Entries for June, 2007

June 2nd, 2007

tremors

An old woman, probably sick with Parkinson's, bought a small bar of Cadbury's.  She was hiding from us beside her at the counter her shaking hand.  She was obviously fighting the tremors with her slow and careful movement.   She was avoiding any eye contact with anyone beside her; she was looking steadily down on her wallet.  Then came the attendant who with all hesitation informed her she handed him twenty bucks less.  She panicked--her tone and mode fluctuated hearing the price of that small piece of chocolate bar, maybe as a surprise for her granddaughter.  She drew the remaining twenty from her wallet; her hand now shaking vigorously.  She quietly stood there, her face deep with anxiety.  She gave her all for that small token of love for her granddaughter.

Will the granddaughter see in the chocolate bar the terrible pains her grandma had to go through to get her that gift?  Will she at least give her grandma a hug and with a full smile say 'thank you'?

You should've seen the old woman with Parkinson's.  She's weak and fragile but is so full of love.  Her love controls the tremors. 

 

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

June 3rd, 2007

a mantra or a change in paradigm

 
In the myopia of my own concerns, I'm bearing the weight of the world. No cheery person matters; no simple pleasures count. But what am I compared to the vastness and magnificence of space? I am but a tiny point and my problems tinier than what I deem them to be.
 
The world is huge and its richness never scarce. There is enough for everybody.
 
Just wait and it will be.

Posted by meetjopeblack at 05:45 PM | 1 bench press(es).

June 7th, 2007

the last scenario

What would it be like...

when I'm at my deathbed counting the hours and the minutes and the seconds till a flatline comes?

Will I be scared?

Should I be frightened?

Who do I wait for?  Is the ferryman coming?  From which side of the room will he appear?  Will the ICU's ceiling be split open by a luminous beam?  Will a fluid hole appear on the wall or will I be sucked in by the bed and fall down zooming out from the people around my bed?

As the soul parts from the body, whose hand do I hold on to?  No one.  It must be a very sad moment catching anyone's hand for support and affirmation and getting none because I no longer can without the body.   I try and I try and it's like drowning in the pool with no one beside you to pull you out of the water.  You swing your arms, clasp your hand and grasp anything.  And every second you reach for none, you melt into the pool and see clouded water and nothing.

Desolate, I alone stand at the portal to the unknown--no one to egg me on, everyone's looking at me dead, too busy grieving for themselves.  I am by myself in the greatest but last event of my life.

I'm dead.

It's a scary place.  I don't know what's next and where I am going. 

Posted by meetjopeblack at 06:01 PM | mix me my whey

June 8th, 2007

i am still (and also) but a child

Read this post at the clinic while waiting for my doctor to arrive.  I thought I was the one speaking.

21 Memos from a Child

1. don't spoil me, i know quite well that i ought not have all that i ask for, I'm only testing you.

2. don't be afraid to be firm with me, i prefer it. it makes me feel more secure.

3. don't make me form bad habits, i have to rely on you to detect them in the early stages.

4. don't make me feel smaller than i am, it only makes me bahave stupidly "big".

5. don't correct me in front of people if you can help it. i'll take much more notice if you talk quietly with me in private.

6. don't make me feel my mistakes are sins, it upsets my sense of values.

7. don't protect me from consequences, i need to learn the painful way sometimes.

8. don't be too upset when i say "i hate you," it isn't you i hate but your power to thwart me.

9. don't take too much notice of my small ailments, sometimes they get me the attention i need.

10. don't nag.  if you do, i have to protect myself by appearing deaf.

11. don't forget that i cannot explain myself as well as i should like. this is why i'm not always very accurate.

12. don't make rash promises. remember that i feel badly let down when promises are broken.

13. don't tax my honesty too much. i'm easily frightened into telling lies.

14. don't be inconsistent. that completely confuses me and makes me lose faith in you.

15. don't tell me my fears are silly. they are terribly real and you cannot do much to reassure me if you try to understand.

16. don't put me off when i ask questions. if you do, you will find that i will stop asking and seek my information elsewhere.

17. don't even suggest that you are perfect or infallible. it gives me too great a shock when i discover that you are neither.

18. don't even think that it is beneath your dignity to apologize to me. an honest apology makes me surprisingly warm toward you.

19. don't forget how quickly i am growing up. it must be very difficult to keep pace with me, but please do try.

20. don't forget i love experimenting. i couldn't get on without it so please put up with it.

21. don't forget that i can't thrive without lots of understanding and love, but i don't need to tell you, do i?

Posted by meetjopeblack at 10:39 AM | mix me my whey

every second counts

To realize the value of TEN YEARS, ask a newly divorced couple.

To realize the value of FOUR YEARS, ask a college graduate.

To realize the value of A YEAR, ask a student who has failed his final exam.

To realize the value of A MONTH, ask a mother who's given birth to a premature baby.

To realize the value of A WEEK, ask an editor of a weekly newspaper.

To realize the value of A DAY, ask a daily wage laborer who has bills to pay.

To realize the value of AN HOUR, ask a convict sentenced to death ask the couple who will have to part because of work.

To realize the value of A MINUTE, ask a person who has missed the train.

To realize the value of A SECOND, ask a person who has survived an accident.

To realize the value of A MILLISECOND, ask a person who won the silver medal in the Olympics.

.

To realize how long time is, ask the lovers who are waiting to meet. They want to fastforward everything just to be with each other. And when they do find each other, time pauses into oblivion until they sweetly wake up beside each other the following morning. The sad part is, at this precise moment, they realize that they have but one hour before they again say goodbye. And the waiting will again commence. If only they can cheat time and dictate to it their own pace; that would be their heaven.

I wish I can have a repeat of wine and cheese with her like last night, like when we were still boy-girlfriends, like when life was not about bills and jobs. But situations change and we do grow up. Romance assumes a different form.

Posted by meetjopeblack at 10:53 AM | mix me my whey

June 12th, 2007

a genius died today: may foundationalist philosophy die with him so that we'd be through with the marginalization of people(s)

I've always thought that the reason why many philosophers don't like his philosophy is because they don't want to give up their clutch to power. And with my encounters with different philosophy teachers and students, seeing them shoot down Rorty even before he could develop his theory, proves my observation and Rorty's appeal for contingency.

.

--from The Washington Post--

Richard Rorty, 75; Leading U.S. Pragmatist Philosopher
By Adam Bernstein
Washington Post Staff Writer
Monday, June 11, 2007; B06

Richard Rorty, 75, an intellectual whose often deeply unconventional approach to mainstream philosophic thought brought him wide public recognition as one of the leading thinkers of his era, died June 8 at his home in Palo Alto, Calif. He had pancreatic cancer.

During Dr. Rorty's long teaching career -- at Princeton University, the University of Virginia and, most recently, Stanford University -- he championed the application of philosophy beyond academic corridors and hoped to influence public discussions of democracy and liberalism. In 1981, he received one of the first MacArthur Foundation "genius grants."

Such books as "Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature" and "Contingency, Irony and Solidarity" brought Dr. Rorty broad recognition in his field, and his essays for mainstream newspapers and magazines added to his stature.

His work was read not just in philosophy departments but also in classes on literature and political theory. He once described his career as a 40-year search about "what, if anything, philosophy was good for."

An heir to William James and John Dewey, Dr. Rorty advocated a philosophy known as pragmatism, which shunned what he considered a fruitless search to answer unknowable questions: What is the meaning of life? Do other people exist? He had rejected the field of analytic philosophy on the ground that it attempts to address those questions, which he largely considered a waste of time, and had created something akin to a hunt for
timeless truths, another idea he strongly criticized.

 His dismissal of analytic philosophy led some of his harshest critics, including Bernard Williams of Oxford University, to write that Dr. Rorty was a relativist who believed truth was dispensable. Dr. Rorty's supporters saw an important distinction: that Dr. Rorty was carrying on the pragmatic tradition of seeing truth as something created by humans in
their struggle to cope with the world around them and not simply eternal truths suddenly found by them.

Michael Williams, philosophy department chairman at Johns Hopkins University, said Dr. Rorty, one of his mentors, "taught the lesson there are no fixed and permanent foundations for anything, that anything could be changed. Where some see this as cause for despair, he saw this as cause for hope because it meant we could always do better. . . . He reveled in contingency," what happens as a result of human progress.

Williams added: "Instead of trying to define the essence of human nature, Rorty thought we should creatively think up new possibilities for ourselves -- what to be, how to live. He said we are not hostage to how things are. He spoke of pragmatism as a future-oriented philosophy."

Richard McKay Rorty was born Oct. 4, 1931, in New York City. His parents were writers and activists drawn to the socialist theories of Leon Trotsky, and their social democratic influence pervaded Dr. Rorty's writings.

Another early influence on his thinking was his maternal grandfather, Walter Rauschenbusch, a Baptist clergyman who founded the 19th-century American "social gospel" movement.

As a child, Dr. Rorty was compelled by his parents to read two volumes of the "Dewey Commission of Inquiry Into the Moscow Trials" and other tomes steeped in tales of social injustice. He said such books were regarded "in the way which other children thought of their family's Bible: They were books that radiated redemptive truth and moral splendor."

He also recalled the importance of his childhood interest in wild orchids, which he found near his parents' property in western New Jersey. He developed a strong aesthetic yearning for such "socially useless flowers," he later wrote in his autobiographical essay "Trotsky and the Wild Orchids."

He spoke of hoping to find a way to balance this appreciation of pure beauty with his parents' emphasis on intellectual purity -- and he described philosophy as a way to work through his competing beliefs.

A precocious thinker, Dr. Rorty entered the University of Chicago at 15 after skipping several grades. He told London's Guardian newspaper, "I escaped from the bullies who regularly beat me up on the playground of my high school, bullies who, I assumed, would somehow wither away once capitalism had been overcome."


At Chicago, he immersed himself in the Great Books program that was the school's signature offering for undergraduates. For a time, he once wrote, he admired Platonic thought because it "had all the advantages of religion, without requiring the humility which Christianity demanded, and of which I was apparently incapable."

By 1952, he had completed undergraduate and master's degrees in philosophy from Chicago and went on to receive a doctorate in philosophy from Yale University in 1956.

After Army service, he taught at Wellesley College and then at Princeton from 1961 to 1982. He was the Kenan professor of humanities at the University of Virginia from 1982 to 1998, when he retired for the firsttime. He accepted a post-retirement teaching assignment at Stanford as a professor of comparative literature and retired again in 2005.

He was a restless intellectual for much of his career. While editing the 1967 book "The Linguistic Turn," he expressed doubts about the idea that analytic philosophy had made great progress by recasting traditional questions about the relation between thought and reality as questions about how language manages to represent the world.

Dr. Rorty saw such ideas as rephrasing the same old questions that he considered as having outlived their usefulness.

Starting in the early 1970s, he began to break from mainstream analytic philosophy in general, and this isolated him from many of his Princeton colleagues who continued to see analytic streams of thought as vibrant.

His 1979 book, "Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature," advanced many of his controversial beliefs. The book sought to dispense with what he considered the grandiose and fruitless attempts to seek out the foundations of knowledge and ethics -- presented over the years as timeless truths. Instead he wanted to focus on what was often called a nonfoundationalist philosophy that combined teachings of Dewey, Martin Heidegger and Ludwig Wittgenstein.

In later years, Dr. Rorty's books "Contingency, Irony and Solidarity," "Achieving Our Country" and "Philosophy and Social Hope" used similar arguments to discuss the nature of liberalism and how democracy can thrive through pragmatic thought. This wound up addressing a spectrum of relevant topics from feminism to human rights and how humans have found new ways to treat one another as needs have arisen.

 Regarded in some circles as an intellectual superstar, Dr. Rorty remained a reserved, almost shy figure in person. He was known to reply courteously to nearly all his mail, from everyone from undergraduates to fellow philosophers who criticized him.

He could be a skeptical, self-deprecating thinker who had a vague sense that his own contribution to modern philosophy might someday be seen as a passing phase, that in the last analysis, there is no last analysis.

In private, he traveled from Australia to the Brazilian rain forest to indulge an interest in bird-watching.

His marriage to philosopher Amelie Oksenberg Rorty ended in divorce.

Survivors include his wife of 34 years, biomedical ethicist Mary Varney Rorty of Palo Alto; a son from his first marriage, Jay Rorty of Santa Cruz, Calif.; two children from his second marriage, Patricia Rorty of Berkeley, Calif., and Kevin Rorty of Richmond; and two grandchildren.

Posted by meetjopeblack at 05:42 PM | mix me my whey

June 15th, 2007

the real king of the road

Lady asks the barker, "Magkano mitrovyo?"

My thought balloon, "What?! Where?! Mikrobyo?"

Barker pauses then replies, "Metro View?"

Lady answers in the affirmative, "Oo, metrovyo."


If you want to know your way around the metropolis, ask a jeepney barker/conductor. He keeps in his head the landmarks in his route, fare rates and the destination of each passenger. And more importantly, he keeps in his heart trust, sensitivity and a good sense of humor.

Posted by meetjopeblack at 05:32 PM | mix me my whey

June 22nd, 2007

magic word

I was tired from driving the whole day. I made a three-hour drive to Batangas to give a two-hour talk in SBC and drove back to Manila immediately after. I had to surrender the wheels to Cathy on the way home. I am close to shaking from fatigue.

The housemaid wasn't there to open the gate for us--what luck! I literally had to drag myself off the passenger's seat and walk to the gate so Cathy can park the car. (You see, we don't have a key to our own gate yet, we have to pass through the adjacent house to get to ours.)

Walking towards our part of the compound, I heard shouts and splashes at the pool side. "Not today," I told myself. "This is not a good day to be disturbed by kids," my innards were complaining.

True enough, they were playing ball at the pool that late in the evening. But through the noise, I heard one word which calmed me down: "Kuya!" greeted my brusque brother-in-law. That really pacified the howling inside of me. Being the youngest, never was I called kuya. It's sweet especially from someone so crabby.

When we've parked, R and his friends toweled off and packed their things for home. We bumped into each other and in the dim of dusk, he again greeted me with the day's magic word. It got me soft and I was tempted to ask him if they had dinner yet.

I held myself back.

That is pushing things too far to an adolescent. One gentlemanly behavior doesn't automatically ask for a mushy reciprocation. A kind word is enough and that's all, that's it.   We're cool with our peaceful co-existence.

Posted by meetjopeblack at 08:06 PM | mix me my whey