I am no leftist, sadist, nor Marcos loyalist, but stories, on print or in film, on various but at the same time parallel experiences of people during the Martial Law years have always interested me. I do not have any first-hand experience of Marcos’ dictatorship or even faint memories of which, as I was barely three when his rule ended. The closest link I have to a person in our bloodline that came closest to experiencing the Storm is just my uncle, and no one in our nuclear family. That may be the reason behind my interest to that particular fragment of Philippines history. If books and films were able to speak, I would ask them to disclose what really happened behind the subplots and scenes just to quench my curiosity. I know for sure that storytellers’ tales already underwent censure, personal ones or otherwise.
I’ll be most glad to lend an ear, or why not both of them. Tell me your story.
At a tender age of 19, Butch Dalisay, Jr was already stringing words like a pro, which is just exactly how he turned out. Check out his article, “A Prison Diary” (Penman, 21 Oct 2003) last Monday, to get a sample of his work, and his life, as he recounted in a diary his seven-month incarceration during the Martial rule.
A commentary by Bernardo V. Lopez in yesterday’s issue of the Inquirer (Arsenic Mt. Apo, 10/22/03) exposed the threats of PNOC’s (Philippine National Oil Corporation) geothermal power plant to Mt. Apo and the lives of its inhabitants. High concentration of arsenic, a “bioaccumulative” and highly toxic substance, was found in the sample of waste water of the plant site, a river and soil samples from different barangays nearby.
Arsenic particularly attacks the nervous system of a person. A chronic symptom of its ingestion after it has accumulated in the body includes convulsions.
Development is not equal to killing people and destroying the environment. Spare Mt. Apo and the lives of its locals.
I heard in the primetime news that Fernando Poe Jr., a.k.a. FPJ, Da King, Panday of the local movies confirmed what most of us are fearing for, drum roll please? or maybe the Psycho sound effect is more apt? He’s running for president. I’m not surprised at all since this has been the talk of the town even in the past months.
With the persistent courting and nudging of the opposition to make him as their official flag-bearer, FPJ finally said yes. (No) thanks to Tito Sotto who did a good job in convincing him to run for the highest post in the land.
I don?t intend to consume too much of cyberspace for you, Mr. FPJ, as I share the general sentiments of those people who already had enough of actor-politicians.
You and I know you?re not supposed to be there. Better yet, listen to your lovely wife’s advice. Just stick to your craft where you truly belong.
Have mercy on us.
I thought I’ll have an easy time manipulating my blog: changing the title, description etc. I’ve been doing so for the last couple of hours. Blame it on the slooow internet connection and PC, coupled with a mouse that has mind of its own. But i’m getting the hang of it.
Hopefully, I’ll to escape the throes of this contraption in a month’s time. As they say, patience is a virtue.
Three hours. That’s approximately how long it took me to register as a voter for the upcoming elections next year. I can’t really say if it was any faster compared to the previous years, since this is my first time to register to practice my right to suffrage (“suffer-age” afterwards? it’s really up to us to decide).
I arrived at the city hall early, or so I thought, to finish the entire process in a jiffy and avoid the expected crowd that will build-up as the day progresses. At the back of the city hall where the Comelec office is situated, I was greeted by two tents already swarmed with Las Piñeros, to think the office is not yet open (it was just 7:45 a.m.). Good thing I was able to save about an hour’s time from queuing to get the application form as I already went there with the document already filled-out (thanks Ma!).
I am voter-wannabe number 169 for that day, and a man on the microphone just called out numbers 60 to 70. With still 100 people ahead of me, with no one talk to and no book to wile my time away, I whipped out my mobile phone and logged on to Yahoo Messenger through GPRS to see if someone can “accompany” for the next hour or so. Fortunately, a friend from Canada was online, and we chatted for almost an hour.
Another friend texted and told me to check out the day’s Youngblood article. I had an inkling she got published to the very popular column. So I rushed to the nearest newspaper stand that I could find (which was not near at all) to grab a copy of the Inquirer, and ease out the boredom and impatience that has started to crawl in.
My batch (numbers were called by 20s) was called a few minutes after browsing through the last pages of the paper. I waited for almost another 20 minutes before I proceeded inside the air-conditioned Comelec office. Four computer stations were available inside, and getting my “livescan” (digital picture-taking and fingerprinting) was a breeze. Hi-tech, indeed, yet the process can still be made more efficient by creating a different set of lines altogether for those who just need to validate their registration.
As I went out of the building, I mentally bade goodbye to those who are still waiting in line and wished them luck. Or maybe I should have included myself and thought, “Wish us luck.” The registration is just the preview of the bigger picture and where the real action will be found– the May elections.
This is my first ever entry to my blog, not to mention my first time at maintaining one. At last, it has become a reality after months of waiting painstakingly for semestral break to arrive. I know it’s easy to make a blog, yet I opted to make one just now to give time for my other pastime which is my studies (don’t study hard, study smart!).
Don’t expect anything thought-provoking and earth-shaking from my rambles, because they’re just that, rambles.
You’re about to be served a generous piece of my mind.
Please help yourself.