of shame at my ineptitude often escapes me, and so here is poorly composed, badly lit, and otherwise awful shot of what the view must be like at sunset.

Since I have three water-logged, yet beach-starved children, a safe yet accessible swimming area is a must. My children and I were not disappointed by their charming Mediterranean-inspired pool or the quaint little beach which is nestled to the right of the pool, cosseted by cliffs. It's the sort of lazy, comforting, sun-worshipping setting that practically demands a mojito.

The food might not invite comparison to decidedly gourmet fare, but is satisfying both in terms of taste and variety. The menu offers a good balance of Continental, Italian and Filipino fare. There is also a kiddie menu with the requisite junior sized burgers, pasta and chicken meals, none of which can successfully pry buoyant youngsters from the water for very long.

Lastly, I must commend the resort for providing free hi-speed internet access and wifi which is so much faster than what I enjoy at home that I've successfully downloaded more cult classics and rarities than I've had all year. An unexpected, yet welcome treat.

I pray that you receive the new year with the warmth and subtle sense of spectacle that good cheer brings. Enjoy!

No Gifts!

2009-12-17T10:00:00.004+08:00

No gifts.

This holiday season, I've decided to release people from the burden of giving me gifts. Gifts should not be an obstacle to celebrating the season of giving. Rather, gifts should represent freedom from the cheerless sense of duty that our trying circumstances have compelled us to endure. With all that we as a people have suffered this year, we deserve to celebrate more than just our resilience, or our capacity for self-sacrifice.

We deserve to celebrate what this season, to some extent, is all about: how the entirety of Christendom came about when a child was born.

This holiday season, if you can, try to avoid giving me gifts. Instead, celebrate with the joyful abandon of one to whom the economic cost of Christmas is no longer a burden, but a distant memory. And perhaps recall how by celebrating in joy, we allow ourselves, much like Mary and Joseph and a significant representation of the domesticated animals commonly associated with humble beginnings, to be surprised by sanctity.

Many thanks!

What We Read, We Celebrate!

2009-12-11T09:08:00.006+08:00

In lieu of my usual ramblings on issues close to my heart, allow me instead to share with you an experience that lies at the very heart of the season we celebrate.

We read in Luke 1:26-27,

“In the sixth month, the angel Gabriel was sent from God to a town of Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the house of David, and the virgin’s name was Mary.”

What we do not read, but celebrate is that Mary, the mother of our Lord, was born in a town called Nazareth, and that this town was so obscure, the first recorded use of the word “Nazareth” was in the New Testament.

Nazareth, in our Lord’s time, was in all likelihood the pre-Christian equivalent of Hicksville.

We read in Luke 1:28-33,

“And coming to her, he said, ‘Hail, favored one! The Lord is with you.’ But she was greatly troubled at what was said and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. Then the angel said to her, ‘Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give him the throne of David his father, and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.’”

What we read, but do not celebrate often enough is that the Angel Gabriel reminds Mary that there is no need to be afraid. Whether this is proof that angels are beautiful beyond belief, or something else, is beside the point. But there is no need to be afraid. Unless to you, looks are everything. In which case, fear would be the least of your problems.

We read in Luke 1: 34-38,

“But Mary said to the angel, ‘How can this be, since I have no relations with a man?’ And the angel said to her in reply, ‘The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. Therefore the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God. And behold, Elizabeth, your relative, has also conceived a son in her old age, and this is the sixth month for her who was called barren; for nothing will be impossible for God.’ Mary said, ‘Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.’

What we read, but do not celebrate often enough, is that after a series of startling revelations, emphasized by the altogether terrific news that Elizabeth has conceived a son despite her barrenness, is Mary’s simple reply: ‘Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.’

And so, in the spirit of Christmas, we celebrate the wonderful assent that led to the birth of our Lord. That from a hick town in Galilee, visited by an unearthly being of either surpassing beauty or surpassing something, despite a series of surprises that smack of what we would call fantasy or science-fiction, Mama Mary said “Yes!” to the will of the living God.

And so, we have Christmas. Let us continually remind ourselves that some of the most beautiful things in life happen when we find the courage to say, without qualification or adornment, "Yes!"

Acknowledgments:

Readings are from The New American Bible.

It Takes Courage to Choose Life

2009-12-02T11:28:00.007+08:00

Courage comes in many forms. For some, courage involves physical bravery. History does not lack for examples of noble men and women who refused to seek safety or succor despite overwhelming odds. That's why, perhaps inspite of the movie, we still remember the courageous stand of the 300 Spartans at Thermopylae. For others, courage involves sacrifice. Again, history is quick to point out many sterling examples of conscious self-sacrifice for the sake of a greater good. That's why, again perhaps inspite of the overwhelmingly saccharine, almost saintly portrayal of Gandhi in the movie "Gandhi", we still remember the unyielding courage of Mohandas K. Gandhi and the principle of satyagraha.

And yet, for a few, courage involves nothing than an almost singular passion for the truth, and the determination to be ruled by it. One such person is Roberto F. de Ocampo. He writes in Kill "Bill"?:

AT THE outset I have to admit that I am no stranger to condoms and can attest to their effectiveness. I have four children and could have had more but my wife and I agreed that four was enough and implemented that plan accordingly. Furthermore, the bulk of my career had been in public service from the founding of the rural electrification program (early ’70s) to my stint in the Cabinet, and thus I have been to every nook and cranny of the Philippines and have seen the full range of poverty in our country. Given this quick background, one would think that I should be an obvious supporter of the Reproductive Health (RH) bill. I am not. I have serious misgivings about it.

And so, having thrown the gauntlet, Mr. de Ocampo proceeds to articulate, with passionate reason and carefully tempered outrage, why the RH Bill is not merely flawed but is, ultimately, ruinous for all those who respect and cultivate life.

This leads me to my second serious misgiving, namely, the present draft bill contains punitive provisions that are tantamount to an affront to civil liberties and smack of religious persecution. Just read the section mandating private sector employees and private health practitioners to actively promote artificial birth control methods and distribute devices whether or not their conscience and religious convictions agree with the practice. Combine that with the section imposing penalties of imprisonment or fines or both if they don’t follow or are deemed guilty of “perceived violations” and tell me that the bill does not encroach on basic civil rights. Tell me that the bill does not unfairly force a person into a moral dilemma, a State-induced struggle of conscience. This is not education, it’s coercion. This is not choice, it’s threat.

Of course, there are those who would say, “don’t worry, the legislators will get rid of those provisions in the final version.” I wish I could be so sanguine as to simply smile and accept that. But I am not a novice of the legislative process and have been in the trenches of legislative battles often enough to know that a bill’s passage is not a clinical operation but goes from compromise to compromise and finally ends up with implementing rules and regulations to provide it with sharper enforcement teeth. Whatever the outcome, the law cannot be so toothless as to be useless, or why have a bill at all? If it is a law with teeth, it has to be enforced and enforcement of laws often involves the arena of litigation. Litigation on the other hand opens the door for abuses by the unscrupulous and the harassment of even the upright citizen. I don’t know about you, but I for one am not prepared to surrender one of my most sacred human rights and personal choices by seeing it transferred by the State from the arena of personal morality and conscience to the arena of legislation and litigation.

Finally, I find it truly disingenuous for anyone to proceed on the premise that the poor are to blame for the nation’s poverty. This seems to be one of the bill’s underlying economic philosophies—i.e., we could be such a richer nation if the poor would do something better than just go forth and multiply. Pardon me, but in the context of our income-distribution challenged society, the poor are often the victims, not the problem. And let’s not forget that it’s the poor, not the wealthy, whose acknowledged sacrifices as overseas workers are propping up this struggling economy. If a major concern of the bill is to help reduce poverty, then I cannot believe that the bill’s proponents and supporters are unaware of the many other major factors that are the root causes of poverty (poor governance, corruption, severely unequal distribution of wealth, low productivity, unattractive investment policies, etc.) and, of course, the many other alternatives that can be brought to bear to address them (giving up pork barrel, reforming land reform, raising tax collection efficiency, curtailing dynastic politics, etc.).

Courage comes in many forms. Some of them come clad in nothing more than a loincloth, and involves the evisceration of their hated foes. Others still come clad in nothing more than yet another loincloth, and involves turning hatred into admiration.

Today, we are privileged to be reminded once again of the many forms courage can take. And one of them is former Finance Secretary, perpetual raconteur, and sometime lounge singer, Roberto F. de Ocampo.

Angels and Demons

2009-11-27T05:38:00.004+08:00

Dan Brown, one of the most accomplished storytellers of the 21st century, is also the author of some of the most poorly constructed opening sentences in publishing history. To wit:

Renowned curator Jacques Saunière staggered through the vaulted archway of the museum's Grand Gallery.

Physicist Leonardo Vetra smelled burning flesh, and he knew it was his own.

Death, in this forsaken place, could come in countless forms. Geologist Charles Brophy had endured the savage splendor of this terrain for years, and yet nothing could prepare him for a fate as barbarous and unnatural as the one about to befall him.

As linguist Geoffrey K. Pullum noted before in his highly informative and snarkily entertaining post , "The simple fact is that if you are ever mentioned on page 1 of a Dan Brown novel you will be mentioned with an anarthrous occupational nominal premodifier ('Renowned linguist Geoff Pullum staggered across the savage splendor of the forsaken Santa Cruz campus, struggling to remove the knife plunged unnaturally into his back by a barbarous millionaire novelist'), and you will have died a painful and horrible death by page 2, along with several curiously ill-chosen clichés and mangled idioms."

In literature, one can judge the worthiness of novels by the artistry and economy of their opening sentences. Who can forget, for example, the profound simplicity with which Gabriel Garcia Marquez begins Love in the Time of Cholera? "It was inevitable: the scent of bitter almonds always reminded him of the fate of unrequited love."

But what is true of literature is not quite true when one considers public perception: truly, he who laughs last, laughs last. And it is with the full, bitter regret of scented almonds that I lament the painful and horrible beating that the Filipino people has taken due to the brutal inhumanity of the perpetrators of the massacre in Maguindanao.

The sublime artistry with which Manny Pacquiao dispatched Miguel Cotto? Forgotten.

The overwhelming generosity of spirit with which Efren Penaflorida shares the best of himself and by extension, the Filipino people, with the urban poor? It's almost as if Penaflorida's courageous selflessness never happened.

Instead, we are left with the grim reminder that man is a killer angel, whose sometime, lamentable descent into barbarism stems from a fatal misunderstanding of Hamlet's observation:

What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how
infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and
admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like
a god!

It is only when we act as if we are gods that we cease to be human.

We lament what happened in Maguindanao. But let us remember what also happens whenever we recall that our lot in life is not simply to be the authors of tragedies. Mother Theresa once said, "Do not think that love, in order to be genuine, has to be extraordinary. What we need is to love without getting tired." This guy does not tire. Neither should we. Hope floats. And with hope, truth.

Photo Credits:

Picture comes courtesy of Gulf News

Champions

2009-11-17T10:26:00.006+08:00

Last Sunday, I didn't just watch a boxing match. I witnessed a transformation. Two brutally skilled boxers, by virtue of their sublime dedication to professional brutality, became champions.

What does it mean to be a champion? Does it mean, simply, to win? Perhaps. And yet, even a slight perusal of recorded sporting history would yield the following observation: many of the champions whose greatness has stood the test of time did not possess sporting records untarnished by defeat. But they all possessed sporting records where their defeats were untarnished by surrender.

Boxing pundit Saad Farooqi wrote very movingly about what characterized the finest boxing champions that the modern world has been privileged to witness:

When one says Ali is the greatest fighter (regardless of whether one agrees or not) of all time we aren’t thinking of young Cassius Clay hammering Liston into submission. We aren’t thinking of the dance master blitzing his opponents from countless angles and directions. To tell the truth, we think Ali/Frazier or Ali/Foreman. We think of a heavier, slower aging boxer his skills no longer glossed with youth and speed. The Ali we call "The Greatest" is the boxer who stepped in the ring against an opponent no one gave him a chance to win and then winning it. That was what made him the greatest: courage. It was him proving to boxing pundits that you can never measure human spirit or guess what it is capable of...

And that’s what boxing is all about: courage and character. Miguel Cotto and Manny Pacquiao showed that throughout their fight. It’s not skill or power or technique that defines a boxer as much as it does his courage to do what most men and women won’t even dream about.

It is easier to understand this from the perspective of the valiant Cotto. He had every reason in the world to give up. He didn't. That took courage.

It is harder to understand this from the perspective of the victor. Manny Pacquiao won, and in a very convincing fashion. But that's not why he is, ultimately, a winner. Anyone can win due to an overwhelming display of talent, skill, and passion. But very few people win with a grace that ennobles both the victor and the vanquished. After the fight, Manny refused to crow about his victory.

“I always tell myself that I am just an ordinary fighter, but I have to beat the best fighters and sometimes I can,” he said.

Sometimes, those who believe that they are just ordinary people who, by virtue of their skill, passion and determination end up with the wonderful opportunity to compete at the highest level, end up as winners. But always, they end up as champions.

Photo Credits:

Picture of Manny Pacquiao and Miguel Cotto comes courtesy of GMA News.

Sometimes When We Touch

2009-11-05T12:28:00.007+08:00

By now, I suppose everyone has seen the video of Manny Pacquiao serenading a worldwide audience with his interpretation of Sing-Along-Kot staple, Sometimes When we Touch. Just in case you haven't, please click on the embedded video below.

Many Filipinos of my acquaintance are quick to voice their reactions to Manny's performance on Jimmy Kimmel Live. Most negative reactions range from "Don't give up your day job" to "He's an embarrassment to the Filipino people." It is to those who belong in the latter extreme that I address this blog entry.

Conrado de Quiros once observed that "I’ve seen athletes turn from ferocious to meek when interviewed after stunning victories, finding the task of organizing their thoughts or expressing themselves in another language far more daunting than the challenge they had just faced. Pacquiao was not one of them. He was as fearless facing his interviewer as he was facing Ricky Hatton."

Manny's boundless confidence in himself led de Quiros to postulate that perhaps it is this hard earned self-assurance, this certainty in both his talent and his self-worth, that is Manny Pacquiao's biggest strength. To jaded eyes, it seems that majority of social structures in the Philippines are designed to reinforce a sense of inferiority, or at the very least, a limited and limiting understanding of "one's place" in life. Manny, like most world-class Filipino talents, refuses to see himself in those terms. As, de Quiros once again pointed out, "Though his answers were humble, his demeanor was not. He was unfazed by the crowd, he was unfazed by the cameras, he was unfazed by his English. They were merely of the order of facing another foe, not unlike the one in the ring, and vanquishing them."

Perhaps we should be less concerned about Manny's perceived inability to do justice to a sentimental old love song. Instead, maybe we should consider that we have the privilege of witnessing a world-class Filipino talent, by proving that he can fail at something, rectify an injustice deeper and more insidious than annihilating the opus penned by Dan Hill: that our understanding of ourselves as a people, and our supposed self-worth, is determined by how others perceive us.

Once again, Manny has done us proud. Even in supposed failure, he remains, unreservedly, Manny Pacquiao. Sometimes, we should be touched.

Liberated and Libera

2009-11-03T09:18:00.008+08:00

While the recently concluded holidays may sometimes be a source of stress for some families, happily, this was not the case with mine. My boys and I went trick or treating next door at their preschool, and a gauntlet of sorts was passed when Lucia arrived in Manuel's old pumpkin costume, which was originally worn by their elder cousin Miguel. Pictures may be seen here.

Manuel, on the other hand, may be seen below. If there ever was a picture that fully captured how a pagan rite of passage has metamorphosed, thankfully, through the years into an innocuous and joyful celebration of youthful exuberance, it would be this picture. Janis Joplin might have sung "Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose," but in Manuel's case, freedom is just another word for candy around the corner. The boy has a sweet tooth that puts his father's to shame, and I fear that this year's Halloween celebration finally set that monster free.

A couple of days later, Dr. Antonio Torralba and I, with the able help of a sprightly Roberto F. de Ocampo, took the angel voices behind Libera to a brisk, but entertaining tour of Old Manila. Despite their obvious fatigue after a successful concert in Cebu, the young gentlemen of Libera were more than up to the task of distilling the cultural and historical marvel that is Old Manila in two hours, one proud set of ancient walls (Baluarte de San Diego), one venerable old Cathedral (Manila Cathedral), and one strategically located handicrafts shop (Manansan). The ageless, yet age-appropriate raconteur in me believes that yours truly played a big role in making their last memories of the Philippines both an educational and pleasurable one.

Ah, if only all my late Octobers and early Novembers were quite this satisfying! Pictures of the Libera tour may be seen here. Enjoy!

Ordinary People, Extraordinary Work

2009-10-28T09:12:00.005+08:00

One of the most damaging misconceptions we may form due to the hectic pace of modern living is that everything we do must be extraordinary. There is much to be said about the truly singular, as many of us have experienced over the past month: our countrymen's outpouring of generosity and goodwill to those in need will forever be etched in my mind as proof positive that the Filipino is worth dying for.

However, strictly speaking, charity is not simply about making grand gestures in the spirit of sincere sentiment. As one gleans from reading Caritas in veritate, charity bereft of truth may degenerate to mere sentimentality. And while sentimental love songs, in my experience, may soothe away a lonely night, only constant experiences of ordinary love can kiss away a lifetime spent alone.

Mother Theresa once said, "Do not think that love, in order to be genuine, has to be extraordinary. What we need is to love without getting tired."

What we need is to get some dirt under our fingernails and start the long, at times lonely, but eventually rewarding task of rebuilding. There is much to be said as well about the sanctifying anonymity of work, as many of us have experienced over the past month: our countrymen's willingness, regardless of social status or educational attainment, to volunteer in relief centers and relief missions that attended to those in need will forever be etched in my mind as proof positive that the Filipino is worth living for.

Megatent Relief Center is proud to have participated in a medical mission in Pinagbuhatan, Pasig. I would list all the people who were instrumental in making the medical mission a success, but I don't have the bandwidth. The mission was conducted in cooperation with Pasig City Hall and generous sponsors whose generosity is exceeded only by their desire to remain anonymous. Thanks to these generous souls, 7,000 people received medical attention and were given access to proper medication. More importantly, 7,000 souls received the reassurance that perfectly ordinary people, much like themselves, still cared.

We're still open, friends. More importantly, we're open to anyone who can suggest more sustainable, long-term activities to help our less fortunate countrymen start rebuilding their lives. And we promise, we won't get tired of helping those in need.

Credits:

Quote attributed to Mother Therese comes from goodreads.

Megatent Relief Center: Goes National!

2009-10-18T17:08:00.005+08:00

When we speak of rehabilitation and recovery, the easiest needs that we can address are material. The two previous typhoons may have taken much from the little that our countrymen have, but somehow we realize that we haven't lost anything that can't be replaced. We look forward, some with grim resignation and some with the wide eyed optimism of youth, to reclaiming what has been taken from us. Our homes might be under water, but hope floats. And so we move on.

From Monday to Wednesday, 10 am to 12 MN, Megatent Relief Center is proud to host the relief efforts of National Bookstore. Please join us in Relief Operation: School Supplies Edition.

For the past couple of weeks, we kept on telling ourselves that we are a nation of heroes. Well hero, it's time to rise to the occasion.

See you at Megatent Relief Center!

Megatent Relief Center: Pangasinan, Here we Come!

2009-10-14T10:48:00.006+08:00

Near the tail-end of the outreach efforts for the victims of Typhoon Ondoy last week, a young volunteer posed the question, "What do we do now?"

The short answer is, "We do what we can". As short answers rarely satisfy anyone, save for those who crave a loving union of souls sanctified by a mutual assent towards building a life together, allow me to elaborate.

"We do what we can, wherever we are." It doesn't have to end at a relief center. As I kept on repeating over and over again as the relief efforts for Ondoy came to an end, at the very heart of change is a change of heart. If your experience in helping the victims of Typhoon Ondoy have made you a more compassionate, caring, generous, joyful and loving individual, then that is a change worth building on. The bedrock of all institutional change is a simple change of heart. You change the world by first changing yourself.

Also, "We do what we can, wherever that may lead us." Goods may exit a relief center, but it takes good people to bring them to where they can bring relief. Our suffering countrymen deserve more than just a bag of relief goods. They need to know that someone cares. During more pleasurable occasions, Filipinos celebrate friendships, and they cement them with abundant smiles and copious amounts of beer. During times of crisis, Filipinos celebrate strangers, and the anonymity that bolsters the giver's nobility often gives way to abundant smiles and copious amounts of heartfelt tears.

Megatent Relief Center is going to Pangasinan this Friday. We have 5,000 bags of relief goods, a skeletal team of veteran volunteers, and little else. Don't think that we simply need more relief goods. Don't think that we simply need more volunteers. We need YOU! Let's do what we can. Wherever we are. Wherever that may lead us.

Please check Megatent Conquers Pangasinan and Baguio. We need YOU!

Photo Credits:

Pictures come courtesy of Tin Sanchez and Pong Ignacio of Ondoy Photos.

Above the Storm

2009-10-11T21:15:00.009+08:00

In the end, it's not about the numbers.

It's about the generosity of strangers, or the nobility of anonymity.

It's about the flood of volunteers, who stood taller than the floodwaters we battled against.

It's about hope amidst despair.

It's about the desire to sift through the flotsam and jetsam of our cluttered lives and finding the kindness and compassion that all of us possess.

It's about heroes. And the most wonderful realization that, much like what Mark Gosingtian so beautifully rendered in his graphic art, "where I come from, everyone's a hero".

Photo Credits:

Pictures come courtesy of The Human Chain Project: Ondoy Photos, by Pong Ignacio, The Human Chain Photos by Gabby Santos, and Mark Gosingtian.

Youth Lens: Responsible use of Facebook?

2009-09-23T12:01:00.004+08:00

It's interesting how social networking sites have made so much smaller for all of us. While I can't exactly remember when I got my Friendster account, I remember the wild abandon with which I added several hundred of my closest friends whose email I could recall. Needless to say, I stopped using my Friendster account soon after.

While the most recent incarnation of social networking sites have become much more sophisticated in terms of allowing the user to filter the information he or she is willing to share with the people they are friends with, it seems people are still adding "friends" with as much recklessness and wild abandon as my younger, thinner self. We read in The 12 Most Annoying Facebookers:

The Friend-Padder. The average Facebook user has 120 friends on the site. Schmoozers and social butterflies -- you know, the ones who make lifelong pals on the subway -- might reasonably have 300 or 400. But 1,000 "friends?" Unless you're George Clooney or just won the lottery, no one has that many. That's just showing off.

One of the reasons why I blog, other than to host friendly disputes on the RH Bill, is to share some of the cooler things that have come my way. One of the reasons why I leave the comfortable little nest that I blog from is to share how using blogs and social networking sites can help promote legitimately enlightening, non-threatening, and reasonable discussion on important issues.

I will be giving a talk tomorrow on the 4th Youth Lens Forum at University of Asia and the Pacific. This year's theme is "Getting (Dis)Connected: Youth Engagement in Social Network Sites." Talks begin at 9 am and will continue into the afternoon. For more information, please call 634-2828 and ask for Dr. Maria Riza L. Bondal (rbondal@uap.edu.ph).

Enjoy!

Free to Choose

2009-09-17T10:40:00.004+08:00

I recently read the article, Reiterating the CBCP Position on Family, and I was struck by the reaction of the people both for and against proposed RH Bill 5043. It seems that much of the discussion for or against the Bill has taken a decidedly "religious" dimension, and not in a good way. Allow me to offer my humble opinion on this very important issue by making my opposition to the RH Bill 5043 very clear:

As a practicing Catholic, I am well aware of the Church's stand on, to borrow from Archbishop Lagdameo's letter to the Filipino people, "truth and morality, the value and dignity of life, family and marriage".

As a citizen of the Philippines, with the demonstrated ability to doom any presidential candidate I vote for with the ignominy of defeat, I would like to summarize my objections to the Bill as follows:

1. Like Archbishop Lagdameo, I believe that "The Bill dilutes and negates Section III (1) Article XV of the Constitution which provides 'The State shall defend the right of spouses to found a family in accordance with their religious conviction and the demands of responsible parenthood.'"

2. In particular, Sec. 21. (a) 5 seems to be a violation of our duly recognized right to practice religious and civic freedoms:

The following acts are prohibited:

a) Any health care service provider, whether public or private, who shall:

5. Refuse to extend reproductive health care services and information on account of the patient’s civil status, gender or sexual orientation, age, religion, personal circumstances, and nature of work; Provided, That all conscientious objections of health care service providers based on religious grounds shall be respected: Provided, further, That the conscientious objector shall immediately refer the person seeking such care and services to another health care service provider within the same facility or one which is conveniently accessible: Provided, finally, That the patient is not in an emergency or serious case as defined in RA 8344 penalizing the refusal of hospitals and medical clinics to administer appropriate initial medical treatment and support in emergency and serious cases.

How can a practicing Christian's health care worker's religious freedoms be respected if that health care worker is required by law to turn over persons seeking care and services not consistent with the practice of his or her faith to someone who surely will?

Many friends have told me that once the Bill is passed, certainly, amendments may be made. But after consulting with experts on the legislative process (who have no position whatsoever on the proposed RH Bill 5043) taking out or amending key portions of the Bill are close to impossible, or at best, unbelievably difficult due to the legislative process itself. Perhaps other people can take that chance, but I can't. Not when so many brave people have sacrificed so much to provide me with the freedoms my family and I enjoy.

Any proposed law or piece of legislation that forces a person, regardless of personal belief, to do something contrary to their legally upheld beliefs, is despotic. The Catholic Church, at most, can only excommunicate. This only affects you if you're Catholic. But a proposed law like this doesn't discriminate: it applies to everyone regardless of belief. It is anti-freedom, which our beloved former President Cory Aquino helped restore in our country not too long ago.

Allow me to end by saying that if there is one thing, among the many, that both people for or against RH Bill 5043 can agree on it is this: we must find a viable solution for the widespread poverty in our country. In my experience though, solutions that unite people, as opposed to divide people, have a better chance of helping more people. Shall we allow ourselves to be prisoners to ideology? Or shall we try to find a way for equally well-meaning people to get on with the business of helping people?

We're still free to choose.

Art That Renews: Kings, and The Privilege of the Sword

2009-09-15T10:22:00.005+08:00

In his eulogy for our dear friend Alexis Tioseco, Paul Dumol thanked Alexis for his indefatigable efforts in championing cinema's finest undiscovered marvels "because art revitalizes, and every time I watch these films and experience the grace which art brings, I will be thankful for your persuasive enthusiasm". While my taste doesn't run to the sophisticated artistic fare that my colleagues bravely consume, I have come across some lovely works of art that could bear, in lieu of the graceful oblivion they are currently consigned to, the burden of more notoriety.

First, and more closely related to the medium that both Alexis and Paul adore, is the recently cancelled NBC series, Kings. A modern-day retelling of the story of King David, Kings is one of the few high concept projects involving the Christian faith that achieves a scope and power of truly biblical proportions. This series doesn't just boast sophisticated political drama, a rivetingly familiar vision of the modern world as a monarchy, or sophisticated narratives that largely succeed in making us care for characters based on well-trod biblical archetypes. It boasts, in my humble opinion, some of the finest actors and actresses currently working in television today. Reverend Ephram Samuels, played by Oz alum and critical darling Eamonn Walker, is alternately mellifluously soothing and quietly damning as the cleric who helped make, and will help unmake, a king. Brian Cox, as King Silas Benjamin's deposed predecessor, in the smattering of episodes that he appears in throughout the series, elevates all his scenes to a veritable master class on acting.

But this show belongs to Ian McShane, and rightfully so. As King Silas Benjamin, McShane gives one of the most indelible, forceful, elegant, and nuanced portrayals of a monarch in recent memory, in any medium. There are some fine, critically acclaimed Shakespearean performances of King Lear that were obliterated from my conscious memory by the performance that McShane gives here. No one radiates the fierce individuality, selfish sense of obligation, and pathos present in all human monarchs like McShane. His performance as King Silas is the axis upon which all the fine performances on Kings hinges. Without him, the terribly delicate conceit that informs the show's premise, would have fallen apart in the first episode alone. Truly remarkable.

Second, I just finished Ellen Kushner's fantasy novel The Privilege of the Sword, another delightfully understated, yet wholly subversive reconceptualization of a tired old literary genre. There is no magic in Kushner's world. Moreover, this is a world that doesn't need to be saved, at least in the grand, cosmic, earth-shattering way that previous forays in high fantasy always demand. Rather, we have a rambunctious, breezily literate, wickedly fun comedy of manners, only with swords in the place of the rapier wit that characters in such comedies seem to wield with equal efficacy.

Yet at the heart of all the polished repartee and the clever attention to social conventions that characterize a comedy of manners, there lies well, heart. The characters, which include an impoverished junior noblewoman forced to work for her seemingly mad uncle, the said mad, yet frustratingly intelligent and disturbingly kind yet cruel uncle, and an urbane young servant who is not below engaging in behavior just a hair's breadth above that of a guttersnipe, are not all quite the paragons of virtue that high fantasy requires, but their resulting stories of even partial redemption, are what all good coming of age tales live on.

Enjoy!

Photo Credits:

Picture of Kings comes courtesy of What's Alan Watching?

And Our Faces, My Heart, Brief as Photos

2009-09-09T13:51:00.008+08:00

My memories of last week remain bittersweet. My family and I celebrated my son Manuel's 3rd birthday while I, along with so many others, mourned the passing of a dear friend, Alexis Tioseco. I recall, with some wistfulness, how I used to dismiss the juxtaposition of the beautiful with the ugly as both being opportunities to encounter grace. Of course, this was before I encountered the heartbreak, and the frightening numbness that accompanies a sudden, tragic loss. Now, I long for the days when I could explain loss away so easily.

Fortunately, many people, braver and wiser than I, of varying persuasions and with varying degrees of success, have tried to make sense of the senseless.

Paul Dumol wrote:

What is clear right now is that his death has reinforced something we also experienced only recently, with the death of that other person who lived in his neighborhood: The power of ideas, the power of example. Alexis was not a political person, although he graciously agreed to organize a lunch in which I made a PowerPoint presentation to Lav and Khavn and Sherad about my analysis of what our society is going through. Nika was in that lunch, sick, but she was listening, more intently I thought than Alexis. With time she might have made him political. The idea that movies, good movies, reveal to us what it means to be human—and Alexis was, if anything, a humanist; he was no ideologue—this is something Alexis believed in, as you might see in four movies he introduced me to and are now among my favorites: In the Mood for Love, Amores perros, Yi Yi, and Bresson’s Au hasard, Balthazar. He loved these movies for the same thing he loved in Lav’s movies and the same thing he looked for in Southeast Asian independent films. Thank you for that, Alexis, because art revitalizes, and every time I watch these films and experience the grace which art brings, I will be thankful for your persuasive enthusiasm. Thank you, above all, for demonstrating with your own life what you loved most in film: the difficult art of being human, how to be kind and generous and respectful and cheerful and honest and hardworking and friendly to all without, it seems to me, exception.

And Philip Peckson shared:

From Kit Kwe:

This is from a chat with Alexis on yahoo. This is one of Alexis's favorite passages from his beloved John Berger. It could've been talking about his beloved Nika.

alexistioseco 11/30/08 2:55 AM
can i share with you the opening and closing of "and our faces, my heart, brief as photos"?

alexistioseco
11/30/08 2:58 AM
"What reconciles me to my own death more than anything else is the image of a place: a place where your bones and mine are buried, thrown, uncovered, together. They are strewn there pell-mell. One of your left ribs leans against my skull. A metacarpal of my left hand lies inside your pelvis. (Against my broken ribs your breast like a flower.) The hundred bones of our feet are scattered like gravel. It is strange that this image of our proximity, concerning as it does mere phosphate of calcium, should bestow a sense of peace. Yet it does. With you I can imagine a place where to be phosphate of calcium is enough."

alexistioseco 11/30/08 2:59 AM
These are the first and last words of the book. The rest speaks of all that lies between these two.

But it remains for ordinary people like myself, betrayed by the inability of either the spoken or written word to provide consolation that can mute or redact grief, to move on the only way we know how.

Requiescat in pace, dear friend. I will be at mass later. If anyone else wishes to remember Alexis, kindly drop by Santuario de San Antonio, Forbes Park, Makati City, later at 6 pm.

THIS is How Lovers Look!

2009-09-03T06:47:00.005+08:00

When my wife and I paid our respects to Alexis Tioseco and Nika Bohinc last night at Capilla de San Francisco in Santuario de San Antonio, Forbes Park, Makati, we were overwhelmed by the number of people who came to mourn the passing of a lovely, talented couple. Their dedication to capturing and encouraging beauty and truth, twenty four frames per second at a time and every second they spent with one another, will truly be missed.

But you might want to give what passes for "news reporting" on the tragic killing of these beautiful people a pass. My friends and I are incensed at the gross insensitivity with which the two major nationwide news networks have treated the slaying of Eggy and Nika.

Those who know me also know that I always credit my sources whenever I blog. This time, however, I refuse to give these character butchers the satisfaction. ABS-CBN immortalized these fierce dreamers and the passion with which they loved each other by reporting:

A Filipino-Canadian film critic and his Slovenian live-in partner were shot dead inside their home in Quezon City, Tuesday night.

GMA 7 came up with the brilliant headline "Film critic, lover killed by robbers in Quezon City home" and provided video that showed digitally blurred footage of both Eggy and Nika sprawled on the floor.

It seems that these major news networks exhausted whatever compassion and sensitivity they had with their coverage of Tita Cory's passing. It's a shame that their humanity extends only to revered former presidents.

Sadly, the finest news reporting of Eggy and Nika's murders were provided by a smaller Filipino newspaper which I remember as having been a tabloid featuring scantily clad young starlets, foreign news agencies and movie blogs. If you want to read the heartfelt sorrow that our young friends' passing has caused, kindly check out fellow Filipino Jeffrey G. Damicog's remarkably sensitive news report in Tempo, and Kim Voynar's moving meditation on love and loss in Movie City News.

Oh, and people? The picture above is how lovers look. Just for future reference.

Photo Credits:

Picture of Eggy and Nika comes courtesy of Chris Yambing.

Requiescat in Pace Eggy!

2009-09-02T09:56:00.004+08:00

One of the fondest memories I have of Alexis "Eggy" Tioseco was when we both attended the wedding of common friends in Cebu a year ago. Eggy was already by then a distinguished film critic and a passionate supporter of the nascent independent film industry in the Philippines. I kidded him that his taste in cinema was too elitist: if it was visually striking, narratively dense and required a panel of independent film critics simply to understand what it was all about, then it was Eggy's kind of film.

"Case in point, Eggy. You watch movies that practically require you to bring pillows, army rations and urine bags to the theater."

"That was for class. And it was a great film."

"All the films you like need a class to understand them. And it was a great film: for people who have cast-iron bladders."

"That's also why I don't watch Hollywood movies. I lack a cast-iron esophagus."

"You're a movie snob!"

"Steven Seagal. I've seen all his movies."

I stopped dead in my tracks. I motioned for Eggy to go on and explain, without having to go into too many actions that could disrupt the delicate fabric of cinematic space and time, how an otherwise reasonably intelligent and passionate cineaste could so thoroughly eschew the fine artistic and commercial films that Hollywood studios churn out on a semi-regular basis but have all the time in the world to go through the the filmography of the man who now does this:

And then Eggy started telling me of how his dad used to watch Steven Seagal's movies when he was younger, and, as he tried to find a more comfortable spot to watch the movie with his dad, how Eggy marveled at how such broadly sketched violence could bring his dad so much joy.

For Eggy, despite the fact that I think most of the movies he watched were primarily exercises in cinematic obfuscation, and how some people shouldn't be given a digital movie camera, ever, films were always an opportunity for him to recapture joy, however fleeting, however he can.

Rest in peace, my dear friend.

Photo Credits:

Picture of Alexis comes courtesy of his Facebook profile pictures.

Weekend Delights!

2009-09-01T13:49:00.005+08:00

One of the reasons why I look forward to long weekends is for the opportunity to reacquaint myself with the more idyllic concerns of family and friends. As I am still hung over from the generous amounts of rest and recreation that I wallowed deliriously in over the weekend, allow me to resort to using bullet points as opposed to coherent paragraphs in order to give an adequate summary of what transpired:

Saturday!

Ralph Lumo and the rest of Singles Encounter#6 hosted their reunion at Megatent. A reunion, especially in the context of Catholic charismatic communities is not precisely a celebration of talent. But it a celebration, of sorts. Pictures may be seen here. The video of Ralph dancing to Nobody by Korean pop group Wonder Girls may not be widely distributed due to the incendiary elements of Ralph's choreography, but a copy may be seen here.

Sunday!

I took my kids to Esteban School, where I played football with some old friends. There's nary a shot of me playing, but here's one of my lovely little princess, Lucia!

Monday!

My sister Therese came over and we watched Up. Lovely movie, and such an appropriate title. For those who have yet to watch this delightful little snowflake of a movie, please try to catch it at the nearest cinema. Carl and Ellie share only a few minutes of screen time, but they will nestle in your heart close to forever.

Mad About Life!

2009-08-28T15:10:00.005+08:00

When the Pro-Life blogging community I am part of heard that Manny "Mad Dog" Amador was going to be in town, we decided to venture out from our virtual enclaves and meet up with one of the foremost Pro-Life advocates in the Philippines, at least in our small, but feisty little online circle.

We met up in Dulcinea, Rockwell Mall, where we proceeded, perhaps partly due to the sugar rush engendered by churros con chocolate to map out a commitment to promoting Pro-Life Philippines activities in 2010 through new media channels. Trying to get the numerous, passionate, and yet maddeningly disorganized patchwork quilt of Pro-Life advocates on board and on the same page might be akin to tilting at windmills, but the Sancho Panza in all of us simply refuses to concede the media tussle to our more media-savvy adversaries. Rather, we seek to make a commitment for life an attractive proposition to the hip, media-savvy young folk who deserve every chance to live life free from fear, despair, and disappointment.

Real love begins with the freedom to choose. To be given the opportunity to consciously, whole-heartedly choose life is the best gift anyone can give our youth. As the immortal boyband, Boyzone, covering a sung by The Osmonds proclaimed, "Don't love me for fun, girl. Let me be the one girl. Love me for a reason, and let the reason be love!"

And to commemorate our Manila meeting, and to allay Mad Dog's aversion to manufactured bubblegum pop, here's a toast to all Pro-Lifers, and an exploration of the true meaning of love. Enjoy!

The Modern World: New Weird or Too Weird?

2009-08-25T14:38:00.004+08:00

One of the reasons I loved spending time in London, other than the food, was the opportunity to browse through their wonderful book shops. While some of my beloved bargains were the product of many hours of sifting through the many different thrift shops scattered liberally around the city, at least one of the books I brought home was found in decidedly more urbane surroundings.

Prior to embarking on a writing career, Steph Swainston was a qualified archaeologist who spent some time as an assistant researcher in a firm that seeks to develop more medical applications for cannabis. Her writing, as such, is both rivetingly romantic (in the classical sense of the word) and mind-numbingly trippy. It is the almost hallucinogenic loveliness of her fully fleshed out, yet at times, spiritually emaciated characters and the strange worlds that they inhabit that have prompted critics to label her as one of the finest proponents of the New Weird. Her mixture of science fiction and fantasy, sprinkled liberally with the more ersatz elements of Jack Kerouac's road fantasies almost defies convention. When I picked up her first book, The Year of Our War, the feeling of alienation generated by the willful suspension between two well-worn literary genres almost wore me out. Happily, I shook off the disorientation and soldiered on. I haven't looked back since.

The premise is rather straightforward. A benevolent Emperor sustains the three humanoid races that populate a medieval world with the help of a circle of fifty immortal warriors. These immortal warriors are the very best at what they do, and they remain immortal for as long as they continue to prove to be the best at what they do. Jant Shira, also known as Comet, is an Immortal who is horribly addicted to a hallucinatory drug called "cat." He is also, due to his mixed heritage, the only being in the world who can fly. Comet, the Messenger, finds out that taking enormous amounts of "cat" allows him access to an alternate universe, where he has discovered the Insects' secret. Unfortunately, his ability to make use of this information is hindered by the fact that when his addiction to "cat" is threatening to consume what is left of his ability to be the Messenger.

While the prose often struggles to approach the rarefied heights that Jant scales so easily despite his addiction, it is serviceable, and the audacity with which Swainston carves out worlds just a degree or two north of what could be termed sane is truly entertaining. I would recommend this series for anyone who wants their epic science fiction fantasy kick to contain something a little stronger.

Photo Credits:

Picture of The Modern World comes courtesy of Dave Brendon's Fantasy & Sci-Fi Weblog.

How About Some One-Hit-Wonders?

2009-08-25T09:54:00.004+08:00

I must confess. The reason why I was not able to blog at all last week was due entirely to Mafia Wars, Superhero City, and Yakuza Lords. I just recently got into Facebook gaming, despite my better judgment, and was pulled into a suburban version of The Godfather Part III:

To begin my blogging week, allow me to share a link that will allow the uninitiated to make a reasonable assertion as to my true age. Ladies and gentlemen, here are 35 One-Hit-Wonders of the '80s.

My all-time favorite? It's too hard to choose. But my favorite video to wake up to? See for yourself. Enjoy!

Acquired Tastes: Nicolas Cage?

2009-08-13T11:17:00.006+08:00

It's very difficult to provoke my wife. By and large, Tina, and by extension (if only for the benefit of this short entry, the point of which we will be coming to shortly) my mother-in-law are the very picture of rationality, grace, and generosity.

Except when it comes to Nicolas Cage. When it comes to the subject of the Oscar-award winner for most ridiculous hair extensions in major studio releases, these two otherwise level-headed ladies can't help but dish out the vitriol.

One might be tempted to lump Nicolas Cage in with another polarizing Hollywood phenomenon like David Caruso. But unlike Caruso, whose impact on the thespic arts is negligible due to his insistence on punctuating every scene, regardless of dramatic effect or context with his eponymous sunglasses, Nicolas Cage is actually considered by many to be a rather talented actor.

As Nathan Rabin observed in his article on Cage's embarrassing, yet strangely compelling sexual thriller, Zandalee, Nicolas Cage is a brave actor, which is not always the best outcome for movies, or moviegoers in general:

A lot of people dislike Nicolas Cage because he makes so many terrible movies and does things like name his son Kal-El. I, on the other hand, love the guy. Think of all the gutsy, unforgettable performances he’s given through the years in movies like Valley Girl, Rumble Fish, Raising Arizona, Moonstruck, Red Rock West, Leaving Las Vegas, Face/Off, Bringing Out The Dead, Adaptation, Matchstick Men, The Weather Man, and Lord Of War. That’s lifetime-pass credentials for sure. And his Werner Herzog Bad Lieutenant movie promises to be great, wonderfully terrible, or both.

Like R. Kelly, even when Cage is terrible, he’s pretty terrific. You could even argue that when he’s terrible, Cage is especially awesome, on multiple levels. He’s a legitimately great actor. He’s also a great bad actor, a great crazy actor, and a great over-actor.

In the late ’80s and early ’90s, Cage’s primary criteria for choosing roles seemed to be:

How ridiculous will my accent be? Will it sound like a dialect never spoken by anyone, ever, in the history of time?

How about facial hair? Can it look like fake hair haphazardly placed on me by a blind man with an odd sense of humor?

Will I be called upon to shamelessly overact or go completely fucking nuts?

What do you think?

Enjoy! Or not.

Howling Good Fun!

2009-08-10T11:04:00.005+08:00

After a slew of rather serious entries, it's time to have some fun again! A former student of mine, Ms. Jimi Estavillo, shared the following link with me, a satirical review of a Three Wolf Moon Short Sleeved Tee on Facebook. According to The New York Times, it is still possible for a t-shirt to change your life, albeit not quite in the way that anyone expects it.

This is the t-shirt:

And this is the awesome review that launched a wave of good-natured snarkiness all over the Web.

For those who have difficulty clicking on the image above, have no fear. Here it is, in text form:

"This item has wolves on it which makes it intrinsically sweet and worth 5 stars by itself, but once I tried it on, that's when the magic happened. After checking to ensure that the shirt would properly cover my girth, I walked from my trailer to Wal-mart with the shirt on and was immediately approached by women. The women knew from the wolves on my shirt that I, like a wolf, am a mysterious loner who knows how to 'howl at the moon' from time to time (if you catch my drift!). The women that approached me wanted to know if I would be their boyfriend and/or give them money for something they called mehth. I told them no, because they didn't have enough teeth, and frankly a man with a wolf-shirt shouldn't settle for the first thing that comes to him.

I arrived at Wal-mart, mounted my courtesy-scooter (walking is such a drag!) sitting side saddle so that my wolves would show. While I was browsing tube socks, I could hear aroused asthmatic breathing behind me. I turned around to see a slightly sweaty dream in sweatpants and flip-flops standing there. She told me she liked the wolves on my shirt, I told her I wanted to howl at her moon. She offered me a swig from her mountain dew, and I drove my scooter, with her shuffling along side out the door and into the rest of our lives. Thank you wolf shirt.

Pros: Fits my girthy frame, has wolves on it, attracts women
Cons: Only 3 wolves (could probably use a few more on the 'guns'), cannot see wolves when sitting with arms crossed, wolves would have been better if they glowed in the dark."

Enjoy the rest of the day!

Photo Credits:

Picture of the Three Wolf Moon Short Sleeved Tee comes courtesy of The New York Times.

Remembrances: Tributes to Tita Cory

2009-08-07T14:50:00.006+08:00

One of the few consolations afforded by grief has something to do with the nature of grace: the more heartfelt and powerful the sense of bereavement, the more sublime the remembrance.

Inasmuch as we all deal with a profound sense of loss, we are also blessed by a profuse outpouring of paeans, each more stirring than the last. It is remarkable how many people share the same story. Before the death of Tita Cory, there was largely apathy, a miasma of unfeeling that mirrored the detachment and underlying despair of the contemporary Filipino. After her death? Sweet melancholy, but not, with apologies to The Smashing Pumpkins, a sense of infinite sadness. Rather, there seems to be a poignant, gentle sense of hope stirring in the wind.

Here are some of the best tributes I have come across. Many thanks to Vince Sales and the lovely people at Techie.com for getting me started.

Tributes penned:

"President Corazon Aquino is dead, and with her dies the last shreds of civility in our public life. She was a good person. Say what you will about her administration, the illusions dashed and opportunities missed, but she was decent to us. She never mocked us, made fun of our hopes, or knowingly insulted our intelligence. Born to privilege, she never acted the spoiled brat. President Cory defended the Constitution from those who would twist it to their own ends. Here was a woman who rejected the temptation to perpetuate herself in power.

She was a lady, a rarity in this day and age and especially in this political system. She tried. We miss her like a limb. In mourning for Tita Cory we’re really mourning for ourselves and what could’ve been."

by Jessica Zafra, Tita Cory

"I wondered, like someone who had come back to where he started and saw the place for the first time: Maybe colors are there to unite us more than separate us. Maybe red is just the blood that pulses in the veins in love and war. Maybe yellow is just the pages of a letter from a loved one that magically bring him back to life. Maybe blue is just the sky, however cloudy, when looked at through the bars of a prison cell. Maybe green is just fields promising plenitude. Maybe black is just the tangle of our fate, the twists and turns of our life, as we grope our way forward. Maybe white is just the grace to push on, amid the darkness.

I wondered with the wisdom of innocence and the naivete of age: Maybe we’re divided only into good people and bad people. How people are so, or become so, I’ll leave others to divine. Maybe they are just born that way, maybe like scorpions they sting because it is in their nature to sting. Or maybe they are made that way, as much by the circumstances that mold their character as their character that molds their circumstances. But bad people are there; we know that only too well. Just as well, good people are there too; we know that even more so.

We know the latter because we had someone walk with us who was so. Someone who was so disinterested in power she accepted it gravely as a matter of duty and gave it up gracefully as a matter of trust, for which she remains an awesome force even in death. Someone who, while she lived, showered not very small kindnesses on others in their hour of need or bereavement, having known bereavement herself and the comfort of empathy as much as the empathy of comfort, for which she continues to live with us even in death. Someone who proved once before as Joan of Arc and who will prove once again like El Cid the terrifying and wondrously prophetic vision of her faith: The exalted shall be humbled and the humble exalted.

In life and in death, Cory has been—pardon my French—one damn good person."

by Conrado de Quiros, One good person

And tributes sung:

Have a blessed weekend. Please remember Tita Cory and the Filipino people in your prayers.

Photo Credits:

Picture of Tita Cory comes courtesy of The EQualizer Post.

Requiescat in Pace: Corazon C. Aquino (1933-2009)

2009-08-05T05:25:00.004+08:00

I find myself awake at what would normally be considered an unholy hour because of my sacred duty to my family. My eldest son, Juan, and my youngest and only princess, Lucia, needed to be lavished special attention on last night. My wife, of course, provided most of the care and affection that our little ones needed, while I mumbled and stumbled around the room as she asked me to do menial tasks to, I suspect, gracefully keep me out of her way while she did all the hard work.

As an entire nation mourned the passing of former President Corazon C. Aquino, I found myself making plans to either join the procession to Manila Cathedral, or at the very least, try to follow the events through a live web feed. Sadly, or so I though at the time, my obligations kept getting in the way of my feeble attempts to pay my respects to a bastion of democracy.

Tita Cory was not a particularly gifted leader. But she distinguished herself from all others who have held the office in recent memory by refusing to hold on to power when she had every opportunity to do so. Sometimes, the most profound expressions of love and compassion involve letting something go. And so she did, reaffirming the adage "If you love them, set them free." By refusing to prolong her stay in office, she set a sterling example of sacrifice. By refusing to linger past her appointed time, she made sure the Filipino people would remain free, if only for a while longer.

And so, this former amateur street parliamentarian, a veteran of two EDSAs, would like to thank Tita Cory for making it possible to miss her funeral. If it weren't for her selfless example in guaranteeing a democratic succession, I had a choice. I chose to spend my time with my family, a luxury that I suspect the sprawling Aquino family would rather enjoy in lieu of the complications arising from allowing an entire nation to grieve the passing of a leader while all they want to do is mourn the passing of a mother.

Requiescat in pace, Madame Corazon C. Aquino. You never outstayed your welcome. You respected our democratic institutions to perpetuate yourself in power. You will be missed.

Photo Credits:

Picture of Corazon C. Aquino comes courtesy of Filipino United Network.

Life in the Spirit: Wonderfully Uncool!

2009-08-02T20:39:00.006+08:00

"I'm glad you were home."
"I'm always home. I'm uncool."
"Me, too."
"The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what we share with someone else when you're uncool."

A conversation between Lester Bangs and William Miller, Almost Famous (2000)

I remember when someone first proposed that I should consider receiving Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Savior. It was on one of the few times that I took public transportation, and while I was on my way to Galleria, the Scripture quoting derelict who started hemorrhaging bible verses convinced me to alight at Megamall. Perhaps that's why for the longest time, I subconsciously associated Megamall with a sense of sanctuary. Before, even considering such a deeply personal, and mildly offensive offer, was preposterous. Even worse, as I was a recent graduate of quite possibly the most self-assured, and therefore, the most suspiciously sensitive university along Katipunan, I was convinced that not only was a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, like most relationships that have their origin in non-airconditioned buses the world over, horribly inconvenient, it was fatally uncool.

And so, my best friend Ralph's graduation from Serviam Catholic Charismatic Community's Life in the Spirit Experience #8 is one of those blessedly rare occasions when I intentionally revisit the embarrassing ignorance of my youth and celebrate the wonders of a wisdom won not through my own efforts, but through Christ alone. Like many Ateneans who went to school along Katipunan during the late '90s, Ralph seemed forever scarred by our inability to generate wins in UAAP basketball save through the intervention of Our Lady, who may have lavished us with many "moral victories" on the hardcourt, but who refused to intercede for us with her Son in order to produce actual wins during the interminably long UAAP season. Christ was someone we went to when in search of that elusive season defining win against our Green Archer rivals; our Lord was not someone we called upon to define our lives outside basketball.

I am told the Ateneo finally has a basketball team that can almost match the brazen self-assurance of its alumni. Ironically, I stopped watching Ateneo basketball some time ago. As such I cannot completely celebrate my alma mater's championships. But, more importantly, my friend Ralph has discovered another advantage to living a life in Christ, bereft of whatever assumptions a personal relationship with Christ has for one's beloved basketball team. A life in Christ, when judged from the standards of Ralph's old life, will forever be uncool. But the only true currency one has in this bankrupt world is what we share with someone else when we're uncool. And he has so many wonderful, thoughtful, Spirit-filled, fatally uncool friends after this weekend.

That's certainly worth celebrating. Now, Ralph is home. He can be deliriously, gloriously, happily uncool.

Pictures may be found here and here.

Moving Thoughts: Gary V, "At Ease"

2009-07-30T13:36:00.003+08:00

In a recent column on the state of the NBA offseason, Bill Simmons cleverly organized his thoughts on the different player movements and franchise transactions around his favorite exchanges from what he calls his favorite movie of the decade, Almost Famous. While Simmons' column is, in itself, a worthwhile read, I would like to enjoin you to refrain from clicking on the link above just yet. One of the reasons why Simmons' work resonates with so many readers is the gleeful abandon with which he acknowledges the tremendous influence of popular culture in his personal formation. He recognizes (with a shrewd insight into the human psyche that many people rarely give him credit for) that many people's lives may not be movies, or sitcoms, or seminal works of music, but for many people, they wish they were. We all walk around with a soundtrack to our lives, and one of the ways we lay bare our souls is through the ever-changing playlist that we use to define ourselves.

This brings me to Gary Valenciano. Gary V has been a major influence in my life since early childhood. The first cassette tape I ever remember buying was Gary V's Moving Thoughts. And from time to time, under the heady influence of the light buzz one associates with a fine wine sipped leisurely, or under the even more wonderfully intoxicating lilt of nostalgia, I recall the many long hours commuting from Ateneo to Parañaque that were made bearable by Mr. Pure Energy's music.

Gary Valenciano will hold special fund-raising show at Megatent entitled "At Ease" to build a medical and diagnostic clinic for retired military men. For more information, visit his official website or check out the special page for the concert at Facebook. Relive the golden memories of our youth by helping to ease our valiant retired enlisted men into their golden years.

Encomium: Requiescat in Pace, MJ!

2009-07-27T14:32:00.003+08:00

The untimely death of Michael Jackson, despite the outpouring of genuine grief at this passing, serves us well in one respect: now we can rediscover his music. For many young people, Michael Jackson was less a tortured, flawed genius and more of a freakish novelty. Fortunately, due to media-sharing technologies such as YouTube, it is easy to correct their misconception of Michael.

As we Filipinos wait for what should be President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo's last State of the Nation Address, let's try to celebrate the sweet soul buried beneath the celebrity by going through two of his sweetest songs.

Rest in peace, MJ!

Woodstock 2009!

2009-07-22T10:24:00.004+08:00

For many people, Woodstock remains a powerful symbol of music, peace, and love. Regardless of the detritus that surrounds the purity of the experience, and by this I mean the association with promiscuity and drug use, it's nice to be reminded every once in a while that Woodstock was less about the irresponsible celebration of our less laudable passions and more about the power of love, as expressed through music, to change lives.

Nick and Bobbi Ercoline seem like an ordinary, albeit, pleasantly quirky suburban couple. We read in the online version of the Times Herald-Record:

She’s a 59-year-old nurse at Pine Bush Elementary School who collects food and clothes for needy children. He’s a 60-year-old retired business agent for a carpenter’s union who does lead and farm worker housing inspections for Orange County. The parents of two sons, Matthew, 30, and Luke, 27, live in a 10-room home on a wooded road dotted with old farms and new houses. An American flag, a statue of the Virgin Mary and a tongue-in-cheek “Hippies Use Back Door” sign greet visitors out front.

But more than a picture of domestic bliss, Nick and Bobbi Ercoline remain one of the most enduring, recognizable figures in one of the most famous concerts in recorded history. When Burk Uzzle took a snapshot of the young lovers sharing a dirty blanket amidst the massive crowd gathered at Woodstock, he provided Woodstock one of its most enduring images, in more ways than one.

Forty years later, the Ercolines are still together. Despite all, they are happily together. In the movie Almost Famous, fictional rock and roll star Jeff Bebe (played by Jason Lee) boasted that rock and roll can save the world. You know what? He's right, but not in the way most people think.

Have a wonderful day!

Photo Credits:

Picture of Nick and Bobbi Ercoline from Woodstock, 1969 comes courtesy of New York Daily News.

Picture of Nick and Bobbi Ercoline today comes courtesy of Times Herald-Record.

The Perils of Potential: The Tragedy of Whitney Houston

2009-07-18T16:50:00.005+08:00

It's been awhile since I did an entry on The Sports Guy, and with good reason: he seemed to have lost the ability to truly engage me. His columns and articles were rarely laugh-out-loud funny, and his allusions to popular culture seemed either forced or decidedly stale. In short, it seemed that his best work was behind him.

However, the tragic death of Michael Jackson did more than bring back a tortured genius back to artistic and cultural relevance. Michael's death also brought us back Bill Simmons, The Sports Guy. Slowly, Simmons, shaken by the passing of an icon, seemed to rediscover what the era he works best in (the '80s and '90s) means to the many middle-aged men and women whose lives were defined by the energy, promise, and disappointment of the period.

In his latest mailbag, a reader asks him:

Which famous singer would have dominated "American Idol" the most had he/she started his/her career as a contestant on the show? I thought MJ around the "Off the Wall" era, but then realized he would not have been eligible because of his Jackson 5 fame. So who? Please don't tell me John Mayer, circa 2005.

Simmons, in a stunning return to form, makes the following observations:

Come on, Cliff, 2005 Mayer would have rolled through that show every week, caused a national riot and had Paula whipping her ovaries at him. Anyone non-threatening with undeniable talent who can play guitar, play the piano or belt out tunes is going to succeed on "Idol." Young Alicia Keys would have crushed "Idol." Same for the dude from Maroon 5. Norah Jones would have done well. You get the idea. But there is one answer for your question and only one: Whitney Houston...

One of the many fascinating subplots of the mid-80s: you had a male singer (Jackson), a female singer (Whitney), a boxer (Mike Tyson), a baseball pitcher (Dwight Gooden) and an actor/comedian (Eddie Murphy) who peaked at precociously young ages, convinced us they were headed toward becoming the "greatest (fill in the genre) of all time" … only none of them made it. Not one.

I would argue Whitney barely edges out Gooden as the biggest tragedy of the five. Eddie had a phenomenal nine-year run of "SNL" episodes, movies and comedy specials before his movie career went Barry Zito on us. Tyson had a number of memorable fights and made such an impact that I have been pushing for ESPN to have "Tyson Week" (like Shark Week) for this entire decade. Jackson had all the Jackson 5 stuff, "Off the Wall," "Thriller" and "Bad" before things started getting weird. But Whitney should have been the black Streisand: an iconic singer/actress who aged with her audience, lasted for decades and was mentioned in the first breath any time someone asked, "Who were the biggest female performers ever?" Instead, it was over for her in eight years...

I say '85 Whitney pulls away from the field like Secretariat in the Belmont, trounces '05 John Mayer, crushes Alicia Keys, obliterates the Maroon 5 guy. … Nobody touches her. Not for a second.

One last Whitney story because I think it explains the "you had to be there" aspect of Whitney's brief apex. My father took me to visit Tufts University right around the time her first album came out. Dad was looking for parking and "Saving All My Love" had just come on the radio. About halfway through the song, he found a spot and I thought we were getting out of the car. He told me to hold on until the end of the song. When I made fun of him, he explained simply, "Whitney really belts it out in this one." You have to know my dad. He never, EVER says things like this. And you know what? He was right. I didn't even challenge it. I just don't think there's ever been another singer who would have kept two people in their car during a random winter day in New England like that. Just Whitney.

In recognition of the undeniable talent, and equally undeniable train wreck that is Whitney Houston, here's a video of the time when a gloriously, stunningly unafraid Whitney Houston reduced David Letterman to a blubbering, fawning idiot. Enjoy!

Photo Credits:

Picture of Whitney Houston's debut album comes courtesy of ArtSchoolVets.

Staring Down Math? Try Music!

2009-07-17T09:17:00.003+08:00

A couple of years ago, I was a teacher at the University of Asia and the Pacific. Teachers oftentimes get a not-wholly-undeserved rap for not making the content of the subjects that they teach more alive for their students. And while there is a fine line between "dumbing down" the subject matter in order to play to the masses and truly innovative teaching that integrates the theoretical with "real life", I believe that teachers should never stop trying. Even well-meant classroom disasters are better than the apathetic droning of teachers who don't want to invest themselves in their classes.

Regardless of how people feel about the medium with which Lamar Queen communicates the content of his subject, I applaud attempts like these, which try to bridge the gap between languages heretofore alien to students and teachers: mathematics and rap music. Enjoy!

In His Time

2009-07-15T14:49:00.006+08:00

I rarely blog about politically charged issues. First, I know very little about politics. What little I know can hardly be called information, valid observation, insight, or even credible conjecture. Second, most political issues that matter are divisive. While there will always be a need and a proper forum for such discussions, you won't find it on this blog.

However, the current plight of Former President Corazon Aquino invites reflection. Conrado de Quiros writes:

"I have little doubt that if Cory had wanted to extend her term, she could have done so. Not only legally but morally, not only as a matter of private wish but of public will...

She could have stayed on, but she did not. I have little doubt as well that she got no small pressure from kin and friends who could not comprehend how anyone could be so loath to seize opportunity. Years before, Cory was pressured to accept the nomination to fight Marcos in the snap elections, and she agreed reluctantly. This time she refused adamantly. She had restored democracy, she would not be the one to scuttle it."

Let us forget, for the meantime, that Mr. de Quiros has certain political views that are not friendly towards the current occupant of Malacañang Palace. His politics, for once, is not an issue. But his observation, albeit somewhat colored by nostalgia, bears remembering. Sometimes, the hardest thing in life is to let go. And the bigger the sacrifice, the more noble the action. I'm not sure what were the circumstances that surrounded Former President Aquino's refusal to seek another term. But the fact that she didn't, despite every worldly reason to do so, come hell or high water, speaks very well of her. Or Him. Given her well-documented piety, it is not unreasonable to consider that Christ might have had a lot to do with her decision to relinquish the reins of power.

Regardless, let us all pray for her recovery.

Note: I'm sorry that I can't link to the article in question. Philippine Daily Inquirer has rather strict rules on reproducing or otherwise using their intellectual property in any form on the Web.

Many thanks to Open Road for the link on Former President Aquino's medical condition.

Chasing Away the SING-ALONG-KOT Blues

2009-07-10T13:33:00.002+08:00

Last night, I was pleasantly surprised to bump into my old friends (emphasis on "old") Miguel de Jesus, Kim Chong, and Gene Abao at Mag:Net's SING-ALONG-KOT. As we age gracefully into what is best characterized by Dante Alighieri, Middle Age, the moments in which we are no longer held hostage by the duties and responsibilities that have come to define us are few and far between.

And so, we live for moments like these:

moments in which we gather;

moments of bittersweet realization;

moments of unbridled passion;

and moments where time stands still.

It was a lovely evening. Many thanks to Trina, Sheryl, Myra, Xilca and guitarist extraordinaire Bob Guerrero for their company and, more importantly, their sympathy. We should do this again!

Bag of Beans

2009-07-07T10:29:00.006+08:00

A seasoned traveler once told me that the best way to encounter a new place, or to reacquaint one's self with a fond old memory revisited, is through the food. My wife and I have fond memories of our Tagaytay rest house, largely because we've never associate the rest house with any rest. It's amazing how much work goes into maintaining such a modest place. I have a newfound respect for builders and contractors who can install doors that can close, toilets that can flush, and floorboards that don't warp with the slightest change in temperature. Still, a hard day's work cleaning, repairing and troubleshooting deserves some reward.

Fortunately, Bag of Beans is literally right across the street. I have often reflected that if at the end of every problematic toilet bowl, leaky pipe, or warped floorboard is a delightful cafe like Bag of Beans, then I would be a handyman. Alas, and to the great loss of the personal construction industry, there is only one such cafe in the immediate vicinity of Tagaytay and Batangas.

I like simple food. Moreover, I adore eating places that can do simple fare well. I ordered a simple meal of bacon and scrambled eggs. The bacon was crispy without being brittle, and flavorful without being salty. The eggs were equally delicious, moist without being wet. On the side, I ordered one of their heavenly raisin and cinnamon loaves, a fresh, hot, and aromatic delight that could only come from bread baked without preservatives. I washed all this down with bottomless brewed coffee.

The place is clean, and the toilet facilities are adequate. The toilet area is housed in a little extension separate from the eating area. My only complaint would be that the men's room, albeit clean and well-light, suffered from low water pressure at the time. Of course, as I was not the captain of the USS Enterprise, I could not boldly go where no male customer had gone before. But I assume that the ladies' room was adequately provisioned.

If you're ever in the Mendez, Tagaytay (on the way to Batangas), drop by Bag of Beans. It's a lovely place that serves simple food that anyone can enjoy.

Storytelling Fun!

2009-06-30T10:02:00.004+08:00

In the Borra household, finding common activities that are fun and involve the entire family is akin to finding the Holy Grail, and not in the fun, Monty Python sense. But the Lord is kind and merciful. Every once in a while, despite the hectic schedules that my wife and I keep, and the general level of sustained playfulness that our kids are capable of maintaining, we find ourselves in that special place where all we have to do is be thankful for the opportunity and enjoy our blessings.

Last night, prior to evening prayers, the family enjoyed the adventures of Thomas the Tank Engine before going to bed. I haven't the foggiest what the adventures of Thomas were, but I remember everyone, at one point or the other, rolling around in laughter. My second son Manuel, in particular, is sometimes difficult to please. But when he is happy, the purity of his joy is wonderful to behold. Have a blessed day!

Foundations of Parenting: Love and Service!

2009-06-25T09:52:00.008+08:00

My biggest fears, and conversely my biggest aspirations, concern my kids. Oftentimes, when I was younger, older folk would often begin their observations of my, or my generation's behavior by saying "In my time..." Like most younger folk, I would bristle inwardly about the litany to follow.

Sadly, and only because I do not share, at this moment in time, God's divine irony, I find myself wondering about how my kids will cope with the world that they have inherited from their largely irresponsible forebears. Specifically, I wonder about how my kids will react to the reality of widespread poverty, and spiritual malaise. Will they embrace their civic and Christian duties? Will they develop a healthy respect for individuals regardless of social, economic, and religious differences? Will they serve?

Yesterday, Bishop Chito Sanchez picked the entire family up to visit the orphanage of Jesus Loves the Little Children Foundation. I wanted the kids to come and see what papa does because I realize, despite my obstinacy and pride, that there is very little I can say to them, now or in the future, that will truly help them realize how important it is to love, share, and serve others. They have to see it. They have to experience it. They have to make their own, hopefully informed decisions about how to deal with the world they were born into.

And it's not just about them. Bishop Chito has been operating the orphanage since the late '90s, and the sad reality is that despite all the many technological and medical advances that Man has made in the last century, we still have to find a remedy of something more than cardiovascular: the indifference that has built around the human heart.

Bishop Chito is spearheading a fundraising event, which I am proud to be part of, for this worthy cause later this year. I would like to invite people to participate in this endeavor. There is much that remains to be done, but as these pictures attest, there are smiles to be saved.

A Tale of Two Nerds: Alpha and Obama?

2009-06-24T09:53:00.005+08:00

It's rare in my vocation to have the opportunity to share the many wonderful experiences I have been blessed with in ministry work. It's even rarer to have the opportunity to share the eternal laughter which accompanies joyful service to a joyful and loving God. Here's a clip from International Week 2009:

My accomplices in the video above were Dr. Benie A. Sy and Roberto F. de Ocampo. They deserve all the credit in the world for refusing to run back down and leave me to be picked apart in my shame. Many thanks!

And since I'm in such a giving mood, here's a video which you may have seen, but definitely deserve to see again. John Hodgman roasts President Barack Obama.

One of my favorite lines from the very entertaining roast:

"Despite his Spockish calm and gangly frame, the president is known to dabble in sports. And not just bowling, but the hard stuff ... basketball."

Many thanks to Henry Abbott for reminding me of the great divide, illustrated in passing above, between actual basketball and NBA Live.

Enjoy!

The Best Little Duck Place in London!

2009-06-23T13:40:00.007+08:00

Bobby de Ocampo is a man of many talents. Former Finance Secretary, a laudable accomplishment that can only be adequately captured by successive and excessive capitalization. Debonaire gentleman singer, who manages to shine despite his wardrobe's lack thereof. And most importantly, at least during the time we spent in London, Guide to Gastronomic Delights of the Epicurean Persuasion Extraordinaire!

London's Chinatown is famous for its Oriental cuisine. In fact, many of my friends who claim Chinese ancestry do not hesitate in recommending one restaurant or the other along Shaftesbury or Gerrard streets due to the exceptional quality of the food served. Alas, most of these places are really restaurants that are better experienced with the tender loving wallets of one's parents.

As Mr. de Ocampo had spent some time during his "ill-spent youth" in London as an otherwise gifted, yet itinerant scholar, I wasted no time accepting his invitation to have lunch at his old hangout in Chinatown. I was not disappointed.

The duck was moist and tender, and there were generous amounts of it poured on steaming white rice. Some of the tourists who ate lunch there at the same time as we gleefully attacked the cholesterol laden feast before us asked for sauce, but we didn't even bother. I consider myself something of a roast duck connoisseur, having sampled duck at some of the finest eating places in Asia. Two years ago, I had the pleasure of dining with the Chairman of the Shimao Group in Hongkong. The duck served at this quaint little hole-in-the-wall in London compares favorably with some of the most expensive duck I've been freely extended invitations to sample.

And if my good friends Paulino and Mica are reading this entry, do yourself a favor and hop on the Tube after work today. You won't regret it.

London Food Trip: Chelsea Bun!

2009-06-18T11:55:00.008+08:00

While I'm waiting for the official photos from International Week 2009 to be released, allow me to share some of the wonderful culinary adventures I had while in London.

My first decent meal in London was shared with friends along Brick Lane, an area noted for its exotic cuisine. And while the meal itself suffered in comparison to the outrageous marketing claims plastered on every other curry house along the street, the time spent catching up with friends was worth it. The experience of meandering through the vibrant streetlife of Brick Lane, replete with cultural oddities and some inspired graffiti, was an enjoyable way to end the meal. Many thanks to Paulino and Mica!

Mica played an even bigger role in my next remarkable meal in London, which was at this delightful cafe along Limerston Street called Chelsea Bun.

The weather on that day was absolutely wonderful. Mica commented that it was days like these that reminded her why she loves working in London, and she was right. The sun was out, and city was resplendent in the bright hues of summer. Armed with the security that sunshine affords all men and women who grew up in a tropical country, we took our time perusing the ample selection before settling on the Malibu Omelette and the Chorizo and Goat's Cheese Scramble.

The Malibu Omelette is the very definition of what trust in the Lord's plan entails: it makes absolutely no sense, which is probably why it works. Take four farm fresh eggs, add Scotch salmon, avocados, Mascarpone cheese and cayenne peppers. It shouldn't be good, but it is.

In comparison, the Chorizo and Goat's Cheese Scramble, is a more familiar gathering of old, eccentric friends. The combination chorizo, goat's cheese and cayenne peppers make this omelette at once flavorful, tangy, and just a little bit loopy.

Since as of this writing, the official pictures from Alpha have not been uploaded, expect more gastronomically inclined entries in the near future. After all, one of the most appropriate metaphors for the unity in faith that characterizes all Alpha champions is wonderful, flavorful, uniquely cultivated food. Enjoy!

"Finnish Him!"

2009-06-15T16:52:00.004+08:00

I really wanted to blog about my Wicked experience, but I'm still not done processing it. And who wants to read a blog entry full of trite insights such as "Wonderful!", "Moving!" and "Heartwarming!", comments that could just as easily be applied, and more appropriately, to my little ballerina princess, Lucia.

Instead, here's something I found trawling the Web. It's just a little weird, but oddly fascinating. Honestly, in a world where artists constantly reinterpret heretofore seminal works on a regular basis, it's fascinating when I encounter something that well and truly surprises me. Ladies and gentlemen, if you do not care for a Finnish, polka-esque version of Bon Jovi's anthem, hurry along to my next post. As for the curious, enjoy!

I Believe in Signs!

2009-06-13T22:48:00.004+08:00

It's been awhile since I posted anything remotely resembling a travelogue. That being the case, I will resist doing so. The advent of Facebook has more or less nipped the electronic travel journal in the bud for anyone who isn't Our Awesome Planet, which remains the standard for excellence in my neck of the woods. But for those of you who insist, here's a sample of what I could be blogging about later:

As I was gleefully making my way back to my hotel room in Turnham Green, I was reintroduced to one of those true rarities in popular aesthetics: a remake of a popular work that is not only better than the original, but forces one to reinterpret the original through a totally different perspective. Well, if you don't consider some of the better stuff on American Idol.

Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce The Mountain Goats, with their version of Ace of Base's The Sign. Enjoy!

To Visit the Queen?

2009-06-11T11:16:00.002+08:00

After many delays, I'm finally in London. Today, I'm to deliver a short report on the wonder that is the Alpha Course in the Philippines at International Week '09 at Holy Trinity Brompton.

As I hurriedly fine-tune...

No, that won't do. We might as well be completely honest at this point. As I hurriedly try to whip out a presentation from the decaying, wretched, jet-lagged creature that was John-D Borra, I began to realize just how much my life has changed in the last two years. Once, I was a brilliant, slightly self-important, promising academic whose sole ambition was to teach for the rest of his life. Now, I'm a humbled, grateful soul, eager to confront the many different challenges that the Lord, with an obscenely joyful twinkle in His eye, scatters on the path that He has set me on.

It's alternately infuriating and edifying. It's both an opportunity and a colossal folly. It's both sacrifice and grace. But I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Well, maybe for small pieces of the world, such as those wonderful slivers of happiness that call Manila their home. But otherwise, I'm pretty much blessed just dragging what remains of my vibrant, happy self through a chilly London morning.

Enjoy!

Flowers From the Rubble

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