Allow me to Rant

**Prof. Randy David discusses the President's speech the other night in a show at ANC. After he wrapped up his piece and left, Ces Drilon delivers a disclaimer--that the network didn't have anything to do with what the professor has just said.

Prof. Randy David said it all too well—that is, the implications of GMA’s public apology.

Then the news anchor wimps out and raises a disclaimer, saying that ANC had nothing to do with what the professor had just said. Excuse me, Ms. Ces Drilon. What have you been doing all these years? And I thought time spent in media would have made an amazona out of you—well at least that aside from being a fashionista (which I highly disagree you deserve to be called). May I inform you that while you where putting on your eye shadow and shimmering lipstick, Prof. Randy David was talking about the Filipinos being smart. Even if politicians think they can fool the Filipino people, we can’t be fooled because we know how to think. That includes processing “who said what” which really requires minimum thinking.

Ms. Drilon, you need not make clear that the opinions we heard from Prof. Randy David were his. For one thing, being a pawn of media, you are not allowed to bare you personal biases especially given your type of show. Also, even with your make up and funky wardrobe on, I don’t think you would have come up with insights as precise and as properly worded as his. Besides if you do that to all your guests I doubt that anyone would like to appear on your show ever again.

You are a shame to your kind. Quit kissing the Lopez ass. You ought to buy yourself some balls or find a new career.

Coexisting with Rats

I am living in a house that is probably as old as I am. And if you are a 25-year-old house, the shelter you provide would not be limited to a pack of thinking, featherless bipeds but it would also extend to insects and rats. As much as it is shameful to admit that a sanitary freak such as myself is living in a houseful of creepy crawlies, I would not hesitate to say it. At least by doing so, the world will have one less phony.

Yes, I have learned to coexist with rats and the likes—filthy creatures that spoil whatever it is that you own even after silently allowing them to live with you. You are left with no other choice but to recognize their presence and, in your original way, to adapt to their inevitable existence. Then again, coexisting with rats is probably what life is like—at least in this land.

You wake up in the morning assured that the price of gas will go up—it is abnormal if it does not. You ride the jeepney on your way to work and you shell out extra pesos for the newly approved fare hike. You say a little prayer for the blessed soul of the Cardinal who is just died. After eating dinner, you see the President of the country say “I’m sooooo sorry” on TV.

Now, the latter is not something that happens every day. Seeing the haggard-looking president deliver her public apology on national television causes a twinge of pity to some of us, although not enough mercy to stop us from using our mental faculties and continuing to discern the right from the wrong. Since when did a bland smile automatically deserve pardon? After hearing an empty speech, we, thinking Filipinos, cannot pretend nothing happened.

It is no longer a media fest that is out there. It is a mockery of a nation that is barely hanging on. While some of our country’s citizens work their bottoms off to create a decent image of our 1,107 islands, those whom we look up to discretely farts in public and we all have to suffer from the stench they emit.

It is not just PGMA. We have had our share of leaders known for their intelligence who end up sucking our resources for their personal and their families’ gain. Furthermore they and their families are still there, sucking what-is-left-to-suck. We have voted for rich leaders hoping that they, being used to wealth, would stay civilized and take their hands off our national treasury; however during and after their office they come out ten times richer, maybe more. We have elected a poor son of a Doña because we thought that he, being the poor man he claims to be, would understand majority of us. Yet somewhere along an almost sober path he fails us. We can go on enlisting the types of leaders we have had and we would wind up frustrated.

Have we run out of good people in this nation? There are 46 million Filipinos and no decent one can protect our country’s interest.

It is the most terrifying thing in the world to lose a good supply of trustworthy rulers.

Have we all turned into rats? (ending is not yet final)

The What If’s

They say that we regret the risks we do not take. However, in making decisions, you are always faced with two risks: the one you take and the one where you turn your back to. And then there are the branches of those risks. Whether you do something or not, you take a risk. Whether you say “yes” to one question or “no,” you’d still be taking risks.

It is therefore safe to conclude, that for every decision we make, we’ll always have something to regret. Because in coming up with such decision, there is one risk we inevitably did not take.

I, then, tell you, try not to let those regrets to run your lives. It’ll make making new regrets fun-ner!

Glow in the Light

They arrived today. My uniforms: four glow-in-the-light green blouses with flower embroidery at the chest area, three pin-stripe pants with the so-called “baston” cut, and one collarless pin-stripe blazer. There you go, ladies and gentlemen. It’s either I overdid describing my new set of wardrobe for the coming months or I was too honest, too accurate in describing the human enrobing stuff I received today.

Then again I may just suck at writing fashion. I am not even sure if it’s “pin-stripe” or “pin-stripped” or “pin stripe.” (It has come to my attention that it is supposed to be “pinstripe.”)

Uniforms. Uniforms are remnants of the more powerful, not to mention idealistic, fraction of society’s attempt to implement communism. A utopic society wherein no groups exist. A perfect classless society as a genuine Marxist would put it. Wearing uniforms would promote equality. No rich; no poor. We all exist in on flat plane. Peace brother!

But do uniforms do this? Do they effectively strip us off of our places in the social ladder?

I haven’t worn uniforms since high school. That’s a long seven years ago. I didn’t complain before. I went to school and I wore my uniforms. And then UP happened.

I don’t think I’d be comfortable with uniforms. The ones I am bound to wear soon don’t have any lining and so their seams are bound to rub against my skin for I-don't-know-how-long. And me not being comfortable in any type of clothing is a BIG problem. I don't really care much if I'd end up looking like a teacher even if I'm not. I can let "looking ten years older" pass. The thing is, I couldn't stand itch for an hour, let alone a day.

But I am part of the lesser powerful fraction of society so I am required to conform. Stitch my lips so I won't be able to whine!

I'm ranting; I have to end this.

I am now supposed to say, wearing a uniform and being one of the crowd poses the challenge to standout. And if I may use my new uniform as a metaphor, I'd add, my new blouse can glow in a sea of brightness; and if it can do that, why can't I? Time to shine. Time to shine!

For the one out there listening to my pleas, I was longing to shine not to glow. There is a vast difference. Don't mock me.

COMMENT

err. hate na hate ko talaga yang blouse na an. the pants i can live with but the blouse is just hideous. yeaaargggh. maybe when i finally wear the self-incriminating uniform i will also wear a bathrobe over it to hide, you know, the, err, uhm , hideousness.
Posted by: GinGmaGanda | July 10, 2005 09:02 AM

About Me 3

I am already twenty five; I have to take this “About Me” seriously.

I’m opposites fused into one. My name, for example, is somewhat an oxymoron. “Ty” stands for “tyranny” which means “dominance through threat of punishment and violence.” Meanwhile, “-rene” (from “Irene”) in Greek means “peace.”

I’m a Gemini. I blame Castor and Pollux for my multiple personality. Talking to myself keeps me sane even if I do that activity aloud. And I laugh at my own jokes too—aloud. I once took a Yin-Yang test. Apparently, my Yin rates equal to my Yang, thereby suggesting androgyny.

I’m a fan of Jessica Zafra’s cynicism but I am a sucker for Robin William’s “inspirational” movies. I have never cried while watching a movie except probably for that single tear that rolled when I saw “Mrs. Doubtfire”—and it was supposed to be a comedy.

I love kids but I refuse to have any (at least as of the moment). I hate drawing attention to myself but I feel the need to shine. I don’t understand people in general but I like being AROUND them—although not necessarily being WITH them. I am not fond of men but I love Jude Law.

I am not simple, I am not nice. But I ultimately want to do the good thing for as long as I can. I look serious but I can be really hilarious. I love writing but am not necessarily a fan of reading.

I say that I am a private person and am not used to disclosing things about me but here I am saying these things to who-knows-who.

It's My Party

My birthday makes me feel different. I'm actually used to people not remembering my "big day". It started way back in preschool. Everyone's so absorbed with the first day of classes which, most of the time, falls on my birthdate--no one, not even my so-called friends, remember my day.

However there's always a time for me to announce my DOB (Date of Birth). You see, kids, when introducing themselves in class, are limited to saying their name, nickname, age and/or birthday--BARABING! There you go! At that point, my teacher will call on the whole class to sing for me. Probably the most unforgettable Happy-Birthday Performance I ever got was during my 3rd year in highschool. My birthday was revealed to the whole class while we were having our music class. It's quite convenient because we were inside the music room and my music teacher was already sitting in front of a piano. After a few seconds of vocalization, the whole class were able to deliver a fair version of the most sang song in the world, complete with accompaniment, all dedicated to me. It was enough to make me feel special.

Even without having anyone perform a live song for me, I still feel fine this year. People actually remembered my day and actually greeted me. :-) It feels great really.

Before I end, I'd like to share a birthday trivia I learned from my professor in college. On your birthday, people will tell you, "happy birthday" then you'll reply, "thank you." Actually that practice is grammatically incorrect. "Happy birthday" is a phrase made up of the adjective "happy" and the noun "birthday." When put together, they form a phrase that describes a type of "birthday." Technically, the phrase does not say anything about you so why thank the "greeter?" The more apt response would be, "yes, it is a happy birthday" or "no, it isn't". Of course, we can always assume that "happy birthday" is an elliptical phrase which really means, "I hope you'll have a happy birthday." In such case, you can say, "I hope so, too" or "thank you for hoping that." Since the greeter is delivering a shortened message, you as the "gretee(?)" can probably give out an abbreviated retort and say, "thanks!" Therefore, in order for the exchange to be valid, both you and the greeter must be playing the same language game, one that doesn't mind violating grammatical laws. At that note, I'd like to say, it will be best to disregard the trivia I just shared. :-)

GMA Drama Special

GMA7 is celebrating its 55th year; I am celebrating my 25th birthday. Yes, I was born exactly 30 years after GMA was established. I still do not know if such coincidence means anything special but I still sometimes catch myself hoping that it does.

You see, I have convinced myself long ago that my dream job is at GMA. That is, being a part of a TV production at GMA. It kept me through college. Having that goal gave me something to look forward to. It drove me into trying to excel in school for as much as I can. You know what they often say, if you have impressive grades chances are you’ll land on a great job. For that, I can claim that GMA has turned me into a bit of a good student.

My GMA dream is like believing in life after death. If you have no notion of life after death, just imagine how lost you’d turn out. You’d give in to your instincts, to your id all the time. Never mind if you hurt anyone. Never mind if you did something bad. For as long as you’re satisfied, you can do whatever you want. There wouldn’t be any bigger picture for you except of course the “now.”

Believing in life after death gives you a reason to set goals. It gives you direction.

GMA was my bigger picture. It sort of gave me direction.

But now that I’m trudging along my path, with GMA almost—but not quite—within my reach, things seem to have changed. GMA is no longer a dream. It has transformed itself from being a metaphor to being a simile. My goal is no longer GMA; my goal is something as big as GMA. Success is no longer GMA; success is similar to GMA’s.

A few days ago I was ready to let go of my GMA dream. I was not giving up. I was simply moving on. I’ve seen the light. And I know that I can’t remain fixated to a single dream forever.

Then my phone rings. GMA is within reach after all. Somebody must have thought that only when I cease hoping will it be the perfect time to give the chance to turn my fantasy into reality.

Now I’m lost. Once your bigger picture is placed in your palm, only a void will be left guiding you.

Life is complicated. It can never be simplified.

Quarter life crisis

Seven days from now, I'd be celebrating my silver jubillee here on earth. Still, I haven't done anything good for people-kind (humankind is not gender-sensitive enough for me). I haven't saved a drowning kid, haven't helped an old lady cross the street, haven't given birth, haven't been into politics..there are many things I haven't done.

What have I been doing this past 25 years?

About Me 2

My horoscope says I’m sexually cool.



Enlighten me.