Skip to main content

ENGLASH


SA iilang nakasubaybay sa aking web log, mas nakararami yata ang nais lang matuto ng wastong English… and I haven’t gone too far with such tongue, mostly it’s stuck sucking or lashing, lapping up labia juices—a tad tart but ambrosial, often prompts a piteous moan or prolonged whinnying-- or flicked in/out as a canny serpent does to palpate ambient air for nearly imperceptible yet subtle changes in the environs.

I haven’t told any of such avid initiates that all it takes to cobble sense and keen edge into an outburst is to go physical, yeah, something hands-on… hands are the cutting edge of the body-mind. Do… say. Do… say. Walk the walk, then, talk the walk.


Mainam na mauna ang pulos gawa, kasunod ng katiting na ngawa.

Para hindi tayo mapahiya o makasuhan ng unjustifiable theft of intellectual property or plagiarism.

‘Yung mga umareglo ng talumpati ni Manny V. Pangilinan na ipinagsabuyan sa mga katatapos sa kolehiyo? Gaya-gaya puto-maya. Talumpati ba ‘yun o talumpunay na ampat sa hika? Talumpati ba ‘yung talong na gaya-gaya, naging ihaw-ihaw, naging puki-puki?

‘Yung alalay ng pinuno ng Korte Supremang sinaksakan yata ng sampalangganang botox ang hilatsa, makakantiyawan pa na masahol sa tatlong patong ng concrete hollow blocks ang ihaharap na pagmumukha… can you expect sane judgment or argument-- maybe Clostridium botulinum extracts-- oozing therefrom?

Eh, ‘yung Michael Jackson na pinipilit kopyahin ang tabas ng pagmumukha ni Lady Diana ng England, malala ang sakit no’n kaya natigok.

‘Hirap kasi maging orig, ‘hirap maging irog.

Kahit naman sa mga mapapanood na teleserye, talagang kung saan-saan tinabas at pinagtagpi-tagpi ang ikid at usad ng walang kuwentang kuwento… aba’y lumilitaw na ang mga sintomas ng intellectual bankruptcy… naglalako na lang din ng DVD, DVD

Ganoon din ang diskarte nina Dr. Viktor Frankenstein at alalay na Igor, nanalasapsap—that’s Tagalog for “pillaged, looted”—ng samut-saring bahagi ng katawan ng iba’t ibang bangkay sa kung saan-saang libingan… para pagtagni-tagniin. Nakabuo naman ng tagpi-tagping nilalang… pero mismong ang lumikha ang narimarim sa kanyang nilikha.

‘Hirap talagang maging orig, lalong mahirap maging irog.

Malayo pa ang alumni grand reunion sa aming alma mater pero kahit sa ilang umpukan ng mga dating magkakaeskuwela, madalas akong kantiyawan—ayaw ko raw magpakopya.

Sa martial arts dojo, napahinuhod na magpakopya nga sa iba… pero pag dating sa mga pagsubok at salpukan, tilapon o timbuwang ang mga palakopya lang sa mga may binuo na sariling diskarte.

Now, I tell initiates that all it takes to cobble sense and keen edge into an outburst is to go physical, yeah, something hands-on… hands are the cutting edge of the body-mind. Do… say. Do… say. Walk the walk, then, talk the walk.

Comments

4464 said…
所有的資產,在不被諒解時,都成了負債..................................................................

Popular posts from this blog

Every single cell of my body's happy

I got this one from Carmelite Sisters from whose school three of my kids were graduated from. They have this snatch of a song that packs a fusion metal and liebeslaud beat and whose lyrics go like this:

"Every single cell of my body is happy. Every single cell of my body is well. I thank you, Lord. I feel so good. Every single cell of my body is well."

Biology-sharp nerds would readily agree with me in this digression... Over their lifetimes, cells are assaulted by a host of biological insults and injuries. The cells go through such ordeals as infection, trauma, extremes of temperature, exposure to toxins in the environment, and damage from metabolic processes-- this last item is often self-inflicted and includes a merry motley medley of smoking a deck a day of Philip Morris menthols, drinking currant-flavored vodka or suds, overindulgence in red meat or the choicest fat-marbled cuts of poultry and such carcass.

When the damage gets to a certain point, cells self-destruct. T…

KASI NANLABAN

Viagra au naturel

IT LOOKED eerie—a blaze of fireflies pulsing like stars in the nippy air, throbbing with mating passions. That show of lights somehow eased the shadows of a Holy Thursday night on a dry river bed a few kilometers trudge up Mount Makiling.

It’s likely that no river has lain in sleep for months on that moss-grown, boulder-strewn bed—except my 20-year old kid Kukudyu and I. We were out to spend the night, do on-site learning sessions by the next day. Usual father-and-son bonding. As the late Benjamin Franklin once begged: "Tell me and I forget. Teach me and I remember. Involve me and I learn."

Past noon from the foot of the mountain’s northern section, it took us four hours ploughing non-stop through prickly bushes and forest undergrowth to get to that site. We got there in one bruised piece. By then, dusk was falling; the sylvan air hummed with a trill of crickets, cicadas, critters nameless in choral orison. That incessant “sh-r-r-e-eemmm---“ layered with “k-kr-r-eeengg--” …