My Gramp's an actor

By George, I thought he was Clint Eastwood!

Okay, lemme tell you a few things about this old hag who really looked like that Hollywood film director (and actor) of The Bridges of Madison County, Million Dollar Baby, and Gran Torino. I call him Lolo.

First off, he's my Mom's Tatay. Second off, he's such a badass grandpa that most of my recollections of him are his sentence enhancers (I mean, the swears) and endless capers.

Lolo Tirez and my grandma had an arranged marriage when they were teens! Wow. He went through the Japanese occupation alive though he didn't get to finish his studies because of the economic and social turmoil. But mind you, Lolo has always been the man who finds ways. Such tactic he has! You know those characters in films who need only sniff the air to know when a storm's coming? He's like that! Really street-smart.

Recently, I've just watched Trouble with the Curve starring, of course, Clint Eastwood and Amy Adams. It's a movie about relationship (Trivia: Most of Clint's films are!). Father-daughter, to be exact. Sometimes, kids don't understand why their parents did what they did until they're mature enough. Gramp and Grandma bore 8 kids and the rest is history. I don't know everything but when I tried to put the bits and pieces together, I reckoned that as the years passed, Lolo and Lola eventually grew apart.

Last summer, when I saw him, he has changed a lot physically. He got thinner and looked pale and sick. But his spirit was still the same! My old hag can still swear "God demmit!" :')

He confided that he wants to go home but he and Grandma are still on LQ mode (gosh) although I still believe they love each other. Dad and I insisted to walk him to his house but, of course, he's proud and stubborn. But we're more stubborn! Before we left his abode, the last words I told him were "Lo, tama na yang inom ah." Then I hugged him, never knowing that'd be the last time I'd see him alive.

This December 23, we received the sad news of his passing. We can't believe it. How can we? It's so, so unexpected. And it's almost Christmas Eve! Somehow I feel like Lolo had just waited for December 21 to be over so he can say "I survived the 'end of the world' you bastards!"

He swears a lot, yes. He is stubborn, yes. But he's also a survivor. He has natural humor. His smirk resembles that of Clint Eastwood. And he's my one and only badass Lolo!

I heard Mom telling her siblings over the phone, "Bring him home." It rips my heart to hear her cry and it's more painful to finally realize that there'd be no more Lolo Tirez to visit, to speak and joke with, to eat star apple with, to cheer for as he climbs a coconut tree to get me some dessert, to sing with during reunions, and to embrace before going back to Manila. :'(

I know he is with God now. But his restless and playful soul will definitely storm the peaceful place above with laughter! May God bless his soul.

Lo, no swearing in Heaven, okay?


*I do not own the photo used in this blog. No intention of copyright infringement.

It's the end of the world and we know it!

Today is Thursday, 20th day of December 2012.

Tomorrow, they say, would be the End of the World.

First things first. I don't believe this is my last night. However, I must admit that after I've watched the movie Seeking a Friend for the End of the World, I was disturbed. Why? Because I was kinda hopeful that the expected plot would change— but true to its premise, everyone would just die in the end!

These predictions I've been hearing lately got me pretty tensed! For I know this time, there'd be no arc. Should this doomsday really happen, we'd all be passengers of the Titanic!

Everyone's sort of "confessing" online. Fun stuff! :) But I do feel the tinge of seriousness (or bitterness) in most of my friends' posts (and mine, hehe). Well, it's not bad to tell the truth (or half-truth).

I remember before, the public was so troubled with the coming of the Millenium. You see, that was 12 years ago! And now, they say that since the Mayan calendar will end on December 21, this would mean an end to us all. Before we go into that, haven't we asked, would it not just mean an end to a cycle? So definitely, there'd be another cycle!

Either it's the end of the world or not, I think it's high time that we reflect on our present thoughts and previous actions. Are we living our lives right? Or are we just merely surviving?

Why is it that we always wait for something extreme to happen before we realize that we haven't done enough yet? We like those last-minute confessions. And I'm guilty of that.

Have you shared enough love? Have you showed enough care? Have you given enough time? Whichever your case is, I hope you make the effort to go beyond "enough."

Let's give this moment of contemplation to ourselves. It's never too late. God only knows everything and I am holding on to that.

Now here's a fact: It's really the "end of the world" once you've stopped living your purpose.

P.S. It's 5 days to CHRISTmas! And we'll all be fine. :)


*I do not own the photos used in this blog. No intention of copyright infringement.

Jingle Bell Rock

It's the season to rock our nights away! Sharing this cool Christmas Carol from the Canadian indie band WALK OFF THE EARTH. Enjoy!

Eating Fire and Drinking Water

Arlene Chai begins Eating Fire and Drinking Water by giving her readers a hint on who Clara Perez is:

 "I was someone hungry for stories; more specifically, I was someone who craved after facts. It is easy now to see where this hunger came from and how it determined my choice of profession. I was, you see, at the start of this tale, a person with no history. I had no story of my own."

By just reading the protagonist's thoughts, we get the idea that Clara’s past is unclear. She is an orphan-turned-journalist who reports on the "usual" fire and police stories. Her character is very much similar to the primetime drama series on television: A girl who’s at lost in her world, searching for identity, trying to connect the dots of her past.

In this book, Chai weaves the threads of Philippine (with a mix of Chinese) culture, politics, religion, familial ties, and supernatural stories into one tapestry. 

Arlene Chai is a Filipino-Chinese writer who migrated to Australia during the Marcos administration. Abroad, she wrote more oriental stories that became bestsellers like The Last Time I Saw Mother. It is understandable that Chai is writing from a point of her own historical reference and that her displacement has not decreased her Philippine flavour in writing. 

Eating Fire is full of "Chinese Talk" or tales of interest ranging from the ordinary rumors to the most bizarre stories seen in the red stone of power passed through generations.

The personal stories of Clara’s kin were put against political events like the First Quarter Storm. By doing this, Chai was able to translate into words the traumatic experiences of our people in those times. She was also able to highlight the significance of student activism in the persons of Luis Bayani and Laslo Jimenez. 

Likewise, the book portrayed the brutal treatments executed by the deadly hands of some eccentric powerful men like Colonel Santiago Aure who believes that killing is an art. Aure can be compared to Colonel Amor in Rosca’s State of War who prefers "to fuck the soul." Eating Fire was set in such a milieu where there was an extreme clash between good and evil.

Meanwhile, Clara’s search for her personal history is rightly connected with the national history of the Philippines. It is obvious how Chai is trying to equate the quest of her characters with the national identity of the nation seeking freedom and genuine democracy.

I'd like to share Stuart Hall’s take on identity:

"Identities are made within the discourses of history and culture and are therefore not an essence but a positioning. Identity is a matter of 'becoming' as well as of 'being'— It belongs to the future as much as to the past."

Just like Clara, our people who went into a state of oppression are in need of connection and recognition. That being part of a society who struggles to better itself is far better than being associated with nothing at all. Clara, who earlier writes stories of other people, became her own story. We could only say that there really is a tapestry where every person's story is interwoven. 

Truth: There is a plan behind everything that happens.

Stainless Longganisa

Tulad ni Bob Ong, akala ko rin langgonisa ang tawag sa "longganisa" until mabasa ko ang libro niya tungkol sa pagsusulat.

Paninindigan kong informal ang blog na ito dahil iyon din naman ang style na ginamit sa libro. Papakahirap pa ba 'ko?

Ang Stainless Longganisa ang pangatlong likha ni Bob Ong na nabasa ko. Una yung MacArthur na tungkol sa mga magkakaibigang sabaw ang mga pangarap; pangalawa naman Ang mga Kaibigan ni Mama Susan na naimbyerna lang ako dahil matakutin akong tao.

Kabibili ko lang ng Stainless nung Sabado kasi nabanggit ng kaibigan kong si Rossielle na tungkol daw ito sa pagsusulat. Sakto naman dahil medyo pinapatos ko ngayon ang mga ganitong klase ng babasahin. Inaatake na naman ata ako ng frustration.

Matagal-tagal ko na ring di nabasa si Bob Ong. Nung una kong buksan ang MacArthur, tawa ako nang tawa. Marahil ay noon lang ako nakapagbasa ng balbal na libro. Sabi ko, astig 'tong writer na 'to! Subalit noong isang araw, parang na-disappoint ako sa Stainless. Mapakla yata ang banat; parang hindi na ko nasasabik o nagugulat sa mga sinasabi ni Bob. Epekto ba 'to ng katandaan na hindi na gumagana sa 'kin ang style niya o sadyang nagagaguhan na 'ko sa kanya ngayon at hindi ko yun napansin noon? Pwede ring bad vibes lang talaga ako.

Hindi ko masabi. Pero pinilit kong tapusin ang libro. Sayang ang 150 ah! Nung kalagitnaan na, unti-unting tumatalab ang magic ni Bob Ong. Ayan na naman, bigla na lang akong natatawa sa mga anecdotes niya on writing. Lalo na yung part na gusto niyang magmakaawa na bilhin naman yung libro niya. Pati noong nagpakalbo siya at bigla siyang binigyan ng nanay niya ng 200 pesos na tipong sinusuhulan ang katinuan niya.

Ang pinakagusto kong bahagi ng Stainless ay yung pagpapahalaga ni Bob Ong sa ibang writers at yung pagiging totoo niya sa sarili. Oo nga, wala namang taong perpekto pero mortal sin na talaga yung wala kang gawin para tuparin ang pangarap mo. Gusto mong maging writer? Simulan mo nang magsulat!

Lahat naman ng tao, parating may sasabihin. Maganda man o hindi ang marinig mo sa kanila, tumuloy ka pa rin sa plano mo. Kung ano ang talentong ibinigay, hasain mo lang nang hasain.

Sabi nga ni Bob:

"Ang importante meron kang mga mambabasang nabibigyan ng inspirasyon sa mundo. Magsulat ka para sa kanila, hindi para sa mga kritiko."

Humihingi ako ng dispensa kay pareng Bob kung nadamay siya sa pagiging BV ko. Mali kasi ako nung mag-expect akong instant tawa na naman ang makukuha pag binuklat ko ang libro niya. Pero natawa naman din talaga ko sa bandang huli. Baka sad lang talaga ako lately kaya ganito 'ko, naghahanap ng aliw!

Anyway balik sa Stainless, hindi lahat ng sinasabi ng libro o ng ibang tao, lulunukin natin. May utak tayo para i-proseso kung makabubuti ba ito o hindi. Ang mahalaga naman talaga ay hindi ang opinyon ng kung sinong Poncio Pilato yan kundi ang kung ano talaga ang sigaw ng puso mo. Yak, cheesy!

Kung tulad ni Bob Ong, kelangan mo rin ng basurahan sa nagtatae mong ballpen, wag mong pigilan ang tinta, ikaw lang din ang madudumihan. Sumulat ka lang. Maging ikaw man ang maging sarili mong kontradiksyon sa huli, eh ano naman?

Tumatanda tayo at mas nakikilala natin ang sarili habang tumatagal. Mas naitatama rin natin ang mga pagkakamali. Malay ko bang longganisa pala yun!

Frankie baby

Last night, I unzipped my early Christmas gift from Dad: a Lumanog guitar! Yeeey!!

I've been meaning to have this since last month and I so love it already! My fingers are hurting right now but I won't stop 'til I can play like a boss. :)

Welcome home, FRANKIE!

The Fault in Our Stars

Everytime I'd hear Rihanna singing, "We found love in a hopeless place..." I'm reminded of John Green's melancholic and humorous novel, The Fault in Our Stars.

It was sadly "hopeless" in the sense that our protagonists know they aren't gonna live for long and that they cannot do anything about it. Our star-crossed lovers Hazel Grace Lancaster, a sixteen-year old thyroid cancer patient and Augustus "Gus" Waters, a seventeen-year old amputee, are clearly aware that one of their feet is already in the grave.

Hazel Grace doesn't really socialize with other teens and she is usually forced to attend the support group where other cancer patients and survivors are sharing words of encouragement. For Hazel, this routine is even more depressing. She'd rather stay at home, watch America's Next Top Model marathon, and read "The Imperial Affliction" over and over again. The support group might be the unlikely place to find Mr. Right but Hazel Grace found Gus in that place she hates.

The title of the book was inspired by the famous line thrown by Cassius in the play Julius Caesar written by Will Shakespeare. It goes like this: "The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings."

What would you do if you are caught in that very limited space between life and death?

For Hazel and Gus, they'd just live their dreams! With all the cancer perks (as they call it), they'd fly into places real and surreal. Aware but not minding that time is running out fast. One of them can "game-over" all of a sudden.

In death, we write eulogies for the departed. But what is the use of those kind words and praises if the person's already gone? The dead won't hear it. Neither would he cry on that heartfelt message nor laugh at the fun mockery. Nothing from the dead.

But I'd like to give John Green a shout-out for reminding us that there is always a way to show love!

It's never too late to say "I love you" or "I'm sorry" or "Thank you." No matter how hopeless it may seem, there is still something sunny that comes along! Everyday may not be good but there is definitely something good in every day.

Even if we don't become heroes before we die or even if we do (in our own ways), what makes the period of living on earth worthwhile is to know that we matter to a life of, at least, one person. 

The Fault in Our Stars is not about cancer. Hazel is not her cancer; Gus is not his, either.

The Fault in Our Stars is about an eccentric girl and an aggrandizing bastard who found true and electric love in a hopeless place— that "infinite" space between life and death.

Read it, okay?


*I do not own the image used in this blog. No intention of copyright infringement.

7 tips for the hopeless

Is your life stuck in a rut?

Say, it's your graduation, the moment when everybody's feeling triumphant and all. But the euphoria dies as soon as you face the reality that you are in need of a job. But what if your hopes are turned down either 'cause you're not the right person or just too overqualified for the work? Now you're beginning to feel helpless, and hopeless. Boy, you are a legit student in the College of Bummership.

So what do you do when you have nowhere else to go (for now)? Here are some brilliant suggestions:

1. Sleep more. You'd be less of a bother at home. Plus, you get to shorten the time worrying where your life should be heading.



2. Eat less. Just imagine if you have too much eating and less doing. Surely, you would regret falling in love with food. In addition, your mother won’t accuse you as palamunin but nonetheless, you still are.



3. Take a bath. In case you don’t do this on a regular basis, you should try this one out to wash the blues away.



4. Go out and plant a tree. Need I say more?

5. Talk to strangers. Your friends may not be the best pals to chat with ‘cause they’re all living THE life now. Trust me, you might hurt yourself. Try logging on SharedTalk where decent strangers exist. Be careful though. Or maybe start a conversation with your neighbor who has always been a stranger in the most part of your life.

6. Write. Even though you think you are an awful writer like me, just do it! It’s a good release.

7. If all of these don’t work, suicide! just PUSH! Pray Until Something Happens.

Now move your arse and get out of that rut!


*I do not own the photos used in this blog. No intention of copyright infringement.

Where art thou, Mr. Right?

Ladies, are you tired of waiting for Mr. Right?

I’m pretty sure that you’ve heard more than enough advice from the experts. They always tell you to wait and stop trying so hard searching for the right guy. I remember an SMS before that says: 

Love is like a butterfly. If you go around chasing the butterfly, you will never catch it. But if you sit back and relax, the butterfly will come land right on your nose when you least expect it.

When did boys get associated with butterflies, anyway?

Say, you’ve been waiting for about 20 years to finally "feel that feeling."  You know the typical i’ll-know-it-if-he’s-the-one?  But seriously, can you go on waiting?

Can you still wait like this for another 20?? Kidding! Hey, but surely there were successful risk takers before you. Those who survived the challenge of waiting in vain. But let’s put it this way:

There are just some people who need not go out looking for Mr. Right because he’s already around. Other than that, there is what we call— EFFORT on your part.

Admit it or not, those who might have found their princes exposed themselves out there. They got out of their comfort zones. So don’t go nuts asking the heavens why Mr. Right has not yet arrived. If you hide yourself in a tower, would you expect someone to suspend his butt in mid-air just to climb that secluded place of yours? Yes, that's possible! But not all the time. Unless, destiny intervenes...

But you are not Rapunzel.

My two cents: Don’t be desperate looking for him. Keep on getting better. Be someone you would like to meet. And just be ready for THE DAY when you will bump into Mr. Right. You don't know what date it’ll happen so don’t tire yourself. Stay beautiful!

*I do not own the image used in this blog. No intention of copyright infringement.

State of War

Exiled activist and writer Ninotchka Rosca opens the State of War with a heightening festival in the Island of K. In here, she puts the characters Anna, Eliza, and Adrian in the crowd of dancing people chanting, "Hala bira! Hala bira!" With the chaotic and almost surreal atmosphere of the carnivalesque Ati-Atihan, Rosca has already established a certain sense of tension and conflict that would likely build up and explode in the final part called the Book of Revelation.

In The Book of Acts, we can consider the festival as a symbolic coming together of various classes in the society. Like in carnivals, everyone is given an equal opportunity to participate in the merrymaking. It is interesting to note that even the spectators and tourists are later on involved in the endless dancing and singing. Anna, for instance, although unfamiliar with the choreography, somehow found her own niche and felt like she was dancing the patterns of her life. Thus, it is implied that Rosca also wants her readers to get into the text and take hints against the obscure escalation of events.

Bakhtin as cited by Kettner (2011) defines carnivalization as "a feast of becoming, change, and renewal." In addition, Kettner reiterated that in carnivals, "the poor become kings and queens, rogues become princes and, therefore, the hierarchical structure of society is altered through laughter and mockery."

In the State of War, we can see that there is hardly a line that divides people in the Ati-Atihan. Soldiers and rebels alike drink and roam the streets, real ladies and transvestites with their ostentatious garbs join the dance, farmers dress like warriors, the rich and poor activists plan side by side, and visitors and natives make themselves dirty. In this carnivalesque scene, we see Kettner's notion that boundaries are dissolved. Thus, it could be regarded as a distinct feature that foretells a fast-approaching revolution where every player steps into a level playing field.

The novel's festival is dubbed as "the festival of memories" and "a singular evocation of victory in a country of too many defeats." Unlike other feasts, as one character observed, the Ati-Atihan that Eliza and her friends are currently witnessing breeds a sensation of insidious rebellion.

State of War is about a festivity owned by no one yet a carnival for everyone. The celebration became the meeting ground of our characters who happen to be related by blood yet fate refused it to be discovered. Only when these characters learn of their past will they be saved from committing the same mistakes again. The rebel Guevarra was right when he said that he will just keep on meeting the same people in this cycle of life because prior to being strangers, they are all akin.

Also in the book, children are heard singing, "Ferdinand Magellan, the crazy old coot; took five ships and circumcised the globe." Instead of circumnavigated, circumcised became the buzz word! The lines in the song somehow made sense because Magellan, driven by his ambition, really did try to circumcise the colonized lands and impose his ideal "cultured" ways to what he regarded as "native."

When you get to read the book, the story is not linear in structure (so it's quite hard to read) and is often interrupted by fantastic tales and historical episodes (see The Book of Numbers). State of War is told in a manner that usually confuses readers at first but we could take this style of complicated reading as a metaphor for the complex and ever-changing identities of our people through time. Hence, the carnivalization of our social system was fulfilled in the opening ceremony but it has also guided its readers into a redeeming end.

*I do not own the image used in this blog. No intention of copyright infringement.

Viajero

The novel Viajero by one of the finest writers in the country, F. Sionil Jose, is about the continuous search for identity not just by our displaced protagonist Salvador dela Raza, but also by the Filipino people. No wonder that until now, we are dubbed as the wandering Pinoys! For in every nook and corner of this earth, it is interesting to know that we can still find a Filipino even in the remotest place.

It is better to read the whole novel as a story of every Juan than just Salvador's. As we go along, we'd encounter its many narratives about different people from different times, and it is apparent how Salvador is trying to rewrite or recreate his own identity by translating these narratives in a way that would fit his missing parts. Through other people's accounts that serve as margins, he was able to draw a center for himself. In short, without the stories of other wanderers, Salvador would not be whole.

If we'd take a quick analysis, the name Salvador dela Raza can already give a sense of cultural mix. His name is that of Spanish, yet the man as we know him is a native from the Philippines who happens to be raised in the US. We can realize in here the disconcertingly astounding combination of different cultures that once colonized the Philippines.

Viajero gave us a picture of how the Philippines suffered from the hands of different colonizers or masters (including one of their own) throughout the generations. The greatest question would always be: Who would rule after the colonizers have gone? There is really no knowing. For like a wanderer’s fortune, there'd always be surprises in each quest.

To date, we could see how we are being transformed (better or worse) in our 300 years in the convent, 50 years or more in Hollywood, and the many years and counting in the world of smartphones and stupid people. Eventually, Filipinos would still be on the road to defining who they really are. Like the novel’s structure, life is not linear. There are interludes every once in a while. Therefore, it is likely to view life as a cycle. What to associate with this cycle depends on us: Shall we see this as a cycle of oppression or a cycle of self-discovery?

Salvador's struggle to find his identity goes with finding his purpose in life. He is not just to know of his beginnings but he is also to help his people in the land where he was born. Thus, he gradually begins to be part of a people that he was once apart from.

We can see a binary opposition in this book by looking at his intention to capture history when he returned to the Philippines; but it turned out to be otherwise. Salvador was eventually the one captured by history when he became witness to it. The presence and absence of Badong in his life is another one. For long, he had become the Buddy he was expected to be— an accomplished historian and a responsible son; yet in the end, the Badong that was suppressed in his memory for so many years came out— handing over stories to the youth and becoming a sympathetic son of his motherland.

Like the elusive crystals, we can only say so much of Salvador's thoughts. For in the end, the interpretation of either he has come full circle in his search or not lies on the readers. We could settle with the fact that the cycle of his discovery goes on and on; but we could also believe that Salvador finally found his peace in the mountains— by which we see the words of Ninoy fulfilled: "An exile really has no place, other than where his heart truly is."

Defy the stars

Blame not your soul in the past
Whose only fault was to love everlast'
Bonds unfolding in the present,
So mystic yet equally iridescent.
Spaces and faces, same or otherwise;
Look and see where the trouble or truth lies.
Make sense the scattered shards
Of olden tales and histories
Discern between right and wrong
Get caught not in thy own follies.
T'was a star-crossed connection
Demanding not to be fought for.
Just made to be felt and remembered
Something else, maybe more.
Defy the stars, they shall, but 'til when?
Conspire with the universe and see how it'd end.
If dreams are made to be seized not broken
If love is there to be shared but not taken
If life gets bitter and leaves you forsaken
Then, defy the stars, you shall,
And, Love, just let it happen.