EpoyzBlog

it’s like the heavens knew what day it was.

all day long there was no heavy downpour, no lashing outburst of any kind from mother nature. just steady, unceasing flow of soft, gentle drops of rain accompanied the persistent gloom that managed to creep into every inch of every room. at least that’s how it seemed for me.

one of my very first conscious memories as a child was when there was a good couple of days that strangers took turns in holding me, passing me around and watching over me as i constantly tried to reach my mom. it was a very troubling sight for a child to see: your mother, who at that point was your rock, the only person in the world who can still your heart and wipe your every tear, weeping inconsolably in front of all these strangers.

i understood later that she wept for her slain younger brother, his life snuffed out by a jealous rival’s blade while visiting his girlfriend’s house. he was barely in his twenties then.

the second time that i saw my mother weep like that was when i was seven years old, but this time it was very hard for me to understand why. she and almost everybody else was glued to their TV sets, mourning this man who was slain as he was coming off a plane.

i understood later that that man was ninoy aquino, and his death symbolized a country’s hope being snuffed out. the next few weeks would become a sort of coming of age for me, as i learned who ninoy was. not unlike a michael jordan highlight reel, i was exposed to countless tributes, tales of the man’s greatness and stories that told of what he meant to the country then. i watched wide-eyed video clips of this bespectacled man as he thundered in delivering line after line against marcos ( i didn’t know what martial law meant then..), lighting up the room with his good-natured ribbing of the present government, dazzling me with unparalleled wit and candor and intelligence. settling with my parents as the whole country was reminded of what we lost, i followed the coverage of his funeral which drew leagues of people.

for the next two years the philippine media would not let us forget. i grew up learning to understand how truly great ninoy was, how he was imprisoned and taken away from his family and how he endured everything, the torture, the hunger strikes, the solitary confinement, his exile to another country, his sacrifices for his conviction that the filipino is worth dying for. i had to know of ninoy aquino before i understood what jose rizal being shot at bagumbayan was all about. after all that everything sort of just fell into place for me.

as a young child i followed everything that led to february 25,1986. you could say i was brought up right, that ninoy aquino helped raise me as a child because my mom was always talking about him and the sacrifices he made. she was in EDSA when People Power prevailed. happy times.

i was in EDSA in 2001. i wanted to have what my mom had, i wanted a piece of history for myself, something that i can pass to my children someday. well, we all know how "People Power 2" turned out for our country. congratulations sa ating lahat.

oh-kay. so what do we have now, 23 years after the death of, to me, pound-for-pound the greatest of filipino heroes? well, pretty much the same shit as when he was still alive. although i believe the country is very much worse than when he was fighting for it, as this and countless other articles i’ve been reading the past few weeks would prove. this sort of shit is unthinkable and i still can’t believe we’re letting this happen.

we’re not short of stories that would stir us to stand up to this. what i can’t understand is why we’re still splayed on the ground helpless.

"somebody please do something.. anything..".

i have heard, read and seen that line countless times being used to convey a most desperate cry for help. i’ve read it in heroic fantasy novels, seen it in comic books and superhero movies. for me it is a final cry before the descent of silence, the acceptance that all hope is lost.

i always followed patricia evangelista’s column ever since i learned that she was the kid who delivered that great speech about being filipino, the one that won her and the country much pride and honor a few years back. i find her writing very much refreshing, as if i was reading of seeing things through the eyes of a 20-year old, when the world was full of promise and the universe was there to conquer and discover. she was my break from reading conrado de quiros, randy david and manuel l. quezon III.

alas.

her writing turned from this, this and this…aaand this..

..to this, this and this in a span of three weeks.

i still love her writing, but it saddens me to see her being forced to grow up too soon. me, i enjoyed being thrust into the real world until i was 27. i grew a social conscience when i turned 28, and like i said before, it was a very painful and very disturbing experience. she’s only 20, 21 years old and she’s forced to experience and recount this shit. but people like her give me hope.

it’s people like us who were there and saw what we won back in 1986 after decades of the same shit that’s going on today, electing to "move on" with our lives, letting all these atrocities become acceptable, who make me lose hope in the filipino.

somebody please do something..anything.

because now we’ve sunk to an all-time low. at least people tried to take to the streets last february 25. now all we can do is let the heavens cry for us. all i did today was wear my yellow shirt to work and mope and look for any sign of movement from the news.

nothing.

today we have truly become unworthy of ninoy aquino’s sacrifice. today the antitheses of what ninoy aquino stood for officially outnumbered the two million who flocked to his funeral. indeed, today we denied him of his legacy.

today, 23 years after his death, i finally wept for ninoy aquino.

diced talong.

that’s right, diced talong.

boys, try saying that aloud without cringing, or without making an involuntary twitch, or having "ouch" flash in your brain in big red letters as you’re saying it. or just try saying it flat out without wincing or freezing. come on.

di ba?

the reason for this whole discourse is that i’ve been doing this single guy meal for so long (penne rigate, chunky italian sauce from the can, parmesan cheese and fried diced talong) but just recently caught myself saying  this integral ingredient out loud. then my knees suddenly buckled. i tried saying it out loud again, and i kind of felt a tinge of discomfort and choked up a bit. the third time my wily willy wailed out in protest.

some of my women friends asked us guys if getting kicked in the family jewels really hurt and i told them this: try mock-kicking or mock-punching someone in the balls and most likely he will keel over even though you didn’t connect. or just threaten a dude that you’re gonna punch his special place and you’ll see that almost-imperceptible-to-the-untrained-eye cringe. then he will instinctively cup his hands to protect the "groinal" area…

oh-kay. just getting that out in the open. men are sissies. and i’m an ass.

"..Spin me some sad story
   Sell me some excuse
   To help me understand the things you do
   ’Cause the way you treat your lovers
   Well I just can’t relate
   Well where’d you learn to shoot your gun so straight?

   Oh baby won’t you cry?
   Show me there are some tears behind your eyes
   Oh baby won’t you cry?
   Show me there’s a hurt behind your eyes.."

             -"Shoot Your Gun", 22-20s from 22-20s

kung di pa ba naman talaga halatang-halata ito, e, ewan ko na lang. Live reporting of the committee on justice’s hearings on the impeachment complaints against President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo are now forbidden. these fuckers, a really shameless lot, no?

o ayan na, harap-harapan nang sinasabi na ang tatanga natin. NR pa rin?

i caught clips of this freak show last night in the news, and saw that a fight almost broke out. aba e kung ako ang nandun magpapa-umpisa talaga ako ng rambol, and i’m taking a whole lot of these assholes down with me.

and the arguments, oh the arguments…elibs talaga ako sa mga nagtitiyagang lumaban para sa ‘tin. the affront to one’s intellectual capacities in these proceedings is just..it’s just too.. man, i can’t even put it in words.

shameless, shameless, shameless, shameless.

"They will find neither justice nor a future here..", Conrado de Quiros told his readers in this installment of his column. he’s recommending that we either take to the hills or go abroad. damn, if we can’t correct all this i will seriously consider packing my shit and just go away. but i’m willing to stay until the bitter end. bahala na.

aside from that, i’m still waiting for mr. de Quiros to finally reach the end of his wits. even i can’t believe we’re just letting things like these go on unchecked. brod, tingin ko bigla na lang mag-aamok itong si sir conrad, e. feel ko lang, ha? dapat may live coverage nun, if ever, no? compelling reality TV, that would surely be.. if he agrees to take a flame thrower ( o kahit gulok lang..) to malakanyang or kahit sa congress, i’m sure mark burnett will sign him up..

and here he gives tribute to my idol, the real bicolano superman. yung mababait talaga maaga kinukuha ni Lord. sayang lang, now somebody else needs to step up.

i felt really bad that i wasn’t able to catch a glimpse of the fab 5 when they visited the country. yes, inaamin ko: i’m really fascinated with carson kressley. pareho kasi sila kumilos at magsalita ng barkada kong si joel, and i really miss him. i miss you, baklah!! huhuhu…

eherm, eherm..

and it would have been really great if they shot an episode here, siyempre featuring a hapless pinoy bachelor who has no idea of what he’s doing. na-imagine ko pa tuloy kung kunwari ako yun, i’m sure they’ll have a field day trying to fix me: i dress like a twelve-year-old boy (always in t-shirt, shorts and basketbal shoes, minsan may cap, minsan wala…), my room looks like a nike park stock room, i have a lot of monobloc chairs, my diet consists of bacon, eggs, pasta, chips and bread, and i’m voluntarily bald. culture? i took my mom to watch miss saigon once (third row, kaso rightmost seat.. was really bummed to be placed there, but when lea salonga started changing her clothes thirty feet from me, biglang naging sulit na yung ticket…) and that was it. i only dance when i’m trying to make people laugh, and i only go out for basketball. so tingin nyo, pwede ba ako i-queer eye?

di siguro. saka baka sumobra pag e enjoy ko e bigla pang mapa-join ako sa kanila..

i read somewhere that j.k. rowling may be planning to kill harry potter in the seventh book. hay naku, sana nga, dapat nga nung book 5 tsinugi na ‘yun, noh? nakakainis. arte, sobra. swerte lang siya nasa title lagi pangalan niya..

basta wag niya lang gagalawin si ron, ok na ‘ko. and i hope he scores on the last book, para sumaya naman si hermione.. nyehehehehe.. sa quidditch, ha? di ba goalie siya dun? tsktsk…dudumi ng utak nyo, grabe..

kalahatian na ng august. tapos septemBER na. sabi nga ni Bono: "and the days, days, days, run way like horses over the hills…". makapagipon na at dalawampu na yata ang inaanak ko..

"There’s a feeling I get
When I look to the west,
And my spirit is crying for leaving.."

            -"Stairway To Heaven", Led Zeppelin from Led Zeppelin