Mayo katorse, bukod sa sure akong papasok ako dahil may trabaho kailangan ko rin umuwi sa malayong probinsya ng Bulacan para bomoto.
Pero ang tanong para kanino ang labing dalawang boto ko na ilulukolok ko sa senado, pero hanggang ngayon, habang ginagawa ko ang blog na to lima pa lang ang sure na iboboto ko sa pagka-Senador sa local government naman still may doubt pa rin ako kung sino ilalagay ko sa balota.
Nakakatuwa lang isipin may mga taong kailangan ipamukha sa kapwa nila na dapat bomoto, mag mula sa ABS-CBN na dapat bantayan ng tao ang kanilang karapatan at boto kaya may Ipatrol mo ang Boto Mo campaign, ang Studio 23 ay may Y Vote mula sa 5 second campaign kasama ang kanilang mga artista hanggang sa malawakang kampanya sa Bonifacio Shrine at sa GMA na mini presentation ng iba’t ibang sektor ng lipunan sa kanilang Isang Boto. Yup media in all forms advocates all sectors, all walks of life and people with different principles in life pero ang tanong, Bobo ba sila o boboto sila sa Mayo katorse.
Tulad ko nag iisip din na kung boboto man ako paano ako makakasiguro na hindi isang bobong desisyon ang paglukluk ng isang taong inaakala ko na maglilingkod sa bayan ng tapat o sadyang ginawa lang na negosyo ang pagtakbo para kumita mula sa kaban ng bayan at ang tanging gagawin ay ipangalan sa lahat ng angkan niya ang mga kalye sa Metro Manila at mag pacute lang sa TV.
Minsan nakakawalang ganang pumunta sa botohan dahil sa napakabagal na sistema ng pagboto, dahil ibinasura ang computerized voting system dahil minaliit nila ang ilang kababayan na computer illiterate dahil sanay na daw ang mga Pinoy sa nagtataeng bolpen niya at sa kaparasong papel na mula sa napakaraming pinutol na puno sa kagubatan hanggang sa napakabagal na bilangan at mga dramahan ng mga pulitikong kesyo dinaya daw ang botohan kaya sila hindi nanalo at nagtatawag ng re-count.
Oo minsan nakakatamad nang bumoto dahil pag nanalo ba sila may pakialam pa ba sila sa atin, kakamayan pa ba nila tayo kung sakaling makasalubong nila tayo daan, makakasayaw pa ba sila ng kanilang mga jinggle o baka naman kagaya ng mga poster nilang pagkatapos maidikit sa dingding, napupunit ang alaala nila na minsan nangako sila sa tin, at kukupas ang kanilang mga paniniwalang itataguyod nila ang kapakanan ng mga bansa at nang taong bayan.
Nagiging idealistic na naman ako, nangangarap na naman ako na magiging maganda at maayos ang lahat. O sadyang naglalaro na naman ang isipan ko na kung ako ba ay boboto at sa huli isang bobong naniwala sa pangako ng iba.
For those who might be wondering if I practice what I seem to preach — yes, I walk the walk and talk the talk. I’ve been “free-ranging” like some urban chicken for the past 3 years, where basically I call the shots — I write and edit for a handful of overseas companies without even requiring me to leave the country, giving me total control of my work time and leisure time. And I also personally believe office cubicles are for animals, not humans. Think Fight Club. But enough about me. Just enjoy this list and maybe it hits you in the head, too.
An excerpt:
Getting a job is like enrolling in a human domestication program. You learn how to be a good pet.Look around you. Really look. What do you see? Are these the surroundings of a free human being? Or are you living in a cage for unconscious animals? Have you fallen in love with the color beige?
How’s your obedience training coming along? Does your master reward your good behavior? Do you get disciplined if you fail to obey your master’s commands?
Is there any spark of free will left inside you? Or has your conditioning made you a pet for life?
Humans are not meant to be raised in cages. You poor thing…
I’m pasting this article, from last Sunday’s issue of the Sunday Inquirer Magazine, only because somewhere my name is mentioned. Apart from my sheer egoism and the article’s potent swelling effect on my beautiful cojones, I’m sharing this because I’m being strangely drawn into writing fantasy/sci-fi/speculative kind of fiction these days, and it greatly helps when someone who knows what he says recognizes something that I could only barely see in myself.
As an aside, Ruel De Vera and his gang published one of my poems (fortunately the one that didn’t suck — and that’s rare!) in 1999 on the now defunct Pen And Ink. Hey, I think I should email the guy and ask about my 8-year-old cheque!
MANILA, Philippines - As far as Dean Francis Alfar is concerned, Filipinos dream just as potently as any other race, especially when it comes to worlds and realms beyond our own. The much-bemedalled writer (nine Palanca Awards and counting) is easily the alpha writer in the kingdom of speculative fiction.
“Speculative fiction is the term used to describe the literature of the fantastic,” he explains. “Its roots are in the science fiction genre, when it was first used to describe stories that were premised on the idea of ‘What if?’ As time progressed, it became an umbrella term for stories of the non-realist genres, which includes fantasy, science fiction and horror as well as fabulist, magical realist and interstitial stories. For the purpose of generating interest in the literature of the fantastic, I’ve adopted this term to encompass the stories of the Filipino imagination, as opposed to stories that use the methods of social realism and domestic realism.”
Because teachers have tended to favor realism, Alfar says that it’s very common for people to view speculative fiction as being kid’s stuff. “There are many different types of stories, and none should be more privileged than the others,” he says. “Speculative fiction celebrates the Filipino imagination and goes beyond mere escapism. The literature of the fantastic is just as capable of exploring and exposing the human condition.”
Now, it is a matter of getting more people into reading and writing spec fic, and Alfar admits it’s a relatively young genre. “Children’s literature aside, I would consider Greg Brilliantes as one of the earliest, if not the earliest, writers of what we now consider speculative fiction, particularly with his ‘The Apollo Centennial,’” he says.
“Good examples among the older writers are Alfred A. Yuson, for his novel ‘Great Philippine Jungle Energy Cafe’ and his short story ‘The Music Child,’ as well as Rosario Cruz Lucero’s short stories. But the majority of Filipino speculative fiction is new and written by younger authors.”
It’s the rise of many of those young readers, and writers, that’s given speculative fiction an opportunity for ascent. “They are more open to the collapsing of genre boundaries than their elders ever will be. This generation sees the intrinsic value of fantasy and the liberating power of science fiction,” Alfar notes.
Alfar has walked the walk as well. A collection of his own spec fic stories, “The Kite of Stars and Other Stories,” is due from Anvil Publishing later this year. But he has gone beyond that. Alfar has edited and published, through his Kestrel IMC, the country’s first anthology of speculative fiction. “I believed that writers, if given an opportunity to write and publish these kinds of stories, would do so,” he explains. “So I sounded a call on my blog and was happy with the results.”
In fact, “Philippine Speculative Fiction Vol. 2″ was launched just last December. For this book, Alfar says he received more stories than for the inaugural volume, some coming from all over the nation and even other countries, often from first-time authors. The third volume is in the works, hopefully before year’s end. Alfar identifies the following as writers of quality speculative fiction today: Ian Rosales Casocot, Kit Kwe, Cyan Abad-Jugo, Sarge Lacuesta, Luis Katigbak, Yvette Tan, Nikki Alfar, Pocholo Goitia, Kate Aton-Osias, Andrew Drilon, Vin Simbulan, Douglas Candano, Alex Osias, Karl de Mesa, Joseph Nacino and JB Lazarte, among others. He notes that a new generation of younger writers is emerging as well.
Alfar is very much encouraged by all that he sees. “It is a very exciting time for writers of speculative fiction. There are so many directions to go, stories to tell, scenarios to bring to life, and issues to tackle,” he says, pointing out that writers of spec fic can see such work published in venues such as Story Philippines, Philippines Free Press and the Digest of Philippine Genre Stories. And in a development perfectly in synch with the nature of spec fic, blogs and the Internet help expand the audience.
“All Filipino speculative fictionists need to learn how to infuse their stories with the culture of our imagination, which means being Filipino and, at the same time, surrendering that very same limiting notion, being more than Filipino, unleashing the Filipino of our imagination, divorcing and embracing the ideas of identity, nationhood and universality,” Alfar says of the next stage in the evolution of this uncharted territory. “We need to do magic.”
Dean Francis Alfar keeps a blog at deanalfar.blogspot.com. “Philippine Speculative Fiction Vol. 2″ is available at Fully Booked, Booktopia and A Different Bookstore.
One of my former bosses, a nice, well-respected Chinese businesswoman (who happens to be the daughter of one of the country’s leading tycoons), is looking for a part-time writer (the easy job involves going to the office half a day, everyday) who can work for 2 to 3 months beginning in June. Her daughter’s applying for admission to a US university, and the writer’s job is to do all the daughter’s correspondence and other written requirements related to her university application. Compensation can be negotiated between you and her mom.
If you think you’re cut for this really easy job, send me an email (jblazarte@gmail.com) and enclose your resume and some writing samples (preferably something that shows your proficiency in business correspondence).
One of the most familiar phrases people say here when you ask them how they are is “Eto” (here) or “Buhay pa” (still alive). Never has it had more meaning than in recent weeks here as we recover from one of the worst typhoons to hit the Philippines in decades.
I have written much in my blog lately - mostly because I’ve been busy, sometimes because I just don’t know what to say anymore. When Typhoon Reming struck us on Nov. 30, 2006, hitting Legaspi (my new home) dead center, we all experienced a brush with serious injury, if not death. For a few minutes there, as the flood waters rushed inside my little apartment on Marquez Street, I wondered, ‘Is this the way it’s going to be?’ I’ll drown right here inside my tiny apartment far away from my family and friends?
She didn’t die in that flood, but it’s still terrible because after too much ado, she still went that way, in her own musing, “far away from my family and friends?”
Here are some links of some write-ups/interviews she left online, from GMA TV.
Campbell was a former journalist who decided in 2005 to join the Peace Corps. As she put it in her blog, Julia in the Philippines: “At the age of 38, I decided to step out of the rat race of New York, join the Peace Corps and board a plane for Manila. This blog is dedicated to my adventures in the Philippines for the next two years. Wish me luck.”
Campbell worked in various publications, among them the St. Petersburg (Florida) Times, People Magazine, Star Magazine, FoxNEWS.com, ABCNews.com, and CourtTVNews.com.
While an editor for CourtTVNews.com, Campbell was interviewed as among those who witnessed the September 11, 2001, attack on the World Trade Center. A transcript of that interview is posted at www.courttv.com.
Ironically, it was also with the same outfit that Campbell wrote, among other staffers, about the mysterious disappearance of a California woman, Chandra Levy, a case in which California Rep. Gary Condit was implicated for allegedly having an intimate relationship with the missing woman. The story is titled Condit lawyer speaks from experience.
Here’s the latest video tribute to Weng Weng, as found on Boing Boing. I didn’t know this guy was a global phenomenon, even inspiring some rap group to compose this “special” tribute song.
The news of his death halted me to continue Lolita.Kurt Vonnegut (November 11, 1922 – April 11, 2007), the man who gave life Kilgore Trout, died from suffering brain injuries after a fall at his home in Manhattan.
I have been working this article since his death, started writing as requiem for the man who wrote novels just for indulgence to Planet Tralmafador. No, requiem isn’t the right word. Maybe it’s an elegy for the comic writer who farted in his writings. Or maybe to pay my last respect to the black humorist who thought me the beauty of war and human frailty. I don’t know. I am no death vulture. Besides, dude, I am just a groupie with a cute ass trying to call himself a lover of his crappy novels. But Vonnegut is different.
One, Vonnegut is a writer. Two, he is one of my God Poet. And so on.
I used to snatch his books from the musty corners in Recto along with the other authors I care to read. I am his kid, dude. I can feel his fusty books, as Jedi feeling the force, rotting like hell in dingy corners in Recto or book stalls. I remember I bought Slaughterhouse Five for only 30 pesos (Oh, the book reminds me of a luscious dream). I chose Breakfast of Champion instead of Leo Tolstoy’s The Death of Ivan Ilyich. I finished Slapstick in just a night contemplating every word of it in our bathroom enough to suffocate me from the smoke of Lucky Strike, the night I lingered the scent of my Ice Princess (Ha-ha, I can still remember what song I played while reading the book). Some of his novels I read are HTML files downloaded directly from IRC chat-room.
I thought the only thing that could stop the motor of the world is writer’s death. I am wrong. It saddened me that the world is still changing; the camera of life is still rolling, spinning its beauty in dismal vogue. The world seems doesn’t change at all. His death is just an ordinary day in a pixilated world obsessed with info-porn. No the same funeral fashion like what happened to Jean Paul Sartre funeral march. I am not kid who feel sad over the death of his kitty, but frankly speaking, dude, I haven’t got laid since his death.
Perhaps I’m just vain. Looking for something to write, something he can call himself a grand thing. And Vonnegut is the perfect character, a god in cage whom I can play with. A writer’s death is someone’s vanity. So why am I writing this piece? To borrow from Breakfast of Champion: “Because I felt like it, you stupid machine,” The Man said to the bear.
Kilgore Trout summed up our masquerade and what we really are in The Man’s tombstone: Not even the creator of the universe knew what the man was going to say next. Perhaps the man was a better universe in its infancy. Don’t ask me its meaning, dude, I don’t understand either.
I sure will read all his books again, as if reading like a kid for the first time, skimming with awes on its theme and style of episodic non-sequitur stories. Playing with The Postal Service’s Iron and Wine, I wonder how much yosi I can consume reading Sirens of the Titan.
I’m not sad. My only regret is that I never had the chance to thank him.
May sinabi si Begbie sa Trainspotting na hindi ko makalimutan: Shag her senseless. Naisip ko ito habang nagmumuni-muni ako at limang oras na tulalang nakahiga sa kalawakan. Inisip ko kung ano nga ba ang ginagawa ko noong bente uno años (bente-siyete años na ako) pa lang ako. Katulad din ng mga karakter sa pelikula, walang habas akong tumakbo, walang pakialam sa mga sasakyang naghahabol ng kani-kanilang kamatayan. Noon ako ang diyos sa kalye ng Pitong Gatang.
Noong mga panahong iyon ay sinabi kong gusto kong magsulat, noong pakiramdam ko maangas ako at kaya kong angasan ang takbo ng realidad na umiikot sa lungsod ng lata ng sardinas.
Itinuturing ko ang aking sarili na isang manunulat (pagbigyan niyo na ko, pwede ba?) na naligaw sa pagnanais na makita ang sarili dito sa lungsod ng lata ng sardinas. Ang manunulat at ang kanyang musa. Masarap pakinggan. Ang manunulat at si Kristine Hermosa habang nakikipagtalik sa loob ng lata ng sardinas. Yihaaa! Nakakalibog, nakakauhaw. Ang manunulat at ang kanyang butas na sikmura, walang trabaho, walang pera, malibog ngunit walang syota. Hola hop! Dude, may yosi ka ba diyan, pa-puff na lang.
Maraming dahilan kung bakit ninais ko na mahanap ang aking sarili. Isa na rito ang kadahilanang isa lamang akong bata na naniniwala na ang daigdig sa loob ng lata ng sardinas ay maraming mahika, magagandang hiwaga, mga kuwento na hahabiin sa makapal na sapot ng realidad.
Noon kahit pudpod na ang aking sapatos damang dama ko parin ang pagnanais na magsulat. Alam kong maraming tae ng aso at pusa sa kalye na aking dinaraanan ngunit sige ka pa rin sa paghahabi ng mga salita, itinuring kong imahinasyon ang bawat eskinitang aking dinaraanan. Hindi ako nag-alangan. Naging mapangahas sa inaakala kong bawat posibilidad na pwedeng mangyari sa aking pupuntahan. Wala akong alam pero sige pa rin sa pagkambiyo ng aking ballpen.
Ito nga siguro ang problema: wala akong alam. Wala akong makita dahil nasa loob lamang ako ng lata ng sardinas. Iniisip ko kung ang pagrereblede ba ay isang estado ng aking kabataan o isang realidad sa mundo ng mga lata ng sardinas. Naalala ko ang mga taong nakasalumuha ko dati sa Luneta. Ang mga taong nakikita ko lamang tuwing Sabado ng gabi. Lahat kami ay may salaysay ng pagrerebelde, nang kakulangan na kailangan naming punan kahit matulog kami sa damuhan gamit ang tigsa-sampung piso na sako. Pakiramdam ko noon isang napakalaking kabalintunaan ang magsumiksik sa masikip na lata ng sardinas. “Wala akong problema, ang mundo sa akin ang may problema,” ito dati lagi ang turan ko sa aking kaibigan.
Sa paglipas ng taon, nagbabago ang mundo, ang tao, limalawak ang bilog na aking nilalakaran, kailangan kong sumabit at magmadali dahil hindi ako nito hihintayin. Nalaman kong hindi pala ako pwedeng maging maangas habang-buhay. Pinili kong magsulat kaso napagtanto kong hindi ako sasagutin ni Kristine Hermosa sa pinakbet kong mga salaysay o makaka-one-night-stand si Sam Milby kahit gamitin ko pang ballpen bilang panulat ang talong. Isang realidad na kailangan kong maresolba. Iniisip ko kung ang solusyon ba ng problema ay ang pagpasok bilang factory worker sa pabrika ng mga lata ng sardinas.
Isa sa mga eksena na gustong-gusto ko sa Trainspotting ay noong makilala ni Renton si Diane sa isang bar. Nalaman niyang may kulang pala sa kanyang buhay na kailangan niyang punan. Iyon ang nagsilbing inertia ng kanyang buhay. (Nyaaah! Babae na naman!?) Sa dulo ng pelikula, Oo ang naging sagot ni Renton sa tanong ng Buhay. Isang sagot na ilan ba sa atin ang may tapang na sabihin?
Tuwing tinatanog ng pamilya ko kung ano nga ba ang balak kong gawin sa aking buhay natutukso akong ituran:
Thanks to everyone for making this site a richer and richer online hangout. I can’t tell you more how overcome I am of gratitude for your sharing through this site your intellectual, literary, or media-related thoughts and views and for letting everybody know what fine class of people Adamsonians really are.
But I’d just like to remind everyone that we do have some blogging guidelines handed down to us by Moses himself, so it would be for the best interest of this site if we’d observe and follow these blogging rules as we follow whatever our good mothers tell us.
Again, thanks, and I hope we’d see more exciting posts in the future.
Send your tips, comments, suggestions to:
magnus@adamsonian.com
Donate to Adamsonian
Feel free to donate any amount so we can buy a 150cc all-terrain vehicle and a Boyoyong clown that we can use to promote this site around campus.
Live Chat
Latest Message5 days, 3 hours
stiban_graffiti : Sino ba yang ADMI na iyan? Kung estudyante ka, alam mo ba na mas masahol ka pa sa mga Makapili. or Kung admin ka man, nakakatawa ka. Nawalan tuloy ako ng ganang umebs.
admi : kasi kung sana nag complaint ka ng harapan hindi sa ganitong paraan para hindi na naman naghahasik ng magic at lagim si astorga. History is repeating again and again
eCe_spy : hahaha di naman admi hitting below the belt lang.. thats why..
admi : nagsusumbong ka ece_spy, hahaha
eCe_spy : Naming names? How come.. Tsktsk sir JB cud you please clean this mess..
Rastafariana : Anybody home?
schrondingeristhec : HUH?
admi : ece_spy is fcc
invaderzim : si captain america ba yun?
invaderzim : hahahahha...
admi : kaya si ece_spy hulugan muna
invaderzim : wow!nireveal na yung ibang superheroes!
admi : onlooker si Mr. joshua Tadena
admi : sigbin is Mr. Allan Camacho
admi : ece_boses is Mr. Ralph Corsiga
rowie0123 : ano ba itsura ng unoform ng it sa school natin ? 1st year ako sa pasukan .. ndi pa nabibigay uniform ko .. huhuh' di ko din alam kung anung itsura ng uniform na bibilhin ko ..
rnarcise : panu ba ma view ung blog... i'm just intrigued..kaso na blocked na ata ung post
macintyre13 : hello dyan
batongbuhay : panu b mgpost d2?
domeepogee : panu ba maglog-out dito? panu ba icancel yung registration ko?
KoKaK : nga pla,,,pag naiwan nu id nu kuha lng ako ng affidavit of loss kesa violation slip,,,gud 4 one day n un-disposable
KoKaK : jhopet kilala m c ece.boldstar?...mmmmmmm
KoKaK : anu bang password ang hinahanap pag view nun blog?...d ko n ma-access ei nakiki-internet lng aku
KoKaK : kaw ece k din man db?.....klala ko n c superklasse at c exe spy
KoKaK : uu bakit?
KoKaK : pooch! nabababoy n ang site...nagiging online n TIKTIK at BOMBA n ang mga nakapost. Mag journaism alang ka sila?...aahahahaha
jhopet : ece k ba kokak??
jhopet : panu mu nalaman kokak??
KoKaK : kilala n nila ang katauan ko...waahahahah
KoKaK : anu latest?
LAGOTka : please
LAGOTka : ece_spy
LAGOTka : ece stud aq.. and gs2 q mabasa un..
LAGOTka : please
LAGOTka : This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below. --> YOUR??? e bakit nung inenter q na ayaw pa din..
LAGOTka : eCe_spy.. please
LAGOTka : ung password penege naman
LAGOTka : bakit di ko maview ung THE PROFESSOR's MAGIC.. help please
handsome_gniw : penge naman ng password sa "the professors magic"
sygryd : to eCe_spy..ece din ako.naiintriga ako sa post mo(The professor's magic)..parang kilala ko yun..
invaderzim : ngayon hinahanapan sya ng guard ng identification or whatso ever(hahah,hello? nasunugan nga?)ayaw tlga xang papasukin ng guard.tae talga nalulungkot ako dhil sa ganun magisip yung,sobrang sumusunod xa sa rule na parang hndi na nya ginagamit ang isip nya.iniinsist paren nya yung identification or any credentials,at wla talgang maipkita ang kawawang studnt.haaayyy..kakalungkot
invaderzim : hahah oo,tlgang hndi mo rin maiwasan yung mga stupid moments with the guards. maikwento ko lang.once naiwan ko ang i.d ko.so wla akong choice kundi kumuha ng violation slip.tas may nakasabay akong stud. (nakacvilian,during uniform days) balak nyang magp-asa ng letter to excuse/inform the school bout sa gagwin nyang absences,dahil sa natupok ng apoy ang bahay nila(daw)so wla xang ibang dala kundi kapirasong papel
asia : you wudn't beieve me, nahihirapan aq pumasok sa gate dhil sa mga bwct na guard na yan. once i am inside the campus, ndi na aq pwd lumabas unless uuwi na aq. otherwise, habulan ulit kmi ng guard coz of my dress code... arte..
asia : hahaha... ganyan din ang feeling q nun. after my formal exit, and after years passed by... i found out that i am starting to miss adamson
asia : to: invaderzim
invaderzim : kamuzta ang adu?ayun.bawal ang cd players pero pwede ang mp3 players.bawal ang camera at video cam pero pwede ang mga mobilefone na may ganun.naka wi-fi na ang ST quad pero kelangn mo paring ikuha ng permit ang laptop mo.nakkabadtrip paren madalas ang mga guard.at higit sa lahat andum paren yung mga punggok na poste sa st gate na wala namng silbe.