Lost causes are funny. They're perhaps the biggest jokes on humanity. All the world is in darkness, everything's going to shit and guess what, here we are, getting through just fine. Surviving, struggling, minding our own business and just looking on to get through the next day.
All of a sudden there's a little candle that gets lit. It's a friggin' shining beacon of high and holy hopes. This messianic source of light is the answer to the many lamentations that we secretly offer up every night, but dare not say out loud because we don't want to set ourselves up for disappointment. Finally, salvation is right in front of us in the form of this single burning candle that makes the gloom and doom a little bit bearable.
Then, the Universe, with it's amazing sense of dark humor, blows the goddamn thing out. Ouch.
A bevy of false hopes and shattered dreams later, you can't help but laugh. Here we were, actually challenging reality and the good ol' Universe, believing that maybe it all makes sense, that we can actually make the difference. But we're so jaded we just laugh it off, but really we're crying inside because as much as we don't want to admit it, it hurt.
But you know what's the real joke? It's not the fact that you actually thought it would work. No, not at all. The real kicker here is that you knew it was coming all along and you were in on it. And yet here we are, all butthurt and angry about it. Now that's a laugh.
Guess what, Life's a joke, and you're the punchline.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
The Pursuit of Happiness
No, I haven't seen Will Smith's movie of the same title. But I have heard good things, and brief synopsis from a friend. Of course further reading has pointed out that, while a very inspirational movie, it was more of fiction than anything else. Minus the rose-tinted glasses, the story is more of how a douche bag of a human being was at the right place at the right time. Why no, no one pissed on my cornflakes this morning, why do you ask?
C. P. Snow, some famous guy who just so happens to be a physicist and apparently a novelist once said that this pursuit of happiness is nothing but an exercise in futility, to paraphrase Mr. Snow. Of course, the little optimist who are all gaga over this bull crap known as the Secret would say something positive, like say, "it's because we don't find happiness, happiness finds us." Or say something nasty like call the good Mr. Snow a bitter, bitter old man. Well he's dead, and I'm pretty sure even if he was alive he couldn't care less if he was a bitter man, especially considering his accolades.
But perhaps that was the brilliance of the actual quote "The pursuit of happiness is a most ridiculous phrase; if you pursue happiness you'll never find it." It is open to the interpretation of the reader and allows for a multitude of wordplay, allowing one to come off wiser to his or her peers should he or she share it. But was that the true intent? A template for what would be numerous quotations that will find it's way to coffee cups and framed posters if not short and sweet little letters? I'd rather think not. But sure, whatever floats your boat and impresses the chicks right?
Truth be told, I am in total agreement of the quote in its current unmodified state. Too often has humanity given chase to this wild goose that is happiness. But more often than not, the fruit of their labors have come to naught, or if otherwise successful, they realize it wasn't all that it was made to be.
But that does mean we simply wait till happiness falls on our lap like mana from the heaven? No, on the contrary, my answer is rather on the semantic end. We shouldn't strive to look for something vague and inexplicable like the notion happiness. I mean do we even know what it looks like or what exactly that entails? But rather, we should, if the time permits, seek out the things that we know will make us happy. If you seek out the idea of happiness then all you have is an ideal situation in which reality will always fall short. But if you pursue something that is indirectly tied to the state of happiness i.e. something that you know will make you happy, be it love, food, money or power; then perhaps you will reach that state. .
C. P. Snow, some famous guy who just so happens to be a physicist and apparently a novelist once said that this pursuit of happiness is nothing but an exercise in futility, to paraphrase Mr. Snow. Of course, the little optimist who are all gaga over this bull crap known as the Secret would say something positive, like say, "it's because we don't find happiness, happiness finds us." Or say something nasty like call the good Mr. Snow a bitter, bitter old man. Well he's dead, and I'm pretty sure even if he was alive he couldn't care less if he was a bitter man, especially considering his accolades.
But perhaps that was the brilliance of the actual quote "The pursuit of happiness is a most ridiculous phrase; if you pursue happiness you'll never find it." It is open to the interpretation of the reader and allows for a multitude of wordplay, allowing one to come off wiser to his or her peers should he or she share it. But was that the true intent? A template for what would be numerous quotations that will find it's way to coffee cups and framed posters if not short and sweet little letters? I'd rather think not. But sure, whatever floats your boat and impresses the chicks right?
Truth be told, I am in total agreement of the quote in its current unmodified state. Too often has humanity given chase to this wild goose that is happiness. But more often than not, the fruit of their labors have come to naught, or if otherwise successful, they realize it wasn't all that it was made to be.
But that does mean we simply wait till happiness falls on our lap like mana from the heaven? No, on the contrary, my answer is rather on the semantic end. We shouldn't strive to look for something vague and inexplicable like the notion happiness. I mean do we even know what it looks like or what exactly that entails? But rather, we should, if the time permits, seek out the things that we know will make us happy. If you seek out the idea of happiness then all you have is an ideal situation in which reality will always fall short. But if you pursue something that is indirectly tied to the state of happiness i.e. something that you know will make you happy, be it love, food, money or power; then perhaps you will reach that state. .
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Moments part 2
What makes a moment great?
Just how do we dissect that one special instant? When it would seem that the world just fades away. When time stops and it's just you, that place, that person/those people are all that matters. The heart skips a beat, the scenario engraved in the mind, something that we will most assuredly cherish forever. When the past is truly behind us, and tomorrow can damn well wait. Because it's your time and on one else's. And you pray to the gods that it lasts just a little bit longer, just a little bit longer...
In that respect, just how much does it take to have it all come crashing down?
When does a wrong turn or a single mistake ruin days, weeks, months if not years of preparation and build-up? Could it be a small nick or a slight crack, creeping up slowly and surely. Shattering the dreams that you've paid so dearly for? Or perhaps it's swift and decisive, like a house of cards collapsing to a strong breeze or and excess in vibration. Is it a combination of various sins and faults, unchecked insensitivity and miscalculations born of stubborn arrogance or inculpable ignorance? Maybe it was doomed from the start, blinded by false hopes and delusive expectations?
For whatever the reasons, the factors or the correlations we see, for whatever questions and inquiries we ask, one thing is certain. These moments will come whether we like them or not. They will come as we stumble along or deliberately set a course for them. The people involved in these times are just as important, as they now share something with you. Whether that bond or the association is through love, hate, friendship, or whatever, they will cling to you, and you to them. After all is said and done, all that is left is memories.... memories that eventually fade. Just how do we dissect that one special instant? When it would seem that the world just fades away. When time stops and it's just you, that place, that person/those people are all that matters. The heart skips a beat, the scenario engraved in the mind, something that we will most assuredly cherish forever. When the past is truly behind us, and tomorrow can damn well wait. Because it's your time and on one else's. And you pray to the gods that it lasts just a little bit longer, just a little bit longer...
In that respect, just how much does it take to have it all come crashing down?
When does a wrong turn or a single mistake ruin days, weeks, months if not years of preparation and build-up? Could it be a small nick or a slight crack, creeping up slowly and surely. Shattering the dreams that you've paid so dearly for? Or perhaps it's swift and decisive, like a house of cards collapsing to a strong breeze or and excess in vibration. Is it a combination of various sins and faults, unchecked insensitivity and miscalculations born of stubborn arrogance or inculpable ignorance? Maybe it was doomed from the start, blinded by false hopes and delusive expectations?
But we can now choose to fight and retain those bonds those memories. Because in the end, when all is said and done, you need these experiences. Not as a crutch to bitterness. Or an excuse to reminisce of the good old days, but rather simply, to reminds us who we are.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Ob-la-Di, Ob-la-Da
Anyone with half a brain or at the very least, minuscule if not microscopic appreciation of true and great music made by bands like the Beatles should know that whenever someone says "Obla-Di, Obla-Da" the next thing you should say is "life goes on bra" okay, maybe not the "bra" part (stop snickering you sick perverts, it's JAMAICAN SLANG!). But if you fail to at the very least, mention that mentally, then you need to get up, go out, find a Beatles CD or go to your friggin' iTunes store and get this song, IMMEDIATELY. After that, you listen to it, listen with GREAT VIGOR mind you, and memorize that part. As for those young whippersnappers who think that Coldplay or The Script are the "shiznit" and think this isn't worth your time, you can go right ahead and to get off my fucking lawn.
Still there? Good. Congratulations, your taste in music isn't as bad. You somehow recognize, as the late great Beatle John Lennon calls it, "Paul (McCartney)'s Granny shit" as a classic. This upbeat song about happy little Desmond and Molly Jones and their happily ever after may be considered inspirational, probably why Lennon proceeded to call it "granny shit". As life goes on, no pun intended, the expression Ob-la-Di, Obla-Da became a defeatist statement. To paraphrase The Urban Dictionary, "What you say or say to somebody in the event of misfortune as to let is slide so to speak".
Frankly, we should all learn to say this phrase more. Life is nothing but a blind stumble through a dark corridor and the light at the end of the tunnel is death. Along the way we go through many doors that just still end up going back to that dark corridor. But each door represents the situations, the milestones of our lives. Whether good or bad, we can never go back through the same door again. So why get so bummed out about it? Get up, function, suck it up and move on. As cliche as it sounds, life waits for no one, and it will go on with or without you.
That doesn't necessarily mean you shouldn't look back. Oh do so in your own good time if it helps remind you of the ass kicking the Universe decided to give you as a lesson, go right ahead. But never, ever, give that harlot the satisfaction of seeing you bleed to death all over it. If you do, I promise you you'll be missing a lot. So, there, Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da, as the Yoruba like to say, life goes on bra.
That doesn't necessarily mean you shouldn't look back. Oh do so in your own good time if it helps remind you of the ass kicking the Universe decided to give you as a lesson, go right ahead. But never, ever, give that harlot the satisfaction of seeing you bleed to death all over it. If you do, I promise you you'll be missing a lot. So, there, Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da, as the Yoruba like to say, life goes on bra.
Friday, April 17, 2009
On Possibilities, Risks and Apologies
Life is full of possibilities.
But possibilities aren't always positive. See, we miss that little detail, the fine print so to speak. Blinded by that ignorance, we blame fortune, ourselves or whoever it is the reminds of that small and often overlooked disclaimer. But hey, we should know better right?
Who dares, wins, that's what the Aussies say. Face it, we won't go anywhere if we don't gamble. The idea of winning big and getting lucky is so appealing that we forget the definition of risking and gambling. Odds aren't always in our favor and more often or not, stacked against us.
What comes after is a negativity that we may carry on longer than we should. Someone once told me that real pain lasts only 12 minutes, the rest self-inflicted. Bullshit? No. Truth. What hurts the most is we knew better, we saw it coming and we knew that probabilities were against us. Yet here we are, broken down, downtrodden and in misery. Tough. That's life, that's how it is, no choice but to accept and suck it up champ.
But what if we succeed? Everything is forgotten and forgiven right? That's just wrong. We fail to realize that we still lost something in the process. Alienated people perhaps, maybe even lost someone's trust. Stepping on people and mowing down obstacles in our way, we lost sight of those who supported us, got our backs and called us friend. Maybe they're right, and they're better off, after all, what kind of idiot does that?
It is even doubly possible that we burn all these bridges and in turn still fail at the objective. Who then shall be there when we fall? There are no excuses, fix what needs to be fixed or accept that we screwed up big time. Then stop, say "Thank You", because even at the tail end, these people were there for you and looked out for you. Get your head out of your ass and at least acknowledge that.
Remember what is possible, what is worth risking and apologize sincerely for our trespasses. After that, just hope for the best, but expect the worst.
But possibilities aren't always positive. See, we miss that little detail, the fine print so to speak. Blinded by that ignorance, we blame fortune, ourselves or whoever it is the reminds of that small and often overlooked disclaimer. But hey, we should know better right?
Who dares, wins, that's what the Aussies say. Face it, we won't go anywhere if we don't gamble. The idea of winning big and getting lucky is so appealing that we forget the definition of risking and gambling. Odds aren't always in our favor and more often or not, stacked against us.
What comes after is a negativity that we may carry on longer than we should. Someone once told me that real pain lasts only 12 minutes, the rest self-inflicted. Bullshit? No. Truth. What hurts the most is we knew better, we saw it coming and we knew that probabilities were against us. Yet here we are, broken down, downtrodden and in misery. Tough. That's life, that's how it is, no choice but to accept and suck it up champ.
But what if we succeed? Everything is forgotten and forgiven right? That's just wrong. We fail to realize that we still lost something in the process. Alienated people perhaps, maybe even lost someone's trust. Stepping on people and mowing down obstacles in our way, we lost sight of those who supported us, got our backs and called us friend. Maybe they're right, and they're better off, after all, what kind of idiot does that?
It is even doubly possible that we burn all these bridges and in turn still fail at the objective. Who then shall be there when we fall? There are no excuses, fix what needs to be fixed or accept that we screwed up big time. Then stop, say "Thank You", because even at the tail end, these people were there for you and looked out for you. Get your head out of your ass and at least acknowledge that.
Remember what is possible, what is worth risking and apologize sincerely for our trespasses. After that, just hope for the best, but expect the worst.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
3:16
A man gives up his life so that millions' sins would be forgiven. What does that mean really?
Christianity has told the story countless times, focusing how the sacrifice of this man, who was the son of a god and, bizarrely the very god himself, saved us from our trespasses. John 3:16 goes with the ever memorable "For God so loved the world, He gave us his only son." It seems most of my fellow Christians memorize this scene by heart and yet fail to see how significant this alleged deicide, if one could even call it that, he did take up a mortal coil after all, and miss the underlying message (at least to me) of it all.
Whether or not you believe in the Christian Doctrine, or the Catholic Church or it's many variations, the crucifixion story lends wisdom, albeit an ideal one. Even the godless heathens, the agnostic and those of atheistic tendencies could learn from such melodrama. It's not a story of sacrifice personally, but a culmination of what the man, Jesus Christ stands for. That he was just that, a man (be it true that he was the spawn of a divine being or not) and very much like us. He was subject to the frailty of humanity, the faults and the glory that goes with our very existence. A man who inspired by spreading belief/lies to people who desperately need to hold on to something–faith, hope, illusions. He proved that one man can make a difference, for whatever those reasons and what the difference is is subject to our own personal interpretations.
More importantly, the entirety of his life wasn't just performing miracles or preaching life lessons to the people, but showing us that a man can be good. That with faith, and love, any man or woman can strive to be better than what is expected of him or her. That, to me, was what Jesus Christ represented. Either as a true-to-life inspiration or a lovable character of a story of fiction, he was for all intents and purposes, good, but human, meaning we too, can follow his example.
Yes one could say it's easier to put in a story, but if the idea exists, then perhaps the possibility does as well. After all, what else can change the very nature of a man (or woman) but ideas?
Christianity has told the story countless times, focusing how the sacrifice of this man, who was the son of a god and, bizarrely the very god himself, saved us from our trespasses. John 3:16 goes with the ever memorable "For God so loved the world, He gave us his only son." It seems most of my fellow Christians memorize this scene by heart and yet fail to see how significant this alleged deicide, if one could even call it that, he did take up a mortal coil after all, and miss the underlying message (at least to me) of it all.
Whether or not you believe in the Christian Doctrine, or the Catholic Church or it's many variations, the crucifixion story lends wisdom, albeit an ideal one. Even the godless heathens, the agnostic and those of atheistic tendencies could learn from such melodrama. It's not a story of sacrifice personally, but a culmination of what the man, Jesus Christ stands for. That he was just that, a man (be it true that he was the spawn of a divine being or not) and very much like us. He was subject to the frailty of humanity, the faults and the glory that goes with our very existence. A man who inspired by spreading belief/lies to people who desperately need to hold on to something–faith, hope, illusions. He proved that one man can make a difference, for whatever those reasons and what the difference is is subject to our own personal interpretations.
More importantly, the entirety of his life wasn't just performing miracles or preaching life lessons to the people, but showing us that a man can be good. That with faith, and love, any man or woman can strive to be better than what is expected of him or her. That, to me, was what Jesus Christ represented. Either as a true-to-life inspiration or a lovable character of a story of fiction, he was for all intents and purposes, good, but human, meaning we too, can follow his example.
Yes one could say it's easier to put in a story, but if the idea exists, then perhaps the possibility does as well. After all, what else can change the very nature of a man (or woman) but ideas?
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
The Thin Line (An Ode to Perotto)
Those familiar with the story of Rodrigo Borgia a.k.a Pope Alexander VI and his family, may be familiar with Godfather author Mario Puzo's account of the first crime family in his novel The Family. Though based on history, Puzo took some liberties in order to present a more tightly knit (in my opinion) story. The accuracy may be in question but the gist of the life and times of the Borgia are there. One character that sticks to my mind, although playing a small role, was Perotto, who I hereby dub the patron Saint of Hopeless Romantics (or the Patron Saint of Lovesick Idiots).
Without spoiling much of the great read that is Puzo's The Family, Perotto's character was memorable to me because he was pussy-whipped so bad that it echoed throughout history. This man, for a love of woman, not only claimed to father a child that wasn't even his, he even went above and beyond his "friendship" duty and died for that claim (Basing it on Puzo's account). If the Renaissance ever had a poster child for F*ck My Life worthiness or the ultimate case study of Why the Friend Zone Sucks, Perotto would be their man.
This little tale of selflessness if not base stupidity brings us back to that thin line between love and stupidity. Why would a person even bother risking everything over a situation in which winning or gaining something is entirely impossible if not ridiculuosly improbable? It may be true love but there comes a time that one must question the mechanics of separating the ability to love to the ability of seeing reason. Surely a bit of pragmatism would've helped the situation but nooooo, dear Perotto here had to go on and be a hero, and we all know how well that turned out.
The friend zone is a nasty little place. While it doesn't sound so bad on paper, it really, just REALLY, sucks. BIG TIME. I've often said that I do not wish it upon anyone, because the long, arduous and painstaking torture that it invokes is, in a way, totally justified. The "friend zoned" person agrees to the terms and conditions set upon by both parties, perhaps under the false pretense that things can change, or that somehow he or she (yes, apparently the female gender can be banished to this zone, which is rare) can get used to this setup and move on with their lives while gaining a very valuable confidante. If only we were all that lucky.
If anything, Perotto's tale does prove that there is a thin line, the only problem is, to many people, as to just how thin that line is, is relative. So here's to you Perotto, thank you for making some of us who are threading that thin line feel better, because as of right now, I doubt anyone can blur it as much as you.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
The Little Things
"I never did care for the little things" so says Maggie Hayward, Bridget Fonda's forgettable protagonist in the 1993 film Point of No Return, a somewhat bland and forgettable remake of Nikita. Granted the scene in which this line was delivered seems a bit macabre considering her partner was just shot by their organization's "The Cleaner" played by Hollywood bad ass Harvey Keitel and summarily dipped in an acid-filled bath tub.
Of course, the little things, or the details, are often best left ignored if you're the gung-ho devil-may-care maverick who prefers extreme spontaneity rather than well-planned and calculated decisions. But at the end of the day a certain balance must be struck or one will find themselves, as U2's Bono puts it, Stuck In A Moment that you can't get out of. As the global economy enters into a period of recession, the little things all of a sudden being to matter and prove to be worth caring about.
No we're not talking about the recent layoffs major companies have made, such things are pretty obvious and a man or woman's livelihood are hardly one would call details considering it's essentiality to survival. We're talking about the miniscule little practices or expendetures that prior to the economic "crisis", were things that we hardly take notice of.
Before, I wouldn't have to worry about making it to the next payday since I believe I make enough to provide for day to day needs and a few vices here and there. Two books a month, a gadget from time to time or a big time gift to potential prospect were items or purchases that I could afford to just wave dismisally as nothing. Nowadays however, despite the gas prices being the lowest it has been in years, I have to stop and think about if I have enough to make it to the next payday. All of a sudden I get thoughts like "that book will just have to wait" or "I don't really need that gadget" or even "She's not really my type anyway". You see, why I never really did mind the little things, shifts in the current status quo has made these little things into really big things.
I suppose the recession is going to last longer than we could hope, but in a somewhat strange twist, I feel that I can now manage my money better, and probably spending on bigger things like a trip to the beach or a long overdue vacation. Strange as that may sound, it seems that a wake up call was all I needed to adjust to the way the almighty monies is making the world go round.
So what does this have to do with Bridget Fonda's obscure flick? Well, there's a good reason why some films just suck, it's because of asinine lines like that one above. Which pretty much means, don't listen to it, and don't ascribe to such a mantra so wholeheartedly. Because it will just end in disaster and have you fading to obscuritySo while Bridget Fonda, my dear Bridget, will always one of my favorite faces in Hollywood, a femme fatale and uber sexy assassin she is not. OK maybe it could work, but certainly not with forgettable and non-sensical dialog like that.
P.S. Yes it made 30 million in the box office, but I bet you haven't heard of it or don't remember it if I didn't mention it now eh?
Of course, the little things, or the details, are often best left ignored if you're the gung-ho devil-may-care maverick who prefers extreme spontaneity rather than well-planned and calculated decisions. But at the end of the day a certain balance must be struck or one will find themselves, as U2's Bono puts it, Stuck In A Moment that you can't get out of. As the global economy enters into a period of recession, the little things all of a sudden being to matter and prove to be worth caring about.
No we're not talking about the recent layoffs major companies have made, such things are pretty obvious and a man or woman's livelihood are hardly one would call details considering it's essentiality to survival. We're talking about the miniscule little practices or expendetures that prior to the economic "crisis", were things that we hardly take notice of.
Before, I wouldn't have to worry about making it to the next payday since I believe I make enough to provide for day to day needs and a few vices here and there. Two books a month, a gadget from time to time or a big time gift to potential prospect were items or purchases that I could afford to just wave dismisally as nothing. Nowadays however, despite the gas prices being the lowest it has been in years, I have to stop and think about if I have enough to make it to the next payday. All of a sudden I get thoughts like "that book will just have to wait" or "I don't really need that gadget" or even "She's not really my type anyway". You see, why I never really did mind the little things, shifts in the current status quo has made these little things into really big things.
I suppose the recession is going to last longer than we could hope, but in a somewhat strange twist, I feel that I can now manage my money better, and probably spending on bigger things like a trip to the beach or a long overdue vacation. Strange as that may sound, it seems that a wake up call was all I needed to adjust to the way the almighty monies is making the world go round.
So what does this have to do with Bridget Fonda's obscure flick? Well, there's a good reason why some films just suck, it's because of asinine lines like that one above. Which pretty much means, don't listen to it, and don't ascribe to such a mantra so wholeheartedly. Because it will just end in disaster and have you fading to obscuritySo while Bridget Fonda, my dear Bridget, will always one of my favorite faces in Hollywood, a femme fatale and uber sexy assassin she is not. OK maybe it could work, but certainly not with forgettable and non-sensical dialog like that.
P.S. Yes it made 30 million in the box office, but I bet you haven't heard of it or don't remember it if I didn't mention it now eh?
Saturday, March 7, 2009
The Day The Music Died
Americans refer to the Day the Music Died as the day that young and promising musicians Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and The Big Booper J.P. Richardson's died from a tragic plane crash on February 3, 1965. This is largely due to Don McLean's popular hit, American Pie. Now many ask themselves why McLean came to that conclusion, he did admit to the reference, but never explained himself, prefering to let the listening public decide for themselves why it was the Day the Music Died. Regardless, it was a much-loved song and the reference was considered Gospel.
March 6 was perhaps what many Filipinos would consider as the local version of The Day the Music Died. Of course, the 6th of March did not include a plane crash, nor did it include more than one person, and this person was certainly not young, but he always showed promise. It was tragedy nonetheless, as Francis Magalona, The Man from Manila, succumbed to the complications brought about by Leukemia at March 6, 2009.
I would argue however, that characterizing Magalona's death as a day that Filipino music passed away would be more apt, partly of course as to avoid the risk of betraying other legends such as the Apo Hiking Society, Jet Pangan and the Dawn, the Eraserheads, Hotdog, VST & Co. or even Gary V. Still, the legacy that Magalona left not just to Philippine Rap and Hip Hop, but the music scene in general, is undeniable. It wasn't just about catchy beats and socially relevant lyrics, there was an idea there, an idea that hopefully will be carried by other artists now that the Filipino Master Rapper is finally resting in peace.
Magalona was a firm advocate of patriotism that few might find questionable. His medium was very western (rap and hip hop), and most of his verses and rhymes were in the country's adopted language– English. But that's perhaps what makes his ideals and vocation great. FrancisM thought us to love what is Pinoy, a word that in itself , was a hodgepodge of many faces, races, colors, hues, voices and choices. The pretentious historical elitist or Ye Olde Internet Troll would argue that this was nothing more than an image, a facade to sell colonial mentality under the guise of patriotism. Nay, I say, as behind the words, the music, and the imagery was more than just a Marketing strategy, it was an Idea, and idea that I believe captures what patriotism really is, at least in the Philippine context and in my humble opinion.
Despite the very Americanized medium, what was evident in his songs and lyrics is the Filipino flavor. No, it did not have the Jose Rizal, Andres Bonifacio vibe, an antiquated idea of the Filipino identity (though important to remember) but the contemporary vernacular that majority of his listeners are familiar with. It wasn't about loving what is just natively Filipino (hard as though to differentiate that from the many assimilations that the culture has undergone) but everything we see, past and present. The message was not to be tied down by the historical nuances, the zealous hypernationalist sentiment that bordered on xenophobia, nor was it the backwards bariotic approach of Philippine high art. Rather, it spoke of what is in front of us right now. It told us that this is the modern Pilipinas, that despite the diversity and borrowed colloquialisms, the spirit is still distinctively rooted to this country and its people.
Was he a hero? Certainly not. He was a man with an idea, and a good one at that. Are we overrating him now cause he recently passed away? There's a danger of going down that path, but let the would-be afficionados talk, let them debate and argue. At the end of the day, this Man from Manila, with his music, his beliefs, his life, will always remind me that patriotism is about loving your home in totallity, for what it was, is and will be. That while the Philippines is indeed a melting pot of many cultures, subcultures and demographics, we are all represented under the banner of 3 Stars and a Sun.
Goodnight music man, may your music and ideals live on forever.
March 6 was perhaps what many Filipinos would consider as the local version of The Day the Music Died. Of course, the 6th of March did not include a plane crash, nor did it include more than one person, and this person was certainly not young, but he always showed promise. It was tragedy nonetheless, as Francis Magalona, The Man from Manila, succumbed to the complications brought about by Leukemia at March 6, 2009.
I would argue however, that characterizing Magalona's death as a day that Filipino music passed away would be more apt, partly of course as to avoid the risk of betraying other legends such as the Apo Hiking Society, Jet Pangan and the Dawn, the Eraserheads, Hotdog, VST & Co. or even Gary V. Still, the legacy that Magalona left not just to Philippine Rap and Hip Hop, but the music scene in general, is undeniable. It wasn't just about catchy beats and socially relevant lyrics, there was an idea there, an idea that hopefully will be carried by other artists now that the Filipino Master Rapper is finally resting in peace.
Magalona was a firm advocate of patriotism that few might find questionable. His medium was very western (rap and hip hop), and most of his verses and rhymes were in the country's adopted language– English. But that's perhaps what makes his ideals and vocation great. FrancisM thought us to love what is Pinoy, a word that in itself , was a hodgepodge of many faces, races, colors, hues, voices and choices. The pretentious historical elitist or Ye Olde Internet Troll would argue that this was nothing more than an image, a facade to sell colonial mentality under the guise of patriotism. Nay, I say, as behind the words, the music, and the imagery was more than just a Marketing strategy, it was an Idea, and idea that I believe captures what patriotism really is, at least in the Philippine context and in my humble opinion.
Despite the very Americanized medium, what was evident in his songs and lyrics is the Filipino flavor. No, it did not have the Jose Rizal, Andres Bonifacio vibe, an antiquated idea of the Filipino identity (though important to remember) but the contemporary vernacular that majority of his listeners are familiar with. It wasn't about loving what is just natively Filipino (hard as though to differentiate that from the many assimilations that the culture has undergone) but everything we see, past and present. The message was not to be tied down by the historical nuances, the zealous hypernationalist sentiment that bordered on xenophobia, nor was it the backwards bariotic approach of Philippine high art. Rather, it spoke of what is in front of us right now. It told us that this is the modern Pilipinas, that despite the diversity and borrowed colloquialisms, the spirit is still distinctively rooted to this country and its people.
Was he a hero? Certainly not. He was a man with an idea, and a good one at that. Are we overrating him now cause he recently passed away? There's a danger of going down that path, but let the would-be afficionados talk, let them debate and argue. At the end of the day, this Man from Manila, with his music, his beliefs, his life, will always remind me that patriotism is about loving your home in totallity, for what it was, is and will be. That while the Philippines is indeed a melting pot of many cultures, subcultures and demographics, we are all represented under the banner of 3 Stars and a Sun.
Goodnight music man, may your music and ideals live on forever.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Friends
There is an inherent problem in this phenomena called friendship as it entails the need for a contradiction between the very nature and instinct of self-preservation versus the idea of co-dependency i.e. the need to protect and share with an individual or group of individuals. Granted, that such things are somewhat tied together. After all, there's always an ulterior motive, an agenda to forward, an urge to be satisfied. In doing so one actually forges friendships and acquaintances to forward the preservation of one's own person. The bonds of brotherhood/sisterhood or the love that may form from such dealings are perhaps mere positive externalities rather than the prize of such pursuits.
Trust is at the very core of this discussion. And truth is a lot harder to fathom than think. You can't simply go out and ask someone if they are a true friend, just as they can't do so to you. Interrogation, hanging out or bonding sessions can only reveal so much. Tragedy and turmoil can help clarify things but really, who wants to find out that way? In a time where communication has reached a point that two strangers a world apart can become good friends simply by being in front of digital machine, it is quite underwhelming that we, as a species cannot lay our entirety out in the open. We hide behind half-truths, deceptive lies and a facade that we may not even be aware of or deliberately weave.
Words, pictures, moments, touch. All do a great job reminding, maybe explaining, but they too, are susceptible to the complications. Getting down to the nitty-gritty, it's probably best to have your own little packet of grains of salt. But no, to do so would mean you're merely paranoid, or that you overthink these things. Doing the exact opposite would mean that you're either dumb as a brick or naive. Whichever one you are, you will find that in the end you're broken, and the only thing that's keeping yourself from the solution is the problem itself. The cause and the cure are one and the same, how delightfullly ironic.
Which brings us to the question, and I'm quite certain many have asked themselves this before, who are your true friends? As often as that is asked, I find myself bringing up a follow-up: "is there even such a thing?" Cynical, jaded, or paranoid as it may sound that query is interesting considering the above statement. The answer is quite simple really: who cares? Whether or not you have people who surround you, a circle that you can say are truly there for you when it counts, the alternative–loneliness–is certainly worse. Besides, I've found out the answer long ago, some four years in the past, and the answer is yes, there is such a thing. As for you, my dear reader, you get the delightful little task of finding out on your own, stumbling along the way. I assure you that there will be many tears along the way, but again, the alternative, being alone and uncared for, even superficially is far, far worse.
Trust is at the very core of this discussion. And truth is a lot harder to fathom than think. You can't simply go out and ask someone if they are a true friend, just as they can't do so to you. Interrogation, hanging out or bonding sessions can only reveal so much. Tragedy and turmoil can help clarify things but really, who wants to find out that way? In a time where communication has reached a point that two strangers a world apart can become good friends simply by being in front of digital machine, it is quite underwhelming that we, as a species cannot lay our entirety out in the open. We hide behind half-truths, deceptive lies and a facade that we may not even be aware of or deliberately weave.
Words, pictures, moments, touch. All do a great job reminding, maybe explaining, but they too, are susceptible to the complications. Getting down to the nitty-gritty, it's probably best to have your own little packet of grains of salt. But no, to do so would mean you're merely paranoid, or that you overthink these things. Doing the exact opposite would mean that you're either dumb as a brick or naive. Whichever one you are, you will find that in the end you're broken, and the only thing that's keeping yourself from the solution is the problem itself. The cause and the cure are one and the same, how delightfullly ironic.
Which brings us to the question, and I'm quite certain many have asked themselves this before, who are your true friends? As often as that is asked, I find myself bringing up a follow-up: "is there even such a thing?" Cynical, jaded, or paranoid as it may sound that query is interesting considering the above statement. The answer is quite simple really: who cares? Whether or not you have people who surround you, a circle that you can say are truly there for you when it counts, the alternative–loneliness–is certainly worse. Besides, I've found out the answer long ago, some four years in the past, and the answer is yes, there is such a thing. As for you, my dear reader, you get the delightful little task of finding out on your own, stumbling along the way. I assure you that there will be many tears along the way, but again, the alternative, being alone and uncared for, even superficially is far, far worse.
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