Skip to main content

Cauda draconis

TELL the tale in killer honest and dead earnest in one sitting… after this anyway, your head goes. Chopped off.

Ah, Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov’s “Scheherazade Suite” hammers out and away on the desktop’s sound-blasters, urgent in its recall how a sultan’s bride kept her head intact for a thousand and one nights— nearly three years—and how she kept a captive audience captivated each night with her fount of stories.

So you were asking how I hacked away through over 600 entries in various categories to come up with my winners in a nationwide writing competition for journalists…

One word: Scheherazade. Tell your story as if your life depended on it.

Too, we can throw in Aristotle’s counsel—“We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, therefore, is not an act but a habit.”

I guess that’s what writing, writing about life, and gleaning two-bit significance in life is all about.

Ah, that’s awfully useful yardstick… comes handy when an outfit, a foundation or government entity hales me as juror in competitions—art contests that leave my sights strained poring over sense in paintings… writing jousts, it’s quite easy to skim through every entry’s first 3-4 paragraphs… the truly outstanding grabs you by the throat or by the balls.

A news story is a story… might as well tell it in killer honest and dead earnest, grab a reader and squeeze. Hard. A soft approach lets whatever’s grabbed to slip.

The contest sponsor made this year’s work for jurors a lot easier. Why, they had the names of the writers tabbed on to their respective output… a by-line to a feature or news story offers a clue to the quality of the writing… and most of these by-lines have become hallmarks of shoddy, dull reportage… walang kalibog-libog.

See, Aristotle’s counsel fits like penile shaft into gushing nether gash—“We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, therefore, is not an act but a habit.”


And what about doing a Scheherazade? She was the daughter of a grand vizier to a cuckolded sultan who chewed thorough thoughts—natorotot —and turned up the practice of going through nuptials and a honeymoon with a new bride each day… and disposing her head the next day on the executioner’s chopping board… so graphically Freudian in its discourse on emasculation and castration.

Credit Scheherazade for weaving out an intricate tapestry of tales night after night after night… after getting wedded to such a ruthless groom…

The tales were downright engrossing—there’s an unexpurgated version in our library, the sexy, steamy narrative is intact.

Such wondrous story-telling, Scheherazade just kept it going and going… kept her head… sultan kept her kep

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

ALAMAT NG TAHONG

SAKBIBI ng agam-agam sa kalagayan ng butihing kabiyak-- at kabiyakan, opo-- na nakaratay sa karamdaman, ang pumalaot na mangingisda ay napagawi sa paanan ng dambuhalang Waczim-- isang bathala na nagkakaloob sa sinuman anumang ibulwak ng bibig mula sa bukal ng dibdib. Pangangailangan sa salapi na pambili ng gamot ng kapilas-pusong maysakit ang nakasaklot sa puso ng matandang mangingisda. 'Di kaginsa-ginsa'y bumundol ang kanyang bangka sa paanan ng Waczim. Kagy at umigkas ang katagang kimkim noon sa kanyang dibdib: "Salapi!" Bumuhos ng salapi-- mga butil at gilit ng ginto-- mula papawirin. At halos umapaw sa ginto ang bangka ng nagulantang na mangingisda, walang pagsidlan ang galak, at walang humpay ang pasasalamat sa mga bathala. Nanumbalik ang kalusugan ng kabiyak ng mangingisda. At lumago ang kabuhayan, naging mariwasa ang magkapilas-puso na dating maralita. Nilasing ng kanyang mga dating kalapit-bahay ang mangingisda-- na hindi ikina...

Cal y canto con camote

FENG shui (literally, wind water flow) lore has it root crops embody a hidden store of treasures. Say, a local food conglomerate needs yearly 35,000 metric tons of cassava for livestock feed-- the available local supply falls short of 13,000 tons. Cassava granules sell for around P9 a kilo. Demand for the same root crop to be used in liquor manufacturing is hitting above the roof. Why, raising cassava is a no-brainer task— this is one tough crop that can grow in the most hostile patches of earth, providing sustenance for ages to dwellers in sub-Saharan parts of Africa. While the hardy cassava is nearly pure starch, the lowly sweet potato or kamote is considered by nutritionists as a super food, the most nutritious of all vegetables— kamote levels of Vitamin A are “off the charts, rich in antioxidants and anti-inflammatory properties.” A fist-sized kamote can supply a day’s dose of glucose to fuel the brain, muscles, and organs, so they claim. Count the country lucky...

Wealth garden

‘TWAS CRUEL as smashing a budding green thumb: some years back, an abuela warned me about letting any clump of katigbi (Job’s tears or Coix lachrymal jobi for you botanists) from growing in our homeyard. That grass with rapier-like leaves that smelled of freshly pounded pinipig supposedly invited bad luck and sorrows—why, that biblical character Job wailed and howled a lot, didn’t he? (But was later rewarded with oodles of goodies, wasn’t he?) Then, I came across some arcane text that practically goaded folks to grow katigbi in their gardens—why, there’s a starchy kernel wrapped shut in the seed’s shiny coat. A handful or more of kernels could be cooked as porridge. Too, one could whisper a wish upon seven seed pods, throw ‘em pods in running water—a river or stream—and the wish would be granted! I was warned, too, about planting kapok or talisay trees right in the homeyard—these trees form a cross-like branching pattern. Pasang-krus daw ang bahay na kalapit sa puno ng kapok, tal...