dark horse

It grazes the field
like silenced steps
at the full of the moon
on a disregarded
ground that creates
small clouds of dirt.

It is among the herd
of common likes
representing a kind
of a cloven hoof mark
on the moistened soil,
on sharp streaks of grass.

It must have been
a thought that this horse
is as dark as its desires
but it is actually
as black as its
bereavement.

It halts in a moment,
then moves
all of a sudden
as if the mocking wind
had told the creature
to run away as fast as it could.

It is misunderstood
like an unwanted
browning leaf
trying to share
its color on the
lush sprawling greens.

It does not wait
for anyone to call
its attention for the
rest are brazenly foal
and the denouement,
it just won a race.
_________________________________________________________

into the blogosphere

It started with someone’s personal record of online websites he had visited—a mere list. It was boring.

Envisioned as an “online diary community” by Andrew Smales, a 29-year-old computer programmer in Toronto, Canada, he made his very own efficient and user-friendly software.

Then, a person in the name of John Barger, an American high school valedictorian who seriously specialized in math and science, first coined the term “weblog” (from the term “wee blog”). He made the first do-it-yourself “Pitas” blog tool in July 1999 after years of hardworking deliberations. At the moment, blog tool services are offered freely such as Live Journal, Word Press, Xanga, and Blogger of Pyra Labs, which is now under Google.

Blogging has now become a global phenomenon.

Truly, blogging is the hottest fad in cyberspace, presently taking the limelight over emails and chat rooms. Numerous innovations continually sprout each year from linking with other networking sites to CSS, with the sky as the limit. And to give some small samplings, here are some blogsite recommendations which you might find interesting.

Firstly, to treat the creative side of every artist, here’s a blog to satisfy their panache—Drawn! Yup, drawn! The site is for anybody who loves to draw. A multi-author blog purely devoted to paintings, various illustrations, and drawings, the blog aims to “inspire creativity by sharing links and resources [art].” Even if you’re not a Pablo Picasso or a Malang, you’ll surely enjoy checking or even contributing to those posted works.
For photography enthusiasts, Jake Verzosa’s blog, the Joyride, gives us a glimpse of a frustrated guitarist who now carries a camera. Featuring pictures of the miscellaneous category, this blog shows not only the stern-and-crisp side of photography, but also those simple scenes our inattentive eyes always manage to let pass.

Going for something less museum-y, there’s Jonas Diego’s The Blurb! He’s a close buddy of komiks genius Gerry Alanguilan (Wasted and the Elmer series), and he handles the Philippine Operations of Interactive Art Services. In his blog, there are some comic strip excerpts for all.

Nature lovers will become fascinated with this Greenpeace environmental blog. Check for the latest happenings onboard M/Y Esperanza as it goes around the world fighting pollution.

And for the literati group, a number of blogs can be enjoyed just like Dean Alfar’s Notes from the Peanut Gallery. A blog geared mostly for his literature rant-ons, occasional wandering thoughts, and tasks towards his “litcritters,” you’ll enjoy not only the posts but also its corresponding violent and colourful reactions.

Inside PCIJ gives you the heat. This blog explodes with the important issues from journalist killings to minimizing alcoholism among the youth, or tracing the roots of land reform in the Philippines, and the punching fists of Pacqiuao! Now you could know what gets into the head of a journalist!

If cooking is your flair, this distinctive Pinoy Cook blog offers a number of cooking tips, techniques, and sumptuous recipes that you can whip up. Handled by Connie Veneracion, she stated in her site that “this blog is about the meals I cook for the family.” She was greatly influenced by her grandmother and her father who cook delicious Chinese dishes.

If the tunes forming the soundtracks of our every day aren’t enough, amble onto cyberspace and take a visit to Kristine and Luis are Listening. You find just about everything from the latest music trends to upcoming concerts in the country.

Want something of the vintage kind? Nostalgia Manila is the best place to stumble into posts ranging from the Bataan power plant, vintage Nora Aunor movie posters, Voltes 5 end credits, and even to the forgotten wonders of PLDT’s Rotary Phone!

Techthisout is for those gadget-loving, game-playing members of our generation. If you’re one of the techies, explore this blog.

There’s also a blog for us who are interested in learning more about our very own country, the Filipino Librarian. This blog which is produced by a Filipino for the Filipinos, is as entertaining as it is informative.

And fittingly enough, we end with something close to home. Go to the blog para sa mga bisdak! Bisaya Bloggers is another networking site which also focuses on events, tourist attractions, and anything about the Visayas and Mindanao regions.

here's to you word nerd!

Our Filipino language with all its intricacies may have a very rich and deep cultural value within our nationalistic identity, yet it is hard to deny that English is certainly one of the richest in over 3,000 world languages.

Upon receiving my writing task for the week, Fate lightened my task when I stumbled upon a book that was gathering dust in an unheeded corner of my house—a little tattered yellowing book entitled “Oddities: In words, pictures, and figures.”

Some may say, “Huh! I am totally good in English since I can speak this and write that.” But actually a few of us can only manage to master only even a fraction of the mysteries the English language possesses. Geoffrey Chaucer, one of the greatest English poets whose masterpiece, The Canterbury Tales, is considered a landmark on the development of the English literature, had only employed an amazing 8000 different words in all of his writings! And 200 years later, William Shakespeare had a astounding written vocabulary of 30,000 words! Who can match that?

Limited as we may be, I offer for our enjoyment a few games made by brilliant minds starting from the Greek poet Sotades of the 3rd century BC, to the writer of Alice in Wonderland Lewis Carroll, and so on.
AnagramsAnagrams are transpositions of the letters of a word or phrase to form a new word or phrase, or at its simplest form, a phrase or name that can be rearranged to form another. To add more of a kick to this word play, most anagram addicts require a sterner rule: “to explain or describe the word from which it is made.”

An example is the phrase “voices rant on,” which is an exact anagram of the word “conversation.” Also, “steaminess” is just a result of reshuffling the words “seen as mist.” Anagrams even played a critical role in The Da Vinci Code.

Antigrams
Antigrams, on the other hand, are simply the counterparts of anagrams. If the anagrams get into their synonymous meanings, antigrams get into their antonyms. They are anagrams in which the letters of a word are reorganized to form a word or phrase to mean the opposite of the original. “Evangelists,” for instance, can satirically be reformed into “evil’s agents.”
DoubletsThese doublets were quite a hit before. Even before crossword puzzles and the crazy Sudokus in the pages of newspapers and magazines, there were doublets! Lewis Caroll is also well renowned for his exceptional skill in composing these outrageous mind-bogglers.

The procedure is just to take two related words of the same length, such as ‘grass’ and ‘green,’ and to transform the first into the second by a series of one-letter changes, each of which must strictly form another word. Proper names are exempted and all words must appear in a standard dictionary. Victory is declared to the person who takes the fewest number of words to make the change.

And here’s one solution in proving that GRASS are really GREEN: GRASS, CRASS, CRESS, TRESS, TREES, FREES, FREED, GREED, GREEN.

Palindromes
This is the most exceptional, if not exhausting, word play among the rest. The aim is to produce the longest sentence in which it could be read the same backwards as they do forwards. Sounds challenging though, it could excrete all your analytical juices and sharpen your mind skills. If you want to make your world side-reversed, then you may delve into this activity.

Since a few in this century have been contemplating onto these palindromes, the idea is now slightly left to experts and diehard lovers of palindromes. Palindromic sentences have a long and distinguished history. It is said to be that the poet Sotades invented the palindromes, and in his honour, palindromes are sometimes called as “Sotadics.” And also, John Taylor is believed to be the first creator of an English palindrome. His famous masterpiece, which was acceptable by the spelling standards of his time, is: “Lewd did I live & evil I did dwel.” Reading the sentence from the left and from the right, you still get the same message. That is how palindromes work.

Tongue Twisters
And the most famous of them all, tongue twisters! Experts are still currently probing as to where and when these tongue twisters originated. A number of these tongue twisters are pretty sensible but mostly absurd, and what the rhymes are actually about is quite unclear.

Here are some examples to get your tongue looping around:

A bloke’s back brake-block broke
A dozen double damask dinner napkins
Stop chop shops selling chopped shop chops
A truly rural frugal ruler’s mural

And here are some more oddities to finish the day:

1) A reasonably common word which contains all vowels, each used once, and in their correct alphabetical order?

2) A word which contains the letters “tchphr” grouped together in the middle?

3) A word with more than 15 letters in which the only vowel is E?

4) A word which contains three pairs of identical letters, each pair coming directly after the one before?

5) The shortest common word to use each of the five vowels only once?

Let's see if you can answer these.

falling short

There are some stories that are not worth spending your time reading with and there are some that battle your malleable perceptions -- open that closed mind of yours. And here's one particular story that everyone ought to read for you to understand why I usually say:

"There's no such thing as F, we are just together."

http://www.fables.org/winter04/bullfrog.html

Thanks Anna.

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the two people they could have met in heaven

Three pairs. Six entrance tickets.

Lights glimmer amidst the backdrop of numerous multicolored wheering contraptions, a thousand clothes that wait in vain before it encounters the thousand-and-one hand, and a night that is filled with ubiquitous hourly chit-chats.

And there it is, busily spinning around with its post-metallic skeleton looking as aged as the looks of the handler’s smile and as fragile as the wallet of the nearby gambler.

The 3.2 megapixel camera is ready.

We had a holistic day last Saturday, November 18 2006. For the linguistic capabilities part, I became an instant quizmaster for a certain inter-high school competition in the morning of which I had given out science and tech questions and elaborately mouthed the perfect spelling words (a lot failed in this category)! The good deed of the day? We cleaned the tWS office! For sports, most of the tWS staffers went for a Kickball game that lasted for about an hour with our clothes looking like it was newly washed. For a cool memory enhancer, we reminisced high school IQ tests of which I fairly won over Dodong Jan Jan (ha ha). There’s only one thing that didn’t live up to what we had planned: we failed to watch a movie at night that we longed for a long time ago.

In order to cover up the unexpected and disappointing turn of events that night and to stretch our high spirits, we went to the all time Pinoy favorite, the Perya. Upon nearing the entrance, our smiles were so wide that I think I could have felt mine reaching both tips of my ears.

I was so glad that when I had entered the enclosed colorful niche within and the moment I had seen the first ride, my mindset was to get on it as soon as possible; no more decision-decisions, no more turning back. And when everyone agreed, we all went into the Ferris Wheel -- the one that had open carriages.

Dirg and Cloudy went together as the first pair (who obviously were the most excited in the group), I was left with Marianne since she had no partner too because the last two persons were now paired way before the idea of perya struck us; they are Dodong Jan Jan and Donna.

We seated snuggly into our open-air compartment – I even wriggled my toes in front of me and felt the cold 8:45 evening wind as the gears began to turn. I was happy. We were happy. But we never knew that this innocent ride could be sinister after a few minutes:

The wheel turned slowly.
I croaked merrily.
The whole ride stopped.
Our compartment was at the topmost part.
I grabbed my camera.
I looked for angles that encompass the whole joyous night.
I found the perfect angle.
I purposely held the camera behind us.
The whole carriage swung forward.
We nearly fell –
a near death experience.

In a matter of millimeters, our lives could have ended earlier than expected. Being a picture freak, I could not resist the clicking and flashing of the camera especially that we were at the top among the rest – the view was just superbly picturesque. But then the whole enthusiasm faltered in an instant when the pull of gravity was in front of us that made us to unpredictably lunged forward, sweated coldly, and spoke immediate words of wisdom. It is a good thing that our natural instincts got ahead of our numbed thinking very fast; we instantaneously sit upright in our seats frigid making the whole compartment stayed on its right balance. Phew. Mar, I am sorry.

If it couldn’t have happened that way, well surely I daresay there will be two people the heavens would welcome openly. Yeah heaven, not the other way around. And one more news, Dodong Jan Jan was also awestruck and mute for seconds after the ride, not because he was mesmerized but because his heart clogged his throat.

For short, that was close.
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under red blood skies

When freedom comes at the cost of life, and life at the cost of freedom, what is there left to do?

World War II ushered in one of the darkest moments in Silliman’s history. Death came with screams from blazing red planes in flashes of light and fire. Darkness loomed over Silliman University, with the Japanese rifle taking full reign, casting gloom and fear over the American-inhabited city beside the sea.

“Clouds By Day and Fire By Night: The Silliman Story” by Drs. Paul Lauby, Proceso Udarbe, and Jennifer Lauby, recounts the significant events that have conditioned this university into what we know today. From there we learn that upon arrival, the Japanese brought Silliman and Dumaguete into great degradation. And it is this suffering of innocent people that terribly fanned the flames of passionate faith and action.

People escaped to the hills and various barrios, such as Malabo several kilometres away from the city. The students and faculty hid in the most unthinkable areas, and they suffered from scarcity of food, shelter, medicines, and other basic necessities. Some even resorted to dwell in caves. But the Sillimanian commitment to care and to educate was never undermined, and they made a mission field out of the mountains and barrios.

There was even a time when Japanese troops found a barrio and burned it to the last nipa hut. But, fortunately, a spy aided the Silliman refugees to flee.

Mountain treks encompassed dangerous terrains towards the sea, seeking help from clandestine American submarines and ships waiting for them at shore. Though not everyone was saved from the Japanese atrocities, there were those who survived until the aliens finally fled—living on to tell their story.

Life seemed to only go uphill from there. But years later, the sky was yet again beset with horror and strife. On September 21, 1972, the whole country was declared under Martial Law.

Manila certainly had most of the publicity during the Marcos’ regime, with all the rambles and trend of unexplainable deaths. But Visayas and Mindanao suffered just as well under the Marcos manipulations, with Dumaguete’s renowned Silliman University given special attention in the Visayas region.

In the year 1972, four universities across the Philippines were closed, including Silliman University and University of the Philippines. The Weekly Sillimanian and the student government were forcibly closed as ordered. Dr. Nichol Elman was actually the last SG president before the body was closed.

On January 15, 1972, the Movement for a Democratic Philippines (MDP) led other affiliates like Kabataang Makabayan (KM), among others, to protest. Even women groups like Kilusan ng Bagong Kababaihan (MAKIBAKA) called on all progressive women to join forces with the national movement in altering the cruel and unfair system the Philippines had.

Even the idea of a Silliman Cultural Center (which we now know as the Claire Isabel McGil Luce Auditorium) faced some controversies. One can imagine how, in those years, an innocent construction plan was regarded as a “treasonous act against national democracy.”

Even if Sillimanians were also hailed among the world’s most outstanding artists and performers, the university paper at that time linked Marcos, as well as the Silliman Cultural Center, to American imperialism, domestic feudalism, and bureaucrat capitalism, stating, “It is a project that will only become symbols of senseless extravagance in the midst of widespread poverty.”

Amidst the string of adversities, these ages of confusion and antagonism have shaped in the Silliman student’s mind the skills of responsible civic duty and loyalty. It is in times of war and conflict that the human spirit is at its worst, or at its finest. And those times have prompted us to adapt and live our lives not with fear, but with a Godly resolve to face and conquer them.

In a world that hates evil more than it loves good, a Sillimanian offers hope under blood red skies.

_____________________________________________________

fish of men

Lain on any places, these fish
with eyes wide open
seeing the vastness
of its surroundings, wating for their advent.

Once swimming in their abode
under the waters of uncertain bleakness,
currently displayed juxtaposed
for every men to savor their deaths.

-written last January 26, 2006 inspired by a triptych of pen & ink illustrations

entitled "At the Market" made by someone
____________________________________________________

small works

Grasps on Greens

Yup, a small work indeed. And it is literal, this is small – and not the kind of small that is extremely minute – about 15 inches by 10 inches. Before I have enrolled for the coming semester, my knots had once again loosened all by itself and made me grab a pencil, a paper, and ink last week. Probably an effect of too much procrastinating on matters equivalent of a candy with a free toy earring at the nearest sari-sari store, my hands busied on something arty – I guess.

And here are some works that I had made before, hmmm way back in August 2005. Don't get fooled, the illustrations are not the same.

Triptych: Wine & Entertainers

- the artwork, Triptych: Wine & Entertainers, was one of the many pieces

exhibited at the SU Main Library last March 2006,

organized by the Silliman Guild of Artist (Silgarians).

__________________________________________

enroll now, school later!

Recovering from a traumatizing discovery last week (which is founding out that our backyard’s resident weeds are taller than me), and as if everything that I would be discovering is upgrading its intensity by the minute, I pack my things up, go back to Dum Dum, and settle things that are as important as my toothbrush.

About two hours of sitting in vain in a fastcraft may have sterilized my mind for a big pile of dirt that I am going to plunge on the following hour. Upon reaching the pristine(?) and beautiful(?) pier of Dum Dum, hah, energy level is at its highest peak – zooms towards the boarding house then zooms back in the campus. I should have been the perfect endorser of Lipovitan when I receive the most terrifying subject grade in my course-major’s life! Bogs. My energy plummeted down to the nth point. Looking at the bright side, at the least I did not fail.

But the fact remains that it is below sea-level in my personal criteria, I stay as jolly as Jollibee at lunch time.

Before even hearing more morbid news, I warm myself up by taking a peek on my past test papers pasted in my shriveled notebook while munching a piece of beef steak that should make me happy. Yeah, that Big Bee kept on reminding us “Bee Happy” so they should have put on a Happy Potion on that meal to make their adage more empathetic and believable – but nothing happens; same mood and worse, same grade.

If I could just roar (okay, okay… croak) in someone’s face for the root of this bad fate, I did it right after receiving those silly numbers! But as always, humility pulls me down that voids me from doing more stupid actions. Then forcing myself to be more optimistic, I let out a sigh and breathe deeply, “I’m enrolled.”

Today I am only thinking of the perfect date of going back in Dum Dum since I will be going home later. Hmmm…. I don’t know! Let time kill itself – I have more important dealings than thinking of when should I be entering a classroom. Hah, till here. Let us enjoy the remaining days of our break; enroll now, school later, and go to the beach!

__________________________________________________

the pain in campaign

Poof! I was back into reality after a six hour sleep. I was irritated by the fact that in these days where words spoken are not enough to persuade the woolliest-headed guy in town and where God-given looks has measly influence to the cold blooded lady on the last row of seat, I was once again back into my responsibility of living up to my position – doing the best as I can do; showing the “little ones” what is done, how it is done, and why should it be done. And I think I did the whole thing poorly.

I must warn you, sentences ahead are directly proven by my very pessimistic self as objectively compulsive; it brings blood from your insides gushing out your nose. Now that you are in this part, do the thinking fast and decide!

Glossy brochures, biased posters, pastel colored flyers that rival the Teletubbies, bookmarks that are thought to be stickers, and a thick stash of application forms, we were all set to campaign. Minus the cheesy oratorical speeches that harmonized upbeat song numbers along gyrating sexy ladies on a caravan, we went from this school to that school like we had just simply strolled in a mall.

Little do most people know that given the task to discuss something that I have just recently been in part of, I openly say I was not that effective in throwing out testimonies in front of a crowd – the crowd. Yeah, the crowd might only have numbered from 30 to 80 but they were still plenty (there’s no point knowing what crowd it is). I may have lurked in some corners that only a few have tread on and that made my Experience Level abruptly upgraded to a certain height, but I admit I have this feeling that always irked my tongue to shrink in shame whenever the Need of Boast comes. Was it just a result of humility or I really had a problem with myself?

Ever since, I can never escape the pain in the essence of campaign. If I may suggest, all dictionary-makers-council or whatever they are called should re-spell that silly word Campaign into Campain! Remove the “G” and let the fresh references go on printing and distribute them worldwide as soon as possible!

Tradition? Yeah, yeah… we were all excited to continue this tradition and blurb out anything we wanted to say (but still with precautionary standards). There were even no thoughts of switching on to my Tremendously Bastard Mode at that moment for everyone’s safety, but there were times I didn’t speak what I already had in mind in the previous case. It was either I hate to deliver my “piece” or the “piece” did not want to be delivered. Looking back into these dates, October 23 until October 27, it seemed that we had a long long activity – nonstop. But what was indeed indelible in those days were the time spent out of nothing: laughing hard till our faces got hurt, sharing of stories randomly, and planning what should happen after the break. Well, those were good indeed; at the least it suppressed the pain.

_____________________________________________________

the elavatory

Development all throughout the ages has totally defined what our current technology is capable of. From the latest Cellphone with built-in Turbo Boilers to the most famous Washing Machine that irons your clothes at the same time, it is indeed notable to see such inventions in the near future.

But Silimen University College of Chars and Sciences actually had its discreet unveiling of something groundbreaking, something innovative, and at the very least something fresh in the community. The CS Elevator has finally found its use!

“Since the elevator has been completely neglected for how many years, the College along with the Bored of Trustees approval, we decided to renovate the elevator,” Dean of the College Claros Magsulit said. “It is a first of its kind!”

Though the quandary of the elevator was finally faced in the times of the Great Depression when the Chars and Sciences faculty grieved in bloody tears, at long last the once forgotten piece of marvelous idle machinery is transformed into an upscale state-of-the-art restroom that could transport you up and down the levels of the college building at the same time relieving what is supposed to be relieved. They called it as the “Elavatory,” a fusion of an Elevator and a Lavatory, another word for Pinoy restrooms.

In line with the celebration of the World Oppressed Bladder: Changing the World Towards Urinary Perfection, the Elavatory was launched last Friday, September 22 at the CS Grounds.

Combining both style and substance, it is equipped with modern amenities found usually in six star hotels of the 22nd century, the elevator cum restroom boasts of ultraviolet cleaning mechanism aside from the flushing water. Floors are made of granite. Automatic rubber-emitter slippers are also provided that keeps you away from slipping on the scratchproof tiling. Tissue papers are still being utilized but are improved using a special kind of paper wherein it can be reused several times. “We still wanted to stick with tradition,’ Prof. Claros Magsulit pointed out.

“I am so proud of being a Silimenian. With this Elavatory, it goes to show that this institution is truly competitive in terms of technological standards. We are now famous! Bwahaha! We’re famous!” Psychology major Valium San Peter joyously said, who is now on her fourth year.

Resident Janitor Jave Jacob Baltusa is also happy for this new facility. “Murag dili na jud magamit ning mga C.R. sa mga floors aning buildinga [CS Building] tungod aning Elavatory. So meaning, mugaan-gaan gamay akong trabaho kay otomatic man diay mulimpyo ra ug iyaha ning Elavatoriha ni; from the floor, ceiling, and to the walls! Mao nai char!”

According to Microshoft Endarta, it is known that in the 16th century the puritanical spirit of the Reformation further discouraged bathing and use of lavatories in a mysterious island in Europe. Believe to be cursed especially for women who have their monthly “visitor,” these were their worst nightmare.

It was then in the 18th and 19th century that the use of bathrooms and lavatories became a form of fashion when some elite men proved that it was harmless. Because the previous trend before was that the grimier your look, the better. And this explains why most people before are darkly toned and smelled awfully bad.

In these years, we truly need to keep ourselves clean, and the unveiling of this Elavatory highlights its purpose. “Let us steer away from all superstitions that hinders proper hygiene for ourselves,” Magsulit proposed.

It is heard that the cost have summed up as much as the overall salary of the whole departments’ staff. As always, along with critical praises, comments are still endlessly flowing. “Who can ever benefit from a toilet that would unexpectedly spurts out water to our bottoms, and that the whole cubicle would go up and down to add to that?” Dr. Deal Low, a philosophy professor, commented. “It is no use after all.”

A professor from the Filipino Department, Prof. Rosaria Lops also objected to the Elavatory’s unimportance. “Parang wala namang gamit yung restroom-elevator na iyon. Sana naman merong bar dito sa KH para mas masaya! Makakaparty pa kami!”

“Samuk kaayo! Bastos! Ninggamit ko aning bago na C.R. pero ningkalit ra man ug open and sliding doors… nakuyapan ko! At least, in fairness upholstered ang toilet mao na dili kaayo sakit ang pagpakog nako,” a Speech and Theater Arts junior stressed, who decided to be called as Claudine. “Bisag naai tabon, lain pud noh. Gagamit kag banyo then naay musulod!”

Still, this Elavatory faced a lot of controversies even if supported with Silimen President Ben Malaya. “This is indeed an added landmark in the history of Silimen University aside from the Over Overpass,” the President closed his speech.

After all the purpose of these things is to make the use of what is available to its fullest extent, and the College of Chars and Sciences’ Elavatory is a testimony to that adage’s legacy.

- this previously appeared in the Weekly Sillimanian last September 27, 2006 as a lampoon article.

All places, events, and characters are treated without malice -- fictional.

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after the break?

Whoa.

Only two weeks are provided for us to breathe free from campus stuff before we would be receiving our acidic grades? It is not enough!

The first few days of the first fresh week of my not-waking-up-at-six-in-the-morning was just pure warm up for me to get ready on a number of activities I planned to deal with for the following week. Oops. Activities? Nope, not the boring kind, it's more on the enjoyable counterpart.

And now that I had just done something great this day (our campaign was so unforgettable), I just realized minutes were running so fast -- enrolment season is approaching! Bullfrogs, I should have Hermione's Time Turner!

Huhu. I can't believe it. So in order to relieve and comfort my mind from any pressures in the coming semester, I am thinking that after this break, we will all be seeing once again in the campus...

smiles on our faces and ideas for the weekends.
_______________________________________________________

introducing something strange

In this era when we see children carrying books bigger than their heads, the most evident downside of it is that we seldom see the “us” category bringing these things that are either thick or thin in covering and have tiny letters, numbers, and sometimes a few illustrations in their content (what are they called again?) unlike our younger generation.

It is easy to say that these children have caught the “reading bug” as they grew up totally exposed to things we have not. Clichéd as it may sound but that’s the hard fact. Books would just scream “Come Over Here! Buy Me!” in time passing. Let's warm-up our reading skills. I think all of the “us” category should be cultured in the wonders of literature. The book is entitled, “Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell” by Susanna Clarke.


* * *

Set in the early 19th-century Britain, English folklore and fantasy blended well in this extraordinary novel of two magicians who attempt to reinstate English magic in the age of Napoleon. In a common world imagined by Susanna Clarke, old Britain is never seen in a different kind of view even in the presence of notable obscurities. It seemed that magic itself is instinctive to the setting. Talking stones, whispering leaves, and moving grounds are not at all surreal but natural.

When gentlemen scholars only pore over England’s magical history, which is ruled by the Raven King - a mysterious man who mastered magic from the lands of faerie, the study is highly academic there’s no application at all, until Mr. Norrell, an arrogant and mistrustful bookworm surface. He showed that he is capable of creating magic and was verified when he showed the society speaking statues! Suddenly, he became the cream of the crop. From this event to the creation of English ships out of rainwater to block the incoming French colony, Norrell became the government’s prized icon.

Suddenly, a person in the name of Jonathan Strange enters the scene. Overly impulsive at such a young age, this aristocrat finds himself in the same practice of magic too under none other than Mr. Norrell himself.

Being the first student in his valuable library of forgotten and rare books, Norrell shared Jonathan his knowledge of the craft but totally not everything, afraid that someone would take over his throne of fame. Jonathan still learned voraciously.

In my favorite scene where Jonathan and Mr. Norrell debated, the younger magician finds himself unable to accept Norrell's tight views of magic he sets out of Norrell’s apprenticeship and creates a new approach on magic all by himself. Mr. Norrell on the other hand focused his attention to the government’s pleadings of assistance. He disregarded the thought of Strange’s backfiring actions towards him for he had not wholly taught him powerful magic. And this he is wrong.

Jonathan Strange with his vengeance of edging out the cleverness of Mr. Norrell tried everything that he thought would topple Mr. Norrell from his pride. Through many circumstances, both of them ended in a way that they are not ought to. Discovering morale from their own actions, Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell still wanted to resolve the intricacy of magic. So, I would not further mention any more details for I might spoil the occasional or curios reader in wanting to read the novel.

In the author’s part, Clarke is superbly pertinent in showing magic as both a believably multifaceted and tiresome labor. Disregarded pieces of conversations would later on be very crucial in the latter part. The system of politics where magic is involved is portrayed with seamless realism and unquestionably part of the same England! Written in an old-fashioned narrative way with an addition of lengthy footnotes (that could occupy one page!) to fill in the uninformed reader events on the history of magic may even seem useless at first, reveals that reading it is worth the price when reaching to the last few pages of the novel.

To those who would attempt to grab a copy of this book, just take this heed of warning: If you are the type who only reads something of the fantasy-kind that involves delirious waving of wands, dragons that breathe fire, handsome elves and beautiful faeries, band of assorted creatures treading dangerous territories, and where words of enchantments began at the very first sentence of chapter one, then you better leave this book alone, shun it in a corner, and forget it altogether. This is not for you.

This book is unique in its genre not just that the presence of magic shows up only after hundreds of pages, but in its capability of engrossing a reader its 1000-page being! One could never notice that it is actually that long. It is a masterpiece that can be enjoyed in lazy afternoons with your favorite beverage on one hand and the book on your lap while lounging comfortably in your seat.

Susanna Clarke said boredom is probably the reason she wrote this book. “I could always imagine more interesting places to be than where I was and more interesting people than me being there. Eventually this led to making up stories and writing things down,” she said in an interview in the book’s official website. She also added, “I always really liked magicians. I’m not even sure why — except that they know things other people don’t…”

Like a character in the book had said: "Magic! Do not speak to me of magic! It is just like everything else, full of setbacks and disappointments." That’s a very essential statement. It means that though some results looks either superbly beautiful or wretched, you never know how taxingly it was done.

Indeed, the mastery of Clarke’s ability to weave the appropriate words made her even a more competent writer in this debut novel. It is a book where you stop over a line and read it once more or let its effect seep deeper into you for a while, whether out of admiration of the effectiveness of its brevity, of simple awe, or of its intelligent wit. From a span of ten years in developing this one-of-a-kind novel, this turned out as an instant classic to readers worldwide. A historical fictional novel at its best – for now.

think it over!

"Tension always tails right behind calmness, if it isn't, calmness shall pursue trouble."

It is a cycle. We cannot escape how great we really are, even Houdini cannot get through with this one. It is like your shadow, always at your side, your back, and even right in front of you -- the sun creating these funny silhouettes is just the accompanying humor (well in the sense if you get what is the humor behind those magnificent trick of light!).

Seems ironic but if God ever forbids tension to stop its childish doings, your calm being will initiatively finds fun in the wilderness; from booze, sex, and to the newest book in the nearest novelty book shop. Calmness' pursuit for something bizarre should be expected. Then again, tension comes back into play, for calmness is good in hunting, the big "C" can find it (nope, not cancer!) in every place imagineable no matter where it hides.

And hey, it could be right under your carpet, accumulating the dust of Wednesday that brings an original itch to your nose. Tissues, here I come!

________________________________________

yuletide in october

You are alone in the round table. You breathe the air that is different from a neighboring province that you had cultured on for a long time. It is morning; not too early and neither it is too late. You are alone, well except for two water pitchers on it, one made of glass and one Tupperware; two delicate chinaware plates covered with large saucers fronting you; a spoon and a fork; and a large bowl of hot tsokolate – and you questioned why it is filled in a bowl. You take off the two saucers that are intended to cover the larger plates, seeing what is hidden beyond its fragile innocence.

A weak steam goes out of the tiny open you make, it reaches your olfactory senses that awakens Ben – your dear old friend for the longest time – and groans in annoyance urging you to start filling your mouth with food that you are yearning for the past months. You hastily put the two saucers aside and immediately marvel at the sight that fronts you: slices of meatloaf coincidentally arranged to form a smiley face, and the other plate a large flat circle of scrambled egg. Whoa! That is the best breakfast you have. Not because it is the first time you are going to divulge into such feast but the presence of your mother around and your nephews playing at the living room add the most tasteful flavor that enriches your palate. Without telling anyone for the longest time about your peculiar panache, you take three full scoops of tsokolate from the bowl and pour it into your two-cup rice. Now, your secret is revealed.


Your mother incessantly looks for her compiled compact discs and cassette tapes of Christmas music around your house. She insists that she place it in shelf at a corner in your abode that is full of mixed-up furniture: two coffee tables with accompanying a pair of hard-wood chairs, two sofas, three refurbished cabinets, another two antique lost dining chairs that still came from your grandparent’s ancestral house, five heavy wooden tables, a piano, and a wide array of multicolored objects that outstand in the domination of brown and dark green hues. Finally your mother finds it and hurries toward your VCD component with speakers of different sizes scatter on the table and even below the table. At first she is questions speaking to the air on which music should she play while you continuously gobble down on your meal, until she decides to tune in to Jose Mari Chan. Inserting the audio tape that is now five-years-old, it immediately play on the track A Perfect Christmas.


My idea of a perfect Christmas // is to spend it with you…


You suddenly stop from your gluttony; the line of the song tingles down from your throat going down your stomach and gives a strange quiver in your deeper insides, prompting your mind to think back all over again when you have not ventured yet the alluring innocence of the city of the gentle people:


You were all seven then; three ladies and four boys. You never thought of tagging them as men because all the time, even though you were not yet half-skilled in the English vocabulary, you always thought that they are the same age as you are. Your reasons? You said that they usually committed the same mistake over and over again – and if not the same mistake done over and over again, they committed something worse than the previous case. So, they stay as boys until now. You interrogated yourself if you will consider yourself a man by now, and yup, basing on your experience meter, you are an inch above from them but not enough to be called as a man; you are still somewhere in the middle, just like a slice of salami or cheese sandwiched between two piece of wheat bread, getting ready to be bitten or forget it that it actually exists there. Again, you were seven then.


There was your eldest brother, who at first was so close to you that now you barley even talk to with each other – what’s more, you even think that he is not present in your house who unquestionably is sitting right behind you.


And also your sister that you have continually outrun the height always assisted you in making school projects when you were in elementary. Up to know she cared for your studies – well, all your sisters do.


Then there was another sister of yours who encouraged you to read and read, taught you to study harder and made you avoid any scary shows that you tried to hardheadedly endure in one sitting. As of this moment, she’s deciding if she would pursue her dentistry dream to tend your medical-wonder-set-of-teeth.


Then another brother of yours that set off steam so early whenever his serenity is punctuated with a child’s laughter especially in social gatherings which in return he kept any electrical music component playing, reaching the levels to the highest decibels, and you can’t even forget the day when he banged your head with a plastic dipper out of sheer irritation. Good thing is your head is thicker than any plastic dipper in the world for it was proven by the midmorning sunlight and your mum’s garden plants how the poor dipper broke into pieces upon encountering your head. Now, you two barely speak with each other.


In a party or dinner for two // anywhere would do…


Then there was your sister too; so cheerful yet also very emotional. She is creative in her own little ways, enjoys all kind of handcrafting. Loves chocolate like everyone else of the family; she has this unique characteristic of maintaining the same figure. She is always told about diabetes but this doesn’t stop her from craving more. Now, she surprised you when she gave a pair of slippers that is much costly than your monthly salary at the university publication.


And finally your brother that really gets along your other brother that banged your head with a dipper. He was so meticulous on what and how you wear your clothes. Your fashion statement in those days doesn’t suit his creative capacity. These days, you always failed him in your planned exhibit and also he doesn’t comment that much on what you look like when you go out on a weekend at the nearest mall.


Add the father, the mother, the in-laws, the guests, the helpers and the incoming boarders which compose of stray cats, dogs, rats, snakes, turtles and the birds, your numbers were gradually increasing. But fast forward, the father goes out for work, your sister goes to a farther place along with your other sister, your other other sister ventures to have a home away from you, your brother which you treated as like any dormer who’s occurrence is not so important to you kept on going home late, and your other other brothers, from being too stuck with each other, are also going home late like there is no mother worrying what might happen to them.


Always light up our lives. // Simple pleasures are made simple, too…


Fast, fast, fast forward, there you are silently sitting in front of a plate completely smudged by the dregs of your tsokolate creating a dark-brown pattern that either amuse or depress you. You gather up all the things that need to be washed. You hum along the music, that through your community’s silence, the air brings the notes to your ears.


You neither want to mull over those fragments in your life nor to feel the accompanying penetrative emotions the tune carries along but the stills of images that wander in your mind are so clear it brings your eyes watery. You hide it by whistling with the merry tune at the same time washing a dish that has a broken part. You let your fingers run over its jagged side and wonder where the other part been left or simply thrown.


Looking through some old photographs // faces and friends we’ll always remember…


Wiping your forehead that is slightly sweaty with your security face towel, you go to the sala and sit in your favorite sofa – the kind of sofa that if you would go plunging onto its soft and plush cushions, you would only receive a tiny hill of pain at the back of your head after hitting its low wooden headrests.


You are on the action of sending a message using your phone when you abruptly realize you forget where you place it. Asking anyone that exists in the second floor of the house, you feel vindicated when the answer you get is: “Naa ra na diha, pangitaa ug tarong.”


After long minutes of searching for your beloved unique phone, you find it behind a portrait of your brother that has a tiny tear on its nose. Hastily pressing some keys that leads you to the service wherein you can start writing your message, you send the message just in time for a vibration on your phone and an annoying words that literally fills up your cellphone screen:


Check Operator Services


When you check your inbox knowing you receive a message because of the vibration’s indication, you are more astounded when another set of words fills the screen one more time: Natigil na ang iyong UNLIMITXT service…


I can’t think of a better Christmas // Than my wish coming true…


And before you will throw away your phone that you think is completely lifeless, it buzzed again that prompts you to read a message. It is a message from your “companion.” You have never yet formulated another derogatory word for “friend” because you believe there is no such thing. Eventually, you realized you are missing someone or anyone who are not in your midst.


It is indeed funny to discover that once you are in another nostalgic place, both your inner and outer being misses people and things not accessible from where you are standing. You cannot recover from the string of occurrences that happen in that short period of time so you go out of the house and played with the stray cats – and still whistling along Jose Mari Chan. And Ben is happy.


And my wish is that you’d let me spend //
My whole life with you.

My idea of a perfect Christmas //
Is spending it with
you.

________________________________________________________

lavender

A dilemma in the morning:

Soaking her hands

in a basin of foamy water

feeling the clothes of men

that were left in time

to soften the burden.

Scrubbing away

the dirt of yesterday,

slowly revealing

what should be presented

for tomorrow that's worth some lending.

Adding an essence of lavender

that calms her senses

expecting for the fabric's less wrinkles,

seeing them instead on her fingers.

Rinsing the qualms.

Squeezing with her closed palms,

now she readies to hang.

Lavender o, lavender ah --

the sweet scent that flows as it dries to return

as a burden.

- written on the 25th of January, 2006. This is an honor for all "Lavenders"

who untiringly cleanse that are not their's
________________________________________________________________

tin can tautologies

For Joey, mornings are his business.
He enjoys every nickel clinks in his tin can,

For it is a bank. His sweat an income
beneath the sun that scorches his skin into tan.

For his friends are the Ayalas, Gokongweis, and the Lopezes.
He waits for solicitations, they watch him on the news.

And for the evenings he settles his engagements,
in treasure hunts and street sprints.

For up to now, up to the brim of his tin can,
Joey constantly fills it with dreams -

- fill it with presedential tautologies.

- a poem for the World Youth Day: Tackling Poverty Together

____________________________________________________

bullfrogish unions

Bullfrogs!

Does that ring a bell? It's called as such because the male's deep resonant croak sounded like a bull's bellow. Bullfrogs are a rare kind of amphibians known for its eating habits in the world of biology. They're predators found mostly in the silent lakes of canada to Mexico feeding on small snakes (yup, small), worms, insects, crustaceans (humm, interesting!), little birds, and most shockingly, their own kind! This trait being its most significant makes it unique and dangerous!

They can only see and eat their prey whan it's moving. If not, bullfrogs wouldmn't give a damn! For as long as it is not moving, it's not part of their menu. Their hunting style is called the "Sit & Wait" technique. They wait patiently until an unfortunate victim passes, meeting its untimely death. with a single gulp, it is gone.

They're so amazingly diligent and trciky. They are on the third level of the food pyramid after all! They have earned an instant reputation distinct from other frog species as being mean and greedy as unmindful of eating their own kind for self-gratification.

These bullfrogs' exceptional trait has actually long been showing up in our nation nowadays. Some promient Homo sapiens who are graduates of reputable universities like Silliman, exhibit such trait, unmindful of thier acts and deliberatley showing up only i times of indulgence, being fraud in front of the unknowing masses. They are corrupt, greedy, and selfish -- bullfrogish, really -- sitting on high positions in the government.

Organizations, unions, party-lists, societies and other related groups is the result to all these -- attention seeking movements yet usually they're unheard.

According to the Philippine Constitution's Bill of Rights, specifically Section 8, people have the freedom to form or to be a member of any group, in which the person unanimously agreed upon its purpose and to successfully achieve it. But is this enough to solve the bullfrogish acts we are seeing and even experiencing?

Yes? But the question is, is this particular right really in our hands?

We talk about democracy in this country but look and see what's happening now: Rallyists are adamantly maltreated, and innocent people are abducted by armed forces. thier so-called rights were completely discarded.

Given the economic strait we are in, the formation of such unions is inevitable, yet they're experiencing difficulties all the same. thier lives are at stake in every move they make. That's why others tend to be with the bullfrogs!

It's funny to realize that a better way of tackling more impending bullfrogs in this country is being one! One has no choice but to take the lead of trekking onto a different path, unless one would prefer to be on the passive side. Unbeknownst to them, they are becoming bullfrogs.

Leftists, activists, or whatever they are tagged; the anger in these people may be considered a waste of energy. but using this energy through anger could lead to a change for improvement, an improvement for everyone's benefit.

Well i think it runs that way. And it's sad to note that through the years -- though little by little, we have felt some improvements in this nation -- the oppressed are getting more demoralized, and the untroubled are still getting more pleasures their wicked relations have to offer.

If you doubt my statements, i suggest you lock yourself inside a closet, and you might discover that there's something croaking ceep inside you. There will be no harm done. just ask yourself: Are you a discreet bullfrog-in-the-making who, with sheer determination, lavishes on the downfall of your fellow beings? Maybe you really are without noticing it!

And if you do... Please, don't swallow me up! Help anybody... bullfrogish symptoms at hand!

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