Entries for December, 2005

December 1st, 2005

advent

Been downloading audio files from limewire two days in a row now.  Still working with my dial-up, it takes at least thirty minutes to complete one file.  I've no qualms about it coz I get to change windows and work on something else while waiting.

Searching while waiting, I rediscovered the baby voice of Lea Salonga in I Am But A Small Voice.  It brought back memories of my childhood when we as kids would sing the song together, so full of life and hope.  I went on to look for the lyrics so I can join Lea in her crusade for peace, prosperity, and love for all mankind when a crazy idea struck me.  The song reminded me of John the Baptist, a small voice crying in the desert-- "Prepare ye the way of the Lord!"

If I were to produce a contemporary musicale of the life of Jesus, I'd make John the Baptist sing this song of Lea's:

Ako’y munting tinig
May munting pangarap
Samyo ng bulaklak
Sa hanging malinis

May ngiti sa araw
At kung umuulan
Makapagtampisaw
Malayang daigdig
Ng kawalang malay

I am but a small voice
I am but a small dream
The fragrance of a flow’r
In the unpolluted air

I am but a small voice
I am but a small dream
To smile upon the sun
Be free to dance and sing
Be free to sing my song to ev’ryone

Chorus:
Come young citizens of the world
We are one, we are one
Come young citizens of the world
We are one, we are one

We have one hope
We have one dream
And with one voice
We sing...

Coda:
Peace, prosperity
And love for all mankind

Peace, prosperity
And love for all mankind

(instrumental)

I am but a small voice
I am but a small dream
To smile upon the sun
Be free to dance and sing
Be free to sing my song to ev’ryone

Come young citizens of the world
We are one, we are one
Come young citizens of the world
We are one, we are one

We have one hope
We have one dream
And with one voice
We sing, we sing

Peace, prosperity
And love for all mankind

Peace, prosperity
And love for all mankind

The coming of the Lord is a coming to pass of all our hopes, that is, peace, prosperity, and love for all mankind.  It's not about rewarding the good and punishing the wicked but making life much easier for all of us--allowing us to be free to dance and sing, to appreciate the fragrance of the flower in the unpolluted air, to enjoy life as we sing our dreams with everyone because we've seen how we should live as humans and triumph over the inevitability of death in the person of Jesus.

Posted by meetjopeblack at 02:02 PM | mix me my whey

December 4th, 2005

glitches

It was on a Saturday late night show (no, it's not Kuya Germs's "Walang Tulugan"!) that I first heard a lecture on how to make a business plan.  Being a Pre-Divinity Major, I have not a bit of any management skills up my sleeves.  Although I have participated in brain stormings for strategic plannings, I cannot claim any knowledge of its mechanics.  I just know what it's for and why we should do it--the mark of a true philosopher.

When the lecture started, I picked up my notepad and pencil on my sideboard and hurriedly scribbled down notes like when you're getting the ingredients of a recipe of your favorite dish from a Sunday morning cooking show.  Here's what I got:

                                                                       my notes 

                                                                           VMOKRAPISPATRES

V stands for vision. You have to have one to propel you to action.  M is your mission: here you identify for whom your plan is and why.  O is your objective:  a restatement of the vision.  This time, more specific.  Is it to increase profit or decrease inefficiency or what have you? KRA's are your Key Result Areas: the concrete indicators of success...

...these are some of the things I've learned last night.  Along with EA (external analysis) and IA (internal analysis) and that you do OT (opportunities-threats) first before SW (strengths-weaknesses) rather than the other way around so you know when to come in and where and won't waste precious resources.

Although these things are common sense knowledge.  It's always helpful to see them organized in diagrams such as the one displayed above, then one willl see how simple things can be.  You have a vision, work at it while continuously evaluating the process.  There's a what for everything and has a how alongside it.   Easy, right?

What causes our problems then if we have the formula for a perfect plan?

My notes are nowhere clear; no easy reference.  Who wrote that?  Hmm.  Now we know the culprit.

Posted by meetjopeblack at 08:48 PM | mix me my whey

December 10th, 2005

more than just a show

Nene is the tagalog term of endearment for a young little girl.  Nene is the Totoy.  The tagalog Inday.  The human Puti or Bantay.  She is the girl in the family of five:  Nanay, Tatay, Nene (Ate), Totoy (Kuya), and Bunso.  The name connotes innocence and naivete just like when one notices a teenage girl acting childishly as "Neneng-nene pa siya."  Or remember that TF movie, Nene?  The young lady although has physically matured still behaves childfoolishly to the delight of nymphomaniac voyeurs.  Nene in this sense is our hackneyed version of Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita--pure, amiable, puny, and virginal.

This Nene however is being redefined by the Nene of ABS-CBN's Pinoy Big Brother.  She is strong physically and emotionally.  She resists; she acts according to reason and demands similarly to others a balance of the heart and mind with accompanying movement of the hands.  "Sumusunod po kami sa utos niyo pero 'pag alam naming baluktot hindi kami papayag... parang kumuha kami ng bato na ipupukpok sa ulo namin... hindi ako pwedeng manahimik."   This was what she told the faceless house-owner, Big Brother, when they were asked to burn or scissor their housemates' clothes.

Many Filipinos found their voice in the outspoken Nene.  Nene became their beacon of woman empowerment and gender equality.  Nene is the exemplar of ferocious strength and reason not always linked with the word woman and more particularly, Filipina.

                

This emerging character in the Filipino psyche remains to be an ideal until people see the femininity in Nene's seeming masculine traits.  Only when we stop regarding her as a butch can we see the entombed side of Lolita (or our very own Maria Clara!).  As long as people see her as an exceptional case or as an icon to be put on a pedestal rather than a person, a woman for that matter, to be emulated, Nene will cease to become real and would only be wastedly caster-plastered in the mausoleum of Filipino myths.

Posted by meetjopeblack at 11:39 AM | mix me my whey

December 11th, 2005

pbb ends the day the last housemate stepped out of the house

The thirteen contestants became instant celebrities the day they came on air 24x7.  I must admit I became a fan of the series and a virtual housemate as I listened to their non-stop chatter, laughed at their all too human follies, ate my own version of their food along with them, partied and frolicked and cried and dreamt and got bored and experienced with the housemates.  It was actually quite a sad moment for me to see my morning buddies out of the tube now.  All I have are multi-colored bars and a buzz sound on channel 53.  It was a fantastical-life I shared with them through TV and now, my room ends where my TV begins.  Again.

The only story I followed after eviction is the JB and Say love story as they were very similar to my own experience.  It was frightening, or perhaps just a wake-up call for me to see that after the long, hard and cold waiting of the separated lovers, they'll end up not as expected--no tears of joy to welcome the beloved or a warm embrace to soothe the gasping spirit.  I realized that indeed, it can happen.  It did happen. It might happen... (but that'd be for another entry!).

After the big night, the grand announcement of the winner, the game and the virtual home ended, or is supposed to end.  I can only squirm at the brouhaha ABS-CBN is throwing for the housemates.  They're no longer in the house, the 110 day contract for public exposure has been completed.  To extend the "PBB house" outside is totally unfair to the contestants who of course, would not mind it now because of all the attention they're getting.  What I fear is the intrusive business demand and fanatical ownership of the lives of the contestants who by joining PBB, only aspired to win some money and a career somewhere like all other average Joes.  The lights are out, the PBB house opened, how long will the management and the fans don the contestants celebrity status and expect celebrity demeanor in them?

This is too much too soon for the housemates.   A celebrity is made, the status is earned through years of practice and novel performance.  But apparently, ABS-CBN has other plans for them.  The network has upped the ante and leid them with airtime till January harping on their crowd drawing charm for ratings.  The silly intrigues are brewing; the exposure far from peaking.  I, even if I am a professed fan,  no longer  care about what's going happen to them or what issues they have to come to grips with in the entertainment industry.  One, the show is over and two, it's none of my business.  Their celebrity status should be over!  It's over!  They are contestants; only contestants.  And Pinoy Big Brother? Just another game show which has already ended.  It should end now before we turn our country into one big brother house and us, a part of their daily or weekly tasks.

Posted by meetjopeblack at 10:13 PM | 1 bench press(es).

stigma

"Mag-ama sa Marikina natagpuang patay!" (with accent on the last word!) "Uma ayaw sa mga taga-probinsya!" "Pangulo nagsinungaling!" "SEA Games dinaya!"  These are the kind of headlines we are usually bombarded with daily on print or on TV.  They do call attention; making one want to listen or read the rest of the story only to find out that there's more to the headlines than one actually perceives.  That when one goes through the context of quotes recorded or footages taken, a not too apparent story affronts the prejudgment of the receiver.

This makes me wonder, what is the role of the media?  By definition, media is a mechanism to convey a message or a story.  It is a medium, the intermediary between reality and the people.  By its power, it can amplify a small detail as is done in the movies, for instance, when a drop of sweat is magnified a thousand times over, slow-mo, to build suspense while Ethan hangs from the ceiling of a sealed chamber in Mission: Impossible.  It can also hide from the viewers whatever flaw a singer has by panning away while he lip syncs poorly in a production number.  Or it can relay in raw whatever is recorded on tape or on camera as is done in senate hearings.  It is powerful sans doute but the thing is, it can be misused and it is being misused!

What is the media's role?  Is the media there to relay what's real or to get the scoop and weave a new narrative out of the ordinary?  In the former, I purposedly did not use ferret out the truth because I absolutely believe that this is the role of the justice system and the state.  The media conveys what is brought out in the open and not the active agent in spelling out the truth or interpreting the facts.  I guess, I've just stated my position.  Yes, media men engaging in public service that is, active and actual involvement in advocacy and social service under the banner of Serbisyong Totoo is already out of bounds.  Acting as the Imbestigador or being the Bitag just to get a fresh story is confusing media being a medium to being that specific thing which needs mediation.  Here the media is in itself the story with the victim as front.

My position is that it is not in the league of news anchors (entertainment reporters and hosts included) to air their opinions about what's being reported.  Doing so will muddle clear lines between facts and opinions.  Sure they have their biases, their manok's and all but that gives no fair chance to guests, interviewees, and the subject in general since after the latter has been aired, the former holds the mic and thus, can either galvanize or refute, interpret, re-interpret or purposely mis-interpret the subject's position to the confusion of the viewers.  Truth then will depend on the final word of the reporter.

Take the case of Uma saying he didn't like Racquel because she's a probinsyana (both characters are from the series Pinoy Big Brother).  Viewing the original footage and the interviews that follow, Uma meant that their lifestyles stemming from their backgrounds were bound to clash.  But the good hosts of a  talk show glossed over the idea of Uma hating probinsyanas and judged his whole character as being arrogant.  Worse than the spoken negative interpretation of the soundbyte, the hosts rolled their eyes and wore sour faces.  Such images will definitely affect how the story will be perceived by the viewers.  Even Uma's interview which has the objective, as the hosts claimed, to help him clarify his statements was very hostile [to the interviewee].  It was actually more a cathartic moment for the hosts, one of whom a victim of Uma's candid frankness, as they confronted Uma with their personal issues.  The hosts too, as a prelude to the interview skewed public sympathy to their side as they lashed below the belt comments on Uma like having dirty fingernails, defending their ranks for image's sake rather than for truth, value, responsibility, and professionalism.  This is the media as they practice it--media is not there to mediate but to stir up controversies, the so-called, buzz.

Media is no truth factory.  Or perhaps, it's better to remind us that the media should be no truth factory.  It cannot weave for us the events we will put ourselves in.  Otherwise, media becomes a demi-god creating its own truths distorting our reality, stigmatizing individuals to stereotypes and/or whimsical characters in a world-wide studio or broadsheet.  The media is only a tool to transmit a message to the people.  The message comes from what's real and not from an edited idea of what will rate or what will click.

We've heard people say that the audience is now more intelligent, more picky with the shows they will watch.  But it also remains to be a fact that no-brainer shows click best with the masses.  Are our shows and news like so because of the audience?  Or are the audience like so because of what is being fed to them by the media?

Seriously, I don't know.  All I know is that I cannot allow myself to be desensitized and overrun by media sensationalism and gross misconduct.  Probably that's one of the reasons why people blog--to seek alternative forms of re-dress and relay their own truths wittingly or unwittingly snubbed by the mainstream media.

Does Uma have a published blog?  Maybe we can hear more of his thoughts through that page.

Read blogs and you'll know.

Posted by meetjopeblack at 11:07 PM | 5 bench press(es).

December 13th, 2005

free weights

It's gym time and I set up my audio system at the lounge for ambient sounds.  I played the soundtrack cd I burned to pump up my drive.  Still sluggish and lazy, I went to my mom who's gardening in our backyard.  I noticed new lines of flowering plants bordering one set of garden ornaments.  My mom said she planted one-layered carnations.  Lovely they are!  She said she bought them at the seedling bank; dunno if that is a symbol of her welcoming my fiancee to our family grounds.  Lovely, really lovely.   Austin Powers' Theme plays.

It's now the Rolling Stones' Paint It Black.  I can hear the sound blast loud and clear all over the house.  Adrenalin's rushing and I'm now ready to go lift weights.  Uhuhuhhuhhuh... mmmhmmm.... mmmm.... humhhmmhuhmmm... uhhmmm.  It's shoulders today.  I want mean broad shoulders!  Uhuhuhhuhhuh... mmmhmmm.... mmmm.... humhhmmhuhmmm... uhhmmm. 

At the lanai, much to my surprise, the music is barely heard.  It's just a few square feet off the lounge and none!  "Ah!  The glass door needs to be opened,"  I thought in a eureka moment.  As I approached the door, I was held back by the idea that the music might fade at the far side of the house if I open the door.  Of course that was stupid!  There's no limit to the sound of music however vast the space may be and that, music does not diminish in proportion to its receivers. 

I slid it  open and was overpowered by music's force.  "I'm up for training!" The beat of the drums moves me.  Aja-aja-aja-aja-aja-aja-ahhhh!  There's no end to the edifying effect of music to its hearers.  Music only fades when one purposely moves away from it or decide to resist hearing it.

Alanis is now singing Uninvited.   Gym time's two sets away from being over.  Two sets of ten, then one. 1... 3... 7... 10.  Poof! Done.  Yet, the music will continue to play and edify until a finger presses stop.

Off to the shower, I continue to be infected by the tunes playing in the air...

...and I sing because I'm free.

Posted by meetjopeblack at 06:37 PM | 2 bench press(es).

December 20th, 2005

contingency

Economics says we'd better learn to manage scarce resources. There's no bounty of supply while the demand is constant if not growing exponentially. Even if everyone puts their desires on rein, the supply will never be enough for the market.

KFC.  I love their original recipe chicken.  Nothing beats a finger lickin' good chicken!  You dine with friends, each orders his/her own bucket.  No matter how strong one's appetitie is, all you have is your own order.  If you're with good company though, one's excess can be shared to one who hasn't had his/her fill yet.   And I've seen people who'd purposely order less hoping for excesses from their friends.  Wise eh!  A totally different story however when one dine's alone.

In long distance relationships, you're left with your own bucket of energy.  You've no one to share your excesses with nor have someone to draw energy from when in lack.  Together, dull moments are but moments to recharge, or  one can assume cruise control while the other rests.  And partners get the cue instantly when in such situations.  Apart, dull moments are moments in limbo--one's too afraid their relationship may be in peril or one gets easily weary confronting his/her own ghosts.  Too afraid to risk, too juvenile to initiate growth, as if one is incapacitated to steer his/her life to order.  But really, there's nothing to be afraid of.

Being away from each other is something one should learn to cherish.  At this time, one is able to push one's self to the edge to discover one's self so he/she may know what he/she is bringing into the relationship.  Once the eternal promise has been spoken, there'd be less time to do things alone for self-discovery.  I cannot emphasize how important self-awareness is.  Without it, there'd be encroachment of ego boundaries, personal issues will be projected on others and the blissful unity will turn into one helluva curse!

Long distance relationships are cool offs with the commitment still intact,  love still unshaken, communication still on, and everything else a true lover does continues to be in full swing except for physical intimacy.  It is a cool-off because you're cooling down intense passions which sometimes obstructs your view of things which are plainly out there.  It's a cool-off because you're venturing out on free space on your own hence inevitably opening up new possibilities for yourself and the partner distanced from you.  LDR's are opportunities to strengthen the bond within and without.  Flowers, chocolates, cards, phone calls, online chat, emails, even a list of pasalubongs! can never compensate for the time lost without each other's presence.  Try as lovers may but these will never be at par with real time face-to-face talk and companionship.   However, lack of chats, emails, phone calls, or surprise packages are not automatically tell-tale signs of a doomed relationship.  It's just that a long distance relationship is a whole new different dynamic.  All one can do is live the distance and play the new rules of the game.  Be apart to grow together until the day you'll meet again.   And when that day comes and you found that you no longer are for each other, it's still something to be grateful for because that means you've come to terms with your self and that you two together just cannot be.

Richard Rorty says that one should live with the contingency of his/her truths.  Because we hold on too dearly to our current truths, we fail to see how bounteous this world is for new and more desirable truths--truths which are more in sync with our person and with the partners we wish to live with.  Scarcity can be managed easily if one foregos of vicious attachments to otherwise contingent desires.  For a relationship to last, one must ironically learn to accept the temporality of eternity.

Posted by meetjopeblack at 02:20 PM | 1 bench press(es).

December 23rd, 2005

a christmas gift to the self

Five years I've been teaching in the Ateneo and I've never learned to manage student feedback.  I take them seriously, too seriously!  Been devastated thrice because of this.  Two students gave me a thumbs down when they said they strongly disagreed with the statement, "the teacher showed care and concern for his students."  One student approached me once to say she shouldn't have studied hard for my finals had she known she'd only get a B in my course.  Another student narrated to me how she told her new Philosophy teacher that she doesn't know Marcel's Phenomenology because "Sir Jope doesn't assign  readings; all he does in class is talk and talk and talk!"  I can still remember how when she bumped into me one time, she went straight to deliver those lines!

Including my students this school year, I've had more or less 900 students who passed under my care.  With all humility, I've had satisfied students who still love me and remember my philosophy even after they've finished my couse and have gotten their degrees.  I get favorable feedback from my students every year and in all honesty, I can say, I deserve those.  I know I'm a good teacher, I've taken my role seriously, professionally, wholeheartedly.   That's why it hurts big time when students feel I am a let down.  That for me is one of the unforgivable curses I inflict on myself.  More than the hurt ego is the feeling of not performing well enough, not meeting my students eye to eye.  Comments like those break my heart.

Tuesday, last day of classes, my 6-730 class handed me a christmas card:

                                                                   click to read contents         

It somehow drew a smile back on my face. Thank you; it was a much needed gift at this low point in my life.  But, the echoes and images of the feedback of the four students continue to linger and shatters the fragile worn out self to more delicate broken pieces.

Enough.  Enough.   Five years and 900 students are greater than four.  Although this is no numbers game, the four are equally important, let me start dusting myself off and bounce back up again.  Eva Galvey, my spiritual director, reminded me how young I still am.  I still have the luxury of time to retreat, restrategize, renew, and be reborn.  I'll give that to myself this Christmas...

alas, that's Jesus being reborn!

Posted by meetjopeblack at 06:47 PM | 5 bench press(es).

chest-nots

I figured a way to crack a chestnut with the meat whole and unscathed.  First you hold the nut(?) with both of your thumbs.  Press the flat side if there is one (or at least the most flat part) and its counterpart bottom as hard as you can to split the joint open.  Once broken, chip the shell sideways following the contours of the meat until it's all mean and clean!  Taught my mom this technique.  She'd rather do her cut and chip style using a pair of scissors than follow my three or four step instructions.  Saw her cheat one time:  she returned the chestnut she was trying to open when she found its shell too soft to crack.   Lesson number one:  it is easier to open a rock hard chestnut shell than a soft one.  One solid press and the hard one succumbs to the pressure and breaks.  A softee absorbs it, bends, and crushes the meat inside.

When I was still a kid and too puny to crack one open, I'd place one at the hinges of the door to break its covering.  Of course, I wouldn't get anything much but crumbs of dusty chestnuts.  Germs, bacteria, microbes don't matter when you're a kid.  Life is so easy and cheery; you think you're invincible.  Lesson number two:  no chestnut is as invincible as one thinks.  A door can slam while one is at its hinges.  Soiled and dusty it is; crushed it can't give anything much except the idea that one is actually eating a chestnut.

The batch of chestnuts I bought yesterday were not as sweet as today. I'm not sure what brought out the sweet flavor.  Maybe because we didn't reheat it.  Maybe because they were placed in a tray.  Maybe because it aged, it matured.  I don't know.  One thing's certain, it tastes better today.  Lesson number three:  chestnuts change flavor through time.  As it matures, it tastes sweeter (at least for this set of mandarin chestnuts!)  Would it taste as sweet tomorrow?

Merry chestnuts!

Posted by meetjopeblack at 09:40 PM | 2 bench press(es).

December 28th, 2005

confessions of a futurist

Listening to Robert Downey Jr.'s The Futurist.  His mood is sentimental jazz.  His voice similar to Dave Matthews.  This cd is one for a long drive, maybe up to the beach, alone, splats of rain on the windshield, 60kph on the highway.  Reminiscing, thinking, speaking silent blurbs of non-referrent thoughts.  Wishing things are better, wanting to undo what's been done.  Sobbing.

                                                                  

The mellow-dy resounds the melancholia that is me right now. I've lost a lot this year and will be losing more in the next few days and weeks.  My JTA class left for different universities last June.  Cathy left for the States last October.  My nephew and his parents moved out of our place and in to their new November.  Leila, my cousin, is now in Australia, for good.  She left a couple of days ago.   Joel, my bestman's tying the knot at three this afternoon.  Dr. Rodriguez, my skin doctor's leaving for Canada soon.  Rex, my friend's off to Malaysia in January to find his luck as a chef there.  Who's next in line?

Everyone's on exodus, onto their own promised lands, while the rest of us are stuck in the deadlock of dreams.  On the one hand, I'm happy for those who are moving on, yet on the other hand, I can't help but be envious of their newfound opportunities and their courage to risk it all for the future.  I am stuck in the opportunities of the past.

However, life need not be miserable for those who are left behind.  Madonna and her new album, Confessions on a Dance Floor, is a testament to that which seems dead and passe as something which can continue to be an undeniable force to reckon with.  Madonna in her late 40's and dance music of the late nineties and early two thousands remain alive as they play to re-fill the air with electronica vibe.  There is hope as long as one doesn't surrender one's soul to trends and the bandwagon.  One cannot be left behind by anyone and anything when in him/her is a luminance of his/her desires.  He/She can choose to dance in the apposite music for his/her self in the floor he/she deems fit with or without others dancing with him/her.  The first question to answer is, where do I want to go?  then comes only in close second, the question, who do I tag along with me?

                                                                   

On January 3, I'm winning my Cathy back.  We will restrategize to ensure a dance-able future for the both of us--individually first and then as a couple.

Posted by meetjopeblack at 01:20 PM | mix me my whey