MANGKOKOLUM!

इन अ लेगालेसे तंगले एंड स्त्रन्गले

2011-11-09T02:35:00.000-08:00

In a legalese tangle and strangle

IF memory serves, filmmaker-turned-lawmaker Manuel “Lito” Lapid had crafted the measure that provides copies of court proceedings to a needy litigant who’ll likely bleed his pockets dry pursuing or defending his case… and who’ll likely get his brains tied in clots and knots over whatever such court documents purport to explain.

The language of truth is plain and homey as Marcellinus Ammianus would have it, but legalese can be as binding as a strangle of pubic hairs… why, common sense can hardly squeeze into that density, a train of thought wobbling with the weight of passengers crammed to the rafters, plied off as herd to the slaughter. Maybe, Ammianus was obliquely hinting that legalese is a vehicle for lies and mayhem. As we use words, words use us in turn.

And such usage that cloaks and chokes rather than sheds light cannot dispel the contempt that the man in the street feels toward the judiciary.

Case in point. On September 2010, Ricardo Silverio Jr. sold to Monica Ocampo for P180 million a parcel of land with improvements on 82 Cambridge Circle, Forbes Park, in Makati. Silverio and Ocampo drew up and executed a deed of absolute sale dated September 16, 2010—so the property now belongs to Ocampo.

Ocampo coughed up some more money to have the property registered in her name—to validate, stamp the legal imprimatur of ownership.

Afterward, Ocampo sold off her newly acquired property for P200 million— a January 12, 2011 deed of absolute sale set to full effect the transfer of ownership to the buyer, ZEE2 Resources, Inc. through the firm’s director Rebecca O. Caisip. Again, the firm went through the legal route and had the property duly registered in the name of ZEE2 Resources, Inc.

Here’s the spoiler: all it took was a court ruling to shove out Ocampo and ZEE2 Resources Inc. of legitimate hold on the multi-million peso property. Never mind the nobody who cranked up the ruling, we’re not out to trot out his name, give him 10-sec fame…

But that ruling ran roughshod on the niceties of the Torrens title system, even ran a steamroller on the Bill of Rights enshrined in the fundamental law of the land— “No man shall be deprived of life, liberty or property without due process of law.”

What could the outfit do but beg the higher courts, hurl a wad of spittle or two at the, gasp, magistrate who honored the nation’s trenchant land registry system and the constitutionally sanctified Bill of Rights by evisceration?

Okay, ZEE2 has to spend some more hiring a battery of lawyers to go begging before the Court of Appeals to step in, do something about that magistrate’s questionable ruling… ah, the wheels of justice can grind s-o-o-o-o s-s-lo-o-w-w…

"A 9mm bullet travels around 1,500 feet per second. It will travel around 2,500 yards before it falls."

That 1991 testosterone chockful of a movie, “Stone Cold” that starred football star Brian Bosworth as violence-prone undercover cop, that was a huge yawn as arch villain Lance Henriksen who was on trial at the Supreme Court whips out a machine pistol and proceeds to perforate the necessary portions in the bodies of the high magistrates en banc… that was so, uh, b-a-a-a-d!

Sometimes, such a gore-splattered footage reels out like a fond dream in these parts where hoodlums in robes have the gall to hold justice in chains… and my barrister beer buddy who’s a senior partner at “The Firm” would have a laugh at this, mwa-ha-ha-haw!

Garden guardians repel insect pests including dreaded dengue-carriers

2011-08-19T18:56:00.000-07:00

ANY viand that counts in tomato as ingredient can be zinged up with basil— as ancients have it, the plant negates evil intentions… and repels insect pests, say, Aedes aegypti or the dreaded dengue-carrier.

Basil—balanoy, albahaka in Tagalog—perks up salsa and pasta. Like the demonized tobacco, basil leaves and flowers are acceptable as offering to Krishna, uh, what’s a name, you can also call Him Yahweh, Jove, Ama, Allah or Amaterazu o Kami... such offering is often requited with boons not too palpable—safety of the household, inner strength and good luck. The leaves bring relief to colic, stomachache, and toothache.

Basil is grown at the eastern portion of the home or at the left side of the house’s main door to allow ambient breezes to swill out the plant’s insect-repellent bio-chemicals.

Full-grown basil and seedlings can be bought at Manila Seedling Bank Foundation plant stores at that spread of green over EDSA and Quezon Avenue in Quezon City; at the Bureau of Plant Industry nursery along Visayas Avenue a sneeze off the Quezon Memorial Circle or along San Andres St. in Manila; even at the rearmost portion of Mahogany Market in Tagaytay City that also sells other insect pest repelling plants:

(1) citronella or lemon grass whose sprigs go into roast chicken or suckling pig;

(2) bride of the sun or marigold, best planted at the household’s western section or near the kitchen to nudge easy cash flow for the home (as feng shui lore has it);

(3) malvarosa, a staple ingredient in pickles and sweet preserves especially makapuno coconut;

(4) chrysanthemum (or its nearest kin damong-maria) whose extracts go into plant-based insecticides and a nerve poison slathered at the tips of throwing daggers and star knives or shuriken;

(5) sweetsop or atis;

(6) madre de cacao or kakawate, with its spray of lilac and light pink blooms in summer, petals are subtly sweetish and can go into salads; and

(7) linga (literally, “penis” in Sanskrit) or sesame.

Ah, Musa… there’s a Musa coccinea among my green wards. Musa is banana, an herb whose soft trunk is a favorite hang-out for mosquitoes, dengue carriers included that suck on the banana sapling sap. It’s best planted at the home lot’s southeastern portion, as offering to Lakshmi, Hindu goddess of beauty and bounty.

Uh, bananas pack a certain biochemical that somehow oozes off the skin—and attracts mosquitoes. It won’t hurt to wean children off bananas during dengue season.

Tactile

2011-07-11T21:55:00.000-07:00

FOR a hillock of soiled clothes she laundered by hand, she was paid P300. She spent a fraction of a day’s eternity rubbing, kneading out stains spread over cloth threads that wore her palms raw. She spent P150 for a can of infant formula. Good for a stretch of three days to keep her child fed.

It was a feat. She had hewn with her hands through a hillock—neither forbidding nor rough as a mountain. But she did it in less than a day, slow shearing of shoulder sinew and the backside spread of flesh did not impede a frenzy of her arms as she wore down the clothes heap that was before her and was done, gone.

There would be days ahead. Days would bring heaps and hillocks she can hew down barehanded. She had just turned 20, and her new-found strength was a gift to be cherished. The body mends after a flood of soreness sweeps through the marrow.

Her strength would meet a now not-so-daunting dare of a P150 can of infant formula, three-day sustenance for her child. She can envision three, six, nine, maybe even a dozen days of provisions.

The child will grow. And she will equally grow strong; prove more than equal to mounds and mountains of soiled wear she can apply her strength to.

She won’t rue over the man who impregnated her. He wasn’t strong, just another weakling who would likely cause another to be pregnant…

We touched hands, she taking pride in the roughness and growing toughness of her palms that went through laundry work. I was touched… and let out a wolfish grin—mine are wont to silk glides over a computer’s keyboard or soft raking through a child’s hair, or kneading and tugging at mons veneris, annealed in some spots with tusk-toughness of raw ivory keen for ripping, shearing tasks.

Brawn’s not enough. There has to be fusion of brains and brawn. Let’s see first about getting you through high school… then, college.

Sheer strength isn’t enough, there has to be shearing power that can course through human touch.

लविश फ़ास्ट फॉर अस्सटिक saint

2011-06-23T05:18:00.000-07:00

Lavish feast for ascetic saint

BALAYAN, Batangas: Howler ‘Falcon’ won’t have anything to do with the swelling surge of what looks like floodwaters here—it’s only beer being emptied into huge galvanized iron tubs called bañeras that usually hold a plethora of catch off the nearby bay and beyond. A boisterous binge of beer and serving upon heaping serving of roast suckling chunks unfolds to stuff revelers and guests, to honor the most revered patron saint of Batangas—St. John the Baptist.

Savor the irony: the hermit as voice in the wilderness subsisted on the pulp and seeds of the carob tree, edible roots and locust. His birthday-- it falls on summer solstice, roughly six months before the birth of Christ-- is celebrated here with the renowned “Parada ng Lechon” (Parade of Roast Pig), likely to make up for in surfeit what John the Baptist lacked in his Spartan food fare.

As unrepentant seeker of reforms, St. John (the name means “beloved of God”) got his head chopped off—and some revelers somehow lose theirs in the copious intake of intoxicating drink. Those about to nod off on the drinking table are properly doused, roused back sober with either a glass or pail of water.

“This is tropic bacchanalia. There is so much electricity, so much energy and merry-making in the yearly tribute to St. John the Baptist. The town fiesta is actually on December 8, feast of the Immaculate Conception that we don’t celebrate like this. There is a collective belief among Batangueños that since St. John had baptized Jesus Christ, he was the most preeminent propagator of the Christian faith,” explained erstwhile local councilor Catalino Alano.

Two years back, 300 roast suckling pigs went on parade—a record, according to Alano who averred, “On any year, locals would trot out an average 200 for the celebration. A 150-strong parade denotes a hard-up year for locals and migrant Balayeños.”

There wasn’t much fanfare to the celebration in the 1960s when Alano’s father took his brood of children to the Balayan Bay shoreline every June 24, goading the children to dip in as long as they want as re-enactment of the celebrated Baptist’s routine. Always, a suckling pig on a spit was brought along with either a jug or two of coconut vodka (lambanog) or cases of beer for the daylong thanksgiving feast.

Old-timers surmise that an-old fashioned “Parada ng Lechon” must have started in the 1900s, in a year after the infamous Bell Campaign that saw American soldiers slaughter native Batangueños 10 years old and above to effect a province-wide pacification. As a traditional piece de resistance to any Filipino feast, lechon was deemed an apt offering (atang, or food offering to placate unseen spirits).

“It was strictly a tradition begun by the more affluent residents of the town, mostly those who have taken residence in the western section of Balayan’s poblacion. This is a cluster of homes where the makers of bagoong, the traders, landowners, and market stallholders live. Entire clans would troop to the seashore with lechon and liquor in tow, go through the drenching rites of baptism, then, share the feast among themselves after prayers of thanks. That’s how this whole shebang began,” Alano noted.

To this day, “Parada ng Lechon” has remained a preserve of sorts by the families of Balayan’s western section who have organized in December 8, 1959 a fraternity called Hermandad San Juan Bautista to oversee the annual devotion.

The rites start out with the dapit (welcome) on June 14, followed by a nine-day novena on June 15-23 celebrated at the tuklong (Batangan word for chapel).

“The religious gives way to a frenzy of revelry on June 24,” Alano said.

Then again, June 24 is also a worldwide celebration of summer solstice; it is believed to be a magical time when faeries and benign spirits revel with mortals to partake of food offerings, and in turn, bestow blessings and great fortune to people who share their blessings with others.

ओपन एयर (कों बस)

2011-05-19T23:30:00.000-07:00

Open air-con bus

ALIN ang mas nakakahiya, makita ng madla na nangungulangot o umamin sa pag-utot?

Agad na inilipat ang talapihitan ng radyo sa 98.7 FM… ibang usapan, panayam sa isang babaeng manunulat ng mga librong crime thriller, inuungkat ang diskarte niya sa pananaliksik at pagsusulat. Now, that’s the kind of earful that I won’t take offense at… it has respect for me as an erudite, maybe, learned listener… kaya hindi mabubulungan ni Satanas na bibigyan niya ako ng kahit ilang nuclear warheads para burahin sa balat ng lupa at sa himpapawid ang naunang istasyon ng radyong bumulaga sa pandinig.

‘Yung mapapakinggan at mapapanood ang isa sa mga pangunahing dahilan kaya mas mahilig kaming sumakay sa open air(con bus)… tipid kahit konti sa pasahe, at karaniwang walang ‘kakapikang radyo na magbubuhos ng usapang imburnal o DVD player na magpapalabas ng mga tagpo ng pelikulang karima-rimarim.

Lack of such contraptions in those buses won’t allow the bus driver to inflict his execrable taste for sights or ‘sounds’ on the hapless commuter.

Hindi na baleng sumagap ng lahat ng alimuom, alikabok at usok-tambutso mula lansangan… basta huwag na lang mapika’t makapag-isip kung paano uupakan ng weapons of mass destruction ang mga bugok at gunggong na kapural ng mass distraction.

Hindi naman siguro mga busabos ang mga tsuper ng bus sa Cebu—palihug, sa lugar lang, bay—na nagpumilit sa LTFRB… na kahit daw patuloy umaakyat ang presyo ng krudo, hindi raw sila gagaya sa mga bus sa Metro-Manila na nagkukumahog na patawan ng mas mabigat na parusa sa bulsa ang karaniwang commuters. Ibinalik nila sa P6 ang singil sa minimum fare.

That’s a show of sensitivity and consideration. Isa pa sigurong malinaw na asenso sa lansangan kung mas maraming public utility vehicles na masasakyan ko ang nakapako ang radyo sa 98.7 FM… classical music ang ibinubusina ng naturang himpilan. At iba ang bisa ng classical music on attention span, focus, and brain energy levels…

In an independent traffic study done on a major thoroughfare in the western corridor of the metropolis, it was found that (1) infrastructures—and the route was wide enough to accommodate vehicles of all sizes-- to ease flow of both pedestrian and vehicular traffic were in place, (2)traffic laws on road use and safety are more than enough, and (3) traffic signs were in order… yet, that thoroughfare was bedeviled every hour on the hour by monster traffic jams. What was wrong?

Without batting an eyelash, the surveyors told it like it is: “You Filipinos have an attitude problem in the streets. That’s the root of the traffic problems that you have in every bit of by-way or major highway.”

Gano’n lang ang ugat ng suliranin ng Filipino sa trapik… pati na drug trafficking.

UNIFORMALDEHYDE

2011-04-30T19:51:00.000-07:00

HUHUBARIN lang ang uniporma pagkatapos ng laban… mas masaya nga ‘yung laban na…uh, umpisa pa lang, hubad agad… at umaatikabong salpukan ang kasunod… na talagang kalugod-lugod hanggang gulugod.

Pero matagal nang bisyo ‘yang liga kapag bakasyon ang kabataan… tiyak na parang mga kandidato na magsasadya sa mga bahay-bahay. Hihingi ng limos. Pambili ng uniporma. Basketbolahan… na tinukoy minsan ng katotong Yen Makabenta na, “pathology.” Talamak na sakit.

Kaya pinaghahandaan ng pang-embalsamo ang mga tiyak na matitigok.

Uniformaldehyde solution!

Nahirang nga minsan bilang tournament director-chief arbiter sa Palaro sa Senado… gulantang ang mga kasamahan sa aming chess team nang mapansin nila na kami lang ang hindi nakauniporma… ba’t hindi raw ako umungot ng budget para do’n.

‘Kako’y ano ba’ng gusto n’yo, uniporma o laban?

Nang mahawi ang usok sa huling araw ng palaro, dalawa sa tropa ang pumitas ng medalya… aba’y talagang araw-araw na isinalang sila sa paghahanda bago sumagupa sa matinding paligsahan… ‘yung mga kabilang sa tropang todo-bihis, ipagpaumanhin na hanggang sa bihis lang pala.

Para nga tiyak na walang abala’t aabalahing bulsa sa uniporma, ako ang isinabak sa languyan… breast stroke… h’wag nang ungkatin kung anu-ano ang mga sukat ng pinaglalamutak para humakot ng medalya.

Nagbibihis habang nakamasid ako sa kanya, si Tinay Maralit na maghahasa ng mga paslit na lumahok sa summer taekwondo class ng National Press Club. ‘Kako’y umabot ako sa ikalawang antas ng kuro-obi or blackbelt rank in shorin-ryu karatedo… na hindi nakatikim na magsapin sa katawan ng uniporma… ‘yung mga aralin at kabihasaan lang ang lubusang sumalin sa katawan… hanggang sa mga himaymay ng laman.

Aba’y it takes some four years—give or take a few months—to get into the spirit of a ritualized execution of technique… ba’t pa kailangang bihisan ng uniporma… vital essence takes precedence and significance over put-on appearance, mwa-ha-ha-haw!

And with so many techniques to perform many times over, praxis takes an entire lifetime… hindi ‘to bisyo o libangan na pampalipas lang ng buryong sa tag-araw.

Wala pang P50 ang nalagas sa bulsa, chess set… iniregalo sa inaanak, na matindi ang bigat ng kamao… nagtagubilin sa kumare na sanayin ang bata sa ganoong laro… kailangan na maging matindi ang gagap sa mga pihit ng pagkakataon sa bawat tulak, tambang at abang ng mga puwersa.

Kapag nahasa ‘kako ang inaanak sa laro ng isipan, isusunod naman ang laro para mahubog ang pangangatawan… basic drills in the fighting arts that should entail a lifetime of dedication. That ought to build character. Steely character.

Mainit ngayong tag-araw… parang sumusuot na singaw ng masiglang apoy sa tunawan ng metal sa pandayan… pero ang mga tulad ng inyong imbing lingkod, matagal nang nahilig sa paglalaro ng apoy, mwa-ha-ha-haw!

Despicable Khaddafy Duck!

2011-04-13T21:50:00.000-07:00

SUMUKA, oops, sumuko ka na, Col. Moammar Khaddafy para aawitan ka namin ng lumang kanta ni Matt Monro, ‘yung “Softly, I will Libya, softly…”

Kasi naman: sa bukanang taon ng mga 1970, nakatikim din kami ng biglang hulagpos ng mga produkto de krudo… mula P0.15 sanlitro ng gasolina, tumadyak pataas sa loob lang ng sanlinggo— pumalo sa P1.50 sanlitro!

Mahal na nga, wala pang mabili sa mga gasolinahan… kilo-kilometro sa haba ang pila ng mga sasakyan na magpapakarga, pero tasado sa limang litro lang… pasensiya ang mauubusan.

Kaya sagsag noon si Imelda Romualdez-Marcos patungo riyan sa lupalop nga ni Khaddafy… para umamot ng krudong maitutustos sa mga nabalahong pagawaan, planta ng elektrisidad, transportasyon sa bansa… parang naghihingalong kumanta ng banat Metallica: “Quench my thirst with gasoline!”

Nauna ngang dumulog noon si Imelda sa China… binentahan naman ng krudong Sheng Li—na nang dalisayin, pulos alkitran at liquefied petroleum gas lang ang kinalabasan.

Nahimok naman ni Imelda ang diktador ng Libya na bentahan tayo ng krudo… habang namimilipit noon ang Pilipinas sa isinalang na oil embargo ng mga bansang Arabogli na walang sabi-sabing dumaluhong sa Israel… na nauwi nga sa tinatawag na Yom Kippur War.

Kung ilang araw lang sumambulat ang naturang digmaan sa Gitnang Silangan—pero nayanig pati ang maraming panig ng daigdig, kabilang na nga ang ‘Pinas.

Sa totoo lang, wala pang 1% ang bahagi ng Pilipinas sa pandaigdigang pamilihan na tinutustusan ng mga produkto de krudo… patak lang talaga ang kailangan dito.

Pero kapag nabawasan ang bulto ng dumadaloy na krudo sa pandaigdigang pamilihan, talagang damay ang ‘Pinas sa kakulangan… at dahil sa wala pa ring paghupa ang digmaan sa Libya (na nag-aambag din ng malaking bulto ng krudo na isinasalin sa pandaigdigang pamilihan), kulang tuloy ang naitutustos… hindi naman kasi naniniwala ang maraming gunggong dito sa Pilipinas na we cannot abrogate, amend or repeal the law of supply and demand.

Kapag hindi ka sumuko, Col. Moammar Khaddafy, baka mapilitan kaming isabak kontra sa mga kabig mo ang mga militanteng tsuper at iba pang kaalyado nila sa ‘Pinas. Hala ka!

Baka naman gusto mong may magsadya pang First Lady ng ‘Pinas para malamuyot ka uli para bumaba na sa trono, aba’y wala pa nga kaming mahagilap na ipapadalang unang ginang.

Pero kung papayag si Kris Aquino saka ang katoto naming Boy Abunda, baka sila na lang ang aatasan na magpunta diyan… lalong aangat ang iyong nuisance value, este, celebrity status.

Pero kung hindi ka talaga mahihimok na umalis sa poder at magpasarap na lang sa Bermuda, Switzerland, o kahit sa Busuanga, Palawan… talagang tatagal pa ang bakbakan diyan… ikaw rin, baka maging biktima kang bigla ng surgical extraction, mwa-ha-ha-haw!

Sibat ng tadhana

2011-04-11T23:31:00.001-07:00

TATLO lang kami sa Samahang Centurion (SC, ginamit na ang baybay Español, baka sabihing kabig kami ni Hitler na mahilig sa sariling sikap kung S.S. ang ipaparada). Nangako sa isa’t isa na aabot kami sa edad-100 o higit pa.

Hindi sa kutob na lulusot ang nakasalang na panukalang batas na magbibigay ng P1 milyon sa sinumang Pilipino na aabot sa ganoong edad… saan pa gugugulin ang ganoong halaga kung ni hindi na makatindig, maipasok ang astig na…

T-t-teka, astig talaga ang mga kawal ng Roman Empire kahit noong panahon ni Kristo… centurions do day-long marches lugging armaments and provisions over half their body weight, aba’y marami na ngayong batugan na halos gumapang sa bigat ng sariling bayag, mwa-ha-ha-haw!

‘Yun nga palang panukalang gantimpala na P1M, mas magandang palitan na lang… mas mainam na itakdang batas sa mga korporasyon sa bansa na bigyan pa rin ng hanapbuhay—at matinong sahod-- ang mga nasa dapit-hapong edad, kung gusto pa nilang mag-ambag ng kakayahan at kaalaman sa pambansang kabuhayan…

Sa sulipat na tingin kasi ng human resource development managers in our strangled neck of the woods, wala nang ibubuga ang nasa edad-40 pataas. So they’re giving all the opportunities to raw recruits in their 20’s, and they expect them to have the experience and the mettle for the métier.

Eh, paano naman kaming may matinding disiplina ng centurion? It takes such ruthless discipline to gain compassion.

Gunita na rin sa semana santa ang habag na ipinakita ni Longhinus, centurion na sinalaksak ng sibat ang tagiliran ng nakapakong Kristo… para matapos na ang paghihirap nito… kamukat-mukat, ang ulo ng naturang sibat ang naging agimat daw ni Adolph Hitler sa kanyang tangkang pagsakop sa buong mundo… at sinumang magtataglay ng naturang spearhead, kakasihan daw sa pagkakamit ng global military power.

And a centurion wielded such an amulet for global conquest to bring cessation to the agony of the world’s Redeemer…

It takes metal mettle to be a centurion… ‘yung may itatagal sa mahinahong sikad ng panahon.

Sa isang kasapi namin muling narinig na nabanggit ang kataga na higit sa 50 taon nang nakabaon sa guni-guni’t gunita… shibumi. Effortless perfection ang isang katuturan. Matimpi, masinop na paglalapat ng kakayahan sa mga mumunting gawain ang isa pang katuturan.

It’s a deeper down-to-earth way of life… and you can only go to such depths of a down-to-earth lifestyle by taking on responsibilities, a ton or two gets you weighed down, keeps both feet firmer on the ground, mwa-ha-ha-haw!

Para talagang kawal noong panahon ni Kristo… kayang pasanin ang bigat ng mga dalahin sa mga maghapon at magdamag, tungo sa kung saan-saang larangan at lupalop na lulupigin.

The onus of heavy responsibility can bear down on the shoulders but won’t wear down, even uplift the bearer…

Kalikasandali

2011-04-11T20:02:00.000-07:00

NAUNGKAT mo, Dax Cleofe, kung nagsusulat ako tungkol sa kalikasan. Kailangan. Dapat.

Technical paper para sa World Bank ang ipinasulat sa ‘kin nitong mga 1980, paglapat ng tinatawag na microclimate para sa paaralan, para angkop sa pagsasalin ng mga kaalaman ang iiral na lagay ng panahon sa paligid—hindi pa lumulutang noon ang mga usapin sa global warming, climate change, and anthropogenic-driven wreckage of environment.

Higit sa P10,000 ang tabo sa sinulat—malaking halaga sa panahong ‘yon. May naunang kita noong mga 1960 ukol sa ganoon ding kaalaman, P5 (malaking halaga rin para sa musmos na gaya ko noon) para sa sambigkis na tangkay at ugat ng makahiya na kinalap ko kung saan-saang parang… inilalaga pala ‘yon, iniinom ang pinaglagaan… ampat sa matinding agas-dugo ng bagong panganak na ina.

P10,000 o P5 man, there’s value that can translate to pesos and centavos out of intimate knowing of nature. Mas matindi nga ang ibang antas ng halaga batay sa feng shui, vastu at furyu… kapag malago ang paligid ng pamamahay, malago din ang pamumuhay… sa karaniwang gunggong na Pilipino, sasabihin agad na pugad ng ahas at lamok ang tahanan kapag maraming halaman at puno sa paligid…

Aba’y palpak na akala lang ‘yon ng gunggong. Marami nang bugok na natigok sa akala. Kung saan umiiral ang paglalapat ng kaalaman sa feng shui (China), vastu (India) at furyu (Japan), pansinin na todo-angat kaysa Pilipinas ang kabuhayan.

An’dali namang alamin kung anu-ano ang mga kaalamang ‘yon, para pakinabangan din natin.

Laro pa lang sa ‘yo ang taekwondo. Pero tiyak na nakabigkis din ang mga malalim na pamamaraan nito sa kalikasan, halimbawa’y taimtim na paglilimi—meditation. That can only be done with best results near a tree or a body of water… scientific explanation: negative ions that can recharge our bodies permeate the ambient air where there’s a stand of trees or where there’s moving water.

Punong akasya (Samanea saman or rain tree) raw ang pinaghahasaan noon ni Rep. Emmanuel “Pacman” Pacquiao ng kanyang kamao, hindi pa siya noon boksingero. ‘Yung punong akasya sa tabing bahay namin, ginawa kong makawara ang bulas, ipinaputol naman ng hindot na kalapit-bahay, makalat daw ang laglag na dahon… mas mabigat, mas malaki sa ‘kin ang katawan ng nagpaputol sa akasya—pero nagulantang pa nang buhatin ko siya pati kinauupuang silya (hindi ko naman ibinalibag o inilampaso)… hindi ibinunyag na sa akasya hinango ang ganoong lakas.

Pero sa feng shui, isinasaad na dinadaluyan ng lakas ng dragon at bangis ng tigre ang buong katawan ng punongkahoy… at hinahango ang bangis-lakas sa masinop na pagtatanim ng puno sa paligid ng pamamahay. It’s not an attempt to control the forces of nature, it’s an effort to harmonize with and harness nature’s energies.

Sa tulad mo na marami pang aalamin, matututunan sa taekwondo, isa sa mga pakay nito na maging sangkap ka rin ng kalikasan—ah, it’s not a striving to come to grips with nature, it is becoming one with, turning into a force of Nature…

By then, you become an act of God.

Maiksi ang kumot— bumaluktot

2011-04-10T20:11:00.001-07:00

NO outlandish flourishes and frills, just plain-as-tack economy of movement and brutal simplicity that makes for beauty… and lethal efficiency. Such is Krav Maga, a system of close-quarter fighting plied by Mossad operatives and elite forces operating in the world’s most hostile areas to survive even thrive.

Thrift is practical virtue and frugality pays, indeed—we haven’t learned that yet. Kapag maiksi ang kumot—kahit tuwid na daan, bumaluktot.

Say, a P13-billion scheme proffering a lame excuse to improve existing airport facilities looks more of a screaming faggot move to keep up with the Joneses. Monies won’t come from government coffers as taxpayers’ necks will be laid on the chopping block as usual. As guarantee of payment for a loan from Japan Bank of International Cooperation’s Overseas Development Assistance (ODA).

What could bleeding taxpayers do but raise hackles or hone hatchets for burying into the backs of big spenders keen on pushing through with the costly scheme?

Hopefully, there’s the Commission on Audit (COA) that ought to lend an ear to our howls for a no-nonsense look-see into what looks like another shady deal done in 2010… we could nudge COA to go through that kit and caboodle with a fine-tooth comb.

This might be a litmus test for COA’s newly appointed top honchos led by ex-finance undersecretary, Ma. Gracia Pulido-Tan and celebrated whistleblower Heidi Mendoza who vowed to trudge in the raw from Batasan Hills to Quezon City Rotonda should one Gen. Carlos P. Garcia turn up “not guilty” of graft and plunder charges.

Not that we crave a thorough sniff at nude stunners but something smells in the P13-billion Sumitomo/Thales joint venture-Department of Transportation & Communications (DOTC) deal for the nationwide upgrade of the country’s communications, navigation surveillance and air traffic management (CNS/ATM) facilities and systems.

By expending such a staggering cost, as one praise release has it worded, “the Philippines becomes one of many Asia Pacific countries including China, Singapore, Taiwan, Vietnam, Indonesia, South Korea, Australia and Thailand that have selected Thales’s award-winning… technology to enhance the safety and security of their airspace.”

However, some officials from the Civil Aviation Authority (CAAP) aren’t impressed. Rather than buy a Porsche, oops, go through with such a luxury, those who balk at the CNS/ATM scheme would rather have DOTC put the newly upgraded Manila Air Control Center (MACC) into action… and we’re talking and walking about saving the taxpayer from paying through the nose.

Besides, experts say the upgraded MACC is based on current technology as prescribed by the latest Eurocontrol and International Civil Aviation Organization requirements for automation. It has 12 consoles that can monitor up to 4,000 flights and beyond a day. Current air traffic in the entire Philippines: 1,000 a day with growth of significant levels in the future coming mostly from domestic carriers.

This early, COA underlings has reared a gauntlet of questions on the P13-billion scheme, including a dubious P600-million advance payment to Aussie-French contractor Thales… like ducks, both DOTC and Malacañang minions choose to duck and quack away at the questions.

The P13-billion question remains unanswered. There’s likelihood that both Tan and Mendoza would take the cudgels for us taxpayers in a fight that pits them against Goliaths in the P-Noy administration hierarchy, including the so-called “Three Kings of DOTC” who have vowed to thwart COA, telling all and sundry that both Tan and Mendoza are in their pockets and thus, get the deal going like greased lightning.

So taxpayers, prepare to gnash your teeth… and if they’ve been ground to stubs with years of gnashing, gnash your gums, mwa-ha-ha-ha-haw!

Bulag kikita

2011-04-06T21:50:00.000-07:00

MAY tagabulag at tagabulog sa balita na umabot daw sa $2,000 ang karaniwang kita santaon nitong 2010—enunciated as seamy sounding two-oh-ten—ng bawat Pilipino, mwa-ha-ha-haw!

Batay daw ito sa pagbubuhat ng sariling bangko, este, benchmark… gross domestic product na sumampa sa may 7.5% kaya umangat ang kili-kili, este, ang kabuhayan daw ng sambayanan— the operative word in GDP is gross o garapal.

May tagabulag sa balita—hindi kasi makikita kaya pilit na sinasalat, kinakapa, dinadakma yata ang anumang matambok na laman sa pagitan ng ibinukakang wallet… such economic analysis stems from paralysis, something’s got to turn stiff in such a process that shouldn’t be heard as it’s obscene.

Manigas ka! (Uh, even such an invocation won’t do any good to mental faculties beset with erectile dysfunction, mwa-ha-ha-haw!)

May tagabulog sa ganitong balita, we just went through a thorough… sa’n pa nga ba iduduldol ang ganyang ibinabandila kundi sa hiwa?

Trotting out GDP as indicator of a nation’s economic health has gone effete. Monies and sums can be thrown like caution to the winds for the most whimsical ends, say, to convince the electorate to vote for a convicted plunderer, pave the highway to hell with political intentions, or ask all and sundry, “naranasan mo na bang maligo sa dagat ng basura?”

Parang apoy lang ang GDP, kapag sinulsulan ng gatong—sisigla ang liyab… kahit walang pagkain na naluto.

Gano’n ang nangyari nitong 2010—naglustay-laspag ng sandamakmak na kuwarta. Walang inilaan bilang puhunan sa lalagong negosyo. Walang itinustos upang mapalaki’t mapadami ang mga mumunting industriya. Hindi napatibay ng bagong suhay ang mga haligi ng pambansang pamumuhay… kalusugan, kabuhayan, edukasyon.

Edukasyon? Aba’y masusukat ang lumalaking bilang ng mga bobotanteng gunggong nitong 2010… muntik nang maungusan ang naging Numero Unoo ng tutulog-tulog na senador na naging Numero Uno…

Umangat ang GDP, hindi umangat ang Pilipino.

Sabi nga ni Pablo Picasso hindi natin sisimulang mahalin ang sinumang babae sa pagsusukat ng mga numero sa katawan… susuyuin, bibigyan ng pagpapahalaga at kakalingain upang lalong tumingkad ang kanyang mga taglay na katangian.

That’s where the so-called Human Development Index (HDI) espoused by the United Nations and the Gross National Happiness (GNH) plied out by Bhutan, a kingdom in the Himalayan mountains get a better grip on what really works for people.

Nakatuon ang HDI at GNH (whose “most important goal is the peace and happiness of our people and the security and sovereignty of the nation”) sa pag-unlad ng tao—hindi pagkuwenta sa ginugol na kuwalta.

Kapakanan ng taumbayan ang tahasang batayan ng pagsulong ng bansa.

Professions of undying love or lust, indecent proposals, invitations to liquor-tasting sessions, PRoblem-solving tasks, marching orders, notices on collectible checks and airline tickets for two may be coursed through 0909-4777-438, 0929-4266-091 or noqualmasabomb@yahoo.com, mwa-ha-ha-haw!

बलिन्ताताव नग dragon

2011-04-02T23:15:00.000-07:00

PINAKASUWERTENG araw daw sa 2011 ang Abril 6 kaugnay sa maliyab na pagtatalik ng Araw at lagalag na Jupiter… nasa tugatog ang bulwak ng magkasanib na alimuom o katas nila sa pagitan ng alas siete’t alas nueve ng umaga.

Mapapasagunson—katagang Batangan ‘to, “sunduin” o “dalhin pauwi” ang kahulugan—ang ningning at ningas ng Araw kasanib ang pag-unlad at kasaganaan na hatid ng Jupiter kung gagawin ang isang payak na ritwal… ang paglalapat ng balintataw o inla sa mata ng dragon.

Hindi na kailangang bumili pa ng imahen o pigurin ng dragon sa Chinatown… download na lang sa Internet, naglisaw do’n ang samut-saring imahen ng dragon… ‘yung mga nais makatipid, puwede na ring lapatan ng balintataw ang mata ng kambal na dragon na nakataliba sa bukana ng Jones Bridge sa pagitan ng National Press Club at Philippine Post Office, o kahit ‘yung nasa bunganga ng Ongpin na nakatanaw sa simbahan sa Sta. Cruz…

Pinsel at tintang itim lang ang kailangan para lagyan ng tuldok na balintataw ang dragon… kailangan lang na may malakas na tugtugin na isasaliw habang idinuduldol ang brotsa (pinsel) sa mata ng imahen o pigurin… siyempre, masayang tugtog—sakto siguro ‘yung “I Want To Be A Billionaire” pero ‘yang pagwawalis-tambok, teka, masidhi (mula Sanskrit, saddha at siddhi, “disiplina” at “puspos ng liwanag na paham”) masinsinang pagbrotsa ay kailangan ng mas malibog na tugtugin… kaya mas angkop yata ang mga obra nina Antonio Vivaldi, Johann Sebastian Bach, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, at Richard Strauss… bahala kayo kahit “I Who Have Nothing” pa ang patugtugin n’yo, mwa-ha-ha-haw!

Sangkaterba raw ang nagbabasa sa pitak na ‘to, lalo na sa online edition… dahil yata sa mga ganitong pagsisiwalat. Meron daw antique value para sa mga mahilig maghalungkat ng kaalamang antigo.

Saka matagal ang tinatawag na period of obsolescence… kung ilang ulit daw binabasa ng mga nakatutok dito para lang maunawaan nang lubusan ang mga inilalahad. Lalim daw kasi.

Mas gusto raw nila ‘yung mababaw lang… ‘yung apat na pulgada lang sa kababawan because that’s the average length of the fifth limb for probing into lush, silken-wet depths… noblesse oblige. Ibinibigay ang hilig ng mga mahilig.

Dahilan: kung hindi maantig ang nasa pagitan ng dalawang mata, tiyak na mauuntag ang nasa pagitan ng dalawang hita…

Hindi na siguro uungot, uungkat pa ang mambabasa namin hinggil sa sagisag ng dragon… nakakubli ito bilang pantig sa katagang “tulong” at talagang marami—lalo na ang ilang nakaniig na dilag-- ang nangangailangan ng too long. Even for a short time.

Walang mawawala kung gagawin ang ritwal na inilahad… ilang patak lang ng tintang itim, ilang saglit na pagduldol ng brotsa, at ilang sandaling saliw ng liwanag at masayang musika.

Catch eternity’s bounty through a dragon’s eyes...

सिएते palabras

2011-03-30T20:39:00.000-07:00

TAGACATAGA… that trots out a genome sequence spelled in letter codes G, A, T, C-- the blueprint of life, likely, as some inspired geneticists point up, “the mind of God.”

Kutob lang naman na tumatagos hanggang hibla’t himaymay ng laman ang mga kataga na nakagawiang gamitin sa pamamahayag, sa pakikitalastasan, sa paghalukay ng isipan… language is a tool and recent findings show that inept or deft usage of tools can shape the individual within and without… there is formation in in-formation.

Gano’n ang nagkukubling katotohanan sa iginiit ni Lewis Carroll, “we use words, words use us.”

May taga marahil ang mga kataga… kaya may mga tinatawag na pangungusap ng kapangyarihan, words that can unleash thaumaturgy and wonders… words that can heal. Or even kill.

Sa The White Plague ni Frank Herbert, “pinihit” ng isang molecular biologist ang mga c,a,t,a,g,a sa pinakaubod at buod ng himaymay ng laman… saka ipinamudmod sa buong daigdig sa pamamagitan ng perang papel ang binagong kaalaman na tatagos sa laman… at halos nalipol ang mga babae… yeah, there’s gene tinkering in genocide.

Meron din namang iba pang kataga na tumatagos sa kalamnan ng mga dilag… but the likes of this old geezer isn’t inclined to be romantic or rheumatic… baka sa halip na apuntahan ng gayuma, tamaan pa kayo ng rayuma…

Totoong may orasyon o bulong na pampalubag, panglumay… at pampaliyab ng puso’t puson… natunghayan nga ang kalipunan ng mga pangungusap na ‘yon mula sa isang aklat na iniingatan sa kanyang baul ng isang yumaong abuelo… kaya pala humayo’t nakarami kahit hindi matatawag na simpatiko’t kuwago, este, guwapo.

Fahrenheit 451, that’s kindling temperature for paper to burn, ‘yon ang sinapit ng naturang iniingatang aklat ng abuelo… kaya nga noon napaglimi na dapat palang mas matindi pa ang pag-iingat at pagsisinop sa pananalita, sa pangungusap… sa pagtaga ng mga kataga. Dapat palang ingatan hanggang sa puso’t isipan.

Mauungkat din kasi ngayong semana santa ang iba’t ibang katuturan sa huling pitong pangungusap ng Manunubos… sangkatutak na namang sermon at pangangaral ang aalimbukay, lalo pa ngayong matindi’t nakakarindi ang lobbying ng Simbahan kontra reproductive health bill… kailangang bumaru… oops, humarurot kayo nang makarami.

Iba naman kasi ang nahalungkat naming binibigkas sa pagsasanay ng qigong… matatawag din na siete palabras, kabilang ang isa na akma sa reproductive health, para makaiwas sa mga kapansanan at karamdaman sa mga ari-ariang natitinag… kabilang na ang prostate cancer, erectile dysfunction, at kawalan ng katas sa palabas, ehehek, palabras.

Magkatunog ang kataga mula China—paslang, pasilang… life and death denoted by ah, so similar strokes of a picture word whose significance was divined and put to work by a molecular biologist in a Frank Herbert novel…

Kata. Taga. Kataga.

Siyam na puso

2011-03-19T03:55:00.000-07:00

SIYAM na dalaginding ang nag-abot sa ‘kin sa hati ng kanilang puso… iniingatan ko hanggang ngayon, maganda kasing palatandaan.

Sa pagbasa ng kapalaran sa baraha, katuparan ng kahilingan ang kahulugan kapag lumitaw na kasama ang siyam na puso mula binalasa’t inilapag na hanay ng mga baraha.

240 ang mga kabataang iyon ng Sta. Clara High School—nasa isang hulong barangay, nakapagitan sa magkabilang hanay ng kabundukan sa Aritao, Nueva Vizcaya… walang WiFi, walang cell phone signal, walang Facebook… and a boulder-studded emerald river that waters the wide swathes of rice paddies runs through that valley…

Nagbigay kami ng pagsasanay… leadership and team-building… 11 obstacle and challenge courses… napatoka sa akin ang paksa sa human development— na naipihit pa rin sa hilig ko, sex…

Sa mahigit 4,000,000 spermatozoa na magkakarera tungo sa iisang gantimpalang ovum, iisa lang ang magwawagi… upang mabuo ang sanggol. That makes every individual a born-winner, not the typical one-in-a-million victor but one who has prevailed in a race for life over a few millions… get that into your head, grab that as a winning attitude for life… and you’re set.

Mula salagmak na higa, ipinakita upang sundan ng mga bata ang pagbangon… at pagtindig. That shows once you’re down, the ground holds you in a most restful, stable position, and there’s no way but up… such a simple physical task—quite an ordeal for those with back problems or joint pains—points up a sense of direction for the taking.

On one’s feet, there ought to be extensions and expansions to strive for… to realize full dimensions and capacities of psyche and sinew… so I had to goad them to engage themselves in chores and challenges, great and small… work with a variety of tools in a variety of spheres of activity.

Such tasks strengthen the body, steel the mind, so I point out as we go through a mélange of stretching motions… I don’t do a lecture; I make my audience go through physical drills… the body learns a body of knowledge imparted via body language.

All it takes to make a leader is to have followers… I led those kids in a maze of moves, they followed (uh, that makes me a leader) as I explained away what those moves can lead to, whatever’s to be gleaned thereat.

‘Kakahingal at ‘kakagutom ang ganitong paraan ng pagsasalin ng kabatiran—ni hindi nga umabot sa 30 minuto ang ibinigay na panayam sa kawan ng kabataang nakabilad sa araw… ayoko namang masunog ang balat nila. (Pero pinababalik ako sa kanilang lupalop dahil bitin daw sila, ‘langya talaga.)

Sa huling yugto ng pagsasanay, ginanyak ang mga bata na ipagkaloob ang kabiyak ng pusong papel na ipinamahagi sa kanila… ihandog ang kabiyak sa sinuman na, sabi nga’y someone who had touched your heart in the course of the training… sa kasamang kaibigan at kamag-aral napasalin ang mga puso… pero nakarami pala ako no’n, may mga dalaginding na nasaling ko ang puso sa ginawang panayam at pagpag-kuripagpag ng katawan.

Tatlong aralin lang ang ipinakita: (1) You were a born winner; (2) You can fail or fall, but that should nudge you to stand anew, stand tall; (3) On your feet, extend and expand every which way you can, that’s the way to go.

Talk-chalk is cheap. Body language is lots more fluently eloquent.

Ligaya-gaya puto-maya

2011-03-12T23:33:00.000-08:00

PINIPILI lang ang ginagaya para maligaya—hindi totoo ‘yung alamat ng ika-100 unggoy na natutong lumikha ng kasangkapan, nagbungkal ng kamote’t nakarami kaya ginaya ng iba pang unggoy… na tinawag ngang monkey see, monkey do.

Gunggong, mangmang at Penoy bugok lang ang hangad na maging halimbawa sila sa kanilang gawa— mas marami nga, ngawa. ‘Hirap sundan ang yapak ni, halimbawa lang, Gautama Buddha… na bawat hakbang, may susulpot na iba’t ibang bulaklak o halamang may pakinabang… pero ganoon ang ‘sarap tularan.

Sa higit 10 taon, parang Kristo na itinulos sa iisang krus ang pagtatanim sa sinadyang lupalop… malawak ang latag ng lupa, pero makitid ang hagip ng lirip at isip—aba’y parang ‘yung kalapit-bahay na sinasaltik ni Dennis Fetalino ng samut-saring lait… ‘yon at ‘yon lang ang ipuputak sa maghapon at magdamag-- kaya walang kuwalta sa bulsa, pulos singaw ng tumbong sa cabeza…

Naungkat sa ‘kin kung magbubuhos ako ng kapital sa binabalak kong pagtatanim ng iba pang gulay—na maisasalya sa lokal na pamilihan… ‘kako’y umaabot sa 80% ng puhunan sa mga gano’ng proyekto’y binubuhusan lang ng pawis… sariling katawan ang ipupuhunan… character is doing what’s been done, past feats done as repeats, ah, that’s merely rephrasing a sage.

I won’t be in it for calibrated yields, optimized profits— Frank Lloyd Wright agrees to what I have in mind, "The thing always happens that you really believe in; and the belief in a thing makes it happen."

Let’s ply out a new word: agrinulture. Laging si Dennis lang ang kinakabahang may mga dilag na kakatig sa silangan at kanluran ang magkabilang hita kapag nagtagal ako saanmang lunan… pero iba talaga ipupursigeng ma-ATM na balak.

Kopya lang ‘to: “Excellent learning condition = Novel Activity—>triggers dopamine—>creates a higher motivational state—>which fuels engagement and primes neurons—>neurogenesis can take place + increase in synaptic plasticity (increase in new neural connections, or learning).”

Learn more, earn more.

Payag ngang gawin ang ginawa na ni Masutatsu Oyama… utaw lang ang pagkain, luhong maituturing ang inihaw na hilaw na saba na ididildil sa bagoong… he developed a technique called “God Hand.” Mine’s something called “Demon Hand.”

Paulit-ulit lang ang ilandang ng mga datos at kaalaman… na nito ngang 2008, katumbas daw ng pagbabasa ng 176 peryodiko sa araw-araw ng bawat tao sa mundo… higit 90% ang inuulit sa mga inilahad, katiting lang ang mga bagong naidagdag sa bulto ng kaalaman…

Mauungkat na naman ang pagsasangla ng kaluluwa para makatuklas ng kaalaman… Faustus the Magus… Solomon born of Bathsheba and King David.

“What shall it profit a man to gain the whole world and lose his own soul?”

Ganoon pa rin ang umiiral ngayon sa ating panahon.

Usapan, isipan

2011-03-07T02:42:00.000-08:00

THE tussle of sorts with a tactical interrogator in the Nueva Vizcaya hinterlands is a fart, just passing gas compared to whirlwinds that a sad child summons in the briefest of chit-chats… matinding usapan kailangan ng mas matalim na isipan.

Kabilang ang paslit sa pulutong na iginalugad sa maliit na latag ng kabundukan upang tukuyin, kilalanin ang samut-saring damo’t halamang ligaw na may pakinabang. Babes in the woods likely to get lost in such treacherous terrain… yet even harsh topography can be rendered familiar, less forbidding, and even friendly for the adventurous.

And before we broke camp, I reminded the kids they can invite me as their Facebook friend… so I can “Ignore” them, duh, I didn’t have the heart for ignorance.

Mabubungkal ng mga paslit ang kung anu-ano mang isinalpak sa sariling pahina… at may pumansin sa retratong kipkip ko na tila bungkos ng aklat ang panganay na apo habang naglalakad sa patuto ng gulayan sa La Trinidad, Benguet… isinaad na nasa bahaging likod ng larawan naming maglolo ang bahay ng isa niyang tiyahin, doon daw siya nanunuluyan… at aanyayahan daw niya akong magbakasyon sa kanila… balak akong ipakilala sa kung sinu-sino.

Tulad sa naging pangunguna sa mga hakbang tungo sa pagtuklas sa ipinatahak na landas, kailangan muling pangunahan ang paslit na katalastasan… they’ll chance upon me online, kindle a conversation.

Naimungkahi sa isa-- wala raw siyang mapupuntahan sa bakasyon-- na tumulong sa mga gawaing pambahay… para makagiliwan siya ng nanay, tatay, kapatid.

Hiwalay daw silang magkapatid ng tirahan kaya hindi sila madalas nagkikita. Matagal na ring hiwalay ang kanyang ama’t ina… so I was chatting up the collateral damage to a domestic parting of ways.

Daig ko pa ang dinagukan sa isinulat na tugon ng bata… may sundot ng tinik sa dibdib ‘yon. Makabugbog-damdamin… pero kailangang malusutan nang hindi na kakalkalin pa o huhugutin ang anumang nakatimo sa isipan ng kausap…

Isinulat kong kahit musmos ay may dapat gampanang gawain at tungkulin, parang laro lang din ang mga gawaing-bahay… nakakapagpasigla ng katawan, nakakapagpalinaw sa isipan. At kung wala mang nanay, tatay o kapatid na makakaalam sa kanyang ginawa, meron namang Diablolo Dong na matutuwa sa kanyang pagtalima.

May kasamang smiley icon ang “Thank you” ng ka-chat… big deal. Kasi nahuli ko yata ang loob.

Sa isa naman na hiwalay din ang mga magulang, nagpatianod na lang… isinaad na mas madaling maunawa dahil mas malinaw ‘kako ang nasa isip at dibdib ng paslit… idinagdag pa na habang tumatanda, parang nahahalukay na tubig sa sapa ang isip at dibdib— marami nang putik at dumi ang humahalo… kaya lumalabo, kaya mas mahirap na lagukin… mapait o mapakla na sa lasa.

And what do we do with roiled muddy waters? We can’t wash the filth out. We just wait for the dirt and murk to settle to the bottom… and that takes lots of time… some patience, too.

So reading, even such taut notes online that hold a future in ransom… that can likely make a full man, (Burp! I’m full but what were the lean pickings have I feasted on?) Ambush conference may ready a man for the unexpected… and just maybe, addressing tender minds would call for sloughing calluses to requite the softness seeking for elderly affection.

Gusto ko yatang maniwala kay Dr. Jose Rizal na kabataan ang pigsa… pag-asa siguro na lumalaki’t kailangang sinupin, tipunin at tagniin ang mga nangapilas na pangarap. Just like Noah building an ark and trotting in a pair of each creation before the torrents of reckoning pours down…

Dumarami yata ang bilang ng mga apo na kailangang subaybayan… bigyan ng patnubay kahit paminsan-minsan lang, o kapag hinihingi na ng pagkakataon.

And the child’s name is not tomorrow after we adults have sorted out, cleaned up the mess… the child’s name is Now.

So on any day past lunch when they should be nudged to take a nap, a child chances upon me online tending to my e-mails… and tap out a gentle firestorm of a chat… and I’d burn, be charred.

Alak pa!

2011-03-07T02:29:00.000-08:00

AFTER suggesting in a focused discussion that local crop raisers curb overproduction, take after the OPEC tack of calibrated yields to provide stability to farm-gate prices for their produce, I was singled out for two-bit tactical interrogation… so it turned out to be an ugly military rigmarole for usual rebel suspects.

The gaggle of “farmers” of Belance, Dupax del Norte in the Nueva Vizcaya hinterlands I had talked to were local militia… who won’t ever have inkling on the finer points of agricultural practice and out-and-out capitalist marketing ploy… they just wanted to make me sing under mental duress, “I’m a Red rabble-rouser out to infect you locals with Leftist ideas.”

If it quacks like a capitalist duck but doesn’t waddle like one… there must be something wrong.

So we were set up prior to a round up— say, two comely education coeds of the Nueva Vizcaya State University in Bambang; a faculty of Sunhaven Academy in Bulacan; a manager for the Savory chain of restaurants out to procure raw stock for his firm; one technical assistant for erstwhile lawmaker Leticia Ramos-Shahani; an assortment of naïve do-gooders out to share time, resources, plus know-how.

They plied me with drink… 4 x 4, local term for cuatro cantos… to which I raised a perpetual toast, “In vino veritas” that ought to have wafted on their faces like a polite insult… but that won’t occur to a bunch of cunctators.

I wouldn’t fault them for mistaking me for a grizzled guerrilla… my manner of walking implied a well-drilled martial gait wont to any terrain, upright wiry body posture too soldierly or smoothly sexy coiled like steel springs about to pounce… eh dati akong sundalo.

One had posted himself an elbow strike off my left rear side, fidgety four arrayed themselves at the table to my left… uneasy interrogating officer faced me nearly lurched on a chair, in evasive maneuvers with his eyes avoiding direct visual contact and wouldn’t touch the grog, to which I freely helped myself… the village official sat on a right corner of the room with arms akimbo observing the proceedings with nary a pipsqueak… and Roy Camacho, an NLRC arbitration officer on workdays who appointed himself as my right-hand man—he sat in calm menace near the door-- had both hands tucked into his jacket’s front pockets, maybe with a pair of cocked cannons, likely itching to blast away and call it a day.

So we passed palaver. The halogen bulb over our heads just wasn’t boiling bright or glaring enough to chuck clammy coldness seeping in the room and into our bones… or in the adjacent village hall were I repaired to with the rest of our crew after, uh, did our hosts treated me and Roy to six four-by-fours and pig’s blood stew?

A Roy and a de los Reyes—those poseurs were in the company of kings who freely took their fill.

Roy himself drank some more and saw off the military officer; he was likely no lower than a major in rank as evinced by a high level of ease in spoken English and flighty demeanor… why, we ought to thank him for being a generous host… then again, his body language betrayed how he was processing proffered data only with the left brain hemisphere, strictly logical… so inadequate.

Naghanay ako ng tatlong sako ng bigas na tutulugan, yes, that sounded like a warm pile of a big ass… the middle section of that pile sagged, and goes to show I was a 24-karat Centrist, had wet dreams and must have tossed or pumped away a lot in my sleep…

Late evening of the next day, I spewed an earful at the officials of the non-government organization that took me to that place in the boondocks, no cell signal there… six four-by-fours is pittance pay for crop marketing counseling plus generous bits of comedy skit I gave out to sham farmers… and wilt thou strew pearls before swine?

Alak pa!

Pagkaing pampatikas, pampatigas

2011-02-23T18:31:00.000-08:00

WIMPY lang ang mahilig lumantak ng hamburger—kaya yata hugis hippoputamus ang katawan… kaya maraming musmos na lumalaki nitong dekada 1960 ang nandiri sa kinagigiliwang lantakan ngayon. Nakahiligan naman ang pagkain ng kinagigiliwan ni Popeye, spinach—kahit pa mahirap makahagilap nito sa Pilipinas.

Pero marami namang katumbas ang naturang comfort food sa paligid—na damong ligaw lang kung ituring… itulos lang sa lupa, tutubo at lalago. Kabilang ang talbos ng sili, kamote, malunggay, uray o kulitis, lubi-lubi, lalaking bignay, kataka-taka, talinum, onte, kamote, kangkong, saluyot, mustasa, alugbati… pawang nanlilimahid din sa iron na panlaban sa pamumutla’t anemia o kulang sa dugo.

Mabubungkal sa ulat kamakailan na pati mga kampeon sa Universal Fighting Championships at iba pang batikan sa mixed martial arts, gumagaya na rin kay Popeye na mahilig sa gulay… sila na rin ang nagsasabi na dahil sa ganitong pagkain, mas matindi ang kanilang stamina sa laban. At mas mabilis pang maipagpag ang mga pananakit ng kalamnan mula umaatikabong bugbugan.

Sa cartoon series, parang magic ang bisa ng de-latang gulay na lalantakan ni Popeye kapag bugbog-sarado na’t lupaypay… iglap na nagiging bundok ang bisig at nagiging buhawi ang bilis sa galaw ng buong katawan… totoo pala ‘yun!

Pero hindi pala bio-available iron content sa dahong gulay ang dahilan ng mas mahusay, mas matinding ibubuga ng katawan.

Natukoy sa pananaliksik na nitrate ang sumasalin sa laman, kahit 300 grams lang sa araw-araw ay sapat upang maging matindi ang muscle efficiency and performance.

Iglap ang bisa sa pagkain ni Popeye. Sa totoo, tatlong araw lang ang kailangan para sumipa na ang epekto ng pagkain ng dahong gulay na mayaman sa nitrate… that turns up nitric oxide, a signaling chemical that opens up blood vessels, lowers blood pressure, and improves circulation… panlaban din sa mga sakit sa puso at diabetes.

Findings show that dietary nitrate increases levels of nitric oxide in the body with the help of friendly bacteria in the gut—kaya tumpak talaga na magkatuwang na ulam ang hilaw na mustasa at burong dalag na nanggigitata sa mabuting mikrobyo.

Isa pang bentahe ng nitric oxide sa katawan: mas mahusay na pagtindig ng singkapan kapag sasabak sa saksakan… nitric oxide as signaling chemical opens up the blood vessels in two main cylindrical cavities that run the length of the penis so that blood can rush in and hold ten times more blood… then, blood is trapped and the fully engorged tool is on the ready.

Kaya pala mahilig sa gulay ang mga kuneho.

Ay-ayyatenka, ading!

2011-02-17T18:28:00.000-08:00

BARELY above a whisper, a snake’s hiss is expelled off the diaphragm nearly draining the lungs of its air intake… done 18 to 36 times in the course of a day the regimen toughens the air passages, bronchioles, lungs including, that in turn chucks melancholy and motley feelings of sadness that can touch off pulmonary tuberculosis and other consumptive diseases.

Such a sound heals, nurtures, strengthens.

Lulan ng sasakyan mula Ampasit, La Trinidad sa lalawigang Benguet hanggang kahabaan ng lansangang tumatagos sa Tarlac, ipupukol na tila punlang palay ang tibok ng dibdib sa bawat madaanang dilag sa daan—ay-ayyatenka, ading! I love you, lady!

Duh, that wasn’t meant to waylay every lay along the way.

Nearly every lass or Iluko-speaking maiden who heard such a thundered profession of tenderness broke into a grin, or paused to roar with laughter… what a loud, unheard-of way to nudge feel-good oxytocin and estrogen hormones between a woman’s ears… maybe, bliss between lissome thighs, too.

Pati nga nadaanang kalabaw, sumang-ayon din sa ipinagtapat—“oo-nga, oo-nga!”

May naiwang hapdi sa dibdib ang kamatayan ng isang pasyenteng dilag sa dinalaw na Quezon Institute pavilion… walang dumadalaw na kaibigan, kakilala, kaanak… unti-unting kumupas ang taglay niyang kagandahan, nahumpak ang pisngi, naluoy na tila dahong tayantang sa liyab ng araw, yanig ang kabuuan kapag tinatambol ng ubo ang dibdib…

Walang maipapaliwanag na dahilan upang sumalakay at kubkubin ang kanyang katawan ng Tubercle bacillus o mga kauring mikrobyo na sanhi ng tisis… pero nakalukob at nakakulob sa kanya ang lungkot… and it was such overpowering sadness that allowed the disease to claim her.

It was too late for me to stake a claim on her, infect her with cheery contagion; maybe whacked-out laughter as I proffer lust for life… the disease had her in a death grip.

Tulad sa naging paglalakbay mula Benguet hanggang Tarlac, nadaanan ko lang din siyang nakaratay, ni hindi napansin…ni hindi nakapaglagak ng galak o alak ng halakhak… maraming gawain at gagawin ang humihingi ng pansin… at payat ang sukling pambulsa sa mga gawain ng isang non-government organization na kinabilangan ko noon…

“Maestro” na ang tawag sa akin ngayon ng mga bata… dahil yata madali akong makahuli sa kanilang kiliti o ‘yung sanhi daw ng kuliti… o dahil kahit paano, naibabahagi sa kanila ang ilang aralin ukol sa masining na pagsupil ng hininga—qigong.

It’s not too often that I leave them in stitches, gasping, rolling in laughter… if the silly gags fail, there’s the regimen meant to toughen lungs—that can be plied and shared.

Barely above a whisper, a snake’s hiss is expelled off the diaphragm nearly draining the lungs of its air intake… done 18 to 36 times in the course of a day the regimen toughens the air passages, bronchioles, lungs including, that in turn chucks melancholy and motley feelings of sadness that can touch off pulmonary tuberculosis and other consumptive diseases.

Example

2011-02-14T19:24:00.000-08:00

INSTRUCTIONS explicit or implicit are easier to follow… say, the Fibonacci sequence, 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55… you get to figure it out—and can now trot out-- the digits that’ll come next.

We can take the numbers to represent a quantum of force in motion… it’s evident in a whirling pattern wrought out in the shell of a common freshwater snail—the susong pilipit, tropic escargots which goes well simmered in coconut cream, julienned ginger and curcumin, red hot chili peppers, and minced fiddlehead fern tops or swamp cabbage… ah, suction at such ripple of nipples is a lot luscious than words.

The same number sequence whirls out with devastating results, with the calm eye of a howler or tornado as zero swirl point.

We can adopt the same mayhem as gleaned from such act of God… this portion of my lecture shifts to what fellow martial artist Alma Anonas-Carpio unleashed on a big boorish bloke in a crude display of unwanted affection for her… you’re beside the victim… with left foot as zero pivot point, whirl out like a super howler and slam edge of knife hand on the nape or smash the point of right elbow into the rib cage or at any portion of the spine…

You’re still following me? Duc, sequere, aut de via decede— that is, lead, follow, or get out of the way.

Lecture on leadership will be delivered as a midwife does to babies for a gaggle of student-leaders in, uh, is it Nueva Vizcaya this time? Kung saan-saan akong lupalop natotoka sa paglalahad ng turo at kuro… na karaniwang batay lang sa katiting na kaalaman sa paglulupa… mailalapat pala’t umaangkop sa matinong pamumuno—na masusunod kung may ipapakitang halimbawa.

Palpable xxx-ample don’t come clothed in finery or fancy clothes of explanations or extrications. So stripped down-- kariktang nakahubo’t hubad lang para makasulsol ng gatong sa liyab ng puso’t puson… para sumanib sa laman ang kaalaman.

‘Yung pulos katsang sa buong maghapon at magdamag, walang mapapala’t mapupulot na mainam diyan.

‘Yung susunod sa mga habilin at tagubilin na pawang bunton ng salita… get a firmer reading on body language that’s more telling and carry heavier weight than oral pronouncements.

Kaya kapag sumunod sa halimbawa ni P-Noy, tiyak na aabot hanggang batok ang noo’t malalagas lang ang buhok…

Face it, entropy rules… any semblance of societal or natural order dissembles into chaos.

Kaya nga mas masayang humango ng mga ulirang halimbawa mula sa Kalikasan, a divine hand steers nature which has a semblance of chaos yet is never out of order… fancy your being as a butterfly flitting serenely about in the eye of a hurricane.

At this juncture, I’d beg my young audience to rise from their seats and follow me-- a leader of sorts for the moment—in a qigong breathing drill that plies out the primal six healing sounds for inner organs… paumanhin na lang po sa bumabasa kung hindi kayo makakasunod.

Pero kahit sa paglalapat ng lunas at pagpanday sa sariling katawan sa pamamagitan ng kataga, talagang katiting lang ang kailangan… at pawang hinango pa mula Kalikasan ang bibigkasing mga tunog.

Let me be clear about this… there’s Nature and there’s human nature… that which I acknowledge as fit to lead me is where Hand Divine points to.

La luna palida como hostia mistica

2011-02-12T20:05:00.001-08:00

TO the swoon of winds tugging at my chest lifted of the day’s cares, head rendered giddy with drink… a song rock-hard thaws, rills out of my tummy and spills its notes calm like a shy scatter of stars... old as memory.

To sing in dead earnest is to pray twice… kaya marahil walang matimtimang birhen sa matiyagang manalangin… sinasamba, idinadambana saka dinadamba na.

Sa haraya ng harana iduduyan ang mga apo, kahit malayo ang mga damuho… makakagawian nila ang haplos ng lamyos mula mga labi ng Diablolo…

Iidlip na sana si Direk Dindo Angeles nang marinig na umuungol-alulong na naman ako—aba’y baka ‘kikipagbuno sa bangungot—napilitang bumaba’t ungkatin kung ano na ang kalagayan namin ni Dennis Fetalino… kaming dalawa lagi ang aabutin ng madaling-araw, ‘kikipagtipan sa tuba’t tungga sa ilang araw na pamamalagi sa pulo ng Ilin, sa kanlurang bahagi ng San Jose, Mindoro Occidental.

At sa huling yugto ng tunggaan, may udyok o tudyo ang pag-awit kasaliw ang koro ng mga kuliglig sa paligid… mutya—malaking perlas ang isa pa nitong kahulugan—ang pusyaw na mukha ng buwan sa langit, “la luna palida como hostia mistica… llueve su calida luz eucaristica.” Sapat na ang ambon ng maputlang liwanag upang umalulong mula alumpihit na sikmura. The moon stays in its heavenly course; the moon stays its curse in the lycanthrope— so bay or bray at the orb like a donkey haughty.

Say, can I carry a tune? I’d rather the tune carry me… that’s the twist of a premise in Thomas Disch’s sci-fi fable, “On Wings of Song.” Uh-oh, extant celebrity rocker rendered jobless by trenchant religious persecution turns to odds-and-ends work to subsist and pay for the upkeep of life support systems of his missus in a coma… why, mullahs plied a fatwa on singing that allowed a singer to soar to the heavens, yeah, on wings of song.

Underground dead-end: rocker is shot down in a concert finale.

“Through the storm, through the night, lead me on to the light… Take my hand, precious Lord, lead me home…”

Tatlong buwan sa sinapupunan ang isang anak nang yakagin sa isang pagtitipon ang kabiyak… konsiyerto ng mga awiting Pilipino… nakadantay sa kanyang puson ang kamay ko’t nararamdaman ang pagkislot ng damuhong musmos sa saliw ng musika… nakagiliwan yata ang mga titik ni Mang Levi Celerio, “Sa Ugoy ng Duyan.”

So old an ember memory, stoked time and again like a shy scatter of stars in spill of lullaby… Sana’y ‘di nagmaliw ang dati kong araw nang munti pang bata sa piling ni nanay… Ibig kong maulit ang awit ni inang mahal… awit ng pag-ibig noong ako’y nasa duyan.

Thus the cradle rocks to rule and reign, even over fatwa against songs that lift hearts to the skies.

Kamay ng Demonyo

2011-02-09T23:31:00.001-08:00

LAGING sa mas malaman, mas malaking bisig ng ilang katoto nasusubukan kung tumpak ba ang inilalapat na pagsasanay sa sariling kamay… nasasaktan na sila kapag nakapingki ang katamtaman lang na bisig, inihahasa bilang “Kamay ng Demonyo.”

Araw-araw ang pagsasanay… hindi lalapat ang kalawang o alikabok sa laman na laging nakasalang sa palihan… matindi na ang bisa ng ganitong gawi sa kabuuan ng utak, lalo na sa prefrontal cortex, pati sa hippocampus na binubulwakan ng dopamine neuro-hormone para manatiling masigla at may itatagal hanggang sa, the punctuation mark in this sentence, dear children, drew inspiration from The Smiths’ new wave hit, “Girlfriend in a Coma.”

At kawawa ang ulirat ng mga kumag na kuntento nang sumalampak na parang kamote’t kumatsang buong maghapon at magdamag… nagiging gunggong… unti-unti kasing natutuklap, natitibag ang laman ng utak—lalo na sa prefrontal cortex, hypothalamus, hippocampus, and the reptilian areas of the brain…

And I guess that’s what the Messiah meant in a counsel to the flock to be as gentle as doves yet wise as serpents… a quirk of herpetology, but the reptilian portion of the brain unleashes wit and whirlwind reflexes.

All it takes is 20 minutes a week of physical activity to get the brain regions worked up, as recent findings indicate. So much better if such activity is sportive… body-crippling maladies that include hypertension, diabetes, carcinoma, and heart ailments are shooed away, thrown off in getting physical.

Nakahiligan na lang na ihasa ang mga bisig upang umigkas bilang “Kamay ng Demonyo,” isang anyo ng wuyiquan na sinaunang pamamaraan ng pagsasanib ng diwa, kaluluwa, espiritu, katawan at lahat-lahat na sangkap sa kapaligiran sa pakikipagtunggalian… as the initiate gleans insights from incessant praxis, wisdom grows and the body-mind becomes interconnected to the forces of nature.

Hindi naman talaga katawan o mga kilos at kislot ang sinasanay sa araw-araw na gawain, the regimen nurtures the spirit to imbue reserves of strength to both psyche and sinew…

Kailangan kasing paghandaan ang kalikutan ng mga lumalaking apo, halimbawa’y ang damuhong Musa Rafaela… aakyat sa mesa’t ibabalibag ang katawan sa nananahimik o nagsusulat na Diablolo… paulit-ulit na ginagawa ‘yon, at kailangang masuyo, banayad na saluhin ang bagsak ng bigat ng apo…

Bukod sa pagbalibag ng katawan, kasunod na pauulanan pa nga ang kawawang Diablolo ng sunod-sunod na suntok… na kapag nasaktan, kailangan ko pang hilutin, hipan, halikan o dilaan ang sumasakit daw na bahagi ng katawan…

And it looks like she won’t tire of inflicting such mischief on gramps through the years… paano kung walang ikakaya ang tumatandang katawan sa kalikutan at kakulitan ng apo? I’d likely be bashed to a pulp out of such impish fun.

So, there’s the Demon Hand.

Lagak ng galak sa lupa

2011-02-09T18:40:00.000-08:00

SA huling araw ng kanilang pagsasanay, inudyukan ang may 50 paslit na isulat sa pilas ng papel ang kani-kanilang hiling sa hinaharap… tinipon ang mga sulat, isinalin sa sisidlan ng tubig… humukay sa paanan ng isang punong mangga’t doon inilagak ang may 50 kahilingan…

Kung “diwa’y walang gapos, puso’y walang galos” na maglalagak ng may galak na hiling sa dibdib ng lupa, ititibok ng bawat hakbang sa kanilang tatahaking landas ang mga katuparan.

Sinauna ang ganitong paniniwala. Mahahalungkat ang pamamaraan sa mga aklat ng lihim na karunungan.

Karaniwang sa kapirasong kawayan inuukit ang hiling, ibinabaon sa lupa na nakaturo ang magkabilang dulo sa timog at hilaga… upang mauntag ang kakayahan ng lupa na ibangon, palaguin na tila binhi ng halaman ang katuparan ng hiling.

Ibinubulong din sa pitong butil ng katigbi (Job’s tears) ang taimtim na hiling, saka ipinupukol sa agos ng ilog… nakaugnay ang tubig sa katuparan ng kahilingan—na karaniwang ukol sa pagbaha ng saganang kabuhayan, pagwasak sa mga balakid at sagabal… paglayo ng mga siphayo, pagrahuyo sa pinipintuho.

Kahit sa pilas ng papel na binasbasan ng langis, sinuob ng kamanyang, binudburan ng nutmeg (Myristica fragrans)… susunugin ang papel na sinulatan ng kahilingan saka ihahasik sa hangin ang abo nito…

Nakaugnay ang kahoy, apoy, tubig, lupa at hangin sa paglalagak ng hiling na may galak… na natutupad—isinuko kasi sa kapangyarihan ng santinakpan na maigawad ang katuparan… sa diwang nakalag ang mga gapos, pusong naghilom ang mga galos.

Sariling katawang lupa ang inilagak ni Judas Iscariote nang magpatiwakal matapos ipagkanulo ang tiwala ng kanyang Guro... kapalit ng kislap ng 30 pirasong pilak.

Taimtim din marahil ang kanyang kahilingan na isinaboy ng sakal na huling bunton ng hininga sa hangin, sa haplit ng init sa paligid, sa sanga ng punongkahoy na tinaguriang flowering Judas.

At talagang malago, namumulaklak ang punongkahoy ni Judas, it has become the national tree whose roots run trenchant across the land, and accursed shade looms over this country, proud of its Christian heritage rooted for centuries… equally proud of taking after Judas as paragon and paradigm in wholesale betrayal of public trust and plunder of public funds… 30 pieces of silver is, uh, a fiddling sum.

Judas emulation skids to a halt at self-immolation—the nation can go hang.

Natagalan sa pagbungkal ng lalagakang hukay ng 50 hiling—dulos kasi ang ipinangkalkal sa lupa… ginanyak ang nakahuntang matanda doon na magpahiram ng mas angkop na kagamitan…’kako’y kahit backhoe.

Baka kasi kabilang sa kahilingan ng mga musmos na nagtipon sa lugar na ‘yon—isang higit na sagana, mas maningning, mas marikit na kinabukasan para sa katuparan ng kanilang mga pira-pirasong pangarap…

At kailangan yatang marami pang kalahi ni Judas ang ubusin at ilibing.

Kontrayuma

2011-02-08T04:05:00.001-08:00

NAIPAKILALA sa mga paslit na sinanay kamakailan ang isang malapad na latag ng ikmo (ch’ing chu, Piper betle) sa lilim ng punong mangga. Nabanggit na mga matanda lang ang gumagamit sa naturang dahon… itinatapal sa mga sumasakit na kasu-kasuan o sikmura, ampat sa kirot ng kabag at rayuma…

Nalimutan pa nga ang pangalan ng halaman na kontra-diabetes din pala ang katas ng dahon… konting pananaliksik pa’t mabubungkal din ang iba pang bisa laban sa sakit ng ligaw na baging na katuwang ng apog ang dahon sa mga kakanin ng Thailand.

Opo, nagtataglay ng anti-oxidants ang ikmo, panlaban pa sa tadyak ng alkohol sa utak, at mas mabagsik kaysa streptomycin ang bisa kontra mikrobyo… kaya mas mainam lantakan—may banayad na lasa ng paminta’t sili-- kaysa iceberg or romaine lettuce.

Pwedeng lapatan ng sinumang paslit ng iba pang pangalan, halimbawa, kontrayuma… baka nga kontra sa gayuma—parang alkohol din kasi ang sipa ng pagnanasa sa utak… ‘kakahilo, ‘kakalasing, ‘kakabaliw.

So I was shaking my head seeing a smitten ‘tweener eye with fond fascination a comely girl yet to step into her teen years… “too young to really be in love— mahal ko si Toyang ‘pagkat siya’y simple lamang, kahit (pa may problema) basta’t kami ay magkasama…”

I’ve got to give it to Sesame Street’s The Count—“how do I love thee, let me count the ways, mwa-ha-ha-haw!”

Uh, if you ask me, they’re too young to be struck with cardiac unrest…

And I remember growling at a kid in near-tears tackling a physically exacting field challenge, “Forget your body… set your mind to it!” (And went through she did after a few painful attempts.)

Then I remember that romance is mostly in the mind, mostly chemical… a section of the brain spurts dopamine, more intoxicating than a jolt of vodka or whiskey that gives a giddy feel of pleasure… and another brain section is roused for a stronger jolt and begs for more of the same… male get awash in vasopressin (which makes him protective of his mate and turf) and testosterone that triggers aggression… female is soaked in estrogen which makes her feminine and tender… both are awash in oxytocin hormone that induces a feeling of bliss and well-being.

It’s a third section of the brain that binds the lover to the beloved—the caudate nucleus… the area that commits to long-term memory the look, feel, and identity of the person provoking, oops, providing the pleasure.

The kids who roared with laughter with the silly jokes I plied them on the way home won’t know better… they were getting themselves doused in oxytocin, nudging a bevy of caudate nuclei to remember… me… as my grandchildren do in moments magical when I go through antics as childish and silly.

Gayuma… a grizzled guy never needed that arcane magic when he can stoke tender conflagration in the caudate nucleus…

“What you give you get, ten times over.”

Describe, prescribe

2011-02-07T19:18:00.000-08:00

HONEST-TO-GOODNESS surveillance was carried out for more than six months… thorough extirpation spree came at the heels, each member of the official’s family— surviving next of kin, wife, sons, daughters, and grandchildren-- were sent to an early date with embalmers.

It was needless at burial rites to cue for crocodile’s tears that poured awash like cash the official had appropriated for himself over the years.

Ambuscade right after the last of his kin was interred… official was spared, though. He was pumped several clips of small caliber slugs that tore out both patellae, shredded his penis and scrotum and sent him on his knees begging his masked attackers to put him away… with a view to a reunion with kith and kin in a comfy, fiery place reserved for their kind…

His plea bargaining was politely ignored with a solemn collective salute. They wanted him to live, maybe, enjoy or endure his cache of millions… live on as a derelict.

It was a priceless gift of life—his own—that the bushwhackers were generous to bequeath him… for it was beneath human dignity to butcher a cockroach.

No mockery or scorn was meant in serving him a daily dish of flounder—palatably dainty with notes of marine depths unfathomed—and greasy slabs of pork bellies in a savory sauce the color of taxpayers’ blood and sweat… thus, his remaining days and monies were spent in a well-appointed home for the aged.

Thus, he lived in a semblance of comfy ease until he croaked his last… apparently, he grew larger than a barrel of blubber with such a prescribed diet and burped dead… many suspected it was a heart attack but there were equally valid suspicions that he didn’t have a heart.

Doc Childre and Howard Martin: "The collective energy generated from the feelings, thoughts, and attitudes of the almost six billion people on this planet creates an atmosphere or 'consciousness climate.' Surrounding us like the air we breathe, this consciousness climate affects us most strongly on energetic and emotional levels."

My dear children, that’s the flimsy excuse I can proffer as to why I don’t bother to chip in my two cents’ worth on graft and corruption… truckloads of more capable journalists and opinion makers will be sounding out volumes and summon the proverbial Furies, rail atop soapboxes and shoeboxes and slather the atmosphere with futile rage…

I’d rather pray in earnest to the angels of destruction, Kemuel and Simkiel… to do the honors and useful horror of doing the needful, maybe send several crates of .50 caliber ammo and an M-107 Barrett rifle that can take out targets a kilometer off…

Tender hands on my wall

2011-02-06T18:54:00.000-08:00

A covey of children in their pre-teens have been accepted into my clutch of FB friends… that gives them the freedom to scrawl their thoughts on a virtual wall, an agony column of sorts that allows every befriended soul—lost, found, searching-- to connect.

And what would children write about? Anything and everything they can think of. So far, only one has left a few words what she felt about what I shared—a getting-to-know-you walk on swidden trails where scraggly, struggling plant remnants of a lost wilderness still found unwieldy sanctuary.

The plants will be trampled, trodden, hacked off, uprooted, burnt… ignored… every which way we can efface fragments of a forbidding topography in a rush to more comforting, safer, perhaps ground made more familiar and suitable to haunt… the unknown will always be daunting and fearsome.

Always, the weak-hearted and frail-willed individual demands of the unknown to conform to his weakness and frailty…

Hindi ko sila naipakilala sa punong ligas na walang 500 metro ang layo sa kanilang campsite… Semecarpus cuneiformis, Xiao guo rou tuo guo… tila munting kasoy na lila o balubad na pula ang bunga… pero mag-iiwan ng mahapding butlig sa balat kapag nadampi sa mga dahon at bulaklak nito… pero panlaban pala sa arthritis at Alzheimer’s disease ang katas.

Naipakilala sila sa isang puno—ni hindi ko alam ang pangalan—na palatandaan na may tubig na mahuhukay sa kinatitindigan nito.

Naipakilala sila sa may 17 halaman na mapagkukunan ng pagkain na walang 500 metro ang layo sa kanilang tinuluyang lunan.

Naibahagi sa kanila ang payak na paraan upang maging ligtas inumin ang tubig.

Napakaraming kaalaman ang hindi na maibabahagi sa kanila… kulang sa panahon, kulang o naglaho na rin ang mga puno at halaman na nagtataglay ng iba pang kaalaman…

Ni bakas ng ahas o kahit bulate ay wala nang matatagpuan sa lawak na latag ng kaingin… ah, may nasulyapan pang kilyawan—matingkad na dilaw at marikit na itim ang nakabihis na balahibo sa bagwis at katawan.

So I had to tell them the deadliest animal on the planet that they’ll ever face is a roast suckling pig… and the most dangerous, wiliest enemy of an animal they’ll ever know is the face they’ll see before a mirror.

One friend wrote on my wall: “A long, long time ago, when I was young and impressionable, I learned the value and taste of barks, mushrooms, grass, leaves, flowers, ant eggs, worms, beetles; learned to use knives and stones; made fire, made love under trees and in the rain with narra leaves in my hair. You'd be a good teacher!”

But we have lost so much… that wilderness, the halcyon stretches and patches of Eden can never be quilted back into place, where our young may learn.

Ensaya

2011-02-02T23:35:00.000-08:00

"We honor life when we work. The type of work is not important: the fact of work is.” -- Matthew Fox

PAULIT-ULIT lang na iaangat, isusudsod ang asarol para mabuhaghag ang lupa, tumagos ang hangin sa paligid ng pananim… hanggang maging tangkay na kawayan ang kambal na bisig, maging sudsod na asero ang mga kamay.

Ilang taon din na totoka, tututok sa pangangasiwa sa pataniman ng malunggay… sa gitna ng isang pulo na nasa kanlurang bahagi ng Mindoro… walang sasakyan, walang kuryente, walang laptop, walang Facebook… pero malinaw ang talagang pakay doon—missionary outpost, agricultural extension work, on-site research and development, permaculture, agro-forestry…

Kung ano ang taglay sa laman at nalalaman, ‘yun ang isasalang sa naturang lunan… Homo doctvs is se semper divitias habet… bubukal ang yaman mula taglay na kaalaman.

Nakasaboy na tila kawan-kawang alitaptap ang mga tala’t buntala sa gabi… at samut-saring himig ng kung anu-anong kulisap ang inihahasik sa hanging naglalaro sa paligid … makakaulayaw, makakausap marahil ang genius loci o patnubay na anghel ng lunan.

Tulad sa pagsusulat, may mapanuksong haraya ang paglulupa—natutupad ang malalim na katuturan, h’wag nang kumatsang kung hindi bibihisan nang maringal at marangal ang katahimikan.

Walang puwang ang pangungulila kapag subsob sa gawain… lalo na kung marami ang makikinabang sa ibubunga ng sikap… the project is going to make a lot of difference in the lives of small people in the island… walang pamumulitika, pulos lapat-kamay na pagtupad sa mapagkupkop na agrikultura.

Biglang pihit ‘to sa kabuhayan bilang peryodista… babalikan kasi ang unang minahal-- paglulupa’t paghahalaman na nakabigkis sa masinsinang hasa ng kakayahan sa sining-tanggulan… gano’n ang ginawa nina Miyamoto Musashi, Hariya Sekiun at Chojun Miyagi— nakarating sa sukdulan ang kakayahan sa kani-kaniyang sining nang lubusang sumalang sa paglulupa.

Hindi ‘to pagsunod sa daan na kanilang tinunton… hindi rin pagsunod sa kanilang naiwang bakas ng mga hakbang sa paglalakbay… ‘yung kanilang pinakay na marating ang nais na marating.

Ikinubli nila ang masining na karahasan sa mga mahinahong kilos at kislot sa pagsisinop ng taniman at pananim… nasisinop sa paglinang at pagyayaman ang lupa, unti-unting sasalin ang kalinangan at kayamanan sa naglilinang.

The easy ground-tilling motion with a mattock is a straightforward crippling move I have drilled my children decades back… destruction sublimated through cultivation… babalik-balikan lang muli ang isinalin sa mga supling, uulit-ulitin na walang pasubali… pagyayaman sa lupa at sariling katawang lupa, a nurturing of the soul through turning of the soil.

Ang ensayo, magiging ensaya… ang saya!

Awesome career shift in the works… nakatugma sa matagal nang ninanasa— munting dampa sa pamumukadkad ng limang ektaryang lupa.

Napakagaan ng gagawin, halimbawa’y paulit-ulit na iaangat, isusudsod ang asarol para mabuhaghag ang lupa, humaplos ang hangin sa ugat ng pananim… hanggang maging tangkay na kawayan ang kambal na bisig, maging sudsod na asero ang mga kamay.

ब्रुजो देस्नुदो

2011-01-31T17:01:00.001-08:00

Brujo desnudo

IT wasn’t the P350 sitting fee that I was paid upfront after an hour or so assuming, then, keeping a pose frozen for 15 minutes in puris naturalibus… what was more precious were one or two sketches in colored pencil, charcoal, or ink on art paper that a bevy of artists gifted me after the nude sketching sessions… the missus found them—maybe the angle of the dangle-- not to her liking, disposed of them, ephemeral immortality on paper.

Ah, those painters were profuse with appreciation at what they saw… veins running like root-rills on the arms, ripple of stringy flesh on torso and thighs akin to lizards about to pounce on prey… a lot of work went into such shaping of such lean and mean meat, say, a tattoo of 108 fist blows hurled by both arms… 88 kicks for each leg… 22 blows for each elbow… and odds and ends household chores throughout any day.

Get into that shape if you’re a sucker for the Scriptures about the Hebrew term, musar— discipline, exclusive attainment, a genius-spirit ruling nature… probably what George Washington had in mind: “Discipline is the soul of an army. It makes small numbers formidable; procures success to the weak, and esteem to all.”

So I did a stint as a nude model for artists back in the 1980s… years of hatha yoga and qigong practice made it easy for me to take on and freeze a pose for extended periods—no twitching, no movement… just easy breathing in sheer calm like an unperturbed mirror pond.

Uh, that was my body that turned up in Renato Habulan’s oils on canvas depicting laborers, cane cutters, daily wage earners… the missus would recognize such a built anytime.

Nalasing sa Vino Kulafu na itinagay ng kahuntahan, nag-init ang katawan… naghubo’t hubad, naglublob sa kalapit na bahagi ng dagat na nakatanaw sa mga pulong lalawigan ng Siquijor at Cebu, kalapit ng pangunahing lansangan ng Dumaguete sa gawing silangan nito… lampas na ang hating-gabi nang gawin ‘yon pero nagliliyab ang mga hanay ng ilaw sa lansangan.

Sa pag-ahon, napansin na hinihimod ang lantad na katawan sa tingin ng mga banyaga sa tabing-aplaya… ni hindi naman nahimasmasan sa kalasingan, ni walang dalang tuwalya kaya ni hindi pinansin ang mga nakamulagat na mga mata… nagpantalon, pasuray ang lakad tungo sa tinutuluyang otel.

Eh ano kung sa pagkakataong ‘yon, bigla akong naging—wow, Philippines-- clitourist attraction?

Bawal ang pugot at pantalon sa swimming pool ng isang otel sa Batangas na minsang tinuluyan, may dress code pa pala na dapat sundin sa paglublob… out-of-the-box thinking mode made me jump into the pool with nothing but a smile and a hard-on…

Why, if beauty is only skin-dip, skinny dipping is a sane option to turn beautiful, mwa-ha-ha-haw!

रो 4

2011-01-31T03:38:00.000-08:00

Row 4

KAYA naman pala lumabas na gunggong… hindi isinalang ang katawan sa gawa—puro ngawa lang—para manatiling matino ang isipan… use it or lose it, sabi nga.

Batugan na ang katawan, batugan pati isip—gunggong na, inutil pa… walang masisipat na maganda sa katawan, mas karima-rimarim sa sukat pati isipan.

Nilinaw sa British Journal of Sports Medicine matapos ang pananaliksik sa 20,000 tao na kahit 20 minuto lang sanlinggo ang ilaan sa pagpag ng katawan, makakaiwas na sa pinsala ng isipan… noon pang 2008 ito natuklasan, pwe-he-he-he!

Hindi na kataka-taka na ang mga hinangaang sina O-sensei Morihei Ueshiba, Miyamoto Musashi, George Washington Carver, Luther Burbank at Rudolph Steiner pawang nahutok, nahubog ang katawan sa halos walang humpay na gawain sa araw-araw… kaya marahil malalim na, malawak pa ang saklaw ng kanilang inilahad na kaisipan… namuhay sila sa mga nakaraang siglo, pero nakaigpaw at angkop pa rin sa kasalukuyan pati sa hinaharap ang kanilang mga diskarte sa pamumuhay… so colossal body-mind stamina and stick-to-itiveness.

Lumitaw sa pananaliksik: the more, the merrier.

Mas maraming larangan ng gawain ang lalapatan ng katawan, higit na magiging masigla’t matipuno ang isipan. Use it or lose it… hindi na ginagamit ang utak, hindi pa nakasalang sa anumang gawa ang katawang batugan, ano ang kahihinatnan kundi kagunggungan?

Ipinagdiinan nga ng mga nagsaliksik: “any form of daily physical activity was associated with a lower risk of distress, when other influential factors, such as age, gender, and the presence of a long term condition, were taken into account.”

Pinakamatindi nga ang bisa ng gawaing pampalakasan… sportive activity can cut down risk of distress by 33%.

Steady beer buddy wanted to see me do cartwheels on the seashore… I could have obliged with a yoga head stand or reverse pose but did not… our feet turned into chariots of fire… swollen from hours and hours of trudging through trails on the island… so much sole searching done.

Tougher than cartwheels was a dare to clock 15 minutes on a climb of a 60-degree angled kilometer uphill… did that barefooted with a few huffing and puffing in about 10 minutes, mwa-ha-ha-haw!

“Physical activity curbs the risks of a range of serious diseases, such as heart disease and certain cancers.

“And it improves several biological risk factors, such as glucose intolerance and inflammation, which have … been linked to depression and dementia.”

Warat pala talaga ang katinuan kapag hindi masinop na subsob sa gawa ang katawan…

Kaya pala 100 iglap na igkas-tarak ng patalim ang kailangan araw-araw para maunawaan lang ang katuturan ng mga tagubilin ni Miyamoto Musashi…

Kaya yata walang patumanggang pagsisinop sa samut-saring halaman ang tinupad sa araw-araw nina Luther Burbank, Rudolph Steiner at George Washington Carver…

Kaya pala araw-araw ang pakikipag-ulayaw sa araw ni O-sensei Morihei Ueshiba.

Nahutok na sa pagpanday ng aserong katawan, nahatak pa upang makaigpaw sa anumang panahon ang kanilang kaisipan.

Mangkono

2011-01-30T19:25:00.000-08:00

MADALING makatagpo ng mangkono, kasi’y napakaraming umuusbong na bakawan sa disyerto’t siksikan ang mga birhen sa mga bahay-putahan.

Pinakamatigas daw na kahoy sa bansa ang mangkono, Xanthostemon verdugonianus or Philippine ironwood… aabot sa apat na araw ang paglagare sa punong may bulas na 36” sa tindi ng tigas… masusumpungan sa pulo ng Dinagat sa Surigao, Homonhon sa Samar, Babatngon sa Leyte at sa mga dawag ng Palawan… nakapagsinop na rin ng mga binhi ang isang non-government organization sa Barangay Mascap, Rodriguez sa lalawigang Rizal… at maglilipat nga ng ilang punla sa paligid ng San Beda sa Mendiola… dead smack in the asphalt and concrete wilderness.

Cabinetry o paglikha ng muwebles ang libangan ng katotong pangulo ng bangko—na nagpahanap sa inyong imbing lingkod ng mangkono… kahit ilang piraso lang ang unti-unting tapusin, bawat isa’y ituturing na heirloom piece… pamanang kagamitan.

Ilang taon din kasing totoka ang Mangkokolum sa isang pulo na karatig ng Mindoro Occidental… mangangasiwa sa isang permaculture agro-forestry project… I’d be left mostly alone to my own vices, devising, devices… pero walang dapat ikabahala ang mga nangangamba na hindi na nila matutunghayan ang pitak na ito… hindi na ito panahon ni Henry David Thoreau na magmumukmok at magmumuni sa Walden Pond… unang yugto ito ng siglo ng global interconnectivity…

Magpapanayam pa nga—sa unang linggo ng Pebrero-- sa isang pulutong ng kabataan ukol sa jungle survival… aba’y halos 90% na lang ang nalalabi sa mga dating kagubatan sa bansa… wala nang matatawag na virgin forest—ginahasa nang lahat… so I’m stumped at the idea of jungle survival since our jungles are in their death throes and people who get lost in such wrecked parts of the geography shouldn’t be there, and have no business being there… unless they’re doing permaculture or reforestation.

Sinadya kamakailan ang lunan na lalatagan ng proyekto… matitindigan kahit kapirasong dampa… nagliliwaliw sa paligid ang lawak ng lupa, masuyong halihaw ng hangin, marikit na liyab sa magdamag ng mga bituin… may malapit na sasalukan ng tubig… if there’s a minutiae of chance to get such a project off the ground and soaring, that wee part is the spark of fire that sets everything in the part into a blaze… that wee part is me who won’t wait for things to happen… I happen to things… Homo doctvs is se semper divitias habet… a wise man will make more opportunities even if such cannot be found.

Napansin ng mga kasamahan na pinakamagaan, pinakamaliit ang bitbit kong dalahin nang magtungo kami doon… sa anumang paglalakbay, kailangang pinakamagaan ang dalahin… Omnia mea mecum porto… sabi nga’y taglay ko kung ano lang ako… napakagaan talagang magkipkip ng tala-talaksang kaalaman sa sariling laman…

Hahango lang po ng dagdag pang kaalaman mula sa masuyong pakikipag-ugnayan sa lupa… aba’y sakdal sa tibay at tatag ang mangkono dahil sa kakaibang kakayahan nitong humitit sa lahat-lahat ng metal mula dibdib ng lupa…

Ah, metal mettle won’t come to those ensconced in comfort zones…

Encounter enchantment

2011-01-25T19:15:00.000-08:00

TWO or three sticks of cigarette, some coins or a candy or two suffice as peace offerings to unseen denizens of sylvan parts—the wilderness teems with beings the naked eye cannot behold.

So I told my son-in-law who wanted my company in a stab through Mt. Makulot in Cuenca, Batangas… on a day that I’ll be leaving off for the western hinterland parts of Mindoro for an agronomy project I’m tending to.

Years back, an Army buddy was doing routine patrol with his unit through the jungles of Palawan when he spotted a covey of wild doves roosting on a bough of a huge tree… he thought stringy game fowl flesh roasting on coals, sprayed half a clip off the hip, felled some birds… rushed to pick up those lean pickings here and there… then went triple time to catch up with his comrades trudging ahead.

He couldn’t catch up with his unit… saw them too distant, a blur of fatigues… beyond reach. He let out a lung-busting yell… fired off a few rounds… they ignored him, kept tramping on through the bushes.

Growing frantic, he remembered an old-timer’s counsel about peace offerings to unseen denizens of such forbidding precincts as forests, pastures, any howl of wilderness.

He unlatched a bandolier of 5.57 ammo on his chest, reverently laid it on the ground, and begged forgiveness for his misdeed… closed his eyes in mumbled prayer. He saw his companions an arm’s length away, each one puzzled at his odd actions.

He knew he was forgiven.

Over the years, I’ve had two or three of my kids in tow trekking into forbidding sylvan parts of Makiling and the Sierra Madres… gathering wildlings, collecting seeds, replanting trees, or simply doing hands-on lessons in natural history, mountaineering… jungle survival.

We’ve had run-ins with these unseen denizens, encounters with enchantment soaking up the fierce ambiance of terrain gone amuck, trails leading off to surprises.

The most damage we went through was contusions, nicks on the skin and shins, bruises… one time a nest of pig wasps went all-out on acupuncture practice on my head… rarely I turn swell-headed but this was one instance when waspish biochemistry flooded my head… to stimulate certain nerve centers in the brain, it turns out.

The trade-off: an unseen must have taken fancy to a curved blade we brought with us… we’ve mapped out a grid on the area we spent the night for a fine-tooth comb search on the missing article, found no trace of it… it turned up two years later, rusted, within the grid in which we’ve combed.

A mountaineer never asks for a level playing field… but there are dimensions beyond plain sight that can be discerned with insight, with the heart.

Hugot sa isinuksok

2011-01-24T19:10:00.000-08:00

PAMBALISONG 29” ‘to— 100 igkas-tarak na araw-araw sasanayin, iisa lang…sa isang iglap kapag may buhay na kikitlin. It’s more turned to less, quantity skimmed down to quality… a quantum of bonding time translated to eternity in a moment’s blur.

Ika-25 araw ngayon sa buwan, 29 na ang nasulat na inilagak dito, mangkokolum.blogspot.com… hugot na lang sa isinuksok, Inday… maisasalpak ‘to na tila tagdan sa butas ng pahinang pupunuan araw-araw…

Kung may tiyaga sa pagbibilang, mauungkat sa bawat nasulat na karaniwang 444, 555, 666 o 777 ang kabuuang bilang ng mga nakalatag na kataga… bakit gano’n? Sinasadya ba ‘to?

Ah, mga diwata at ninunong namayapa umano ang nakapatnubay, nasa tabi-tabi lang kapag sumulpot na signos ang 444.

Mga anghel ang nakatalaga sa paglitaw ng 555, kahit amoy-sardinas.

Pulos demonyo at mga masidhing mithi—intense thoughts that become alive, take ephemeral form and await to take flesh in reality-- na nakapailanlang sa paligid ang ibinabadya ng 666… sex, sex, sex can be ominous of bestial passions.

Pahiwatig sa magaganap na himala o mainam na pihit ng pangyayari sa buhay ang itinatakda ng 777.

Superstitious crap these might be, or just the best of wishes for our readers—18 lang nga ang nakalista na sumusubaybay sa aking web log… paisa-isa lang ang nag-iiwan ng pasasalamat at kuro sa binasa… may mga naliligaw na nag-aaral yata ng English, nakatutok daw sila sa mga susunod pang ilalagak na sinulat.

Iisa pa lang ang nagsabi—taga-Dumaguete, ‘tapos sa Silliman-- na sa isang basahan, sapol na niya ang ibig kong sabihin… mas marami ang nagrereklamo, may pagkakataon ngang tumawag ang isa sa opisina, balking and barking at how I’ve taken liberties with the English language and its idioms… hindi nakapiyak nang ako na ang kausap—naubusan ng hininga sa todong tawa.

May isa namang sumulat, sobra libog at laswa daw ‘tong kolum… bed influence raw sa mga babasang bata… hindi ko pinatulan. I don’t take minors to bed… they can’t carry either a decent or engage in an indecent conversation… lousy deportment.

Sobra? Unti-unti ang pag-alis d’yan… tanggal muna ang –bra, maiiwan ang so-… hindi na tinatapyas ‘yon, sinasaksakan nga ng silicone para maging malusog… kailangan pa ngang himasin, lamasin ng 45 minuto, as recent findings recommend, kahit araw-araw para maiwasan ang sulpot ng tumor.

Kapag higit na abala sa sulat kaysa suso, gayahin ang halimbawa ni Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart… imposible raw matugtog ng sinuman ang isang bahagi ng kanyang obra… kailangan ng sagad-habang daliri na wala sa kahit na sinong tao… tinugtog ng Mozart ang obra, dumating sa imposibleng bahagi… habang umiilandang sa kung saan-saang teklado ang mga daliri, idinuldol ang ilong sa teklado—natugtog ang imposible…

Lullaby-way

2011-01-24T04:35:00.000-08:00

SO much of a world to see, a lot to hear… more of limbs and trees and thighs to grab, grope or grasp… some meat or morsel to baste over with ember tongue… with just six senses all worked up in childhood’s exuberant enthusiasm.

An elder’s threats of thorough spanking put the brakes to a mélange of mischief impish on hyper-drive, bundled me off and… Enter Sandman—‘say your prayers, little one… don’t forget, my son, to include everyone… tuck you in warm within, keep you free…’

It turns out that there are more to sex or six of waking senses…that awaken in sleep.

Say, here’s a word I coined in R.E.M. slumber— “somnicate.” Why ambulate when it’s a lot pleasurable to fornicate while asleep?

On a cairn of rocks did a Jacob fell somnolent… and upon such arid pile rose up a ladder-- loftier and a lot sturdier than Babel’s tower—on rungs of which God’s angels did loiter, up and down, up and down, up and down… come, come, that wasn’t an extended wet dream in which a succubus either did the jackhammer on or jacked off Jacob.

On such a threshold between the mundane and celestial is a veil between worlds… slough off the febrile flesh of humanity, slip into something more comfy… the angelic, the divine, a harlequin’s… so a sleeper dreams he is a butterfly, awakens from the dream… but, is struck in awe-- he might be a butterfly dreaming of awakening as a sleeper.

Ah, the lachrymal glands purportedly serve as wormholes into which the soul sneaks out and roams about as the body sleeps… ah, crying in your sleep…let me lick with tender tongue your tears, my dear, and through your tear ducts whisper a soft word or two that may pluck, sound out a chord to echo in your soul…

Creative dreaming… psycho-cybernetic hardwiring, reprogramming… the nagual seeping into waking reality… the scattered fragments or entirety of dreams and nightmares take on flesh before wide open eyes… so dream on, “our dreams will never die,” as rebel soldiers aver… “History belongs to the dreamers,” asserts Daewoo founder Kim Woo-choong.

Dream free, dream big, dream both expansive and expensive… libre namang mangarap.

Pero sa lupalop, lalawigan at lunan ng mga pangarap, pati katotohanan ay kumukurap…

Mga kabundukan, kahit mikrobyo’t bituin, pisngi ng lupa, daliri ng kidlat at hangin, lawak at ligwak ng tubig, kahit mga lamanlupa’t lambana, engkanto’t diwata… kahit dambuhalang animal o mumunting kulisap ay makakausap… masasangguni, magsasaysay, maglalahad, magpapahayag.

It turns out that there are more to sex or six of waking senses…that awaken in sleep. A sense of wonder, a sense of calm serenity, a sense of discernment of the spirit, what’s there to rouse but a lot more?

So, the visits to my grandchildren come far too few and between… kung anu-ano kasing pagpapakitang-gilas ang gagawin ng apong Musa para maagaw ang aking pansin… such extended shows of affection and fondness wreaks havoc on her sleeping schedule, why, siesta ought to be fiesta.

And there’s a world of wonder and magic most marvelous she can traipse through beyond the fondest waking moments.

In adulthood, we trudge through harsh edges of stark reality as we claw, slash and clash along on our way to the top… in that headlong chase after now fleeting, shattered dreams.

Linteknolohiya talaga!

2011-01-24T04:25:00.000-08:00

NAGHUHUMIYAW na uhaw ng laman na laging ipapangako na didilaan, didiligan—laging sa gano’n aagos na alon ang aming usapan, kaming dalawa lang… guguhit na kidlat at liyab ang mga salitang ihahanay, isusuksok sa global information superhighway…

Seek heat and you shall find… pero sa higit 95 milyon, isa lang bawat 100 Pilipino ang gumagalugad sa world wide web…

Sa bawat 10 Pilipino na nabitag ng global web, siyam sa kanila ang lalaro ng online games—Farmville, Mafia Wars, Plants vs. Zombies-- o babad, ‘kikipaghuntahan sa social network sites (Facebook ang pinakasikat)… isa lang yata ang sasaliksik, hahalungkat ng mga kuntil-butil na kaalaman.

Nakabuyangyang ang larawan ng inyong imbing lingkod sa kanyang pitak sa Facebook at sariling web log, mangkokolum.blogspot.com… buong tiwala na kipkip sa braso ang panganay na apo, gumagala sa lawak ng tumana… pero nasisipat pala ang igting ng kalamnan sa buong katawan, napapansin ang balasik ng mata’t nguso, pati gaspang sa hagod na baga ng bigote… so there are heat-seeking missiles and many a heat-seeking Ms.

Finders, keepers…

Sa sandaling ito… bubungkalin sana ang inilagak sa Facebook na ilang bahagi ng talumpati ni Martin Luther King Jr. nang tumanggap siya ng Nobel Prize… tungkol sa natitibag, nalansag na mga hangganan ng tao sanhi ng teknolohiya… pero ubos na pala ang biniling panahon sa ikinargang P100 Internet access card para sa 20 oras… mas malaking panahon ang nilamon sa umaatikabong satsatan ng bunsong anak sa bago yatang nililigawan at iba pang kaibigan sa Facebook…

P100 spent for 20 hours… time can be a giddy joyride through cyberspace… maybe time to learn more, love more.

Offline, I step out of virtual reality, find my bearings… nahagip ng tanaw ang misis sa kusina, humakbang tungo sa kanya… hinimas sa likod saka pinupog ng halik sa batok… sanay na siya sa ganoong lambing… lalo na ang mga alagang aso’t pusa na walang kaabug-abog na hahagurin, susuklayin ko ng kamay sa ulo’t likod… susuklian ng masuyong kahol o kalmot, na mag-iiwan ng galos sa kamay o alingawngaw sa pandinig.

Nasanay na rin yata ang haliging semento’t mga punong kawayan sa timog silangan ng aming bakuran… ritwal tuwing umaga na lapatan sila ng masinsin, sunod-sunod na bigwas, tampal, kaldag ng kamay at braso… saka ilalapat ang mga dulo ng daliri sa bunganga ng palamuting banga doon—iaangat… paulit-ulit na ihahasa ang “Kamay ng Demonyo”… that serves as conduit to geo-magnetic currents in the earth’s bowels… kaya buo’t matibay pa rin ang anim na pirasong tisa, nakasalansan sa sariling sikmura…

Kevin Kelly: “Today technology suggests software, genetic engineering, virtual realities, bandwidth, surveillance agents, and artificial intelligence. You wouldn't hurt your toe if you dropped any of this.”

Shut off from the ubiquity of current technology, I’d be left to my own devices, devises… include vices.

I’d say some efficiency can be ramped up by technology… that’s applied science that give a boost to whatever habits a user/consumer plies out without qualm, without a shred of thought… efficiencies can be ramped up, get those efficiencies first…

Swapped a few lines online with a comely workmate in Makati… wrote I’d give her a hug… she replied, won’t mind getting one…

Ilang oras lang na bumabad sa opisinang sinadya, hindi kasi kaya ang tindi ng lamig-aircon… inalok niya ako ng jacket… nilapitan na lang siya, hinagod nang marahan, masuyo’t mahinahon sa balikat at likod… hindi na kailangan pang maglakbay ang kamay sa iba pang lunan sa kanyang katawan… field trip na kasi ang tawag do’n.

That’s an online threat made good…umalis akong nakangiti siya, makahulugang ngiti.

Kitam, tinitimbang saka tiim ang bitaw ng bawat salita… and better be true to your word, do honor to your economy of words… less is more—less ought to be said, more to be done.

Mas katiting na sandali ang ginugol mula 20 oras ng P100 Internet access card… pero laging dadating sa pakay na marating… mas maligoy nga ang satsatan sa cyberspace ng bunsong anak, mas marami yatang sablay o hindi tuloy sa ibig puntahan… kung anu-ano pa kasing pasikot-sikot sa taltalan.

Sa kaunting sandali ng pagliliwaliw online, may ilang nagmamanman, nagnanamnam… tinunton ang mga naiwan kong bakas… sa sariling web log, sa Facebook, sa mga nalathalang sinulat… seek heat and you shall find.

Naghuhumiyaw na uhaw ng laman na laging ipapangako na didilaan, didiligan—laging sa gano’n aagos na alon ang aming usapan, kaming dalawa lang… guguhit na kidlat at liyab ang mga salitang ihahanay, isusuksok sa global information superhighway…

Unlike an e-book, an invite or an electronic plane ticket sent to my e-mail, I can’t download her… so we both go offline, trudge into mundane reality for down-to-earth desires to align.

Finders, keepers…

Dark side of the Porsche

2011-01-22T20:13:00.000-08:00

NAPIGTAL marahil sa tangkay ang bungang pinapapak ng bayakan… pumatak sa bumbunan ng pauwi nang suray na lasing, nasapian sa todo tungga ng marka demonyo’t masayang huntahan, inabot ng hatinggabi sa daan…

Dinakot ang bilog na bungang dumikit sa ulunan… inamoy… sobra sa hinog na tsiko, biniyak… isinubo ang kalahati, nginata… sumigid hanggang bituka ang tamis. Akmang isusubo ang nalabing kalahati sa palad, napatingala sa malabay na sanga ng puno… mangga… may humahagikgik doon na aninong kanlong ng mga dahon… tsiko ang nalaglag... mula punong mangga…

Inaninag niya ang hawak na kalahati ng bunga sa palad… malagkit na himaymay ng naligis na damo… malinaw ang nakatambad na hawak: tae ng kabayo!

Dagundong ng kulog ang hagalpak ng halakhak ng dambuhalang anino na ikinukubli ng mga dahon, nakalupasay na may anyo ng tao at kabayo…

Such an eerie pony for my thoughts from a childhood spent in a gentler, more pastoral precincts of Paltok in Quezon City… long gone.

Nahasikan ng asin ang paligid ng tutulugan namin ng kasamang anak… saka maghahasik pa rin ako ng sunod-sunod na dalangin sa magdamag, Viernes Santo… nasa pampang ng ilog, kabilugan ng buwan sa tuktok ng Bundok Makiling, naglalaro ang mga kung anu-anong hugis paru-paro sa mga sanga ng punong balite na nakalilim sa aming mag-ama… basic biology tells me butterflies— they don’t giggle in impish delight-- are diurnal critters, what’s there to pollinate in the dead of night among gnarled boughs of a banyan?

Nakatalungko, nagmamasid sa paanan ng isa pang balite sa kabilang pampang ang anyong kalahating tao, kalahating kabayo… ni hindi nangahas lumapit sa ‘min… iba talaga ang bisa ng asin… at kabilang sa mga isinaulong dalangin ang pipinsala sa tao, engkanto, kapre… tikbalang.

Dapat lang iligpit ang mga gunggong— endangered species of such unfathomed dimensions, say, tikbalang ought to be conserved… they represent an untapped storehouse of dark wonder, of the dim adytum of human psyche, of knowledge yet unknown.

Kapwa bukas ang tercero ojo naming mag-ama… nakikita namin sila.

Teka, “mangingibig sa kabayo” or lover of equines ang tahasang katuturan ng “Pilipinas,” how would an apocalypse turn out if the mounts of the Four Horsemen don’t show and trot through?

Idagdag pang isinilang ang inyong imbing lingkod sa Taon ng Kabayo noong 1954— that makes me a Horse kaya talagang nakahiligan ang kumabayo dahil nga lover of equines ang katumbas ng Pilipinas… that’s a plurality of lovely mares and comely nightmares kaya laging mayroong hiya, hiya, hiya… mula puwerta hanggang rekta, tigidig-tigidig-tigidig…

I would have wished the current tenant of Malacañang not to succumb to the dark side of the Porsche… mas astig kung meron siyang kinakabayo.

That would have neighed truer to his self-ascribed sobriquet, P’Noy.

Isipin na lang kung magilas siyang nakasakay sa mola, kumakayog mula Times St. hanggang Malakanyang… kasabay ang mga alalay na sakay din ng kani-kanilang kabayo… kahit sa bangketa na lang dumaan, hindi sagabal sa daloy ng ibang sasakyan.

Guaranteed one horse power engine per equine that packs a mean kick in the teeth of oil multinationals… hey, grassoline is a lot cheaper than fossil fuels.

Kalansaysay

2011-01-22T04:17:00.000-08:00

SA udyok na bihisan ng laman at bigyan ng buhay ang natagpuang kalansay para pag-aralan daw ng nakasunod kay Hesukristo, dinagukan ang nakasunod saka sinabihan: “Sarili mong buhay at katawan hindi mo mapag-aralan, gusto mo pang panghimasukan ang sa iba, gunggong ka!”

Matutunghayan ang naturang alamat ng gunggong sa Munaqib—kalipunan ng mga kuwento, himala at aral sa Sufi… nakasulat sa sinaunang wika ng Persia, tinipon at isinalin ni Idries Shah, pinamagatang The Hundred Tales of Wisdom… P239 ang nag-iisang sipi na nabili sa National Book Store.

Makakalkal naman sa global information superhighway or Internet ang isa pang likhang salin ni Idries Shah, The Book of Power na naglalaman ng iba’t ibang pamamaraan para magkamit, gumamit ng karunungan at kapangyarihang itim…

Sumagi sa isip ang ngitngit ng Hesukristo sa kuwento nang maglahad ng santambak na hapis at hinagpis ang katotong dilag… naungkat ang masalimuot na buhay ng ilang kakilala’t kaibigan… naglimi, naghimay, nagtunton at nagsuri batay sa kani-kanilang Facebook account… lakas kasi ng buhos-ulan ng gabing iyon, sumisiksik sa laman ang lamig, mapipilitang tumungga ng Tanduay, makinig, maghintay na humupa ang ulan… schadenfraude mode turned on…

Nagsalpak naman sa puwang, “What’s on your mind?” ng… (I have) to agree with Marcus Tullius Cicero... "Cultivation to the mind is as necessary as food to the body." And cultivating heavenly bodies entails plowing 'em, then, seeding 'em, mwa-ha-ha-ha-haw! (Go ahead; seek out Dong de los Reyes as FB friend, so I can ignore you.)

Napag-alaman ang isang kaibigan na sinasamantala’t ginagawang gatasang baka ng walang trabahong kinakasama—na may batugang asawa’t mga anak… sumusundot ang Tanduay sa laman ng bungo, nag-uudyok na sumigaw, “Why can’t she just walk out on such an asshole, start afresh… get a new life?”

Napag-alaman na tinotorotot at hinuhuthutan lang ng kanyang asawa ang isa pang kaibigan… na hindi malaman ang susulingan para kumita, para mairaos ang walang saysay na luho ng asawa… now, the ravening wolf in me howls in pain at the rain…

Nabihisan ng laman ang mga nakangiting kalansay na larawan na hinukay mula Facebook…

Umaalingawngaw sa ulirat ang bulyaw ng Hesukristo sa mapanghimasok na tagasunod: “Sarili mong buhay at katawan hindi mo mapag-aralan, gusto mo pang panghimasukan ang sa iba, gunggong ka!”

Kaya uukilkil ang gagawin sa kinabukasan… wala pang sumasayad na pagkain sa sikmura, muling magsasapin sa katawan ng mga mumunting himaymay ng panibagong laman… routine drills in the so-called “Demon Hand” coaxes the ooze of human growth hormone (HGH) to weave wee strips of dark flesh beneath the skin… fond thought and reflex action are fused in such drills.

Saka muling sisipatin ang sarili sa salamin. Hihinga nang malalim, ibabaon mula gulugod hanggang talampakan ang hininga…

Saka maghihilamos, lalagok ng kakaibang tubig mula Kasulatan, Bhagavad-Gita, Munaqib, Quor’an…

Love this serene life.

Kim chi a la Diablolo

2011-01-21T21:14:00.000-08:00

‘TWAS a booze buddy gulping Cuba libre who spouted fears about a soft yet coiled steel feel about my hands… bundled phalanxes still ply out a fine right-slanted hand passing off as calligraphy or swift focused brush stroke in sumi-e… he needn’t be bothered by a show of such art and fact turning as artifact.

Naawitan ng bayaw, kim chi para sa kanyang misis na miss na miss na raw ang kakaibang himas-apoy sa dila ng aking timpla… pumapatak lang sa P150 ang halaga ng mga sangkap— napa cabbage, daikon radish, garlic chives, red hot chili peppers, ginger, garlic, shallots… a sprinkling of finely ground black peppercorns and julienned ginger in a syrup of native palm vinegar and palm sugar simmered below boiling point for the pickling solution.

Igugumon halos buong maghapon sa pakikipagbuno sa munting halo’t lusong—mortar and pestle—para magdikdik ng ihihilamos sa niluray na repolyo’t ginayat na labanos… aalimbukay ang mga nanggigitata sa tamis na gunita habang subsob sa ginagawa.

Ganoon din kasi ang paghahanda ng mga sangkap na sapak sa nilupak—nilagang manibalang na saba, asukal, mantekilya, kinudkod na niyog (mas angkop ang alangan o katamtaman ang tigas) at halos maghapong bayuhan sa lusong… habang masuyong nakamasid ang dilag na pinipithaya… hindi po pinipitpit kapag nakatihaya, “pithaya” and Pathaya in Thailand both refer to the heart’s desire… the beloved, cherished, dear one.

Titimo hanggang sa kalamnan sa gulugod at balakang ang kahit mahinay, malamyos na bayo— halos walang humpay… sinusukat nga kasi ng dalagang pinipintuho kung may itatagal ka sa ganoong gawain… the show of stamina translates to staying power and stick-to-itiveness in a boudoir bout…

So enabling, ennobling simple yet sexy a rite of food preparation… why, it’s a mating ritual stripped bare of verbosity, just a sweet promise of fulfilling coition… matingkad ang lumulutang, pumapailanlang na pagnanasang makalupa sa paglulupak… tiyak na may maghahasik ng mga biro’t tudyong maanghang… malaman… and that explains why some belles still see this old geezer as a coveted, whew, sex object…

Kung haba-taba kay tatang, lalim-luwang kay nanang—bugtong na ang sagot nga’y halo’t lusong. Butas na nakabukaka, titigmak sa lagkit ng pulot-gata… bugtong pa rin na tungkol naman sa paglulupak.

Incessant pounding turns the incendiary mix of condiments into a slurry paste reeking of fragrances… halimuyak ng baba, eh… kahit sa ganitong payak na pagpitpit ng mga sangkap, mapanukso pa rin ang mga alaala ng mga mutyang “ala, eh.” Magiging sangkap sila sa inihahanda, sila na naghandog… naghain ng kani-kanilang luto ng diyos… thus, so much loving arousal and tenderness glowing goes into the homespun recipe…

This goes out to you, Willie Nelson whose beard I envisage while lapping at southern comforts… “To all the girls I’ve loved before… took pouncing, pounding at their doors… I’m glad they came and came, ‘twas such a naughty game…for all the girls I’ve loved before.”

And if swooning into song equals praying twice, the tedium of pounding is eased with a generous muttering of orisons, marking time with a pray-over on the task at hand… karaniwang orasyong pampoder ang inuusal, sasalin na sa sariling katawan at sasalin pa rin sa lutuing iginagayak sa galak…so much dopamine, endorphin, amygdaline, oxytocin… the hormones of tender loving and fulfilled feeling attends hands-on chores… so whenever a comely damsel couldn’t put a finger on the quaint taste of my kim chi morsel, why, I’d gladly return such a compliment… and put a finger in hers.

This… suffices as explanation for the soft yet coiled steel feel about my hands… the bundled phalanxes—108 which equals the number of beads in a Buddhist rosary-- still ply out a fine right-slanted hand passing off as calligraphy or swift focused brush stroke in sumi-e… a show of such art and fact turns as artifact.

Ay, so much beauty can pile up, be teased out of painstaking tasks…

Busy hands are sexy hands, with streaks of lightning veins and tons of work—not word—made flesh in them.

Id for idea

2011-01-20T02:37:00.003-08:00

ALL’S fair, even in pouncing on a fair lady—“I would have ravished and lavished you with affection but can’t, the paper we work for trussed us off to ‘why pay’ zone!”

Stunned and struck at a loss for words, she didn’t fell off her chair… likely fell for her bushwhacker, right eye flicking a fast beat like her heart’s— so primitive a reaction for the brain’s left half to process a sudden assault of information…

The left brain reins language, reigns over the dexterity of the right hand, the ability to sort out things—tasks that demand reason and routine… uh, she could have (1) swung back with a slap or a blow that points up 2.5 million years of right-handedness (2) flung a splash of soup or slurp of wine, or (3) spouted a stream of colorful language, a tongue lashing, a defensive growl… why, findings suggest the “left brain’s capacity for controlling manual action extended to controlling the vocal apparatus for speech.”

Scored 0-3, she did none of the above, whew!

The lovely lady later went for (4) confessing a secret passion for poetry… better drop her a line—plus hook and sinker-- sometime.

Gift of gab plus grab does that to unwary prey, conveying intents erratic and purposes erotic.

You can give and take as much: a different tack was plied at the drinking joint where beloved departed Julius Fortuna and I often passed time boozing or catching the early evening news… I must have caught the fancy of this well-stacked number, she gave me a devouring look… a vixen’s yearning, heat-seeking missile of a gaze tugging off below the belt. Gird for fever-pitched battle!

Polite diplomatic brush-off in such a close call for horizontal spatial relations: “Ikagagalak ko pong kayo’y makadaupang-ari pero sadyang hindi po maaari. Nais punuan ang inyong guwang pero ako po’y buwang.”

Nose to the wind as a wolf does… scour the cocktail of smells and aromas for whiffs of blowtorch, frantic and frenzied mating urges… uh, you got the sniffles? You can catch colds, but get the hots if finely tuned in to the ambient air.

The go mad gonad signs beg to be read, pored intently… tiis ka na lang kung gunggong ka na hindi marunong magbasa kahit traffic signals, libro, peryodiko— sasagasaan ka lang talaga, tigok ka.

Hala, basa… basa… basa… read to lead the beloved into the paroxysms of a mind-expanding orgasm… inundate every date… basa.

The year bodes well for those who can read body chemistry… the United Nations declared 2011 as Year of Chemistry, so auspicious for reading between the lines, between the sheets, between the legs…

Skookum

2011-01-19T22:10:00.000-08:00

NOT so spry and sprite fast enough, past caught up with him— nightmare began, past turned up as pest.

Parang pasakalyeng palpak sa Olympic Games, they were carrying a torch for each other down the years… that torch ought to have burnt down to a stub if held that long, could have caused second-degree burns, why, it should have been passed to other runners but they didn’t. As lunatics are committed to insane asylums, the pair of parental consenting adults went through with their commitment… and committed… ah, pleasurable sins of commission and emission.

So here’s to waking up from the wrong side of the bed, maybe quaking off on the wrong bed and walking out on history—past can be pesky and bed and board for one’s sanity.

Let history indict and judge, offer every lesson, not lessen us.

Uulitin ko lang po, history is done and we’re done with it… destiny is what’s to be done and we’re doing it.

Alak pa para sa maliyab na pagsalubong sa hinaharap— talagang masarap ang mga pusikit sa karimlang hinaharap ng marami pang dilag na magiging kaliyab!

Hinahabol din ng nakaraan ang inyong imbing lingkod—paternity suits give me the creeps—kaya kailangan pang maging matulin ang matulis.

Isang makupad na katoto ang inabot ng lumipas na lipos sa sweet infantile memories… sadsad na sa takbo, nostalgia turned neuralgia, nakalingkis na bigat-linta pa ang dala-dala niya, tsk-tsk-tsk… uh, that’s the same sound a rider plies to goad a work horse to move on.

Sure, deja view appears endearingly dulcet… you can lose your head, lose sight of what’s ahead. End up lost.

Ano ba, Jena, babalik ako sa opisina sa Makati… I won’t be as argumentative, will just go for the jocular to keep y’all in stitches, or get your girls without a stitch on, mwa-ha-ha-haw!

Uh, I’ve dug up this morning a fond memory of a dish from the past… a commonplace food fare for poor folks… paksiw na ayungin, lukaok o likaok— dainty silver perch which can only thrive in unpolluted freshwater lakes and rivers simmered slow in a broth of palm vinegar, on a bed of bruised fresh mustard leaves, freshly cracked peppercorns, crushed garlic, ginger and rock salt to taste.

Silver perch of subtly sweetish flesh so abounding these days as hen’s teeth, frog feathers and pristine bodies of freshwater…

The poor man’s food fare has turned into a luxury… it cost me but this is a morsel of nostalgia that one can bite into, chew off without getting chewed up.

Mas masaya namang lantakan ‘yung tamis-linamnam na, may asim pa.

Hindi kasi napapanis ang recipe… pero kahit luto ng diyos, napapanis.

Veinte y uno

2011-01-19T06:16:00.000-08:00

KARANIWANG sa kortapluma ang sukat na 21 pulgada— mas maikli pa nga ang pantistis na scalpel pero talagang pinipili ang mga lunan ng katawan na tutuldukan o gagatlaan, kahit 2-3 pulgada ng talim susuksok, lalaslas sa mga tinatawag na brachial artery…

Size doesn’t matter, indeed, as long as the wielder makes the most in sizing up—same lethal points to ponder and sunder in both small and large targets-- then, cutting the opposition down to size.

Madaling itago ang veinte y uno kaysa 29”— kapwa balisong o baling sungay… kaya mas mainam ikintal sa kamalayan na may nakasukbit na alagang hayup sa katawan, pinapastulan… sasagisag sa kabuuan ang maliit na bahagi… synechoche… “sakit ng kalingkingan, damdamin ng buong katawan.” Dilang sulsol na gatong sa bukana, nagliliyab pati puso’t kaluluwa…

Iugnay na rin ang ang sungay sa animal na nagtustos ng gatas sa sanggol na Zeus—pinag-ugatan ng katagang “diyos” sa ating wika.

Bilang pasasalamat ng bathala sa kaloob na kupkop at kalinga, binigyan ng himala ang pumanaw na animal. Naging cornucopia or horn-of-plenty ang sungay nito—sungay na bukal ng kasaganaan sa pamumuhay.

Sa ganitong pananagisag nakabatay, isinasaalang-alang ang sukbit… kasaganaan, walang humpay na daloy ng iba’t ibang kailangan sa tiwasay, mapanlikha’t maginhawang pamumuhay.

Idagdag pa ang payong feng shui: mainam na maglagay ng siyam na matulis na bagay sa bahaging timog ng pamamahay… na nakaugnay daw sa paningin, puso, tagumpay sa negosyo, paglikha ng mga magandang pagkakataon, pagtanaw sa hinaharap at kasikatan… popularidad.

Umaayon din sa ken (panloob na pananaw, pag-arok, pagsukat, kabatiran o insight) at kan o tingin, sipat o kilatis sa mga anyong panlabas.

Kendo = malalim na pananaw na lumalaslas, tumatastas, lumalaplap sa mga panlabas na anyo.

Kando = mababaw na pananaw na karaniwang nasisilaw sa mga lantad na hugis, anyo, kulay, galaw.

Kandong = paying lap service in a tempting prelude to the jackhammer position…

Uulitin na muli ang nailahad na minsan, the tools that we employ in earnest work reconfigures, shapes the body-mind… tahasang nagiging karugtong ng ulirat at katawan ang kagamitan na laging inilalapat sa gawain… sumasalin sa laman ang kaalaman—that which we figuratively pertain to as a “body of knowledge.”

After a few high fives as we chattered away in inebriated glee at Thirst.day, Gandhi plied out a plaint about the steel-hard feel imparted by my not-so-callused palms… ‘kakatakot daw ganoong kamay… baka makamatay… naholdap tuloy ang katoto ng pantaksi.

Ay, pulos dahon ng aklat, bulas ng puno’t samut-saring kasangkapan sa araw-araw na gawain ang sumalin marahil sa palad… na ihahaplos din sa malamyos na katawan ng kabiyak, ihihimas sa sinumang kabiyakan… ibabasbas na may kalakip na sagradong mudra sa mga anak, sa mga apo, sa kahit na sino na nagmamano… ikikipil sa mga butil ng dusaryo sa panalangin… ikukurot ng paminta’t asin sa pagluluto…

Napakaraming gawain na lalapatan ng palad, napakaraming bagay-bagay na magagagap… napakaraming paglikha’t pagpuksa ang dadaloy na gawa sa palad…

May kapos-palad, may kulang-palad… at may mga mapalad. Hindi hinahanap o nasusumpungan ang kapalaran— sa mismong palad.

Kay Mariang Palad.

Post what’s on your mind

2011-01-17T02:09:00.000-08:00

ELMO, hindi ko bitbit sa gabi ng parangal ang pinakabagong siyota na may sukat 38-26-36, labanos ang kutis… mas matangkad sa ‘kin, hawas ang mukha, may ngiti sa mga mata… malambing.

Ka-chat kagabi si Dave Gomez— sa Lausanne, Switzerland pa rin… nasa Luzon ka—at naungkat bakit maniac pa rin ang Diablolo na tulad ko… ah, the good that you do comes back tenfold and I must have been bed in good.

Napipika naman si Dennis Fetalino, how come dates turn up as 30-somethings that defile the rules plied out in a Taoist sex manual that I have access to… uh, rules like hymen are made to be lapped up and lacerated, right?

‘To pa namang Dennis, ang madalas ipukpok sa bumbunan ko, “Spread the blessings.” Not my fault or misreading of the language when ‘blessings’ turn up as ‘thighs feminine’ in my lexicon.

Blessing = a state of beatitude = happiness. That’s how the Scriptures had it down pat. We misconstrue the pursuit of happiness as chasing skirts with shapely beauties in them, nah, it’s an inner state that just oozes, ripples out and laps up in its path any obstacle as the floodwaters of a river does…

To be awash in oxytocin, endorphin, amygdalin and such… yes, the cocktail of so-called ‘happy hormones’ flooding one’s bloodstream, exuding a glow in the entire body, filling a blaze of suns in the eyes… kaya nga may kaliyag… at may mga kaliyab.

Only the worrisome, sorry sourpuss gets turned off, wince in revulsion at such a blessed holocaust, sacred offerings…

The same ‘happy hormones’ surge as prairie fire in the bloodstream after the high-intensity drills on fist and elbow blows each morning—the tummy has to be empty to really feel what a phoenix feels as it burns in a pyre and rises from its ashes, renewed, ready to soar to newer skies.

Mahirap ‘yang kulang na sa harumpak, kulang pa sa pagpag ng katawan… tiyak na daldal, tungayaw, at katsang sa buong maghapon at magdamag ang ibubuga n’yan… pulos laway saka halitosis lang ang lalawa sa bunganga ng ganyan.

Nakaulo sa pinakahuling kolum sa People’s Tonight ng lumisang mahal, Odette Alcantara, “Do more, talk less.”

Para bang sinabi niya, love more, learn more…dare some more… go far so you get to know how far you can go… we really haven’t gone too far, have we?

Sa Sunset Pavilion pala ng Sofitel ang gabi ng Bright Leaf Awards for Journalism… sisiputan ‘ko, pero hindi ko bitbit do’n ang pinakabagong siyota na may sukat 38-26-36, labanos ang kutis… mas matangkad sa ‘kin, hawas ang mukha, may ngiti sa mga mata… malambing.

Bituin sa pigi

2011-01-16T18:30:00.000-08:00

TITINGALA ba sa mga bungkos ng bituin sa langit, kung may langit sa bituin sa pigi, or in plain body English, between the thighs… sights and sighs heavenly?

Sabi nga yata sa Julius Caesar ni Shakespeare: The fault, my dear, does not lie in the stars but in that we lie under the sheets, mwa-ha-ha-haw!

Dinagdagan kasi ang mga zodiac signs… nahilo na kasi ang mundo sa walang humpay na ikot nito at walang patumanggang higop ng nakabuntot na buwan… sablay na raw ang mga nakatakdang buhos ng balakubak, alimuom at singaw mula sa mga bungkos ng bituin, the assigned dozen constellations that make up zodiac signs… too, the universe is expanding… “you are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars…”

Shift happens, your guiding stars thrown out of kilter: Capricorn: January 20 - February 16; Aquarius: February 16 - March 11; Pisces: March 11 - April 18; Aries: April 18 - May 13; Taurus: May 13 - June 21; Gemini: June 21 - July 20; Cancer: July 20 - August 10; Leo: August 10 - September 16; Virgo: September 16 - October 30; Libra: October 30 - November 23; Scorpio: November 23 - November 29; Ophiuchus: November 29 - December 17; Sagittarius: December 17 - January 20.

Get me wrong as usual but the sign I was born under was dollars, pesos, deutsche marks, plus a basket of currencies to peg London interbank offered rates, Manila reference rates and two cents worth… please feel free to share such auspicious influences.

Or, as Chinese feng shui practitioners would have it cast, I saw the light in the hour of the Dragon, lavished with positive yang forces for that particular year of the Horse, the personality an admixture of water, green wood, and fire… so much seething flames under that liquid calm.

Only the faint of heart and weak of will wither along, go with the flow, and won’t be master of his/her fate or captain of his/her soul. Naipapagpag kasi ang balakubak, alimuom, at singaw mula bungkos ng mga bituin… hindi mga tala’t buntala ang nagtatakda ng kapalaran at kabuhayan— free will rules.

Para sa inyong imbing lingkod, all the forces and currents radiated above by those constellations can be tapped, channeled and focused to certain ends-- mostly mundane. Kaya gusto kong kutusan sa batok at sampigahin sa tuktok ang mga nagpapagawa pa sa ‘kin ng astrological birth charts… para daw makilala ang kanilang sari-sarili’t makagawa ng diskarte sa buhay.

I do consult the heavens, pore over those astrological charts… calculate and do agronomy, raise crops mostly based largely on the moon’s waxing and waning.

Nakabatay lang sa bilog—the circle of life with 360 degrees corresponding to a year plus five days more of rest in a nine cycle of 40 days each—ang madalas kong payo. The first 40-day cycle begins on your birthday, so go for it starting out new projects or expanding on an existing enterprise… you’ll be bristling with so much energy, glowing with so much love.

Succeeding cycles ought to be upkeep on whatever you’ve begun. The ninth cycle is a 45-day stress-filled critical trudge through a gauntlet before your birthday… this ought to be devoted to meditation, rest, prayers… so there.

“Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven.”

Salamin

2011-01-15T19:54:00.000-08:00

“To love another is to see the face of God.”
Les Miserables

BITBIT ng tatlong anak na lalaki ang kani-kanilang kasuyo sa binyag ng apong Oyayi, ipapakilala marahil sa angkan ang angkin… hinayupak talaga si Andrew E., napakaraming sinulsulan na “Humanap Ka…”

Married I am to a campus beauty queen who graduated at the top of her class, kaya talagang makukutusan ang Andrew E. kapag nagkita kami sa Las Piñas.

Teka muna, sariling sukat at sipat ang inilalapat ng titingin sa kariktan… dizzying beauty fills the eyes of a beer holder, alak pa! Para hindi na kayo gumastos sa santambak na cosmetic beauty treatments, injections and processes that inflict so much pain and drain on income… ply me with spirits.

And there’s a beyond organic fusion of body and mind— anuman ang itakda ng diwa sa katawan, tatalima na walang pasubali… Get a grip on the mind, the body acquiesces in utter surrender.

Maliksi ang diwa, maliksi pati katawan… batugan ang ulirat, inutil lumilitaw ang katawan… gunggong ang isipan, mangmang lalabas pati katawan. Kahit naman sa karatedo, 75% ang pagpanday at tuloy-tuloy na pagsasanay sa diwa’t isipan… 25% lang sa katawan—lagi kasing nananaig sa salpukan ang may matipuno’t matatag na isipan.

So when my mind can go at will between a beloved’s ears, it goes without saying that I’ll proceed with my body to go between her thighs… and I will see a reflection of myself in the vision of the beloved.

At makikita nila ang kanilang sarili sa ‘kin.

An’dami naman kasing matutuunan ng masuyong pagtingin, lalo na kapag nabatid, natiyak na iisa at hindi hiwalay ang katawan sa kamalayan.

Astig ang pusang Miaozedong, tindi ng lupit sa pagsila’t lapa ng daga, bubuli, ibon… laging tumatabi sa ‘kin sa pagtulog, parang bola ng busilak na bulak na isisiksik ang sarili sa gawing puson ko, masasal na tugtog ng kubing o Jew’s harp— purr, purr, purr-- ang mauulinig sa katawan niya kapag himbing na… and she’s one possessive pussy, dinadamba’t kinakalmot ang mga kapatid na makikitang hinahaplos ko o naglalambing sa ‘kin.

Plant breeder Luther Burbank claims that plants have over two dozen sense organs… so this sinking feeling that the stand of Chinese bamboo on which I do daily drills on wuyiquan, those bamboos are likely enjoying all that steely caressing, fondling, all such razzmatazz in an intimate interface, even whispering something barely audible, “wishes, wishes, wishes, granted.”

And the lake on whose surface Narcissus contemplated his beauty wept, turning itself into a saltwater body of water: “I weep for Narcissus, but I never noticed that Narcissus was beautiful. I weep because, each time he knelt beside my banks, I could see in the depths of his eyes, my own beauty reflected.”

Whatever guise God wears can manifest, shine out in radiant glory in the eyes of the beloved… blessed indeed are the cross-eyed, they see God twice.

Mooched smooches

2011-01-15T03:27:00.000-08:00

“Sexiness wears thin after a while and beauty fades, but to be married to a man who makes you laugh every day, ah, now that's a real treat.”
Joanne Woodward

PAYAK ang pakay ng yakap.

Like a kitten with claws tacked on a clew of yarn I had her summon a protest so kittenish… “Your kids are watching… us.” So the kids learned henceforth that fond affections and fiery tenderness attend sessions of mooching smooches… that’s going through centrifugal oscillations prior to doing centripetal… yes, slow down, stop and smell, deflower.

May nakapupog na pala sa gilid ng leeg kamakailan, hindi napansin na nanlilimahid na yata sa lipstick, breath freshener, mouthwash, disinfectant-flavored ice cream… pero napansin ng suki sa Farmers Market, mataas pa ang araw pero suson-suson na raw ang tuklaw, lapang, sagpang at sakmal ng vampira sa ‘kin… such nerve committing a felony in broad daylight, she muttered…

I reasoned that, indeed, ‘twas broad daylight. Such broad must have been too myopic, why, she whispered a tongue lashing on my neck. She missed, and made a fine mess.

Anupa’t pandalas na dagdag na kaskas, kuskos at kiskis ang sinapit ng leeg mula suki… kawawa na ang nadukutan, mas kawawa pa raw sa misis ang mister na nilunod sa mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Or came head to head and argued tongue to tongue.

Kailangan pang magpasaksak ng anti-rabies or anti-tetanus. Para hindi manigas ang, uh, panga.

Confronted by the household goddess for both decent and indecent extrication, I reasoned that I had to make good on a promise not to go hot under the collar—just under the sheets.

Aah, I always bring with me a kiss-and-make-up kit… how can she throw things at you when you throw her a ton of kisses?

Too, a journalist works in a broad sheet, and often chooses to work in earnest on a broad… even pray, “give us this day our daily broad.”

I thought all along kisses—Hershey’s come in plastic bags— came free with pet dogs; they give a thorough licking on the more vulnerable body parts… pooches mooch smooches, and you can melt as ice cream does, thoroughly licked and slathered even in parts most ticklish.

A bit of a peck on the cheek is deemed genteel form—one has to start somewhere somehow… besides, I deem the dermatology on the derriere a lot smoother, fairer and pimple-free… appreciation for beauty can go more than doggy skin-deep there. That goes as backside compliment for giving both cheeks.

Now turn those cheeks over, uh?

Go deep we shall, dear, since ancients believed that the spirit was carried in one’s breath… all those kisses got us catching our breaths… and kisses tug at the spirit—including a robust 106-proof Kweichow Moutai that packs an equine kick—and supposedly entwine lovers (livers?) spiritually. What a mesh!

I’m not complaining though— kissing can leave you tongue-tied, making sense with the sense of touch and taste, telling how much you can love without saying a word or foaming in the mouth.

What a way to enjoy silence…

फीडिंग फ्रेंज्य

2011-01-12T01:21:00.000-08:00

Feeding frenzy

FEED her mine— uh, mind.

The bit of lapsus lingua is brought about by designs erratic or erotic… and may be loosely translated as lapping up fond mammary, ehek, memory… hi-hi-hi-higop ng sabaw sa tasa, uh, what’s the hidden agenda in a 38C cup but embers that can be stoked to flames?

I was told that Ibaloi natives of Cordillera listen to the silence of lamb chops, lend an ear to titters of baby back ribs or painful cackles of pinikpikang manok… there’s some meaty food for thought that can hush more than hunger in the guts.

Sarap talagang kumain, lalo na kung ikaw ang kakainin… food should be kept hot, o, nag-iinit ka na ba?

Idagdag na nga pati kanta ni Craig David, “What’s Your Flavor?”

Can thoughts of yours be steered toward hearty eating, my dear?

The secret to flavorsome broiled tulingan— skewer with peeled-off fresh guava stick, rub length of fish with ginger and tamarind juice, score sides, season with rock salt, freshly ground black pepper and garlic powder—is to let the fish rest at room temperature for about 18 minutes… enough time for a pray-over or a few mutterings of a Thai love katha… Tagalog equivalent is gayuma to inflame passions of the beloved, maybe induce a state of arousal.

My gramps always floored me with freshwater shrimps—tagunton— lovingly stewed in coconut cream, minced finger chili peppers, grated malunggay roots—it has subtle horseradish notes-- and lots of chopped sour cucumber fruits, yes, kamias.

And who can do a reprise of my grandmother’s pinatisang pata ng baboy? Slow-simmered barely above boiling point so that meat and tendons come nearly tender as butter off the bones. The dish is a soupy variant of paksiw na pata using patis puro—the golden liquid cream skimmed off fish sauce fermentation vats-- instead of soy sauce. Ah, quick-fire cookery is akin to a quickie or premature ejaculation… slow food is lots of tender loving care that really caresses the heart like a sigh or moan of the beloved.

Good taste can be dirt-cheap: a small plastic bag of shucked maratangtang (sea urchin) meat and roe roseate in hue like labia minora and is reputedly an aphrodisiac, that fetches for P20 in Bolinao’s public market… perfect for folding into an egg omelet titivated with minced garlic chives and cherry tomatoes… with a breakfast like that, back to bed, there’s bound to be a workout between the sheets.

An adventure in simplicity: baby milkfish simmered in sour-sweetish palm vinegar, finger chilies, young onion sprigs, fresh ginger, and rock salt to taste… all such on a bed of young guava leaves in an earthen pot.

Now I’m drooling over you, my dear.

मिर्थ डे फॉर Oyayi

2011-01-11T20:48:00.000-08:00

Mirth day for Oyayi

IBUHOS man ang semento sa hulmahang anghel o demonyo, mananatiling semento.

Isalin man ang ang tubig sa plorera, baso, sinisera, orinola, pitsel o lubluban ng kalabaw, mananatiling tubig pa rin.

Essence remains and stays more of the same; the forms can take on guises and disguises.

We’re not exactly enjoying the screwing that bleeds taxpayers every which way, so please shove Cha-cha up yours… cha-cha is tea-tea kaya isalaksak na lang sa mga tumbong n’yo… we’re not changing whores midstream.

Aaminin na hindi mahilig ang inyong imbing lingkod sa chat… which may take on a chatoyant glow when the beloved chat-mate warms up to caressing tenderness of lines… why, “chat” is derived from French for cat. Pussy!

Kaya isang maliyab na pagbati sa aking kinagiliwang katuwang sa sayaw ng tango, Roda Astilla… at lalong maalab na pagpupugay sa mga katuwang sa mas malagablab na sayaw na nagtatagal sa suso pero hindi sa baso— tungga!

Tutungga habang nagliliwaliw ang ikalawang apo—Oyayi—sa Disneyland, Hongkong… for him, it will be a day of birth, a day of mirth. Kiddo, do get gramps a dirt-cheap disc of Yoyo Ma’s cello renditions, or some music rendered on the quaint pentatonic scale, a wee piece of mutton-chop jade or hessonite… any book by Deng Xiao-peng, Zhuge Liang or Mencius, a small figurine of Tsai Shen Yeh riding a tiger, a small print depicting peonies, a dozen or so peacock feathers… uh, erotic is teasing bare-naked beloved with a peacock feather while kinky is trussing her up and teasing her with entire peacock, such a body member can be hot as an ember and spurt lava…

While you’re there with your Anghelola, mom, dad, sister Musa and Tita Jaq, gramps will be in the company of partners in prime and jurors of a nationwide contest for journalists plied out by a Lucio Tan-led outfit… we’ll celebrate, cerebrate, may go inebriate.

As you’ve gone abroad, gramps will likeably, ably go into a broad. Such are pleasures we snuggle in with gusto—infants can do infantry, adults do adultery…

Like water, we flow into places and occupy spaces here and there… but we’ll just run around in circles and won’t be going anywhere unless we journey within… and gramps has taken a lot of such inward travels and travails.

Not the sights and sites we see, it’s the insights we take to heart, give to mind… uh, the technical term is epigenesis; man is but an expression of his inner landscape, we shape ourselves within and give outward guise to such inner shaping.

Ah, grandchildren… and it was sagely Solomon who wrote that they’re the crowns worn by their grandparents. And I must hurl a plaint that such weights bearing on our heads might touch off dislocated neck.

But we now rule as emperors.

Arson orison

2011-01-10T19:27:00.000-08:00

PRICK blank page—or screen—with a pin until pain or paean begins… and blood off one’s veins flows out, spills over the empty surface. That, my dear, is how writing is done.

So with a trowel our mentor/tormentor Raul S. Gonzalez of Bulacan pattered, battened that down into our thick skulls-- piece of cake inflicting such atrocity, all it takes is fine appreciation for or application to carnage, maybe acupuncture or doing prefrontal lobotomy, likely biopsy with an ax on some live carcass over at the Ombudsman.

Not for the squeamish.

‘Andali lang talaga ‘yang pasulat-sulat… kahit sinong gago’t gunggong kaya daw ‘yan… kahit pa galing ang salitang ‘sulat’ sa wika ng mga Arabogli’t Arabobo… solat = dasal, dalangin, oracion.

Sabi nga’y orare est laborare, laborare est orare…

So let us prey as a praying mantis does.

Parang pagtatanim lang pala ang bitiw ng mga kataga, kapag umilandang sa lupa o katawang lupa… nag-uugat, tumutubo, lumalagong tila balahibong pusa sa minumutya o tumatabal na talahib na kinukutya… kaya hindi totoo ‘yung sabi ni Dennis Fetalino, it takes all kinds… pinipili lang talaga ang mga binhi na ipupunla…

Parang muhon na isusuksok matapos sukatin ang lawak ng lupa para matukoy ang mga hangganan ng aangkining ari-arian, uh-duh, don’t you worry my dear, aararuhin at angkinin ko na ‘yang ari mo… sa paglulupa kasi, may aring di-natitinag at may aring natitinag and it makes sense and a lot of loving to know the difference for moaning full, whoopsydaisy, meaningful real estate development.

So let us pray, solat… so, la, ti, do.

The Benedictine monks had it down pat in principle… the how-it’s-done is something else in orare est laborare, laborare est orare… ah, the words are formed and mixed with light at the top of one’s head, then, drawn into the body as breath… goaded down along the spinal column, collected and held firmly at the diaphragm… and expressed out at the dan-tien or that spot two fingers width below the navel…

The method sure peals out a Harlan Ellison opus written at a single night’s sitting in 1966, “I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream.”

Or Boss Gonza himself sagely plying during the unlamented ancien regime, how incendiary expression won’t likely be extinguished in spite of censorship… censors can unmake the writing, but you can still make faces, words and censors won’t get in the way.

So that’s how benediction—blessing or blasting, basting or bashing—is done. And the top of the head won’t take in either the clear or the caliginous, light or darkness unless the energy center at the base of the spine is open for business. Figure that out, Dennis… kailangang bukas ang isipan, bukas ang magkabilang dulo ng gulugod—mula alulod hanggang tulatod-- para dumaloy ang bibitiwang basbas o sumpa.

As Richard Aregood who won the Pulitzer Prize for editorial writing at the Philadelphia Daily News in 1985 balks, “A big thing missing in lots of editorial pages is passion.”

डेप्थ

2011-01-09T22:45:00.000-08:00

Depth of field
THROUGH the tear ducts pass the soul, traipse on to places of the heart as the body rests in slumber. Polynesians believe that.

Kailangan pala na walang muta sa mata para walang sagabal sa pagliliwaliw ng kaluluwa sa kung saan-saang lupalop.

Naniniwala naman ang mga bihasa sa feng shui na magkaugnay ang paningin, puso, at tagumpay sa negosyo… kikita kung titingin nang buong linaw sa nilalaman ng puso, ‘yung tinatawag na 20/20 vision… more so in a looker as a 38-26-36 made visible by sexual contact lenses…

Surah 22 (Al-Hajj): 46, “Verily it is not the eyes that grow blind, but it is the hearts which are in the breasts that grow blind.”

In Egyptian myth, the heart of the deceased is weighed in the scale against the feather of the goddess Ma’at, who personifies Order, Truth, what is right.

Arrhythmic hearts that go on a blackout go dead beat, it’s an epidemic-- cardiac failure or infarction… one of the leading three killers worldwide… warnings off the Quor’an go unheeded.

So we can construe that matapobre has poor eyesight, not the affliction of those who feasts their eyes on glowing cleavage, symptom of a visual impairment called “melon-cholia”…

What about matalino? Uh, a 2005 British study found that “creative types averaged between four and 10 partners.” Was it not a British poet of yore who wrote, “How do I love thee, and thee, and thee? Let me count the, duh, what’s there to count anyways?”

But Dennis Fetalino kept on telling me to go lower, lower where to hurl a glance or stare at… heedful and so far I’ve heard complaints galore— that I’ve been throwing dagger looks that rip to shreds their panties or my eyes convey smoldering passions that stoke body temperature to typhoid and dengue levels or burn down their pants, or the naughty glint in my eyes are live embers that kindle interest in playful arson.

Flee from temptation they all do… after leaving me a forwarding address.

See here bro, all I’ve been doing since is trying to fathom the so-called “depth of field.” Fields like that, in my book as a farmer, need to be plowed, harrowed, irrigated, or inundated—so planting a rise there is always fun.

Between you and me, all I’ve been seeing down there on lookers are chickens that go peck-peck-peck…

Ah, feng shui-assigned zone for recognition, notoriety, accolades, fame, and business success is the south. Sa timog-- pinaikli yatang katumbas ng mga katagang “titimong hamog.”

Upang lapatan ng lunas ang lupaypay na kasikatan o humahapay na kabuhayan, maglagay ng bulaklak ng mirasol (sunflower) o sinturon ng hindi totoong rebentador sa bahaging timog ng pamamahay… mahusay ding panlunas ang pigurin o imahen ng paboreal (peacock), siyam na patalim, siyam na kandilang pula, siyam na panulat… basta matulis na bagay, kaya yata madalas akong itoka ng aking maybahay sa naturang lugar.

Alulong

2011-01-09T18:11:00.000-08:00

“A border collie has learned more than 1,000 words (1,022 toys), showing US researchers that her memory is not only better than theirs, but that she understands quite a bit how language works.”
Agence France Presse, 8 January 2011

MAGLALARO lang siya, kahit mabigat na gawain o hanapbuhay, paglalaruan lang niya—para hindi mahirapan, para hindi magsawa, para laging masaya.

Gano’n ang kakaibang pananaw ng aking pamangkin para makaya ang anuman, ituturing na laruan at pawang palaruan bawat lunan… Homo ludens.

So his father guffaws, tells me I must have infected his son with such a laid-back-- what-me-worry?-- contagion… that, I must have picked up from a Steely Dan standard, “Boddhisattva”—uh, that’s an earth-dwelling deity who goes through everything, acquits himself even over matters of life and death in a jovial spirit of play…

Jovial is derived from a variant name of Jehovah, Jove… so I’ve been taken under the Jehovah’s witness protection program… Thus, the writer of Ecclesiasticus notes that, “the mark of a good heart is a cheerful expression.”

And ‘god’ spelled backwards is… well, ancient Egyptian canine deity Wepwawet rules over royalty, unification rites, and warfare— uh-duh, kaya pala kami pinagsusuot sa leeg ng dog tag… so call my comrades-in-arms, soldadogs…

Chaser, the border collie who made the news in 2010 is a bitch—perra—and it took three years for researchers to figure out that she had command over 1,022 nouns, each one a toy… plus a bevy of verbs which include “nose,” “get” and “paw.”

Take command over a new word each day— 10 years of elementary and high school plus four more years of tertiary education… after college you’ll likely have an army of 5,110, so my composition mentor Jose Sabangan told me.

Hey, the School of Wisdom website posits that it takes a grasp of at least 700 words to get along with others…about 3,000 to get a job; 10,000 to have a place in society… around 60,000 to be in the league of titans like William Shakespeare, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Rabindranath Tagore or Kung Fu-tze…

Vodka neat, no chaser… uh, researchers reckoned that Chaser has cut her canines on more than 1,000 words… maybe more than 3,000 since she’s gainfully employed…

"We can't say anything definitive about this, but there is agreement among breeders," researchers said, pointing to decades of breeding for herding that makes the dogs particularly attuned to learning words. "The hypothesis is that they do have a special propensity to language, they listen to the farmer."

So Chaser plays it by ear… her amassed lexicon is at the level beneath the mastery of will power which corresponds to basic grammar… a notch higher, as the School of Wisdom claims, is word power congruent to mastery of one’s body… mastery of one’s soul entails effective communication… highest in the pecking order is poetry which demands mastery over spirit… not those that come in kegs, decanters, and bottles, like vodka.

We may concur on curs’ lack of will power translates to unconditional love and canine devotion…

तन्दंग

2011-01-08T21:55:00.000-08:00

Tandang padamdam

BEREFT of banner, it’s a flagpole about to plug a hole—that’s what an exclamation point is!

Or that’s the way it figures, so downright sexy and virile… taut and tense as the opening chords of a The Smiths number, “Girlfriend in a Coma.”

Meron pa kasing iba na gumamit ng bansag na “Mangkokolum”—tinuldukan sa dulo. That suggests end of conversation. Or the finality of a sentence, finish.

I wanted finesse and passions running at fever pitch, a sure aim at targets on sight, bloodshot bull’s eyes and dark dead centers held in place by ripples spreading out like the thighs of a cherished dear in surrender to tender ministrations… the old-fashioned Beatles’ ditty, “Fixing a Hole.”

Or to assign a philosophical perspective, it’s a bit about Immanuel Kant thought.

Gano’n ang masidhing sagisag at sigasig na inilapat sa bandilang pangalan ng web log, Mangkokolum!

Singkapang may tigas na tiyak susuksok sa maluwalhating karimlan ng butas… magkapatong, magkaniig, nagtatalik na sagisag ng yin-yang, yoni-lingam… opo, ito ang tinutukoy ng Red Hot Chili Peppers—“deep inside of a parallel yoni-verse, it’s getting harder and harder…”

Gano’n din ang sagisag na nakatanghal sa bandila ng Israel, ang tala ni David… dating pastol na nagtumba sa damulag na Goliath, saltik na ipinilantik, tumama’y lintik…ito ang yata ang pinagmulan ng tayutay na bato-bato sa langitngit, tamaan ay kailangang magpa-dialysis… and it was King David’s paramour from whom the family lineage of Jesus was descended— profane, profound.

So naughty, so nutty.

Titigan, titigan… kikislot, kikisap ang isa pang larawang masisipat mula sa naturang bantas na nagbabadya ng matinding damdamin… ah, punla ng halaman na itutulos sa dibdib ng lupang dinukal.

And such a mundane task speaks of unbridled passions in boteny—whoopsydaisy!-- botany rather. I’m an agronomist, apothecary, more of a gardener longing for a lust Eden.

Saka pulos reklamo lang naman ang natatanggap sa mga masugid na nakasubaybay sa inyong imbing lingkod… pinakahuling binabasa ang aking pitak sa mga pahayagang kinalilimbagan, ‘hirap daw kasing masapol agad ang kahulugan… may inaabot ng maghapon sa paulit-ulit na basa, paulit-ulit din na hahagalpak ng tawa… may inaabot daw ng sanlinggo, babalik-balikan…

Maglulupa po ako. Naghahalaman ng kaalaman. Naghahasik pa rin ng mga binhi at punla… May mga punlang titilapon sa batuhan at makapal na damuhan, sumibol man, tiyak na matatabunan. May mga masasadlak sa lupang nasinop—ang iba’y makukutkot pa nga ng ibon, pero may mga tutubo’t lalago.

So there, that ought to explain the point that needed to be XXX-claimed.

Mwa-ha-ha-haw!

QWERTY…

2011-01-08T18:43:00.000-08:00

UMAAPOY pala ang puso’t puson na isinakay sa mga eroplanong papel. Pero hindi naman nasunog ang magkalapit na bahay na paulit-ulit na binagsakan ng kung ilang eroplano-- bawat isa’y liham ng pagmamahal, kasunduan, at pakikipagtipan.

Natuklasan na lang ang hiwaga ng mga eroplano nang magtanan na ang lihim na magkatipan… pinag-ugnay, pinagbigkis ang mga damdamin ng eroplanong papel…

Kung ako siguro ang kainitan sa pusok ng tusok at tuhog sa mga taon ng 1960, tiyak na boka-boka— sled kite, ‘yung walang balangkas na saranggola—ang pinalipad para maipahatid sa kasuyo ang pinagnanasaan… how aptly symbolic and intensely telling such a message from the heart, boka-boka… para ipasok ang pusok, dapat talaga ibuka.

Lumipas na ang panahon ng payak na abakada… ngayon nga, AB-ZTE-FG $329-million national broadband network scandal na ni hindi pinansin ng mga nasa Ombudsman… na baka tawagin nang Ohbadwoman…

Connectivity remains the ball game in the age of digital information— iPad, eBay, e-mail (me at tagakataga@yahoo.com, habalakibur@hotmail.com), Google, Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, Jobstreet… clitourist.blogspot.com… nearly everything at your fingertips tapping appropriate letters on a QWERTY keyboard.

People still do the content of their communications; the national broadband network provides the platform for lines of connectivity. Say, I can send a text message from my desktop computer to a friend’s cell phone anywhere in the world… or while at my work post at home, join a press conference…

Connectivity has never been easier.

But you still have to connect the dots as my granddaughter Musa does with crayons and coloring books… with hands and mind firm, set lines out… scrawl on colors of your choice to ease the drab dull areas.

And that’s not so easy.

T-teka, lintek na Adlai na matagal na kabungguan ng bote at bumbunan noon sa Tomas Morato Avenue, itinoka na pala ng Inquirer sa Cebu ang damuho… tiyak na doon naman maghahasik ng lagim ‘yon.

Pero bago nagpunta sa kanyang destino, inalam sa mga kaibigan ang numero ng cellphone ko… matagal na rin kasi kaming hindi nagkikita. He came unannounced at my usual Makati haunt one evening, badgered my beer buddies for my number… likely he wants to keep in touch. Madalas siyang sumali sa mga quiz shows, appointed me as his “lifeline” who gets to tackle the toughest questions.

It’s a lot tougher to keep in touch, dear.

Touch. Dampi ng haplos. Masuyong himas. Maapoy na lamas… It’s done hands-on, not through the extensions provided by the platform of connectivity.

We’ll see. We’ll see each other, dear… Kuwentuhan? Kuwentu… tandaan: gagawa pa rin ng boka-boka para matindi ang pahiwatig-- para ipasok ang pusok, dapat talaga ibuka.

Sipa

2011-01-07T22:11:00.000-08:00

NABAGSAKAN ng batong buhay sa sapa, putol ang isang buto sa daliri ng kaliwang paa… at the hospital where I was goaded into going, it had to be told that the left foot kept smarting… and if it keeps on doing so, it may get smarter and smarter and ask to be sent to graduate school, or worse, every digit be listed up as legitimate voter.

Wheeled in for confinement, my opinion about room temperature was sought by a shapely nurse aide, “Would like it warmer or colder, sir?”

Instant wicked retort: “Gusto ko hot na hot! Good for camaraderie and bedminton, let’s turn up the heat.”

That sent her in stitches… it would have been most appropriate in such inconceivable occasion for her to be without a stitch on… that’s conducive to a hard-on.

(That was a senior moment: I thought she wanted it rough, was asking to be pinioned, uh, and that’s still an honest opinion.)

Enero 17, 2010 ang ikalawang araw sa ospital, isinilang doon ang ikalawang apo, si Oyayi!

“Persons born on the 8th, 17th or 26th of any month represent Saturn-- ruler of fate and giver of pain and misery. They are tall with thick hair; walk facing the ground, respect family prestige… are calm, simple, duty-bound, patient, untiring, studious at work, reserved in talk and measure the words as they possess higher wisdom.” That suits my grandson who’ll get to learn on his gramps’ knees in the days to come…

Uh, quite tough growing if there’s difficulty in going—kaya kahit iika-ika, nagtutungo pa rin sa silid ng mag-ina para makita ang apo… na ipagdiriwang nga ang unang kaarawan sa taong ito.

Balik-tanaw na rin pati sa nabaling buto—buto as in bone. Puwede na uling maglaro ng sipa, sipa as in kick… titigas talaga at titibay ang mga hita at binti sa pasipa-sipa. Sa mga bisig nga’y kailangang magtakal ng tig-100 kaldag… pero dalawang sipa lang yata, sipa, sipa or kick, kick… teka muna, bakit iba yata ang tumitigas?

Pero sa pulitika, meron ngang tinatawag na paraan para magkamal ng limpak… sipa at tiyaga—in short, kickbacks.

Matapos nga ang kakatwang aksidente, pinagbawalan na ang inyong imbing lingkod na magtungo pa sa sapa na kalapit sa aming tahanan sa Bulacan… humahango do’n ng tubig na isinasalin sa imbakan ng La Mesa Dam… baka raw kasi subukan kong buhusan ng kung anumang pamuksang biochemical weapons ang tubig, mwa-ha-ha-haw!

Professions of undying love, invitations to wine tasting sessions, paternity suits, e-tickets for two to Coron or Busuanga, notifications of dividends on shares of stocks and other useful things may be sent to habalakibur@hotmail.com.

Hoi pollo loco

2011-01-07T18:30:00.000-08:00

IN a five-year peace process scheme with insurgents, the government needs to splurge them… a three-year eat-all-you-can supply of fastfood fare—soft drinks, burgers, chicken, and what have you… at sa matitirang dalawang taon, dapat na tustusan ang kanilang pangangailangan sa facial cosmetics and cleansers plus other beauty products including discount cards at gay bars.

The first three years of pigging out on such a diet surely besets them with diabetes, osteoporosis, obesity, hypertension, weak hearts, wrecked adrenals and immune systems, at the least… pero ang pinakamatinding dagok sa kanilang hanay, they’ll likely turn into screaming faggots or macho gays… who are sure to fall for and surrender to the fiery, steely charms of government soldiers.

That’s how to wage—and win-- a dietary low-intensity conflict… indulge them while laying siege to their hearts, minds and body biochemistry entire through their tummies… that’s how to hide daggers in a smile, the madness of method in killing with knives borrowed from kitchens of fastfood chains.

Sabi nga’y masisima kahit isdang dapa sa bukana, este, sa bunganga—kapag inasinta sa sikmura.

Lumalabas sa mga ulat na tigmak sa estrogen—the female signaling hormone—ang ipinapakain sa manok, baboy at iba pang assembly line livestock upang mabilis na bumulas, tumaba’t maipagbili sa madaling panahon… para tipid sa gastos ng matagalang pagpapalaki.

The hormone remains in livestock flesh… sasalin sa katawan ng mahilig lumantak sa mga putaheng fastfood… hormones accumulate, reach critical levels in the body… parang hormone replacement therapy sa losyang na Lola Basyang ang mangyayari…

Sa isang nakalkal na ulat: ‘All this estrogen in your body can cause prostate cancer, heart disease, impotence, and a host of other problems. And, it can gradually “castrate" you.

‘It can "feminize" your body and wreak havoc on your sex life.

‘It's not just "man boobs" you have to worry about. Excess estrogen can make you fat, slow, and tired too.’

So this is a roundabout way of explaining to a beer buddy who’s been wondering aloud for ages, “Hindi naman nabubuntis ang mga binabae pero bakit dumadami sila?”

Fastfood fare is cheap, a hit with the hoi polloi… pero kahit makatipid sa gastos sa pagkain, tiyak na gagastos naman ng mas malaki sa pagpapagamot.

Baka naman ang talagang pinupuntirya ng mga ganitong pagkain, mabawasan ang bilang ng populasyon… at kikita pa nga ng limpak sa bentahan ng gamot, why, anti-hypertensive medications alone is a $90-billion yearly earner for pharmaceutical outfits…

Thank heavens for odd feeding habits, I’m still strong as an ant, very much alive and kinky—mas busog-lusog kasi na kumain ng exotic seafood tulad ng sardinas, tahong, talaba, tulya, halaan… basta bumuka, lantak na.

RETRATODO

2011-01-07T01:38:00.000-08:00

PUMARADA ang mga retrato, sunod-sunod, pero napahikab lang ang kumag… ‘lang kuwentang palabas, walang… putang ama!

Titigok na pala siya. Mga larawang hango sa kanyang buhay ang isa-isang lumiliyab…

Pinanood ang mga retrato. ‘Yon at ‘yon at ‘yon ang nakita.

Nanood at nanood at nanood lang naman siya— laging nakatunganga, usisero, laging miron lang sa mga nangyayari… pulos daldal, pulos laway.

Pinanood niya ang kanyang panonood.

Tagal. Napakatagal. Walang nangyayari.

‘Kakabagot. ‘Kakainip. Pulos gano’n lang?

Walang romansa…’lang libog. ‘Lang katatakutan o lagim… kahit nabuong pantasya o bangungot. ‘Lang sininop na pagkain sa sikmura’t isipan… ‘Lang aksiyon o kahit katiting na salpukan, pulos daldal… urirat kung ano na’ng ginawa (mamaliitin, pipintasan, lalaitin) ng nasa kalapit na bakuran… Wala lang.

Pero gano’n talaga bago matodas—paparada sa isipan lahat at lahat ng larawan ng naging buhay… kahit pa walang katuturan, walang kabuhay-buhay na buhay.

Bakit maghahanap ng magandang mapapanood kung wala namang magandang natupad? Sino bang gumawa ng lintek na iskrip na ‘to kundi siya mismo? Nilalangaw lang. Sino ba’ng direktor nito? Sino’ng may pakana ng ganitong ‘kakaantok na walang patumanggang katangahan?

Pero hindi maipipikit ang mga mata sa panonood… ni hindi mang-uusig ang mga nakalantad na larawan.

Walang napundar o pinagsikapan kahit katiting na mga ari-arian… walang binuong mga kasangkapan na pakikinabangan… nagpalaki lang ng bayag pero ni hindi kumiskis ‘yon sa puday, hindi makapagbilang ng mga babaeng pinatikim ng kaligayahan—mas astig pa ‘yung asong gala, nakarami ng inanakan, may mga sinila, nilapang.

Mas matindi pa pala ‘yung tutulog-tulog na pusa… mga kuko, igtad at igpaw ng katawan ang laging ihinahasa… nagiging bihasa.

Titigok na pala siya. Babawian ng buhay na walang kabuhay-buhay… mas mahusay pa pala ang manok na nagkutkot ng kahit anong butil at bulate sa lupa… mas magaling pala ang manok na putak lang nang putak kapag nangitlog.

Mas matikas pa ang pawikan na hindi man pumutak, maghuhukay sa aplaya, maglalagak ng susunod na salinlahi… saka muling lalangoy patungong laot, maglalakbay sa kung saan-saan, tutuklas ng kung anu-ano…

Ano ba ‘tong tambak ng retratong ipinapalabas mandin para panoorin? ‘Kakapika, walang nangyayari… pulos katsang, pulos ngawa, pulos reklamo’t angal… anong klaseng buhay ‘to?

Ba’t binuhay pa ‘tong ganitong tao? Pampasikip na asungot lang ang ipinapel sa mundo…

Mas mabuti pa pala ang bulate’t mikrobyo, pinagyaman nila ang lupang kinalagakan… nagpayabong ng samut-saring halaman…

Sige, buntunan ng sisi ang sarili… buhusan ng balde-baldeng pintas-lait-libak-mura… sa mga huling sandali ng sariling buhay, ipaparada ang mga retrato ng ginampanan at ginanap sa buhay.

Lintik na palabas, pero sino ba ang gumagawa ng sariling buhay—hindi naman ‘yung mga nasa kalapit na bahay…

‘Kakabagot. ‘Kakainip. Pulos gano’n at gano’n lang?

Humahagalpak sa halakhak si Kamatayan.

Dentally deranged

2011-01-05T22:38:00.000-08:00

LEAVE mangy mongrels to rip each other’s throats as they sink fangs at any bone of contention, keep your peace chewing cud or crisp strips of bacon as ruminants do.

As feng shui lore has it, “the teeth relate to stating your needs, wants, desires and your individual creative expression.”

The area tied to mouth, gums, molars, gnawing and knowing, suet and sweets: west. It’s feng shui designated zone for creativity, children, and projects… the dental ties in nicely with the mental… uh, blabbermouths of less than lofty attainments of the mind accurse themselves, bring all sorts of sickness on themselves by hanging out in such parts where good ole Sol sets…

Sound thought and tooth can be a stranger to both friction and fiction… more so if you’ve got molar qualms or suffer from mendicant thoughts, sure, enunciate it loud and clear, mendicant thoughts are impoverished thoughts.

A steady beer buddy of ours won’t own up to suspicions that he’s often armed to the teeth, why, he’ll remind you of an Ernest Hemingway classic— “A Farewell to Arms.”

Not exactly a scatter-brained chap, he’s not likely to see an orthodontist… and ask to be fitted, so risk a bad case of malocclusion with mental braces.

Teeth are hard—they fall away… tongue is soft, so it lingers, often at the labia to tease out mind-blowing thrills. And if you’ve got a full set of dentures as any warty toad or frog—filthy rotten old goat—does, why, you need not lie through your teeth… you can lie through and through…

So peddle lies and there’ll be hell to pay… there shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth. To the smart aleck poser, “What if we don’t have teeth like the laws of the Philippines that can’t throw the book or throw in jail a scheming pencil pusher and bead counter like Carlos Garcia?”

Our beloved departed columnist Manuel F. Martinez quickly retorts: “Teeth will be provided.”

Hopefully, those rows of teeth would be on a chain saw, the sort of cutting implement wielded by the Ampatuan clan of Maguindanao in butchery… and they’ll tell the courts the whole tooth and nothing but the tooth, pwe-he-he-he!

Dearest… spare me your aching thought… and if you’re having second thoughts, second thoughts, second thoughts—that’s too lewd and loud and just like this old geezer, he ought to be obscene and not heard.

So keep in mind this nugget of feng shui lore: “the teeth relate to stating your needs, wants, desires and your individual creative expression.”

Heartstrings

2011-01-05T18:31:00.000-08:00

WE thrum… all the time, sounding and sending an array of notes in the ambient air. Such notes resonate in certain persons sounding and sending a similar chord, the same array of notes— and a gathering of two (or more) of such kindred spirits touch off music of their own spheres, a seamless blending… melding, welding, even a symphony in unison.

Some unheard-of scientific stuff to point up why like attracts like, how come birds of the same feather fly together, why do certain couples make sweet music while others don’t, why there’s such a thing as love at first insight…

That explains why we hit—and heat—it up, dear… and we have barely made a decent (and indecent) or recent conversation, haven’t we?

With nary a pipsqueak, I repair into a fleabag of a motel room in Sta. Cruz or Pasay… and within minutes, transients of nearby rooms are in jitters, in, ah, turmoil, affected by a threatening presence… tila mga uod sa pusalian na nabagsakan ng tipak ng nagliliyab na bulalakaw…

Ah, ‘twas the zealot Paul of Tarsus who can offer an explanation— brilliance repels those who dwell in darkness.

Nakakarami ng inom kahit noon, aanyayahan ng kainuman na sa kanyang tahanan magpalipas ng magdamag… and bawling kids in the household are hushed into a calm, even without seeing me invade their abode… my host and his missus are stumped, and often ask me to stay past my welcome…

Accursed foreboding of extirpation… blessed soothing presence… I am both. Leave it up to you, my dear, to pick your wish.

“I know that someday you’ll want me to want you.”

That’s the opening line of the first love ditty that I learned when I was barely three years old (uh, my two-year old granddaughter still amazes me, she sings ‘Think of Me’ from Phantom of the Opera)… and I had to sing that note-perfect, pauses appropriate (“bibig dapat bumibigkas saka bumibigwas”) and enunciation proper. Or else my tongue would be rubbed on with crushed red hot chili pepper… that taught me to carry tunes borne of arson thereafter, nah, I’m no torch singer.

Lagi kitang kausap dahil lagi kitang kaisip. Magsasama palagi sa usapan at isipan.

There. A dozen or so words have barely passed between us… and words don’t count since they’re not to be counted but weighed… tinitimbang talaga kaya yata P2.50 bawat kataga ang karaniwang bayad sa mga sulating ipinapagawa sa pusakal na nagsusulat… and the heart speaks volumes when the lips are hushed.

So we speak our minds—the mindless only engage in inane chatter… better yet, speak out with our hearts in so few words, terse and tense… such a transaction turns to transformation.

We’ll hit if off. And heat it up.

तगालोग एडिटर वांटेड

2011-01-04T00:55:00.000-08:00

Wanted: Tagalog editor

DAGDAG na kulubot at lubot sa Year of the Metal Rub It, o ikiskis kung ‘di kayang isiksik.

Katuwaan na lang ang subok na padala ng resumè sa nangangailangan raw ng patnugot para magkatam-kinis sa mga sulatin ng kanilang kawan ng tagasulat… sawa na kasi sa hanap ng papasukan—muwang, guwang, puwang, o luwang-- ipinaubaya na sa papasukan ang paghahanap sa ‘kin… nakangisi nang makahulugan ang Benny Antiporda at Roy Mabasa… parang ligawan: sa halip manligaw, magpaligaw, turn the tables on ‘em then smash those tables on their heads.

Pasintabi na Ka Jerry Yap… pero wala rin po akong balak na mapasama sa mga maghahasa sa mga mag-aaral ng peryodismo sa National Press Club… journalism isn’t taught, it’s fought in our strangled neck of the woods… and those wannabe journalism professors and toddling journalists might as well be sent to boot camp for a year to appreciate the basics of infantry engagement… the four F’s—find ‘em, FIX ‘em, finish ‘em, fu.. ‘em… which is what journalism has become hereabouts that has turned the Philippines into the world’s most dangerous place for knowledge workers.

‘Yung pasulatan yata na nagpatalastas sa Jobstreet.com naghahagilap daw ng editor sa mga sulating Tagalog… dalawa-sampera na po ang mga patnugot sa naturang wika, madali nang magsalpak ng kahit sinong sampay-bakod sa ganyang trabaho… marami ngang sumasablay na sa sahod, asahang dadagsa sa inyo ang bata-batalyong aplikante, lalo na ‘yung mga walang tahid at wala pang sungay…

Pero sa mga tulad kong may sungay—horny as hell, too—na Diablolo na ngayon, tiyak na susuwag at susuwag.

The trouble with grizzled veterans and also-rans is that their level of skills or incompetence can command higher pay…

And as the slaughter of writers in the infamous November 2009 Ampatuan Carnage points up, writing is tantamount to crime that doesn’t pay… uh, certain crimes like plunder and graft have been upheld by the Ombudsman as the sort of felony that pay handsomely after plea bargaining deals.

Nakakalungkot pa nga na sa isang bansang higit na sa may 95 milyon ang populasyon, wala pang limang milyon ang sama-samang bilang ng mga limbag na babasahin… kulang na cool ka na lang.

At kapag ganyan na kalaki ang populasyon na lulusong sa Taon ng Kuneho, baka ang peryodismo ay maging masinsinang tutok sa monthly period mismo ng kasiping… mas masarap na magsiping pero mahirap nang magsupling… make love, not babies.

Kaya ulitin natin ang isang payo sa mga naghahangad na pumalaot sa larangan ng pagsusulat ng mga ulat— there’s a lot more impact and a lot more rewarding to write ransom notes.

सी, क्रिसमस इस गोने पस्त!

2011-01-03T21:49:00.001-08:00

I banged out this editorial for Journal's December 25 issue:

A crossed out Christ in Xmas

When Oliver Cromwell and his Puritan hordes took over England in 1645, they went to work with proverbial zeal of zealots in a try to rid England of graft and decadence. As part of their efforts to bring back so-called sanity and order in the land, they canceled Christmas.

English separatists that came to America in 1620 outdid Cromwell. From 1659 to 1681, Christmas wasn’t just skipped but was actually outlawed. Anyone exhibiting the Christmas spirit, probably someone who imbibed too much alcoholic spirits caught trudging, crawling or such behavior under the influence-- he was fined five shillings.

Puritans pointed out the obvious—the Bible doesn’t cite a specific date for the birth of infant Christ. Besides, neither Christ nor his adopted parents Mary and Joseph—include the Vatican-- could produce a National Census and Statistics Office-type validated document fixing December 25 as date of Christ’s live birth.

That means Christ has to present tons of documents and zillions of identification cards (that’s how we do it here in the Philippines ) for a try at late registration of live birth.

That means we can altogether scrap, skip, or throw out the window the celebration of Christ’s birthday.

Or maybe deem such red-letter day as a moveable feast which can be celebrated any given day.

That also means Christmas can be celebrated 365 days a year.

Any day can be Christmas. No need to binge on intoxicating spirits. No need to pig out on holiday fare. No need to ply out garish tinsel and glaring lights that can pump up electricity bills and jack up crude import payments. Christmas can be pared down to its essence--- it’s plain mess sans Christ.

As a word, our pasko connotes the ‘paschal’—specifically the sacrificial spotless lamb slaughtered, its blood painted before the main door of a Jewish household, the carcass broiled without salt and dished out to be partaken by household members on that historic night when the Angel of Death swooped down and harvested every first-born in Egypt . Thus, pasko faintly echoes the Passover feast and wholesale killing.

Interestingly, Christ’s death on the cross coincides with that quaint holiday celebrated by Jews.

Batay sa ganitong katuturan ng katagang Pasko, hayaan ninyong bumati kami sa lahat: Mapayapa at makabuluhang Pasko ng Pagkabuhay sa Semana Santa ang hangad namin sa sambayanang Pilipino!

Uh, Orthodox Greek celebrate Christmas this January 7.

Eating the proof

2011-01-03T20:08:00.000-08:00

YOU are what you ingest… way down to your grandchildren.

Thank goodness, the grandchildren don’t look a bit Australian, in jest and in earnest a warm mammal like me takes to pigging out on the downy under and udder—so delicately fingerin’ and lickin’ luscious.

It turns out, more findings show, that grandchildren are most affected by their grandparents’ nutrition intake… such a quirk of epigenetic hardwiring that turn up in a grandchild’s body capacity to process and avail nutrients in food— call that metabolism… even that is a hand-me-down body capability, the metabolic phenotype programming.

Woe is me! Granddaughter can flash a wicked smile that can sunder a city… grandson has arson in his eyes that can render to cinders every hindrance to naked surrender of feminine parts…

Plant breeder Luther Burbank had it figured out in pointing up that change in a generation of children begins with their grandparents… and he came to such a conclusion in his all-consuming work on developing and improvement of plant species.

With such findings, research has to keep tabs on gramps nutrition exposure history— proof of the eating-- in a bid to rewire the wry sins and ease the epidemiology that comes to afflict the grandchildren.

How the diet was cast—gramps ate with gusto whatever was tucked in pantries and panties.

What leftovers could have been in those pantries… southern comforts and comfort food?

(1) A sweetish soup of bitter gourd leaves sauté with smoked fish flakes.
(2) Fermented raw mustard leaves with broiled catfish or mudfish.
(3) Cold rice doused with fresh carabao’s milk, drizzled with coarse salt grains.
(4) Steamed eggplants with fermented rice/fish combo.
(5) Salad of minced mango flower buds, shallots, ginger, and tomatoes drizzled with fish sauce.
(6) Kinilaw na labanos—chopped radish root and leaves simmered in palm vinegar with pork liver, heart, and sweetbreads with generous shower of freshly ground peppercorns.
(7) Quick-boiled soup of immature white gourd, wild mushrooms, and a stub of fresh ginger root.
(8) Seedless young tamarind fruits steamed atop a small bowl of shrimp paste.
(9) Young stalks of elephant’s ear aroid (Tagalog name, pungapong) stewed in rice washings, saluyot or native jute, fish sauce and unripe santol.
(10) Mamangkal or acrid guamachil pulp stewed with horseradish tree fruits and leaves, rice washings seasoned with tomatoes, ginger, shallots, and fish paste.

There. My mother ran a cafeteria that catered to staff and workers of a textile factory near our home back in the 1960s… and most of them thrived on meat dishes that weren’t to my liking. De gustibus non est disputandum.

Mom had drilled me earlier in a book that bore the title, “Pepe and Pilar.” I had committed its contents to heart and found hearty comestible in pepe ni Pilar… why, I was taught to read between the line and construed that in the native tongue as pagbasa sa nasa pagitan ng guhit… nabasa naman, indeed proof of the eating is a soaking wet pudding.

Presents

2011-01-02T03:30:00.000-08:00

NEITHER colorful wraps nor ribbons came with the presents— say, a bat caught in Gilda Cordero-Fernando’s garden, a water-dwelling snake bought at P100 from a peddler in Quiapo, a box turtle that fetched P60 from a Cartimar store… what impish dad could have contrived a Pandora’s Box for his kids?

The bat kindled wonders and gales of glee with its subsonic cries for a day or two before flying off for its usual haunts—must have found its way back into the same garden where it was caught.

That snake wasn’t as shy or peaceable as an inland taipan—the world’s deadliest, a drop of its venom drops dead an elephant or a dozen Abu Sayyaf bandits—and was given the moniker Qabbalah, after that archetypal serpent hung atop a pole in the wilderness to bring healing to snake-bitten wayfarers.. ‘twas a source of pride and joy and weekly guppy catching chores to keep it fed…

Gamera—after the movie monster who breathed nuclear fumes and did interstellar travel via jet propulsion-- was the name dubbed on the box turtle… that shared a quaint discovery—she left a heart-shaped bruise on the skin that she bit onto. She was turned into a conversation piece, drawing other children of nearby households to marvel at such a homely critter.

Bruce the bunny rabbit wasn’t bruised-- she was squashed dead, sat on like Lewis Carroll’s hare that took Alice to Wonderland.

Like that bat, most of the gifts didn’t cost much, ah, the delicately scented white orchid plucked off a pine tree branch… those dragonflies caught among grasses with a sudden flick of the hand… the bag of field frogs snared with a ring of earthworms lowered by a line among bushes in wallow-studded pastures… June beetles shaken off their leafy roost and those matchboxes of fighting spiders… these can be had for a song, uh, let’s add a passionate precociousness plus keen powers of observation and quick-as-a-wink hand reflexes that a tightwad can’t possibly have.

“Every child should have mud pies, grasshoppers, water-bugs, tadpoles, frogs, mud-turtles, elderberries, wild strawberries, acorns, chestnuts, trees to climb, brooks to wade in, water-lilies, woodchucks, bats, bees, butterflies, various animals to pet, hay-fields, pine cones, rocks to roll, sand, snakes, huckleberries and hornets; and any child who has been deprived of these has been deprived of the best part of his education.

“By being well acquainted with all these they come into most intimate harmony with nature, whose lessons are, of course, natural and wholesome.”

Plant breeder Luther Burbank claims further that such can “give the child pointed lessons in punctuation as well as caution and some of the limitations as well as the grand possibilities of life… by each new experience with homely natural objects the child learns self-respect and also to respect the objects and forces which must be met.”

Web log entry #152

2010-12-30T18:47:00.000-08:00

SANA ay Amihan ang kanyang pangalang
Ambon ng hininga sa sinapupunan…
Binhing isinudsod ng sulo sa guwang
Dinilig ng tala, ng tula at tanglaw…

Sana ay Amihan yaring isiniksik
Ng titis sa liyab ng labing pusikit…
Pagsuyong dumampi kagyat ding umalis...
Hindi nagpaalam ang lintek na paslit!

No egret (it’s a stork?) or regret. What’s done is done—do some more… there’s something of a must-do in karatedo echoing there, “Learn. Then learn some more.” H’wag tatantanan ang salin-kaalaman sa diwa’t laman. Hindi kasali sa ganitong tagubilin ang gunggong.

Nananalig naman tayo Fetalino, Garafil, Gene de Leon, Paul Gutierrez, Willy Valdez at Baun saka iba pang katoto-- “man proposes, God disposes”… kaya kalimutan ‘yang mga resolusyon na abot-kayang pipitpitin, pipilitin at pipilipitin sa 2011… Sabi nga: “There's too much resolution pollution and too little self-appreciation.

“Walking among trees can make you famous,” dagdag pa ni feng shui counselor Kathryn Webber… kaya dapat na dalasan ang pasyal sa lilim ng mga punongkahoy… pero naipagpaliban ang paglilipat ng ilang binhi ng paminta, pili, atemoya at dayap sa tinutuluyang lupalop sa Falar, Bolinao, Pangasinan… hindi pa kasi handa sa mahabang biyahe ang mga binhing paminta.

History is what’s done. Destiny is what’s to be done…

Want to swallow a feel-good wallow? Look back at what you’ve done, uh, that’s a decade that just went… at kung nagpalaki lang ng bayag sa kapuputak—todo ngawa walang gawa-- sa pagdaan ng mga panahon at taon, tiyak na elephantiasis at kung anu-anong kumplikasyon ang kalagayan ngayon ng gunggong.

Craving for a bracing plunge? Look ahead at what you challenged yourself doing.

At tala-talaksan ang mga naghihintay na punla ng iba pang puno na ililipat sa iba pang lupalop… nakatakda ngang pangasiwaan, pangalagaan ng inyong imbing lingkod sa 2011… balik sa paglulupa at racket science, astronomy and agronomy stand out in the agenda for the Year of Chemistry.

Ika-152 sulatin ‘to na isinilid sa aking web log… napakalayo ang agwat sa mga taon ng dekada 1980 ng pambubulahaw sa mga kalapit na bahay sa walang humpay na tikatik-ulan ng mga aserong teklado ng makinilya, walang pinipiling oras maghapon at magdamag sa pagbuno sa mga sulatin sa papel… P0.10 bawat kataga ang bayad noon… yeah, a word at ten cents worth… with so much noise and racket swilling out of a Triumph typewriter which I have kept like a priceless relic of halcyon days… a pile of prizewinning writings were trotted out from that contraption.

Mga simoy ng amihan na dumating sa yugtong iyon ang mga supling, pawang karugtong ng hininga… getting by on ten cents worth a word borne of wits, ways and wiles in tempered steel clacking away at all hours.

There’s not much noise but still a lot of racket banged out of my desktop these days… Standard pay’s now P2.50 a word… and a lot of racket to be made.

Still at it with karatedo… the kuro obi rank was earned sometime in the 1960s… So I have learned, then I learned some more. Knowledge doesn’t take up too much space… just a narrow ledge, a sharp edge in knowledge to gingerly tread through.

Have earned, earned some more, will earn a lot more.

There’s no new year, only a continuum of time— so make the best of time to stand the test of time.

उलो

2010-12-30T18:40:00.000-08:00

Ulo-ulo

(Written for my column in the nationally circulated tabloid Banat in 2002)

HIGIT sa 100 babae at lalaking mandirigma ang kabilang sa kilabot na Squadron 77 ng Hukbong Bayan Laban sa Hapon (Hukbalahap). Nilinis nila ang malaking bahagi ng bansa sa mga dungis na kumubkob dito. Nilaplap ng tingga ang mga elemento at kakutsaba ng Japanese Imperial Army na sumaklot sa Gitnang Luzon mula 1942 hanggang 1945.

Magiliw na sinalubong nila ang hukbong Amerikano sa huling yugto ng okupasyon sa bansa ng mga Hapones noong 1945. Gulantang ang Gitnang Luzon: dinisarmahan ng hukbong Amerikano ang Squadron 77. Dinakip. Saka ipinagkanulo sa mga dating kasabwat ng mga mananakop na dorobo. Walang awang pinuksa ang buong pangkat ng Hukbalahap. Iginuhit sa apoy ng tingga at danak ng dugo ang kasaysayan ng Squadron 77.

Pagpihit ng kasunod na dekada, pangunahing tagapayo sa paglipol sa mga nalalabing Huk ang naging papel ng Joint US Military Advisory Group o JUSMAG. Kabilang sa ipinayong paraan para lupigin ang mga huling bakas ng Hukbalahap: lapatan ng presyo bawat ulo ng mga lider-Huk.

At isa-isang napigtas sa kani-kaniyang leeg ang mga ulo ng pinuno ng katutubong kilusan na sumagip sa bansa sa sakmal ng mga sakang.
--o0o—

Tinadyakan ng Senado nitong 1991 ang mahigit sandaang taon ng pang-aamuyong ng US sa bansa sapul 1898. Nabago ang ihip ng hangin sa yugtong ito ng pambansang kasaysayan.

Iba ang pumasok na hangin sa bumbunan ng panguluhang GMA. Pinadagsa ang mga Kano sa bansa. Para muling pumapel na dakilang alalay at tagapayo ukol sa mga suliraning panloob ng Pilipinas.

Hindi man pakinabangan at talagang inutil si Uncle Sam para gumiri sa mga bansang gustong sumunggab sa Spratly Islands , baka umubrang ipanakot sa mga bandidong naglipana sa ating lupain. Baka sakaling mapatay sa sindak ang buong pangkat nina Abu Sabayawak at Abukakiki Salsalari.

Pansinin na mahilig pumatong ang mga sundalong Kano . Ito ang sanhi ng pagsulpot ng mga industriyang pahiga -- o patuwad -- sa paligid at kanugnog na lugar ng US military installations sa bansa.

Patong din ang napipisil na paraan ng US para lapatan ng lunas ang sakit ng ulong hatid nina Sabayawak at Salsalari. Patungan ng presyo ang kani-kanilang ulo.

Lumang tugtugin: tinipa na sa panahon nina Kumander Alibasbas at William J. Pomeroy ng Hukbalahap; kinakapa pa rin ngayon sa paninibasib ng Abu Sayyaf.
--o0o—

Lumabas na bawat metro parisukat ng bansang Vietnam ay nasalpakan ng bomba ng hukbong US nitong nakalipas na Vietnam War. Ganoon ang nakagawiang paraan ng pakikidigma ng US . Siyempre, nasalanta ang kabuuan ng lupain ng bansang dinigma.

Malinaw ang naging bunga ng naturang pamamaraan – na itinuturo sa atin. Todo-lakas man ang kanilang makabagong armas, umuwing talunan sa Vietcong ang tropa ni Uncle Sam. Talaga: it’s not the firepower behind the man that counts, the willpower of the man waging the war does. It’s the man, not the gun, stupid.

Pinatakam na naman tayo ng tropang US nang idispley ang kanilang samut-saring modernong kagamitan sa pakikidigma. Pinamagatang “Balikatan” ang naturang pagpapakitang-gilas sa sanrekwang armas. Ipinahiwatig na gagawing live target practice ang masusumpungang katropa nina Sabayawak at Salsalari sa pagdaraos ng Balikatan.

Nitong huli, “Pulikatan” ang naging pamagat ng pagsasanay. Kahit nalunod na noon pa, nakasinghap nang konti ang industriyang nakahiga’t nakatuwad sa pagpasok ng tropang Kano – they also kept on pulling down panties while they pulled our legs. Nagpagoyo ba naman tayo?

Matapos makapagparaos at maidaos ang Pulikatan, patong-presyo sa ulong bandido ang nasumpungang remedyo ng mga mahilig pumatong. Naglaan nga ng US $5 million bilang pambayad sa putaheng ulo-ulo.
--o0o—

Kaiba ang diskarte ng mga Kristiyanong vigilante para tablahin ang alinmang pangkat ng bandidong Bangsa Moron. Diskarteng palit-ulo.

Bibihagin ng tropang vigilante ang mga malapit na kaanak ng bandido. Ipapaalam sa mga bandido ang kanilang ginawa. Mauuwi sa karaniwang palitan ng bihag mula magkabilang panig. Palitan ng ulo. Matapos magpalitan, puwede nang ituloy sa ratratan. Ubusan.

Hindi pa sinusubukan ang bisa ng diskarte ganting kidnap para mapalaya ang mga nalalabing bihag ng Abu Sayyaf. Mas matipid sa gastos ang ganitong paraan.

Sa totoo nito’y wala naman talagang halaga ang buhay ng sinumang tao para sa alinmang bandidong grupo – Abu Sayyaf man o yung tropang civil society na sumungkit ng may P2 bilyon sa subasta ng debt papers na katumbas ng P35 bilyong ransom sa 2010.

Sa pandaigdigang human value index na sumusukat sa katumbas na halaga sa salapi ng tao (batay sa kaalaman, kahusayan at kakayahang lumikha ng dagdag na halaga sa kanyang gawain), posibleng mahigit US$5 milyon ang katumbas na halaga ng tropang Abu Sayyaf.

Kung ibabatay sa sistemang palit-ulo, puwedeng tawaran hanggang umabot sa sangkusing lang ang alinmang tropang bandido.

गोइंग बाद

2010-12-28T21:18:00.000-08:00

Happy Nuke Year!

CANINE cohorts, bomb sniffing dogs, top dogs, lap dogs, bitches and riches, poodles and noodles, wolves and wolverines, garcias y gracias, all ye multitudes gone to the dogs… daemon est deus inversus… lend your ears and its maxed up hearing range to everyone who shoos away blessings, does blasts instead on New Year’s eve.

So equipped with such a capacity well over 16 times than an average human’s, every firecracker blast would thunder like a jet’s sonic boom or nuclear warhead detonation doting on inside their heads… and cause more than neural, locomotor plus hormonal imbalance… total dysfunction in those imbeciles—we have lots and lots of ‘em living up to the tab, Filipinoise… uh, LOL!

Fiat! Fiat! Fiat!

Who needs anti-tetanus shots when the best shots don’t come in syringes on the eve of another year?

Shot, come… shot, come… shot, come… (Bedlam in bed as temblors and aftershocks ensue, moans come… come…come aplenty, blissful blessed peace and physical release settles like breeze-borne feather.)

We wish you Filipinoise another hapless nuke year…

No explanation needed for those who can grasp… no explanation can be grasped by those who can’t even get a grip on memory or mammary or get a hold on what’s to jack off since their tools won’t work anyway, mwa-ha-ha-ha-haw!

Those who can grasp can make out the sighs of roses unfurling petals.

Nah, mon amour, a fresh year isn’t a sheaf of months and days on a calendar that we’ll fill in as a ditch digger does before laying drain pipes…

A new year is virgin parchment, an empty sheet, a taut gesso spread canvass so acquiescent to brushstrokes, the beloved shed of every veil and vulnerable to every gesture of tenderness, the fragrant silence of a performance hall before a symphony orchestra rolls out an earful.

No need for prophecies and tendencies to be foretold, on needful silence of virgin parchment, spill it out… spell out what needs to be done… fulfill your future and your own prophecies. Some solemn silence really needed to do that.

You don’t set fire to virgin parchment, or do you?

My first grandchild got herself a sketch pad and a box of crayons… and with that, she set out to fill every empty page with colors, every color that she awkwardly wields would find their mark on such emptiness.

And she would fill her days with lots of color and fragrance of rainbows—no drabness, no dullness—in those sheaves of days and dates…

Let those who wish to fill their days with smog and stench, fire and filth choke on all that garbage, so mote it be!

Ells

2010-12-28T19:11:00.000-08:00

"Be thine own palace, or the world’s thy jail." -- John Donne

BINASBASAN sa kung saan-saang panig, singit at sulok ang kanilang pamamahay—all-out house blessing talaga…. babaylan ang apong Musa na lapis, crayola at kahit anong panulat ang panghasik-lapat ng basbas… there’s serene kinesthetic thrill touched off in such scrawling spree, fingers plied out to bring earthly bliss…

Natutunan na kasi ng apo ang Kubera mudra—ang sagradong anyo na ibubukadkad ng mga daliri’t kamay sa paghawak ng panulat… a blessing to amass worldly wealth, to make wishes come through and true… hands-on writing brings such wonders, so resonant of the archetypal Chinese folktale about a brush-wielder whose picture writings magically come to life…

Hindi na isinama ang sangkatutak na mudra (Sanskrit for “bring out bliss”), the cutting hands of kujikiri ninjutsu at samut-saring igkas ng kamay mula sa mga sining ng tagisan… pero umabot sa may 80 ang bilang ng galaw sa kamay na inisa-isa sa isinulat noon… hands-on attempts to know the physical limits of reality… “the hand is the cutting edge of the mind, the world can only be grasped by action, not by contemplation.”

Suwerte mo, ‘dre, kasama ka sa iilan na pinagbigyan sa pakikipagkrus ng kamay… and even at such awkward level of 80 hand moves, lagi’t laging kakaldag—hindi masasalag— sa kung saan-saang bahagi ng iyong katawan ang mga umiigkas na basbas-kamay… uh-duh, there are holy blessings and deadly benedictions that can be done by hand. Comes handy in close-quarters engagements.

Wielding a writing implement any which way she can was a new found fount of joy for my grandchild… mind-boggler of a discovery there, here’s a wee tool—pencil, crayola, pentel pen, redacting pen, sign pen, what have you-- that extends the reaches of her body/mind.

So you have a Sweeney Todd (played by Johnny Depp) exulting in triumph as he flicks out and stretches an arm grasping an ornate pearl-handled flat razor: “I am now complete.”

And I’ve got me a grandchild rocked by gales of glee as she swings out an arm, hand in awkward grasp at a crayon: “Wheee-hee-hee-hee-hee-yaah!”

She’s begun laying cornerstones and pillars to her palace, as the poet John Donne would have it imagined… she’d be free… hirit nga ng kumpareng Jerusalino Araos, “prison is a state of mind, freedom is (a fastness) of the heart.”

Extensions… extensions… Buildings have ells, additional wings that won’t fly anywhere but would be added to accommodate a few more stuff, some more activities…

In thoroughfares, els are fitted out… overhead or elevated rails to accommodate some more sarabands of passengers and wayfarers… another extension of a route’s carrying capacity for people…

Ells here there and everywhere… head-over-heels rails… eh ba’t kulong at kulang pa rin… sa libog ng diwa?

I’ve asked a lawyer friend who’s seeing a client in Okinawa to bring me a pair of sai—threshing tool for freshly harvested rice stalks… a request for another extension…

Karl Wilson of Tasmania had this parting shot as he gave me tree surgery saws, machete for capoeira practice, and pruning shears: “I know they’ll be in good hands.”

Uli-uli

2010-12-27T19:31:00.000-08:00

INALIS ng bubot na dilag lahat ng saplot sa katawan, buong tiwasay na humarap, tuksong inihahandog ang alindog sa kanyang panginoon… pero walang tutusok sa tukso, ni hindi na tumindig ang balahibo sa katawan ng amo…

Tagpo ‘yon sa pelikula, Novecento… pero may palusot ang kausap hinggil sa kanyang milyonaryong kanayon… hindi na nito kailangan pang magpunta sa doktor… doktor na ang nagtutungo sa kanya… paulit-ulit na bayaran sa konsultasyon, hindi gamutan… ‘yung tinatawag na pamamahala na lang sa samut-saring sakit, ailment management…

Nagbigti na lang ang hindi makasabsab na panginoon sa sabsaban. Humahalakhak na iniwan siya ng naghahandog ng alindog. Mutya na may kutya. Kahit kasi saksakan ng milyong halaga ng botox ang singkapan, hindi na titigasan… pero nanigas sa wakas ang buong katawan… rigor mortis.

Nagsimula na rin ang end organ damage sa milyonaryong taganayon… isa-isa nang nalalaspag, pumapaltos ang iba’t ibang sangkap ng katawan—atay, lapay, bato, utak, puso… pinakamasaklap ang panlulupaypay ng nakalaylay sa pagitan ng hita… hindi na titikas, kakanta ng pambasang awit sa Pilipina.

Tala-talaksan naman ang kanyang natipong pera… ubrang magtampisaw o maglublob doon habang isinasangguni ang nararamdamang pagguho ng katawan.

Oo na, marami nga siyang pera.

Naisalpak na minsan sa Facebook account ang ulat ukol sa mag-asawa, nanalo sa lotto ng higit sa $11 milyon… ipinamigay halos lahat ng napanalunan… wala na raw kasi silang mapag-uukulan ng ganoong halaga kundi pambayad sa chemotherapy… terminal stage cancer… pamburol at pampalibing na lang ang kasunod na bayarin.

Two-bit sense… two cents worth…

Gano’n at gano’n lang ang bubungkalin uli at uli… isasalang ang utak, diwa’t katawan sa walang humpay na halungkat. Magkukuwento. Magkukuwenta.

Pero kailangang bigyan ng puwang ang ganitong pamamaalam ng isang yugto ng panahon… kahit kaunting pagninilay… kaunting tiwasay na pagpanday…

Makapaghanda ng kinilaw na kuyom—sea urchin ceviche—na matutungkab sa mga singit at kili-kili ng bahura… P400 ang nalagas sa bulsa sa iilang pirasong kuyom na pinulutan minsan, wala na ang tukso ng tabsing at alat-asim ng labia minora sa nalantakan… hindi na kasi sariwa, pati kulay namumutla.

Baka masalang na naman sa pananalapang ng kurita… magdamagang lakad-galugad sa mga luong habang nilalamutak ng yelong amihan ang katawan, sinisigid ng alat-dagat ang kalamnan, nakatutok ang mata sa lansi’t linlang ng mapusyaw na liwanag na ididilig sa pisngi ng tubig-alat….

Muling mag-aayuno… fasting… “The body needs fasting periods to stay healthy. A body that is provided with food too often gets caught up in the maelstrom of a lack of exercise, obesity and ultimately diabetes.”

Key switch player: “Foxa2, a protein that makes sure other genes are activated and converted into proteins. Foxa2 is found in the liver—nudging arson on fats-- and in two important neuron colonies in the hypothalamus -- the region of the brain that controls the daily rhythm, sleep, intake of food and sexual behavior. Reins for Foxa2 activity is insulin, in both the liver and the hypothalamus.”

There’s dearth of insulin and Foxa2 goes hyper during fasting. In the brain, Foxa2 helps the formation of two proteins: MCH and orexin-- messenger substances that trigger spontaneous movement. (That partly explains why cartwheels and such whirls including an eddy of Kama Sutra positions work best while in a fast.)

2011 is Year of Chemistry.

Bleatitude

2010-12-26T19:58:00.000-08:00

HIDEOUS destructive powers under leash… Greek term for such is praus referring to war steeds. It translates to ‘meek’ that the Messiah cited in the Beatitudes, what it takes to be happy.

“Happy are the meek for they shall inherit the earth.”

Fair warning: the meek won’t be trampled to a pulp, grounded to compost and buried in earth’s bowels to lay claim to their inheritance… they’ll likely do all-out land-grabbing.

In the meanwhile, bleat drums and sound out a shy hiss as a teakettle does before spilling out some of its scalding intent, uh, content… so much content in contentment.

Praus mauna—uh, Polynesian for mountain-- ang hiya ng inyong imbing lingkod na isinilang sa Taon ng Kabayo bilang pagpupugay sa datal at dasal ng Taon ng Kuneho, Year of Chemistry— kaya hee-yaah! hee-yaah, tigidig… tigidig… tigidig!

Nakagiliwan na kasing makipagniig sa buhangin, tabsing, araw at simoy-amihan diay ti amianan sa pagsasalit ng luma’t bagong taon… it’s a ritual romp with the elements to start a year on a childish whimsy.

That means some solemn moments on the beach doing reverse stands… standing on one’s head, on one’s palms, on one’s fingers... with two-bit prayer and meditation thrown in. And some chanting of an arcane, eldritch mantra: “Sshow… Mme… Duh… Money…”

And a few cartwheels to cap that rite with a burst of exuberance so childish— here’s another year to romp through.

Not really recommended for those with cardiac conditions, such praxis for pointing up a communion with primeval forces—a down-to-earth meek gesture.

At kapag ganitong gumugulong, este, gumugulang na, kung anu-anong sintomas ng karamdaman yata ang nararamdaman— makasilip lang sa pagitan ng nag-uumpugang papaya ng dilag, rumaragasang tambol at tambuli na ang dibdib… masilayan lang ang nakabukang bukana ng mutya, naninigas mula gulugod hanggang tuhod at tulatod…

Tumatanda nang lulugod-lugod— kakaiba yata sa lulugo-lugo’t uugod-ugod.

Napakaraming hahandugan ng sala’am at salamat kapag ganitong paalis na ang isa na namang taon… ang pamunuan ng Philip Morris sa pangunguna ni Capitan Lucio Tan sa kanilang walang sawang kaloob ng Marlboro Black… sa pamunuan ng University of the East sa pangunguna ni Capitan Lucio Tan sa walang sawang pagtangkilik sa aming gawaing pantasan… sa Tanduay na nakakagiliwang tunggain ng ilang pinuno ng National Press Club, lalo na ang Ronniel de Guzman at Tinay Maralit…

Sa mga masugid na mambabasa ng pitak na ito na, ulat po sa ‘kin, sanlinggo daw na pagbabasa’t paghimay ang ginagawa nila para mahagip ang katuturan… kahit santambak pa ang sahog na kalibugan.

Kina Donna Mercado at Jonalyn Perez sa walang sawang pagtitiwala…

Kina Harbonah at Hasmed, Uriel, Azriel, Simkiel… Za’afiel, Af, Kolazonta, Hemah, Tar’athyail at Kemuel… sa patuloy na paglingap.

Kina Barakiel, Bariel, Adoniel, at Rubiel… kina Cathetel, Risnuch, Donachiel… sa aking kabiyak, mga supling, apo at mga alagang aso, pusa’t pananim…

And to our Father who art in Heaven… bequeathing so much content in contentment, so much hearty beat in our beatitude.

Haul’d long sigh…

2010-12-25T23:09:00.000-08:00

FRENCH… romance… counters of men, lend me a few millions of pesos… oops, my ears are yours for the taking, talking, blowing a blaze of sighs into… a photojournalist who did hit jobs for the Left years back, he left the talking to whoever he was with… he won’t sing even under duress, why bother to tell where bodies are buried?

That attitude—he’d listen intently, showering the talker with earnest attention as if basking in the presence of the soul before him. That made him—rather homely looking-- a babe magnet, fair target for indecent proposals. A comely japayuki once baited him with her fat bank account, even asked him for deposits—the sort that spurts… pero hindi ATM ang kanyang budhi…

Kaya ‘kikinig lang din ako… talc is a lot cheaper than make-up. But it does ease off freckles and wrinkles just don’t talc your head off.

So, please do so, so… get it off your chest… uh-duh, I wasn’t referring to that 40-D cup, uh-oh, okay, let me lend a hand… now that you can breathe easier you have the floor, speaker dear… I’ll take the bed to sleep in, uh, you sure you’re joining?

The rule, speakers always have the floor— no ifs, ands or butting in, listening entails a reservoir of patience. Such a reservoir ought to be as huge as Angat’s—dam if you do really listen, damned if you don’t.

Invitation to online chats is fine but nothing works up human biochemistry than a face-to-face conversation… say, I make an in-your-face pass that tugs at your heartstrings and purse-strings; you return the gesture, demonstrate your tender affection by making necessary arrangements to my profile with a fist… that’s so touching!

Banging out a stream of phrases on a keyboard is so tiresome, the words don’t carry color, timber and tone of mixed emotions that can be unfettered in saying or sighing… so dull, even the letters and misspellings come out in uniform… the hands stay on the keyboard, ah, hands ought to travel to, scour pockets and sockets elsewhere, where else?

So let’s do coffee with petit-fours or croissants… and chat. Or a few beers with snippets of food… and get a conversation kindled, do arson… maybe set a conflagration or a holocaust.

Masaya ang harapan sa pakikipag-usap, pakikiusap. Mas makatuturan ang harapang pakikinig sa kausap.

Renowned plant breeder Luther Burbank soothed apprehensions, cooed at and coaxed a prickly pear cactus to shed off her spines… and she did so.

That goes to show the wonders of tenderness and intimacy that face-to-face conversation can touch off—Burbank did pull it off.

I’d likely do something similar—pull your legs or a tendon, maybe shed a fear or tear… hear and glisten.

BOXING DAY

2010-12-24T20:44:00.000-08:00

SAINT Stephen couldn’t have paved a road or built a solid foundation with all the stones they hurled at him… for a man who kept the faith, he suffered the punishment meted to unfaithful wives in places where shariah law rules—stoned dead…

Poor wives… penalty for unfaithful husbands would make Manila top honcho Alfredo S. Lim groan for saying that the law applies to all, otherwise their application letters and applicants ought to be thrown together in a paper shredder… decrepit, misfit applicants who won’t get hired in any job.

St. Stephen’s Day—December 26-- coincides with the public holiday celebrated in England, Australia, Canada and other Commonwealth countries, Boxing Day… the upper class gives thanks to their drivers, maids, and other service workers with gifts of money, food, clothing, and other goods…

Let’s get this straight, all that gratitude and generosity go to those who serve, they deserve it—idlers and lazybones deserve to be treated as punching bags.

Why Boxing Day: gifts of cash, food, and other goods were stuffed into boxes for easy transport… it turns out the goods were distributed based on family needs and the services they’ve given to the giver…

With all those boxes of goodies given away, today’s celebration has the looks, the equivalent of a disaster relief operation in our strangled neck of the woods. What a disaster Christmas has become hereabouts— those nights of carols… tuneful singing is praying twice, woeful singing is a curse many times over… nagmurap lang nang nagmurap… they can’t carry a decent tune, why dump indecencies on unsuspecting households?

Ah, Boxing Day… Say, if the chauffeur or D. H. Lawrence’s gamekeeper in “Lady Chatterley’s Lover” warms missus’s bed for the hubby, it’s likely the carnal services rendered is gifted with the missus, all of her in a safe-box… call that a gift of money.

Be it resolved as it is hereby resolved today when the Sun conjoins planet of explosive power Pluto… ah, transformation is slathered thick in the air, thus, new year resolutions begun and trotted out today will be done… shift happens now.

My online Druid lets out her counsel: “Do you want to be financially free? Comfortable and secure? Think of someone who already is financially free, comfortable and secure and, then, breathing in through the tip top of your head bless that person. Now, exhale that same breath through your belly and keep blessing that person. Do this all the day long. Bless away.”

Here’s looking forward to the United Nations-declared “Year of Chemistry” in 2011… most of the women I’ve laid bare, oops, laid my eyes on don’t wear chemise… they wear me out.

That’s fashion. Maybe passion.

Geeks bearing gifts

2010-12-21T23:06:00.000-08:00

SO dirt-poor were those dullards nearby all they could give was dirt… but I’m taking neither their dirt nor dearth, so that just keeps on stacking up and burying ‘em under… Christmas can be a burial season of sorts, mwa-ha-ha-ha-happy holidays!

Suspicion sinks in that most of this column’s followers are gifted— so they need not be lavished with more.

However, I insist on giving them either the benefit of doubt or a break…
Easier to give than to forgive—one reason why most of my godchildren kunat find their godfather… I gave away a cheap chess set to a boy—“money po ninong!”-- hoping that such grows on him. Children grow—and they outgrow most of the presents that they get… best to dote on them with gifts that will grow with them. So I guess once that boy is done toying with strategies in chess, he’ll move on to playing with chests…

Our beloved departed Lourdes “Odette” Alcantara, art connoisseur and environmentalist once gave me several book-size boxes of matches with a naughty note that floored me in stitches— “Because you’re matchless, mahilig ka pang maglaro ng apoy, damuho ka!”

One of the tales in a set of books that she gifted my daughter had left fond impressions in the child… she had me write—for weeks in the cold fastness of the La Trinidad pine and Coffea arabica forest reservation area-- an entire musical based on the tale, “The Picture Wife” which turned up as “Larawang Kapilas-Puso” that she directed for a theater company.

Erstwhile Ateneo lecturer and Agence France Presse honcho Carl Wilson must have read an earlier column citing how use of tools can reconfigure entire mind and body with the skills plied… so he left me a pair of pruning shears, a Brazilian machete of high-grade tempered steel, and a pair of Japanese saws of similar material for tree surgery… the latter touched off fits of envy in Dennis Fetalino, kinuha tuloy ‘yong isa… here’s a tool that proffers a full set of dentures, tibay-talas ng mga ngipin.

There’s a streak of Scrooge in me who’d rather focus celebrations on Lent’s Feast of Resurrection—Pasko ng Pagkabuhay… kahit naman sinong kumag ubrang magdiwang ng kanyang pagsilang… but for the Paschal, the sacrificial lamb whose name rings an omen for the faithful, being born isn’t such a big deal… rising from the dead, that’s something else—not even zombies or Dr. Victor Frankenstein’s assemblage of corpse parts can claim such a feat.

Kaya mas masayang magdiwang ng Pasko ng Pagkabuhay kaysa Pasko ng Pagsilang.

In this season of cheers and jeers, beware of geeks bearing gifts.

Basbas sa sabsab

2010-12-19T02:59:00.000-08:00

TIYAK tatamaan ng erectile dysfunction kapag nasilaw sa kuwarta.

Aba’y sa babae ‘yan, sa lalaki—kuwarto.

Hindi nakakasilaw ang nanlalagkit na alkitrang karimlan sa kuwarta ng babae… ‘kakasikipantalon nga’t talagang sinasaliksik o kaya’y sinasalaksak ang hiwaga ng hiwa… lalo na kapag naglalawa… that’s how you treat money— perra, female mutt, bitch.

Sa ganitong dahilan kaya nahawa sa isang kakatwang gawi… nilalakipan ng basbas ang sabsab, the saying of grace before feasting on a yummy thing… maituturing din na sabsab din ‘yang kuwarta—litmus tests show that such a delight is slightly acidic, parang sinigang o manggang manibalang—kaya kailangan din ng basbas… bago sumibasib sa paglapang.

Hindi paspasan—no quickie, no premature ejaculation here—kundi basbasan. And the latter lusts, oops, lasts.

Pansinin na nabasbasan ang sabsaban dahil doon iniluwal ang Messiah… and He shall reign forever and ever.

“Be a blessing, be blessed. Go and multiply. Return to me a millionfold.”

Mantakin kung ipupunla ang ganyang basbas-kulamnista o orasyong mangkokolum sa kuwartang may kalakip na kambal na ngiti—‘yung bagong P500… uh, certain findings show that giving away P250 touches off happiness in the giver, so a P500 gift translates to what the Chinese call as “double happiness.”

Muniin na masunuring alipin, alila, alalay or even a retinue of myrmidon infantrymen ang tahasang pagturing sa kuwarta… hindi panginoon— na umiiral na pagtingin sa kuwarta.

As St. Luke had it worded: “No servant can be the slave of two masters; he will either hate the first and love the second, or treat the first with respect and the second with scorn. You cannot be the slave both of God and of money.”

Money’s myrmidon, not Lord Mammon to be served or be subservient to—oo na nga, naglisaw at naglipana ang mga pusong Mammon sa sambayanan.

With such a firm, even tumescent awareness of faith on monay—misspelling intended—they’ll just come and come and come and come and keep on coming, mwa-ha-ha-ha-happy holidays!

Kahit naman ungkatin pa si Congressmanny Pacquiao, tiyak na igigiit ang kanyang karanasan sa pakikipagbimbangan sa ruweda… “It is better to give than to receive.”

Teka, kabilang ang inyong imbing lingkod na nagagalak sa nadagdag na ngiti sa mga hilatsang limbag sa mga salaping papel ng Pilipinas.

Marami ang noon pa’y umaangal na duling na nga ang ating singko, pulos nakasimangot o galit pa ang mga mukhang nakadungaw sa mga pambayad sa pananagutan—parang masama ang loob o sumusulak ang ngitngit na magbayad sa mga bayaring obligasyon.

Such contagious grim and glum profiles ought to give way to icons that ply out winsome smiles.

Pero kahit sodium bicarbonate ang ikaskas sa ngipin ng bayani upang kumislap sa kinang pati hilatsang itatambad, tatamaan ng erectile dysfunction kapag nasilaw sa kuwarta.

Sa Disyembre 22

2010-12-18T20:20:00.000-08:00

LILIYAB ang umaga, mabilis ang sakmal ng dilim sa pinakamaikling araw ng buong taon… kaya maghanda ng pulang kandila—ukitan ng larawan ng araw sa gilid nito, umusal ng kahilingan habang umuukit…

Igiling-giling ang hiling sa isipan.

Hihiling na rin lang, h’wag naman mga imposible—tulad ng kapayapaan sa sanlibutan… aba’y malinaw ang nakasaad na peace on earth to men of goodwill, talagang liglig ng ligalig ang masama ang kalooban, kung sama ng loob ang itinanim, huwag umasam na katiwasayan ang susupling…

Huwag hihiling na malantakan ang Kim Chiu, kimchi na lang, mas may anghang-linamnam pa… Huwag hihiling na tumama ang kahit limang numero ng tayang lucky lucky pick pick sa lotto araw-araw… mas masarap tumama do’n sa huli.

We’re working with symbols of the yuletide season—that red candle stands for the bet… oops, Yule log.

Sindihan ang dila, oops, kandila. Hayaang maupos, tangayin ng hangin ang kahilingan upang makarating sa kinauukulan… tatalab ang alab ng hiling sa dibdib, ah, let your heart be light, infused with light, as it is written in Ecclesiasticus 21:8-9, “To build your house on other people’s money is like collecting stones for your own tomb.”

Do I hear a choir or a throng over there muttering a death wish for geezers gathering tombstones?

Oops, I should have jotted down Ecclesiasticus 13:31… “A man’s heart moulds his expression whether for better or worse. The mark of a good heart is a cheerful expression.”

Kaya hindi maunawaan kung bakit pinagpipilitang mabura sa gilid ng mata ang mga naiwang bakas ng galak at halakhak… ‘yung tinatawag na crow’s feet… pinauso yata ng mga cosmetic surgeons ang tinatawag na mukhang poker… that’s a face to be used to poke, poke, poke…

Birthday greetings to the Greek goddess Demeter or the Roman Ceres, Jose D. Lina, Jr. and Oliviaria F. Manaois… kapwa isinilang sila sa sagisag ng Kambing na si-- ayon sa alamat—Amalthea na nagtustos ng gatas kay Zeus matapos iligtas ng kanyang inang Rhea sa amang Chronos, yeah, Father Time which devours its children…

Today is a perfect day to hang a she-goat’s horn as homage to the archetypal nanny who suckled a god, why, it was her broken horn that was transformed into the cornucopia or horn-of-plenty, ah, so horny, horny, horny.

Wala namang mawawala sa inyo kung magpupugay sa kambing… matapos maibay sa laklak-alak aba’y masarap na pampahimasmas ang sabaw ng sinampalukang ulo’t paa ng kambing…

Isubi ang sungay: gawing palamuti, salpakan ng barya o nakangiting pera (‘yung bagong P500), kendi, binhi ng upo, mustasa o kalabasa, butil ng mais o palay, asin at bulaklak-- itutok sa pintuan ng inyong tahanan ang sagisag ng walang humpay na daloy ng kasaganaan—at libog-- sa buhay…

Sa’n makakabili: nagtitingi po ng kambing sa Farmers Market sa Cubao at sa gilid ng Commonwealth Avene na sangkilometro ang layo sa bukana ng Fairview, Quezon City.

Manigayang Pasko at maligong bagong taon sa lahat!

Lifeline

2010-12-16T20:08:00.000-08:00

MATAPOS ang magdamagang putukan, maiiwan sa kama ang hubo’t hubad na katawan ng kalaro sa apoy—tila tupok na tumpok ng tuyot na laman at kalansay…

Gano’n sa sinubaybayang nobela sa komiks nitong dekada 1960, “Ambrose Dugal” ang pamagat… obrang Al Cabral yata… isinumpa ng ginahasa niya na lakambining babaylan… Adonis na naging taong linta o limatik na sisipsip, sasaid sa mismong élan vital or vital force ng bawat dilag na makasiping.

An’daming sinalanta sa kama…tayan.

Gano’n din pero walang pinipili ang mga salot na pulititiko—bata, matanda, kahit anuman ang kasarian… hinuhuthot ang kabuhayan. Mas matindi siguro ang hilakbot sa isipan ng mambabasa kung pinalabas na lingkod-bayan, pinuno ng government-owned and controlled corporation, customs or tax examiner si Ambrose Dugal… the horrors, the horrors hounding our lives…

Teka… ganoon din ang ginawa ng mga alalay ni Haring David (isa sa mga ninuno ng Manunubos) nang uugod-ugod na hukluban na ito… itinabi sa pagtulog niya ang birheng dilag na si Abishag… upang madugtungan ang buhay at lakas ng lupaypay na ari, oops, hari.

From ‘Ritual and Magic’ published in 1997: “The same technique was used in classical Greece and Rome, seemingly with considerable success. Latin historians record... the remarkable case of a certain L. Claudius Hermippus (who at) the age of 70, began to feel a waning of his physical and mental powers.

“He immediately began to sleep with young virgins… his tombstone recorded that he lived to the age of 115, owing to ‘the emanations of young maidens, causing great wonder to all physicians’.”

Matinding pampabata marahil ang kakaibang singaw o alimuom mula bubot na baba, eh… kaya hanggang ika-18 siglo, ginagawa rin ng mga may pambayad ang ganoong paraan para lumawig, sumigla ang buhay…

Kinukutuban na tuloy sa mga alaga naming pusa…

Nagsilang nga ang kilabot na Toyang ng tatlong kuting nitong bisperas ng Todos los Santos—pusikit na karimlan sina Sheng Li (Tagumpay) at Jianyu (Espada at Lawa), busilak na bulak si Tung Wang (Emperador)… nagsalin sila ng lintik na sigla at likot sa kabahayan.

Sa hindi maipaliwanag na dahilan, nakagawian na ng mga lekat na tumabi sa ‘kin sa pagtulog… maaalimpungatan na 2-3 ang nakabalumbong bola ng puti o itim na balahibo sa aking sikmura, sa mismong dan tien or haraki, that’s storage area for the élan vital… ah, I’d sure agree with Da Vinci anytime that a cat is a masterpiece… then again, there’s law in claw or lex talionis… cat in catch… and there’s feline in lifeline.

And I’ve run into old texts describing how Egyptian wonder-workers used felines in lieu of crystals to store energies or effect healing.

Siyameow—siyam na siopaw daw ang buhay ng mga lekat…

And I’m likely infected with a fancy for fish, say, tilapia guanio… garoupa mae quinto… salmons pubis…

Ad hocus-focus

2010-12-15T21:48:00.000-08:00

SPREAD a million gallons of water over a hundred hectares, you got rain. Same volume fitted in a thumb-sized hose, shot smack into the solar plexus—now, that’s killer focus.

A hundred or so bulbs blazing throughout the confines of a theatre stage, that’s floodlighting. All that heat and light bundled and tapered thin as a pin cuts through metal, anything that stands in its way— and that’s laser focus.

No hocus-pocus-- there’s wondrous downright real magic in focus that allows a 100-pound weakling, uh, someone surnamed Hu from China, to flick out a half-a-ton punch that rips through the rib cage… sure, the rib cage is the surest way to a man’s heart and lungs.

Plural form of “locus” is “loci”… for focus, now don’t you enunciate that with so much smirking and smacking…

Susi—opo, titik “i” at hindi “o” ang nasa huli ng kataga—pala sa puspos na kasiyahan ang tindi ng tutok ng isip sa ginagawa… talagang bubulwak ang tinatawag na happy hormone or oxytocin sa bukal ng utak. Itsapwera na lang ‘yung wala talagang utak… na pulos hinagpis, hapis, dusa, lumbay, bumbay, lungkot, lunggati, pighati, at dalamhati ang tinatamasa.

Iba na ang mahilig sa kalat… pulos kuyagot at basura ang ikakalat… pati kukote, nagkakalat.

‘Yung nakatutok—kahit pa sa nakabukang bukana lang—tiyak titindig, matikas na papasok, titikim sa luwalhati ng pagniniig… gano’n katindi ang bisa ng focus… ‘yon ang tinutukoy na kahit 17 segundo lang ng todong tutok-isip, katumbas ng santaong gawa… at kung kaya sa 68 segundo, katumbas ng 1,000 taon— tiyak na matutupad anumang mithi na tinuunan ng isip…

Ulitin natin ang pasubali o tax exemptions. Itsapwera ang mga mintis, mahina ang isip o wala talagang isip… kung sariling katawan hindi maisalang at mapanday sa disiplina, sariling isipan pa, pwe-he-he-he!

Mungkahi lang naman kasi ‘to kay Mang Lauro… itutok lang ang dalangin ninyo… pray with all you can muster-summon of your psyche and sinew to my guardian archangel Barakiel who governs over retribution and vengeance, sense of humor, scalpel wit, games of chance—uh, jueteng, sakla and lotto included-- and, aah, lightning… kaya nga kabuntot ng kanyang ngalan, “lintik lang ang walang ganti.”

Masidhi’t mataimtim na dalangin talaga ang iniaalay sa kung anuman ang minimithi… don’t ask for justice because all you’ll get is just ice.

Pleas and pleadings that aren’t specific just get dumped in the Pacific… so be specific.

Focus… focus… that’s the tough fabric that weaves itself into miracles and wonders.

Listening to dinner

2010-12-14T20:30:00.000-08:00

A northern tribe who chop off foes’ heads as war trophies listen to their food, I was told. Sure sounds edible-- would a pinch of fish flesh howl in pain or sing a paean?

They’re not likely referring to the snap, crackle and pop off crunchy slivers of raw radish, seaweed or cucumbers lazed in vinaigrette of black pepper, sugar, olive oil and salt. Every item of viand ought to tell something more than a “moo” off a beef morsel.

Unlikely an early warning that copious intake of nitrates in cured meats—tocino, longaniza, corned beef and what have you-- may reach critical mass and just go off like a time bomb wrecking the insides of a gourmand.

Certainly not a list of the food item’s biochemical makeup, no fastfood staple spiked with industrial-strength ingredients would bother to inflict pangs of panic on a prospective victim of obesity-related mortality.

So what did those headhunters had in mind when they sat down for repasts, hushed hunger and asked their kids to lend a heedful ear to what’s before them?

We could be wrong but hazard a guess we ought to.

Bringing food to the table isn’t a picnic for mountain dwellers. Raising food crops and livestock on an unwieldy terrain isn’t equal to barking an order of stir-fried beef noodles or chow mein kampf to a waitress, plunking down one’s hinnies on a seat and chattering away with one’s company awaiting for food to be dished out pronto.

So we’re estranged from the ordeal of a process in turning up sustenance… we’ve turned into feeders feeding off slops of products thrown onto troughs. Life is so easier.

Nabanggit sa kapwa dalubhasa sa pagsisinop-lupa na nakasumpong kaming mag-asawa ng taniman ng watercress or xi yang cai kalapit sa bukal, nasa gilid ng bundok may dalawang kilometro ang layo sa aming tinutuluyan… sagsag doon ang katutubong dalubhasa.

Kabilang sa nilantakan sa gabing iyon ang nakabunton sa pinggan na xi yang cai, mayumi ang anghang-tamis… may lagaslas ng batis, linamnam at lutong ng utong… may bahid ng apat na kilometrong paroo’t paritong pagbaybay sa kasukalan… ganoon ang naulinig sa hapunan.

Iba naman ang narinig na ngitngit sa matandang nagsisinop ng ektaryang palayan na kanugnog ng isang subdivision sa Camarin… walang 70 sako ng palay ang inaani sa lawak na ‘yon na paminsan-minsang dinadagsa ng mga musmos mula subdivision…

Wala raw pakundangan ang mga bata kung sagasaan at dapurakin ang mga uhay-palay… nalalagas ang mga butil… ni santasang kanin daw, hindi kayang mapalago ng mga magulang ng mga musmos na ‘yon.

Sino’ng magtitiyagang makinig, maniniwala sa kanya?

Ibalik si Ondoy!

2010-12-13T20:18:00.000-08:00

UNDAY ni Ondoy ang kailangan para patunayan kung kaya ng mass housing design ang tindi ng baha.

Hindi lang sa bayo ng bagyo-- pakay ng patimpalak na inilunsad kamakailan ng administrasyong Herbert Bautista sa Quezon City na magtindig ng murang pabahay na ligtas sa todong Ondoy at lindol, pati yata impiyernong alinsangan, buhawi’t iba pang lupit ng kalikasan.

Hindi malupit si Ondoy… todo-buhos nga sa tubig tabang na dapat sanang sumalin sa mga imbakan sa dibdib ng lupa—underground aquifers whose reserves gathered for about a decade is used up in just a day by any mall… and we keep on building malls.

Sa halip na tubig-ulan ang sumasalin sa mga naturang imbakan, katas-Malabanan… kinupkop kasi ng mga sambahayan ang baho at baha.

Binihisan, tinapalan, tinakpan ang buyangyang na dibdib ng lupa—hindi naman masagwa kahit damsak sa putik, tila utong ng ina na tigmak sa gatas.

Kahit saganang tubig-tabang ang ibiyaya ng alinmang Ondoy, nasasayang lang… tatapon lang sa mga kanal at imburnal, mawawaldas tungong dagat. Freshwater resources constitute a scant one percent—most are stored as glaciers-- of all available water worldwide…

Nakakumot sa kongkreto ang buong bakuran ng biyenan— abot sa ikalawang palapag ng kanyang bahay ang buhos-Ondoy… bihis na bihis din ng semento ang buong paligid sa kanilang kabahayan… liyab ng pugon ang alimuom at singaw ng kongkreto sa tag-araw… walang uhaw na labi ng lupa na sisimsim sa saganang biyaya ng langit… baha sa lugar nila.

Hating kapatid— dalawang bahagi ang lupang laan sa halamanan; tatlo para sa bahay. With such 60-40 land sharing scheme, ni hindi nadamsak sa putik ang halamanan… nahigop ang bumuhos, hindi nga sa kanal at imburnal nakasahod ang media agua sa aming bahay… sa mismong bakuran lang.

Kailangan kasing tustusan ng ulan, hininga ng araw, tala’t mga buntala ang tinatawag na mycelial network sa dibdib ng lupa… para maisalin naman nito ang healing powers and dragon currents sa naninirahan sa loob ng bakuran… para hindi sakitin o lapitin ng salot at sakuna…

Siyempre, may mga lunan na natural rainwater catchment basins as there are sites below sea level… hindi talaga ubrang tindigan ng pabahay… paanyaya lang sa disgrasya’t trahedya.

Paalala lang po sa mga lalahok sa patimpalak ng lungsod na sinilangan ko… higit na mahalagang susi ng matinong disenyo ang titindigan kaysa ititindig…

Man-made structures including man have to make a stand upon that which one stands… may hininga rin ang lupa, buhay ang lupa.

Alalahanin na hindi malupit si Ondoy… sagana ang ibinuhos niyang biyaya.

Pero nauwi lang sa wala.

Kawawang Palawan

2010-12-12T20:10:00.000-08:00

BUDBOD ng asin at basbas na dalangin ang isinasangkap sa tubig-ulan para maging agua bendita… na pangontra sa mga maligno at impakto.

Tataglayin ng tubig bawat isalin ditong sangkap, pati na sansang at lansa ng mga ATM ang budhi… kaya marahil hindi kanais-nais ang lasa ng tubig na tustos sa mga taga-Palawan.

Uhaw sila sa paliwanag… kung bakit ang kanilang dating gobernador Joel T. Reyes at 10 lokal na pinuno hindi dapat ilublob sa kumukulong tubig kaugnay ng paglaspag sa P200-milyong inutang ng lalawigan para sa pantustos-tubig at sanitasyon.

Taxpayers will have to bleed for every cent—interest including—of such a loan given out by the World Bank through LandBank as part of the latter’s $36-million grant for improvement of water, sewerage, sanitation and drainage projects at the grassroots.

The provincial government trotted out a list of projects to be funded by the P200-million taxpayer’s debt-- construction of 10 Barangay Environmental Sanitation Projects (BESP) – Water Supply and Sanitation Facilities.

Records show that by 2003 year-end, such projects had cost taxpayers P179,484,334.32 including consultancy fees and interest expense.

The rob, ooops, we mean “rub”—the year-end audit report on Palawan account and operations show construction cost for these projects was something similar to baker’s dough… leavened and rose to excess by P52,312,334.45.

Even after the auditors allowed for adjustments (mobilization/demobilization costs and such figures meant to befuddle bookkeepers), the dough was still too fat at P49,187,326.45—still a princely sum that ought to be refunded.

Rubbing salt to the inflictions on taxpayers, the projects turned out to be shoddy as auditors pointed to “blatant non-observance of generally accepted engineering principles (including) practices or irregularities committed that are detrimental or disadvantageous to the government.”

Auditors also unearthed “questionable disbursements P25,445,871.91 to the project consultants – C. Lotti & Associati – with no provision for withholding tax and other supporting documents.”

The contract for the projects, it was found, befit the description of a “ghost.” No date affixed, no specification as to the responsibilities of the parties, no contract amount… no terms of payment, and neither was the date of signing by the parties indicated. It was not even notarized— res ipsa loquitur, it proclaims itself as illegal.

By extension, the projects covered by such a contract can be deemed illegal.

On the side, Reyes’ vice governor, David Ponce A. de Leon, is facing his own graft charges. The ex-vice governor and losing mayoral bet in Puerto Princesa City, has been accused of estafa for falsifying official receipts for reimbursements.

A special CoA team brought to light padded and tampered receipts used for reimbursements of snacks and meals that added to P314,656.89… it turned out the actual expense was only P343.11 but like a corpse, bloated toP204,656.89...

Fiddling sum pero kung sa konting pera ay hindi pala mapagtitiwalaan, paano pa kaya kung milyones na ang halaga?

We’re sorry for the Filipino taxpayers and Palaweños alike… they’ll be cursing and gnashing their teeth in righteous rage at their exploiters… who ought to be in hot water.

Lista sa tubig ng isip

2010-12-12T18:35:00.000-08:00

PALISTA lang ‘to ng anak…para sa Facebook-- 15 tauhan na kumintal sa isip, kumimpal sa lirip… the composite of characters that becomes seething ruthlessness, promethean patience and dedication…

1. Frank Bok, a character in Larry Alcala's "Kalabog and Bosyo" komiks series... he's a hunter who always brings to civilization quaintly comic species of plants and animals.

2. Perseus, demigod slayer of Medusa... saw a litograph print in Camilo Osias's "The Philippine Readers."

3. Simon Wiesenthal, the Nazi Hunter in Ira Levin's "The Boys from Brazil." He's for real, though, and he's been scouring the far reaches of earth to bag his quarry.

4. Batman, the only superhero with no super powers-- just cutting-edge skills in jujutsu, kalaripayat, and Tibetan boxing.

5. Gandalf, the wizard in J.R.R. Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings" trilogy.

6. Popeye really nudged me into eating vaginas, oops, veggies and shunning burgers which, as the cartoon says not so subtly, is for a Wimpy.

7. Dr. Hannibal Lecter for his skillful use of gryphon's claw, a short curved blade meant for the femoral and carotid arteries... such surgical precision in effortless killing.

8. Johnny Rico-- Pinoy siya at lumalabas na mula Nueva Ecija-- the Tagalog protagonist in Robert Heinlein's "Starship Troopers" which was a treatise on what mettle it takes to be a citizen.

9. The ugly-looking female heroine in the 1960s komiks novel “Mga Balahibong Nangangalisag” (forgot the author and illustrator) who unleashed a gargantuan leech whenever she does bank heists... masaya pala talaga ang biological warfare.

10. The scientist in Frank Herbert's "The White Plague" who unleashed the virus that nearly decimated earth's female population... vengeance on a globe-sweeping scale after he lost his family in a terrorist attack... so methodical in madness.

11. “Herbert West, The Re-Animator...” so intently absorbed in his research on what constitutes life which is a recurring theme in most of Howard P. Lovecraft's tales and novels.

12. Tarzan in Pellucidar, the only instance when he had to stifle thoughts (pterodactyl-like predators heard thoughts as if thinking is broadcast in humongous sound blasters thus leaving every thinker vulnerable to attack). Mushin-- to think/speak with sheer instinct and from the heart. Ah, this is a reminder that we think lots and feel so less... kaya maraming manhid.

13. The Gary Cooper character in "High Noon" who fights off and does in apocalypse's four horsemen... tindi!

14. “Ambrose Dugal,” another 1960s komiks novel... here's a vampire who sucks out the life force of every female she gets to bed... every victim turns into a doddering dead senile... look, no fangs, no blood... just sheer force of psychic will.

15. Tintin, vintage 1920s journalist seeker of secrets and unraveler of mysteries.

Uh, here’s character profiling… Bruno Bettelheim’s life-script now goes by the term NLP— neurolinguistic programming. Here’s looking at you, kid… in the mirror.

Agimat sa saging

2010-12-08T18:39:00.000-08:00

IT must have been a sort of banana republic, that which was bruited about as, uh, “STwrong Republic.”

With her lieutenants firmly entrenched in strategic outposts, erstwhile top banana Gloria remains out of harm’s way, untouchable… recent developments indicate that no Truth Commission can hound or haunt her, what a charmed life!

O baka talagang may agimat o anting-anting na galing sa saging—na ayon sa sinaunang kaalaman, talagang isusukob ang may taglay nito upang hindi mabasa kahit sa tindi ng unos o buhos ng baha… hindi pa rin basa ang papel ng Gloria.

Dagdag-kaalaman: katutubong saging ang Gloria, pinaghalo ang lasa ng tundan at saba—at parang pinagsanib din ang anyo ng tundan at saba.

Walang duda, pinakamarikit sa tingin sa mga katutubong saging ang Bongolan—kulay pula ang balat ng bunga. What a wonderful sight, this bunch of native strains of bananas—and we can chatter like monkeys pouncing and devouring them with gusto.

Sabi nga, nomen est omen—kaya marahil sa sari-saring saging na isinalaksak-salpak sa kung saan-saang guwang, luwang at puwang sa naitulos-tanim na banana republic, bukod-tangi ang Bongolan… who turned out to be the longest serving appointee of the top banana…

Itinulos ang katangi-tangi-tanging saging sa Home Guaranty Corporation (HGC)… and thus the government-owned and controlled outfit just went bananas… napurdoy sa kung anumang diskarte ang ginawa ng nahirang para maging pinuno nito, na dati palang stock broker and market analyst… he must have applied the skills to render stocks broke…

So HGC went broke under Bongolan: findings of Commission on Audit show that as of December 2009, HGC was as good as saging na maruya as it had frittered away P9 billion… parang saging na nilupak sa tindi ng dagok at bayo na tinanggap.

Adding insanity—they just went bananas—to injury, nagbigay ng pabuya sa kani-kanilang sarili ang mga taga-HGC… kumabig pa ng Early Separation Incentive Package (ESIP) na higit P224 milyon. Talagang tiba-tiba sa tinibang punong saging.

So, there’s this sinking feeling that incompetence is rewarded with handsome amounts… all of it to be borne on the sagging shoulders of Filipino taxpayers.

As added bonus for the bunch that ran HGC aground, the Ombudsman recently dismissed the slew of graft cases hurled against Bongolan and his HGC chums… they’re free to go, likely laughing all the way to the bank.

Naunggoy na naman ang sambayanan…

Matapos ibukaka at pasukan ng kung ilang bungkos ng saging— that was a thorough, painful screwing we went through—makakahinga na tayo nang maluwang, este, maluwag…

Kahit dinudugo pa tayo, aasam na ang iniluklok na bagong pamunuan sa HGC ay tatahak sa matuwid na landas palayo sa sagingan…

Too big to beg

2010-12-06T20:32:00.000-08:00

NOT much of a showman, so much of a shaman… who dances up storms amidst summer’s blowtorch spell using killer moves in hung gar and taekkyon… and pays homage to a vast body of water at the onset of each new year with the flimsy excuse that over 70% of his brains and body is aqueous…

Ji-Heun Yun, Asian Development Bank water resources management specialist reckoned he had found a sounding board, maybe a kindred spirit when he plied me with drinks on that drizzly night at Thirst.day, a Makati watering hole for admen, madmen, a menagerie of cranks and he-men out to spill semen.

He wanted to be heard… why, ADB likely had full backing on the $440.8-million takeover of a Korean water firm on the 218-megawatt hydroelectric power plant component of Angat Dam in Bulacan—which provides over 90% of Metro Manila’s water supply.

In May 24, the Supreme Court plied an order preventing the sale and transfer of the Angat facility to winning bidder Korea Water Resources Development Corp. or K-Water, a firm wholly owned and controlled by the South Korean government.

State-run Power Sector Assets and Liabilities Management Corp. (PSALM)—tasked by RA 9136, the Electric Power Industry Reform Act or EPIRA to privatize all the assets of the National Power Corp., including the Angat hydroelectric power plant--conducted the auction last January 11, 2010.

First Gen Northern Energy Corp., San Miguel Corp., SN Aboitiz Power-Pangasinan, Inc., Trans-Asia Oil and Energy Development Corp., and DMCI Power Corp. submitted bids but lost to an odd-man out, K-Water.

However, a bevy of stakeholders point out the auction was done in secrecy—such niceties as the Filipino people’s right to information, right to water, PSALM's mandate and certain provisions in the 1987 Constitution were dumped.

Too, stakeholders are clueless on K-Water and would likely dismiss such corporate name as an “iskwater” on Philippine soil.

K-Water would have to replicate a feat for its homeland, daily providing about 50% of South Korea’s tap water as of 2007, or so we heard. Such a service area may likely be 10 times bigger than that served by Angat—no big deal for a country whose freshwater reserves are stored as unthawed snow up in the mountains.

No such glacier reservoirs hereabouts— the nearly barren Sierra Madre range can hardly store rainfall in underground springs and aquifers that feed streams flowing into Angat… water shortages and power outages in the dry season are here to stay. What can K-Water do, grow canopy type forests upstream, do in every swidden cropper and logger on sight?

They tell me the outfit is using satellites and (in South Korea) put up “environmental infrastructure in the upper reaches of dams and environmental conservation activities.” Too, surface freshwater source quality control is ensured by “managing sewage treatment plants consigned by local governments.” (Uh, even Manila Water and Maynilad have been remiss on such task.)

As for corporate track record, reports have it K-Water has built 15 multi-purpose dams since the 1960s… and is at it building “eco-friendly small and medium-sized dams (plus) development of water resources technology involving deep ocean water, ground water and desalination.”

There. Here’s hoping the powers-that-be in our neck of the woods heard the water resources management specialist…

Ultra tragedy in the works

2010-12-06T01:24:00.000-08:00

A moneyed Malacañang hopeful hitched his wagon to moneyed star that was Willie Revillame—and had his high hopes ending in the ditch… why, the bloke was his usual grumpy self when he bellyached how the Cory funeral procession got in the way of his show’s cheerful bedlam… was that the height of callousness and insensitivity?

That wasn’t.

He challenged his ABS-CBN bosses to dump another talent and threatened to quit if he does not get his way. He didn’t get his way. So he parted ways with the network that nurtured his rising star— sure, it takes all kinds as Dennis F. insists… there are greats, near-greats… and there are ingrates.

His ABS-CBN bosses had been seeing to his weal—as he amassed wealth—as scandals and grieving victims, remember the 73 dead and hundreds of grievously injured in the ULTRA stampede, were hushed… they were too protective of their ward. They gave him the breaks, after all.

He could have ridden out into the sunset after a run-in with his bosses over a silly whim… he had millions and probably wanted more, plus a daily scalding bath in the glare of klieg lights… fame!

So he’s plying the same rigmarole over at ABC-5.

What about his contract with his erstwhile bosses? Not to be bothered with such… that can be dishonored, ah, all it touches off is a civil suit that can drag for ages… no discomfiture or discomfort for someone who can still make hay while the sun shines.

Let’s make this clear. ABS-CBN and ABC-5 aren’t in a tug-of-war to gain possession of a franchise persona. Willie’s erstwhile bosses likely want him to give it a long sabbatical if he can’t do honor to his contract, give such a legal agreement the time to lapse, why, the guy ought to give a try at movies… and when the agreement no longer holds, why, he can do a comeback.

Honor isn’t time-bound.

ABS-CBN and ABC-5 are now locked in a civil suit-- with the latter hiring the services of six law firms to gain upper hand, even win the case. It turns out—well, singkong duling is how we tab five centavos these days—they have a weak case… one tack is to attack the magistrate handling the case filed in Makati.

ABC-5’s battalion of barristers is out to condition the minds of people… in case they lose, the judge was biased against them. So trite and tested a tactic by lawyers who know that they can’t win.

In my book, this isn’t about winning or losing a court case. It’s about honor… and acquitting one’s self as a man of honor.

And that’s the ultra-tragedy that’s about to unfold…

Cauda draconis

2010-12-05T19:54:00.001-08:00

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…

Wish kulang

2010-12-04T17:30:00.000-08:00

SINUBOK sa lansangan kung may mahahagilap na matindi ang emotional quotient, E.Q., the human capacity to walk a mile or more in another’s forbidding path… Kaya ba ng Pinoy ang ganitong pagsubok?

Kakaiba sa isang tampok na bahagi ng pantanghaling palabas, huhugot ng isang pangalan ng naninirahan sa sinadyang maralitang kabahayan… tatambakan ng pagkain, kagamitan at pakimkim na ilang libong piso ang mapalad na tagaroon.

Kakaiba sa alinmang ‘kikigayang palabas na bubungkal ng makabulwak-uhog o makabuhos-luhang saysay sa buhay ng kalahok sa paligsahan… para yata makapagladlad ng human drama in an inhuman television show… that segues to a loud celebration of human incompetence, the absurd, banal and trivial to elicit laughs… to numb and dumb audiences.

Pumapalakpak na ‘ko nang ilahad ni Elizabeth Oropesa ang pakay ng pagsubok… to seek out a rare bird among gulls, geese, and gargoyles out in the streets…

“Love your neighbor as you would love yourself” is the second of God’s two greatest commandments and Christ Himself explained what a “neighbor” is… and pointed to the so-called Good Samaritan.

Palihug… pakidala sa anak ng inang bilanggo ang regalo niyang manyika.

Gano’n lang. Bahala kang tuntunin kung saang lupalop naninirahan ang anak para dalhin ang regalo. Dare the daring to walk a mile in a path he hasn’t taken… so out of the box. Parang paghahanap ng karayom sa bunton ng dayami, paghahalungkat ng kamatis na napisa sa talaksan ng atis.

Many were cold but most were frozen… many were called but one chose to do—sans silly qualm or shilly-shallying-- two-bit honor to such a request. He who chose to becomes Chosen.

Gano’n sana ang mga paligsahan… talagang magduduldol ng liyab ng panggatong sa ulirat, magtatarak ng karayom sa gulugod.

‘Tindi ng hamon niyong pagsubok. Hindi na susukatin sa mga tanong ang antas ng E.Q., hindi uungkatin kung anu-ano ang mga pinag-aralan, kakayahan at kahusayan…

Maaari bang umamot ng katiting na panahon, lisanin ng ilang saglit ang nakagawian para matupad ang munting hiling ng isang nangangailangan? Lumagay ka kahit konti sa kalagayan ko…

Gano’n lang.

Gano’n lang?

An’dami ngang sablay. Umayaw. Nag-atubili. Mintis. Hindi kaya. O ayaw kayahin. Umiwas. Dinaan sa pagdadahilan ang pagwaksi sa kapirasong responsibilidad… no test of physical endurance, no gauge of intellectual savvy.

After all that’s said, said, said and done… nothing was done, puro daldal lang. Kaya hindi basta gano’n lang ‘yon.

Nakahinga nang maluwag… sa napakahabang prusisyon ng mga umaayaw, nangingimi, tamilmil o tinatamad, may isang umako para matupad ang pakiusap…

Celebration and jubilation!

Many were called. The turnout was downright cold and callused. But we have a winner who heeded the call and did what was humanly called for.

Tapos na ang palabas, pero nakatuntong pa sa ulap ang ulirat para sa “Wish Ko Lang” ng QTV-11…

Christmas quarrels

2010-12-03T22:05:00.000-08:00

MANGAHAS umalulong ng ilang kanta… ‘yung tinatawag na Christmas quarrels para pumitas ng P10,000 mula Pambansang Samahang Pindot (PSP) o National Press Club.

Pampaligsahan dapat ang ibusina… taimtim na Gregorian chant sa panimula… Dona nobis pacem… litanya muna na may kasabay na mahina pero unti-unting lumalakas na sagitsit-taginting ng Angels we have heard on high…

Sa bahaging gorilla, oops, gloria in excelsis Deo, buhos na unos ng Joy to the world, the lewd has come, let earth receive their King… na may kasaliw-tuhog na lambing-lamyos ng Greensleeves…

Sa panapos, ubo’t ubos sa Hallelujah chorus mula “Messiah” ni George Frederick Handel…

Tuhog na tuhog ang uhog ng kuwento sa konsepto… nagsusumamong hiling ng kapayapaan sa sanlibutan… may mauulinig na balita mula kaitaasan ukol sa iluluwal na sanggol na maghahasik ng mga binhi niyon… tatambad nga ang hirang na mag-ina sa Joy to the World at Greensleeves… at sa huli’y maghahari magpakailanman ang kapayapaan…

Mungkahi lang naman ang inihanay na mga awit batay sa nawawaglit—o nalimutan yata—na diwa ng Pasko.

Udyok ang mungkahing bungkos ng awit sa mga kapatid sa hanapbuhay—and we don’t expect them to turn overnight into a Vienna Sausage Boys Choir-- na nais lumahok sa paligsahan ng PSP (hindi ‘to dinaglat na Pigil sa Pigi o Panday sa Pu…).

Pito kasi ang ubrang manalo’t kabilang naman ako sa sabik nang makarinig ng matinong Christmas quarrels… na hindi yata uso dahil nagkasundo sa 18-araw na tigil-putukan simula sa yugto ng simbang gabi at quarreling, Disyembre 16.

Kahit may tigil-putukan, walang humpay ang putakan. Pulos putak ng tandang gunggong ang mauulinig maghapon at magdamag dito sa isang lupalop sa San Jose del Monte… sintomas ‘yun ng acidosis, nakabukaka lagi ang bunganga, ilang buwan pa’t tigok ‘yon, wala kasing perang pangkonsulta kahit sa albularyo’t hilot.

Apat hanggang 10-kataong pangkat ang makakasali sa paligsahan—na hindi lalabis sa walong minuto ang performance.

Ipagbawal man ng DSWD ang quarreling, talagang talamak na ‘to para umamot ng konting panggasta o pantawid-gutom… kahit sa gitna ng EDSA, tiyak na may isa o dalawang gusgusin na kokokak, kakalampag ng konting barya sa sasakyang nakahinto.

‘Yang pagkanta’y katumbas ng dalawang ulit na pagdarasal. Talagang hinuhugot sa bukal o bukang puso’t puson ang ipupulandit na awit.

Tatlong ulit na dalangin naman daw ang katumbas ng taimtim na pananahimik… hinuhugot kasi sa budhi at katinuan ng isip ang pananahimik—exempted naman dito ‘yung walang katinuan, walang isip at walang budhi.

Sa paligsahan ng PSP, kabilang ako sa tahimik na ‘kikinig lang, ‘kikibahagi sa pagdiriwang sa diwa ng pagsilang ng Manunubos, pagpaslang sa mga manunuba.

Good luck sa mga lalahok na katoto’t kasangga at hayaan ninyong batiin ko kayo ng Happy Valentine…

Blind item

2010-12-02T20:38:00.000-08:00

SIRIT na…

Hindi sagot sa hulaan o bugtungan ang tinutukoy ng “sirit” sa wikang Batangan… pulandit o bulwak ng laman-loob, ihi’t dugo ang talagang tinutukoy.

Maraming pinaglaruang babae si Iton… at isang gabi nga habang suray ang lakad galing sa inuman, may umakbay sa kanyang kakilala… ni hindi nahagip kahit sa gilid ng paningin ang iglap na igkas-tuklaw ng balisong sa tagiliran ng dibdib… buong hinay na iniupo pa siya sa tabi ng kalsada. Saka lumakad palayo ang salarin… marahan, parang walang ginawang marahas.

Sirit mula sugat sa puso ang dugo ni Iton… nagmapa’t namuo ang kimpal sa aspalto… sa mismong pagkakaupo nalagutan ng hininga. Poetic justice for a debt of honor. Naging sukli daw sa daming puso’t puson na tinarakan ng biktima… hindi na nakilala pa ang salarin.

Sa mga blind item na lang itinatapat ang “sirit” sa ngayon, ‘pag hindi mahulaan ang tinutukoy… hindi na madugo’t masansang.

Sa malagim na pagpaslang sa mga mag-inang Estrellita, Carmela at Jennifer Vizconde noong 1991, lumutang ang mga kutob at haka-haka na kilala raw sa lugar ang mga salarin… pero walang tumuga sa pulisya o hukuman liban sa iisang saksi… may mga pangkatin pa raw na lumapit noon kay Lauro Vizconde, sila ang bahalang “magligpit” sa mga tunay na kapural ng krimen… para maigawad daw ang totoong katarungan… para sumikat—may media mileage siyempre. (Kung totoong may street justice vigilante groups, ba’t hindi na lang nila itinuloy ang “pagliligpit” kahit walang basbas ang Lauro?)

Laman na naman ng mga balita ang “Vizconde Masaker”—kumikilos kasi ang pamilyang Webb para mapawalang-sala si Hubert, isa sa anim na hinatulan nitong Enero 2000 ng reclusion perpetua o karaniwang 23 taon sa kulungan…

At lumulutang muli ang intrigang blind item… hulaan kung sino ang tinutukoy ni Lauro Vizconde na mahistrado ng Korte Suprema na nagsabi sa kanya na isa raw sa kapwa mahistrado ang “lumalakad” para mabaligtad ang hatol sa kaso.

Mahistrado #1 ang bumulong kay Vizconde sa hindi kanais-nais na Mahistrado #2 na bumubulong naman sa kapwa taga-Korte Suprema.

Sirit na kung sino sila?

Tumestigo raw sa panig ng akusado ang Mahistrado #2… baka kaya ang tinutukoy, si Senior Associate Justice Antonio Carpio na tumestigo nga noon?

Pero nang mapabilang siya sa Korte Suprema, ni hindi na nga sumawsaw sa naturang kaso… delicadeza kasi, kahihiyan at kagandahang-asal… saka ganoon ang itinatakda ng mga alituntunin ng hudikatura.

Oo nga pala, maraming Carpio sa Batangas… and they should know honorable demeanor and what it takes to uphold that.

Laway lang naman ang isisirit kung sakali ni Vizconde. Ibunyag na niya kung sino ba talaga sina Mahistrado #1 (na nagsumbong sa kanya, totoo kaya ang sumbong o baka tumbong?) at Mahistrado #2.

Baka may gagawa uli ng pelikula (Sirit Na Part 2?) kaya gumagawa na naman ng mga intriga’t blind item…

And these do not serve the interest of honor, justice or truth.

Potential of hydrogen

2010-12-01T19:35:00.000-08:00

OUT-and-out out— RP for rust in piss, rumbling pennies. So, so in: PH which can be construed as the “potential of hydrogen” to swing from tartness to bitterness, the so-called pH scale to measure acidity or alkalinity of a substance…

It’s now a tad easier to figure out the sort of substance in the Pinoy biochemistry… there are bitter sorts and orts limping in Momordica charantia sentiments and wrinkles, may mga matindi talaga ang asim, and there are those who go limpid as distilled water with a neutral 7-- the vaginal pH of prepubescent girls and damsels on into menopause…

A gourmet can relish the hydrogen potential spectrum taking equal mouthfuls of pinapaitan (bile-flavored stew of goat innards) and sinampalukang manok (spring chicken in a consommé of condiments spiked with tamarind shoots)… and a headstrong—no sugar please— brew of Coffea arabica goes well with paksiw na bangus (milkfish simmered in palm vinegar, spices and veggies) for breakfast… that bitter brew of suds go well with a ceviche of anchovies.

Kahit ilang paligo, kaskas ng papel de liha’t buhos ng balde-baldeng pabango, lumulutang pa rin ang sansang ng asido muriatiko’t panis na kaning-baboy sa katawan ng mga ‘kakasukang tao… bakit gano’n?

Such sourpuss bipeds are aplenty… bellyaching is a consuming obsession for such sour grapes… a website points to the dispositions that touch off dour biochemistry in such yaks… “(1) Hate lowers the pH to become more acidic.”

So does “(2) fear, (3) anarchy, (4) distrust, and (5) vengeance” crank up body acidity which likely leads to acidosis.

Symptoms betray sourpuss types: “(1) insomnia; (2) frequent sighing; (3) water retention; (4) toxins accumulate, the person turns toxic; (4) migraine headaches; (5) difficulty swallowing; (6) stamina and mood decline; (7) abnormally low blood pressure; (8) lousy performance in physical activities—including those done in bed."

Other sour symptoms include “(9) bumps on the tongue or roof of mouth; (10) impaired vitamin and mineral absorption; (11) wrecked biota—balance of microorganisms within and outside the body-- as friendly bacteria and fungi prone to mutate into destructive types; (12) dry, hard and/or smelly stools; (13) rheumatoid arthritis; and (14) burning sensation in the mouth.”

A healthy human body is a tad tart—between 6.1 and 7.0 on the pH scale… that limits the growth of harmful microorganisms—and fosters growth of friendly bacteria and fungi-- within and without.

As for the all-time favorite delicacy, findings show “a healthy vagina produces a normal discharge which acts as a natural cleanser and when maintaining an acidic pH level of 3.5 to 4.5 (very acidic), it keeps a balance between healthy and unhealthy bacteria, fungi and viruses in that area.”

As for the potential of hydrogen, it’s numero uno in the table of elements, the lightest there is… yet, it can go into the making of thermonuclear weaponry, the sort that delivers mass destruction.

O, ilaw ng hilaw

2010-11-30T00:48:00.000-08:00

MERON bang aso na sasagpang sa amo kapag hindi pinakain? Wala yata.

Aba, sinaunang paniwala na bawas sa malas at masamang karma ang pagpapakain sa aso. Nagbabadya nga ang magandang kapalaran at tagumpay kung makakasalubong ng aso na may sakmal na pagkain sa bunganga…

Sa ilang nayon ng Pambuan sa Gapan, Nueva Ecija natatandaan pa marahil ang kung ilang himala-- nagpagaling sa mga maysakit, nagtaboy ng mga mandarambong at nagbungkal ng nakabaong gusi ng ginto ang aso daw ni San Roque…

Kaya imahen niyong aso ang sinasabitan ko ng tuhog ng sampagita hanggang sa ngayon… maisasama sa paglilitis sa mga Ampatuan at kampon… baka magbungkal ng itinatagong kayamanan… kapag may sinagpang… nilamon nang buhay, tinding katibayan na may magandang kapalaran at tagumpay kung makakakita ng asong may sakmal na tipak ng pagkain.

Naumpisahan kasi sa pagpapakain sa alaga… kung sigbin, kailangang duruin ang daliri’t ipasipsip ang dugo… gano’n din raw kung mga kulisap na pambarang ang alaga… mas mainam ngang pumili na lang ng biktima para lapangin ng sigbin o kulisap-barangan.

Sa kung ilan na ring panayam sa mga nag-iingat ng agimat at karunungang lihim, nagtutustos din pala sila ng pagkain sa kanilang mga alaga. Kailangan palang busugin. Para hindi magtampo. Para hindi raw sila iwanan o balikan ng bigwas. O maghingalo, tuluyang mamatay sa gutom ang inaalagaan…

Hindi naman pala pihikan sa pagkain ang kanilang mga “alaga.”

Hindi tulad ng kaliyab na dilag mula Seoul, South Korea… papansinin kang kulang daw ang katawan sa ilaw o biophotons—mula mga pagkaing hilaw, karaniwang organically grown vegetables pero kasama na rin ang lantak sa netherlands o ang lawak ng ari-ariang lupalop na may halimuyak ng baba, eh—kaya hindi raw maglalagablab, hindi magliliwanag… walang makikita sa dilim.

At kapag kulang ang katawan sa biophotons o liwanag ng buhay, tiyak na ang singkapan ay laging matamlay… hindi makakayang maglaro ng apoy o magliyab kahit sulsulan ng kaliyag. (Hindi rin makabuo ng bata…)

Ayon sa mga nakapanayam, ang mga iniingatan daw nila’y tila matimtimang birhen na nakukuha-- ang poder-- sa dalangin.

Talagang pinapakain ng dalangin. Isinasagawa ang kainan bago matulog sa gabi’t pagkagising sa umaga.

Aba’y parang katumbas ng ideya sa constant supply of information… nabungkal kamakailan sa Scientific American, information converts to energy… at lapat din sa pangangalaga sa mga agimat at karunungang lihim… kapag lubusang natutustusan ng ganoon ang iniingatan, tiyak na matindi ang energy level… powerhouse.

Pero kapag puyat sa walang katapusang laklak o talak, tiyak na makakaligtaan ang pagpapakain bago matulog sa gabi… mawawaglit na rin pati pakain pagkagising sa umaga, tiyak na hilo sa liping o hang-over…

Natukoy na rin lang na information converts to energy, that ought to explain why there’s perpetual power outage for the uninformed… kaya walang binatbat ang mga gunggong.

Growing up gratefully

2010-11-28T22:48:00.000-08:00

BAKA matagpuan pa ni Inay sa mga salansan niya ng samut-sari sa eskaparate, aparador, tokador o baul ang nawaglit na larawan…

(1)sambungkos halos ng saging, sa unang piling ay katabi ang tagapayong Bb. Elizabeth Lim, guro sa physics… nakangisi dahil nag-iisang tinik at halal na pangulo ng klase, high school algebra champion, kahanay ng pumpon na pawang buko ng rosas.

(2)nakatindig na buong katawang kuha kay Shelley Magnaye, naging kasuyo sa kolehiyo… may halimuyak ng hininga ng mga bulaklak ng kape, suha, at mangga ang bibig… nakabahid ang makopa’t takipsilim sa mga pisngi… kambal na milon ang dibdib, batis na mapaglulunuyan ang balakang… diklap ng buntala at talim-balisong sa ningning ng mga mata.

Naganyak na ipahalungkat ang ilang nakalarawang gunita matapos marinig ang Manila Hotel lobby string quartet teasing out some months back a 1969 Dennis Yost and the Classics IV standard… “Faded photographs covered now with lines and creases, tickets torn in half, memories of bits and pieces, traces of love long ago that didn’t work out right.”

Mangingilo pati ngipin: tigmak sa pulot-kabayo, may tamis-pait ang titik niyong awit… na kaya pang kapain ang himig sa gitara tulad ng maalab na kapa sa sari-saring kuwerdas ng hugis-gitarang katawan ng naging kaliyag… na hindi nakatuluyan.

Walang nakatuluyan ang aming naging tagapayo… walang nagkatuluyan sa ‘min… pulos lelang at lelong na ang mga dating kaklase, may kani-kaniyang ilalahad na professions and confessions. Hagalpakan ng halakhak kapag ikinumpisal na pinagnasaan noon sina… kasikatan ni Merle Fernandez-- who now runs an antique shop in Kamuning, Quezon City—sa pelikulang bomba.

Nagkakatalastasan pa rin kaming magkakaklase sa Facebook, e-mails… nagkakayayaang magtipon tuwing may magbabalikbayan mula sa kung saan-saang ibayong lupalop… salu-salo, konting toma, saganang kuwentuhan, kumustahan, kantahan.

‘Tanda na kami… "It's coming to the realization that you are who you are, you like who you are, and you are happy with who you are. The rest is a walk in the park."

Alas-siete ng umaga ang pinakauna naming aralin, Good Manners and Right Conduct… “Growing Up Gracefully” ang gabay na aklat… 1968 is way too far to look back in fondness… we’re grown-ups… hopefully, we have grace as well.

Naipanguna sa naunang sinulat dito: “Grace is not prayer before a meal. It is a way of life.”

May mas matinding kataga kaysa biyaya o lamyos— shibumi, effortless perfection, uplifting the ordinary from the commonplace into the realm of the extra-ordinary.

Sabi nga ni Aristotle, “We are what we repeatedly do.”

Flicking out a blade in iaido fashion is an endless refrain sung day to day… writing this way is an incessant stream off a wellspring… tending to a clutch of plants or harnessing vital energies in meditative flurry of punches is a continuing flow…

‘Tanda ko na pala.

Misogi harai

2010-11-28T18:51:00.000-08:00

GINAGAMIT—ginagamot din—ng mga salita ang gumagamit sa mga ito. Gamit na, gamot pa.

The choice of words reflects a chosen culture—“and everything that goes with it,” paglilinaw ng isang kaututang-dila sa Facebook.

Heto nga. Sa halip na panata o pangilin, pinili ang kataga na ang katuturan ay nakabatay sa pagiging bihasa sa ilang sining tanggulan—aikido, iaido, kobudo, karatedo…

Baka may “pata” (mabilis ang bigkas na tumuturol sa pagpapagal, pagpapagod) sa panata. Tiyak na may nagkukubling “pangil” sa pangilin.

Lubusang ibabangon, ilalantad ng misogi harai ang pagpapagal—hindi pagbagal kundi masinsinang pagsisinop sa pinagsanayan. Lalantad pati ikinukubling pangil.

Now, culture—usually agar from seaweed plus protein extract from beef-- is a brew of nutrients on which microorganisms can feed, move, live and thrive in. Ganoon din ang pakinabang o silbi ng kultura—mas malinamnam lasapin sa isipan ang “kalinangan” mula “linang” or field of growth and activity-- sa lipunan.

Mas masalimuot na yata ang lipunan at umiiral na kalinangan. Kaya isinilang… at isinalang ang nulture—a fusion of nurture and culture, pinagsanib na kinamulatang gawi at ang piniling gawaing paglilinang pansarili. Kani-kaniyang diskarte sa pamumuhay.

Minsan santaon kung magdaos ako ng misogi harai… it’s a pilgrimage of sorts to reacquaint the spirit with the underlying elemental forces that go into the martial skills and ways one has taken up and taken to as a way of life.

It’s going back to one’s roots—nice to find out how deep and how far such roots of being went. Uurong para lalo pang sumulong. Sa dulo ng urong-sulong ang kasukdulan ng orgasmo. Ang hindi lumilingon sa pinanggalingan, nanlalata na ang katawan, hindi pa tinitigasan…

May banaag at sikat—sala’am at salamat po, Gat Lope K. Santos na isa sa mga ama ng balarila ng ating wika-- ng dharmadhyana (ch’an, zen) o hakbang ng diwa sa piniling landas… ‘yun ang nasa ubod ng misogi harai… mahahalungkat sa mga alamat na gawi ng bathala at kaliyag na bathaluman… na tinularan ng mga monghe’t ermitanyo na ang pinakasikat nga’y si Bodhidharma, Daruma o Ta Mo—na kapural ng qigong na nagluwal ng samut-saring sining… tai chi, kung fu, karatedo…

Nanghihiram tayo ng mga salita mula iba’t ibang wika… hindi lang parang pumitas ng matamis na bunga mula nakalaylay na sanga mula kabilang bakod… tiyak na taglay ng bunga ang katangian ng puno, pati na lupang tinubuan nito… sasalin ang kamandag o lamukot sa lalantak ng bunga…

Baka nga matapos lumantak, itatanim sa sariling bakuran ang binhi ng nilantakan… mula sa hiniram o sinikwat lang, may sisibol na pananim. Lalago. Mamumunga.

So words use us as we use words… we shape them, they shape us.

Still in pretty great shape here, dear.

Paputak

2010-11-28T18:42:00.000-08:00

HINDI pa ipinagbabawal ang mga tanga’t gunggong.

Kaya lumabas man sa isang ulat na bawal na raw ang paputok, watusi man o weapons of mass destruction, hindi naman bawal ang paputak.

Laway at lalamunan na may itatagal sa maghapon at magdamag na putak ang kailangan upang isalubong sa paglisan ng lumang taon, pagpasok ng bagong taon.

Kasabihan nang pinagsanib ng Lumikha ang saradong utak at walang humpay na putak… small minds fit into loudmouths… at naglipana sa paligid ang ganitong kakatwang gunggong na animal.

Puputak lang ang inahin na nakalimlim sa pugad kapag may handog na itlog… parang nanganganak ang pangingitlog, hihilab din, iiri bago lubusang lumabas sa puwerta ang pinaghirapan. At patalastas nga ang putak, may bagong lagak na galak—na sagana sa protina.

Bawal ang paputok. Hindi bawal ang tanga’t gunggong—mamamayagpag pa ang paputak. Na ubrang tipunin saanmang liwasan, sulsulang pumutak nang pumutak, magsaboy ng halitosis sa hangin… para masabi nga naman ng sambayanan na meron silang nagawa… mas angkop, nangawa.

Naging tradisyon kasi ng ingay at usok ang pagdiriwang ng bawat bagong taon. Pantaboy daw ng malas ang ingay, pambingwit sa suwerte… kahit naman tilapia o tursilyo ang bibingwitin, mabubulabog sa ingay… lalayo sa bingwit.

Kung wala rin lang balak magsayang ng pera sa pailaw, maaaring maglagay na lang ng siyam na mirasol o kandila sa bahaging timog ng tahanan… sa paniwalang feng shui, sa timog nakadambana ang kinabukasan, ang hinaharap, at kasikatan.

Sa mga nagnanasang sumikat, dapat na sinupin ang bahaging timog sa pamamahay… there’s no way to go but up when you’ve done south.

Apoy at mga kulay na pula’t kahel ang nakatalaga sa timog… hindi lang bagong taon kundi kinabukasan ang saklaw dito— angkop na lagyan ng ihawan, fireplace, muwebles na kahoy… mga palamuting matulis o hugis-tatsulok, ay, hugis tatsulok nga pala ang malinamnam na carne sur…

Sa timog nakaluklok ang puwerta… na kahit maglabas man ng itlog, madalas na tikom ang labia nito… tahimik… payapa, tiwasay.

Mas kapani-paniwala ang naglalako ng isda, gulay, o kakanin… maghapon man ang bulwak ng bunganga ukol sa inilalakong paninda, tiyak may maipapakitang katibayan ng itinitinda… and that’s a lot of edibility and credibility… so who’s buying hogwash peddled off at all hours?

Pero kapag ganitong bawal na nga ang mga paputok, kahit pulos mintis ang mga paputak, baka sila na ang mapagbalingan ng balanang nasanay sa salaulang paghahasik ng usok at ingay sa hangin sa pagsapit ng bagong taon.

That’s how Filipinoise do it.