Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Why is Ka Noli so silent?

Another journalist has been gunned down in my country, this time a radio announcer from Samar. This brings to eight the count of dead journalists in this year, and 60 since Mrs Arroyo assumed power.

We, as Filipino citizens, have a responsibility to hear, see, and feel this as a grave threat against our basic freedoms.

Please, please, PLEASE email Ka Noli de Castro, our "Working Vice-President," and plead with him to speak out against these killings.

Go to Open Letter to VP de Castro and copy, edit, and send it to the feedback section of the Office of the Vice President.

Spread the word about those who speak for thousands.

Protect those who seek out information and alert the world.

Stand up for those who have god-given courage, skill, and temerity to bring you your news.

Our journalists may not always cover the things that we are most interested in. We may disagree with their views or even ridicule them for the way that they dispense them. But we cannot, as a free nation, tolerate their harassment or violent treatment, nor can we abide the inaction by local and national government in bringing the killers and the masterminds even within earshot of justice.

Take action. Email Ka Noli de Castro, and ask him to speak out against these killings and for him to take action, too.

Go to Open Letter to VP de Castro and copy it, edit it, and send it to our "Working Vice-President." (http://www.ovp.gov.ph)

You can also scroll down my notes here on FB to find the same letter. This is a simple act that can affect us all. God knows, killing journalists is already changing our nation into the second most dangerous place for journalists, only after Iraq.

For the record, please leave a comment here so that people can see that we don't turn deaf ears and blind eyes to these crimes. Feel free to post this on your FB page or wherever.

As a writer, I thank you. - Carlos

Monday, December 1, 2008

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

0-1-0

Fundamentally, every digital device as we know it is created from binary code, 0/1, which really means On/Off or closed-/open-circuit. This is in tangent to the article on NSA encryption reevaluation that I just read, but as I was fascinated by it, I remembered all the times that I realize that I have no idea how the world works. We've built such a comfortable sconce of things, mechanical marvels and angels pirouetting on microchips, machines that service machines, and pulsating energy, mere information! that actually forms virtual things—quite literally unclaspable facsimiles, concepts held over from our recent history and obsolete memory; of pen and ink, fire and stone, oral history, music, and life with yet uninspired, insinuated lungs.

That we have technologies literally built one on top of the other like some haphazard, damn-the-future-archaeolog
ists-who-will-root-through-this-for-their-PhD-on-some-digital-genealogy-course way is simply stunning.

(I read another article on a new search engine that is trying to one-up—or down—google etc by accepting loooooooong strings of text to find specific articles. Apparently, the google search system has loopholes in that it has a 32-keyword limit, it finds data based on popularity, and others, all of which—according to the creators of this new technology—only fetches 1% of all internet content. Therefore, there is a hundred times more internet than we lay people imagine or have come in contact with. The concept of this search is called deepdyve. )

While I abhor the use of "literally" when people oft mean "virtually," or "metaphorically speaking," or "exaggeratingly yours, Helen," we are at the cooling point of the melding universe of our creation. "Virtual" and "real" are solidifying, the duality is such that floating bits of information can be shooed away and stirred to life like phosphorescent plankton displaying its utmost fragility.

I made a prediction in front of a Facebook worker in Cafe Bean on Sutter St: the next major terrorist attack won't be an A-bomb in a football stadium parking lot during halftime. It will be digital, maybe an EMP, it will decimate our digital lives, and for a second, everyone will stop, tap their mouses, try to scroll, reboot, and give up. Some will give up. Some will inevitably make new stuff up from a DOS floppy disk that he saved and framed for nostalgic purposes. I guess that's why we should all keep a hammer handy.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Hoy! Gising!

Another journalist slain brings up the number of deaths since GMA's 2001 ascendance to the presidency to 54. (Click to read the The Age article.)

As grievous a loss of precious life as this is, this is more alarming when we see that the Philippines is the most dangerous place to work as a journalist, second only to Iraq.

These are not victims of bad spelling, punctuation, or mixed metaphors. These, almost to a victim, are reported to be critical of the rampant, RAMPANT corruption in the Philippines.

Let it be known that Vice President Noli de Castro was one of the most popular news anchorpersons in the Philippines since press freedom was reinstituted after the fall of the Marcos dictatorship.

What does the Veep have to say about this? He had a TV show, "Hoy Gising!" which means, "Hey! Wake Up!" which exposed ineffective governance. I used to watch this a LOT growing up and I know that most Filipinos did, too.

And now, no one can sound the call to government leaders and concerned citizenry alike, not only because they are dead, but because they are being terrorized to death. Contact VP Noli "Kabayan" de Castro ("countryman") to urge him to publicly comment on this and take steps to find the murderers of his fallen colleagues.

Copy, edit, and paste the letter below and visit http://www.ovp.gov.ph/ to send "the working vice president" a Hoy! Gising! email.

=======letter begins=======

Dear Kabayan, Vice President Noli de Castro,

Throughout the years, we have looked up to you as a patriot and a voice for us all who suffered the slow movement of justice and progress. As a young man, you joined DWWW in an era when it was heroic to simply wear the press badge, and it was unthinkable to speak out and stand up against the strangling administration of Marcos and his cronies.

Years later, after a fruitful period of liberty and nationalism, you became the golden voice of Filipino news.

Your run for the Senate (as an independent, a lone voice amidst the machinery of vote-buying and election swindling) you were supported by 16 million Filipinos when you ran for Senator.

When you won, you authored Senate Bill No. 2029 or the "Local Government Transparency Act" which aimed to end corruption through transparency measures in the local government units.

Today, your responsibilities include looking out for OFWs and the working class' housing opportunities and more as Head of the National Price Coordinating Council.

But what we need now, Kabayan Vice President, is help in securing press freedom and vigilance against corruption and poor governance, as you once did in your days with DZMM and ABSCBN. The Philippines ranks the highest in journalist deaths, second only to a war zone, Iraq. Surely, you remember the fear of retribution when you uncovered and reported on irregularities and inaction in your time as the most popular and influential newsman in the Philippines.

We need your voice and your action again today to stop the violence against journalists who are alerting our countrymen to the misdeeds of our elected officials. Please make a statement denouncing these killings and intimidation of the greatest symbol of our liberty, the right to free speech.

Your historic Senate Bill 2029 will be useless if the transparency you advocated will be overshadowed by fear and stained with the blood of your fallen colleagues. Please act on their behalf, as they have acted on the behalf of the Filipino people.

Sincerely,
Your name here

====letter ends=====

Copy, edit, and paste this onto the comment field on http://www.ovp.gov.ph/

"Evil prevails when good men do nothing."

An OpenLetter2.0 to ABS-CBN (A Philippine News Organization)

An OpenLetter2.0 is a letter that you can copy, edit, and send to the prescribed recipients to add your voice to the content of the letter. By swarming the recipient with the same letter or sentiment, we can show that we are watching, thinking, and acting.

Carlos

=======letter begins==========

Please stop comparing Jojo Binay (or any aspirant-du-jour) to Barack Obama. Obama is an outsider who is promising change in business-as-usual Washington. Binay has used his wife and, sure enough, his son to get around term limits and perpetuate his hold on Makati. Makati, despite being the highest revenue earning city in the Philippines, is still Manila-as-usual with undisciplined policemen, traffic enforcers, and PUV drivers. If not for Ayala's high property values and the trickling down from Binay's "pro-poor" projects, he would have been voted out a long time ago.

send to: feedback@abs-cbnnews.com

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Abstinence As An Option

Prop 8, California's vote on whether 'marriage' can be applied to couples of the same sex, should never have been put on the ballot. Again: since when has life and love been something to debate? It is indeed a cruel world thrust upon our generation—and generations before—where we align ourselves on the death penalty, abortion, and now, same-sex marriage upon such a simplistic Either/Or tableau.

What is on the ballot IS NOT, "Do mothers have the right to kill their unborn child?"

It IS NOT, "Is homosexuality deviant and therefore an affront to what 'marriage' or 'family' is?"

It IS NOT, "Does a heinous crime warrant the ultimate punishment?"

What IS on the ballot is fear, mistrust, intolerance, an insecurity that society will not support ME when my life is in others' hands.

If you voted, whether 'yea' or 'nay', the fact that our capacity as humans to show compassion and solidarity is defined by a show of hands is an indictment of us all. We will point fingers long after any decision is made, because a decision was foolishly required.

California should have abstained on this. Unfortunately, the excitement that "my vote" really mattered in a historic election bubbled over into a giddiness that overlooked voters' ability to—in case of defeat—accept the democratic outcome. After all, you could practically hear the marching band on Election Day playing "If God Be With Us, Who Can Be Against Us?"

This is one case where snubbing the ballot would have drummed just as loudly, if not louder.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Nervousness

I've been feeling
a nervousness
ka-thump ka-thump

accelerated heartbeat

signaling

flight
or is it fight?

Ever since Sunday
My last Fare-Thee-Well
A mix of Footie and Bbq
Old friends and new
and some I barely knew
Some I expected but never came
Some I hoped would
ka-thump
ka-thump
but wouldn't

That's when I felt
nervous
out of control

It is Wednesday today
And I have seen stars
A planetarium filled with gaping eyes and glinting eyeteeth
and stars

(It is Tuesday
And I saw the moon, waning above a silver beach
and mdma within reach
Mellow yellow I stared into the bonfire
relaxed
kaaaaaaathump—too relaxed)

And it's Wednesday
and I'm
ka-nervous-thumpthump

Is it a residual high
brought on by the sun disappearing into an artificial vanishing point on a domed ceiling?
Is it the sensation of standing and tilting into a digital sky?
(Oh Planet-are-you'm, ka-thump, ka-boom)

Tethered mind
tie gone slack
today you are taut
s t r e t c h e d
to reasonable limits
under navigable forces that command black holes
and the ambiguity of Me
My here and there though neither at once
In quadrophenic stasis
I feel as though I feel
everything
hence, I guess
the nervousness

Ka-thump

For nothing ka-thump
really changes ka-thump
Time doesn't travel ka-thump
Life follows no lines ka-thump
The miniverse ka-thump
Nor the universe ka-thump
neither expands ka-thump
nor collapses ka-thump
as it matters to us ka-thump
Even the oceans ka-thump
on a slow boil ka-thump
shall not affect ka-thump
the grand ka-thump
grand ka-thump
grand scheme of things

In here, in consciousness and knowledge, there is no light and dark. Only movement.
And there is no justice, no judgment.

Just

A Hearbeat.

Monday, September 15, 2008

Implosions of Faith

Wall Street crashes to the lowest point since 9/11 as banks collapse from rotten housing loans as foreclosure claims 7,000 homes a day.

In other news, Al Qaeda is reported to be imploding from a lack of support from its key constituency, mostly intact Muslims, who are frustrated that the radical group victimizes its own people.

Coincidence? Parallel? Green and red wires to the same bomb? Was bin Laden heavily invested in Merrill Lynch?

Maybe this would be a good time for the Taliban to look to a new demographic that is frustrated with capitalist greed: Americans.

Recruiting wouldn't be a hard sell. There's a property boom in the mountains of Pakistan, Osama's HQ, but I doubt it's the place Uncle Freddie and Aunt Frannie would want to move.

You get a great retirement plan. And more or less, Americans that are getting screwed by the housing crisis already speak the language.

Thursday, August 7, 2008

hyprecise

Won't you be my girl sally

The Police Live, Boston

best drums ever. just listen to the kick

Saturday, July 26, 2008

Dead Ahead

"Hulloa!" is what I call out to pedestrians and car drivers when I can see that they're not looking. This usually happens after they have looked down a street and see no glare of headlights or taillights and presume that the street is clear. Granted, that here in San Francisco, pedestrian is king, but this is a democracy, and therefore, common sense rules over assumed rights.

I've come down the hills of the Haight towards Van Ness at near-midnight in a cold wind and have had to almost come to a stop for a group of 15 crossing the road, if not for the pleasurable experience of having pedestrians stop for me, giving me right of way. "An optimist," Tim Coppola quips, "is a San Franciscan who looks only one way when crossing a one-way street."

A candidate for the Darwin Awards, my boss would probably say, is a person who crosses Market Street before the walk sign goes green, and still fails to look in the direction of traffic.

As you might have guessed, I did make unwanted contact recently with a pedestrian. It was on the east side of Market at New Montgomery. Here's what happened:

I had just crossed Third and was coasting towards New Montgomery; the light always turns red before I get to the intersection. By some chance, the light held at green for longer than usual, and the bike lane/right turn into NM was clear of cars.



I decide to gun it. I look up at the light and it was still green. My peripheral vision says there are no cars counter-flowing up NM and I make a last check that there moving obstructions coming down Montgomery or Post.


And that's when I saw him. He was on the far end of the North-South pedestrian lane, stepping onto the street before the No Walk had turned to Walk. He was looking straight ahead or at his PDA. Not at me. I'm the yellow cut-out below. He's the blue spot on the street.


I shout out He-llow! which maybe I should not have done and instead, should just have tried to avoid him, but instinct kicked in and told me I should give him a heads-up. Naturally he backed right into my path. It's like Neo visiting the Oracle in her apartment. Did I foresee the act of fate happen or did I cause it by foreseeing it and calling attention to it. Either way, it happened.

The green splash is where I hit him. How do I know this? Because I got knocked off my bike and stumbled into the dark green newspaper dispenser on the right, where I audibly whacked! my bike helmet. (If you don't wear a helmet, don't bike. Especially in traffic.)


I'm still on my feet and so is my khaki-garbed obstacle, probably still in a sugar and saturated fat from the McDonald's blueberry bacon muffin (store on the right). I steel myself and turn to him, "Watch where you're going, man!"

At this point there are 4 or 5 other pedestrians who are looking at the otherwise comedic aftermath. When I say what I said, they all say, "You ran a red light!"

No way, sirs, ma'ams. If I ran a red light—and red lights on this intersection are synchronized with the crossing green lights—then how come I ran into McFatty 20 feet away from the street corner and not into them???

This is approximately where I stood (albeit more to the left). The big circle is Sleepy the Street Crosser, and the small ones are the ones that I dodged by some miracle of translocation and invisibility. Look at how far this point is from the intersection. I clearly had at least a half second through the intersection before the light turned red.

Ah well, it is a moot point now. Everyone is safe and sound, and though I haven't inspected my bike for damage yet, it's run well to 25th in the Mission and back to the TL, where I live, so No Blood, No Foul.

The only point I want to make here is if you wish to live in a safe environment, it doesn't happen by doing less of something like paying attention; it happens with vigilance, awareness, and common sense.

Sunday, July 13, 2008

The Light at the End of the Metaphor

Just when I had bought CFL light bulbs, I got hit with the news. In a switch, The INS has turned that 'Give me your tired, your poor and huddled masses' into 'Give me your lucky, your 1 of 3.'

You know that flame that rides atop Her Ladyship Liberty's cone? I wanted to replace that flame with a compact florescent. I wanted something long-lasting. It would save money and it was the right thing to do. Mother would approve of the low wattage, and I had found that IKEA ones have a mild glow that almost incandesce.

So there I was, looking to the future; five, maybe ten years that we could watch that baby burn and see whether the music, when it's over, herald the light's adieu.

Instead it was the "I" in the INS's invisible I N K , that would make my legal goodbye legible, and would make the inevitable flip of the script.

Five dollars for each bulb. A social experiment meant to accrue the due, passing the savings on to—me, true. But now what am I to do? Post a personal on craigslist? "Expedited expatriate needs to pass the torch; they passed on me so I'm passing the savings on to you; fully paid; some installment necessary; ask not which Watt! what you can do is ask rather what your country has done for you."

"Give me your tired, your poor and huddled masses." With luck, they won't pass the dim bulbs onto you. Just the ones that last and pay you back.

Thursday, May 8, 2008

My agency's commitment to social responsibility

One of the main pillars of Wikreate as "360° communications meets social networking" is the establishment of our commitment to our community. Our concept of social networking goes beyond having business relationships with professionals in advertising.

Our goal is also to strengthen corporate social responsibility and give back—or in the case of our newest pro bono project, help NGOs like the Ayala Foundation, USA (AFUSA) give back.

AFUSA and GILAS

Ayala Foundation's shining star right now is GILAS (Gearing Up Internet Literacy Access for Students) which is designed to provide internet to the Phillippines' 6300 public schools. As of May 8, 2008, GILAS has connected 1,750 public schools, giving hundreds of thousands of students a chance to go beyond the dusty trails that lead away from their home towns.

The Philippines is an archipelago of 7,107 islands at low tide. But topography is not the only barrier to solving the lack the web connection. A shortage of funds, and an abundance of mismanagement and bureaucracy in national and local government makes it difficult to deliver the most basic services to 90 million Filipinos. Computers and pipes and tubes is forced low on the list of priorities.

Ayala Corp and Ayala Foundation, Inc., are strong advocates of civic duty, ethical business practice, and grassroots development to improve the lives of the people. It is because of these high standards and care for others that we are proud to make their mission our own.

The importance of internet activity to Wikreate

The experience and success of Wikreate relies heavily on the internet. It allows us to conduct business with suppliers abroad, deliver creative solutions instantaneously, and keep in touch with friends and news sources. The wiki platform is a new, powerful tool that allows more, open, and fresh work between collaborators that is as rich as the bench of players is deep. Such is the Web2.0 mentality that, face it or not, will rule the offline world as well as the online.

For this GILAS project, the media is the message and the message is:

* Connecting the best and the brightest volunteers
* Shining light on the undiscovered
* Teaching the underprivileged, and,
* Giving hope to the near-forgotten islands of poverty.

Wikreate's call to action

There are 3.5 million Filipinos in the US. Presently, half of these are living in California. The challenge is to reach these using little more than AFUSA's database of 7,000 emails, a smattering of volunteer groups on Yahoo! groups, and the tools that will open up the hearts and minds of the new generation of Americans who have ties, or once had ties, to the Philippines.

Seven thousand contacts. Seven thousand, one hundred seven islands. At low tide.

Saturday, April 26, 2008

A connection with the past

I didn't know whether I've said this in a previous blog, but whether I have or not, it doesn't matter because what I'm about to say is true.

I've missed the intentional and oft invasive manner of the Egyptians. People that you meet on the street will take your hand and be your best friend for at least as long as it takes to make a sale. Like I told my friend, the cosmopolitan universe of Egypt has lasted long before there were steamships to take white people over there. Ever since the Romans were expanding their frontiers and coming home and made a detour before they arrived to their mothers and wives, they passed by the oldest city in the world to experience something older than they.

Because of this environment—this constant motion of strangers through their land—their behavior has been influenced to accept and accommodate the influx of tourists and people from far away entranced by the history. The resilience of those who live in its shadow, and the transient nature of its survival, is an energy in and of itself, generating the fascination from within.

They speak many languages in Egypt (although getting into a taxicab whose driver doesn't speak a word of English or Filipino except for 'Coca Cola' isn't rare at all, so check and double check your transportation's multiliguisticality applications) and hawkers and touts on the street will not stop at rattling off some Romance or Baltic tongue to wow you into buying something.

This is not ever to say that all Egyptians you meet are marrying you off to their sister, brother, goat, or date palm). I guess that depending on their social status and the nature of their business, some will befriend you because networking is as (or more) important to them than the fast buck that they may or may not make depending on how fast they are or gullible you are. For example, I befriended this bunch of gentlemen, Aly Baba and his son, Hussien, and nephew, who ran a restaurant in Luxor. A great and educated bunch, they welcomed me with the class and suave of international men of mystery. They are certainly into being your friends for the long haul. People like these, whom you can make a mental, emotional, and/or philosophical promise to hold dear and are likewise throwing themselves into your path, as a fellow tourist of Life itself, are the ones you should keep.

People who have 6,000 years of heritage have no misgiving about eternal life and the issuing religions that market this wondrously incongruous concept. More than anything, the transience that they see in the everyday is but a 24-hour cycle of their God, Ra. So fleeting, so predictable, so essential, but so insignificant. The mere occurrence of the sunrise and sunset can never live up to the presence of the life-giving spirit.

If you're unsure about people, and their intentions, maybe you should go to Egypt, and get the depth and breadth of sincerity, warmth, and love that has existed fall this time.


I traveled on the Nile for 2 days like this, just drifting with the ancient tide.


Thanks to GNU/Wikipedia for this image

Monday, April 21, 2008

The Biking 351st

I have always envied cyclists, in-line skaters, skateboarders, and to a lesser extent, skiers, snowboarders, and surfers.

Independence has always been HUGE for me. Be it that I was over protected, the youngest of five children, or raised with a sense of pride that grows without the benefit of sunlight, I have always—will always—want to do some things entirely on my own. Biking is the perfect example of this innate desire; as of this month, now known as "The Biking 351st" and heretofore known as "April," I am an independent traveler.

I went to Egypt all by myself last September and the mix of fear and excitement still fills me whenever I look down at the mid-cuts that I wore from Cairo to Dahab. I wore those shoes out good. And along with the fear and excitement swells a sadness. A sadness that all my walking in this nascent West Coast City will destroy these shoes and render them more decrepit than the 4,000 year-old rock, stone, and sand formations that it climbed. And where I am now—it is the farthest that one can go from that first step of civilization without crossing a dateline and being sent back to it. I will preserve these shoes as I pedal myself on to much newer, but ironically, more familiar things.

I first took a journey completely alone when I was a child of but 11. We lived in a suburb called San Juan in Metro Manila, about 10 miles from the financial and medical heart of the city, Makati. The reason I mention the word medical is that my mom went into surgery to remove her cataracts in a procedure that nowadays would be considered obsolete, even archaic. She was bedridden and blind for days, gauze pads over her eyelids. On the first day of her surgery, a summer in 1990, I went out of my house. Walked about 300 meters to the busy traffic in Pinaglabanan, and boarded my first jeepney solo. At EDSA, I had to find a bus that advertised my destination: Ayala.

Different modes of travel force you to think vastly differently. Driving or riding a ca, we think of one way roads, intersections, and signal lights. On buses, we think of landmarks, bus stops, and transfers for our way back. Walking, we think of shortcuts, diagonal lines, holes in cyclone wire fences.

I picked up a Japanese proverb in Egypt, "He who travels alone travels fastest." Riding my bike around the city has given me a whole new perspective of the streets and the people and the traffic. For now I have to look out for both pedestrian and automotive traffic. I also have to look at landmarks, intersections, but I also have to look out for potholes, inclines, Muni streetcar tracks, opening doors from parked cars. I also have to learn not to look when a car zips right by me with six inches to my left. But as with all my modes of transport, I have learned to love the independence, the mobility, and now, the pleasure of wind in my face, the levitation from the hard, dirty pavement, the autonomy expressed in speed, my contribution to being a responsible member of my planet, these are things that are unequaled by walking, driving, or riding a bus. I am a singing, smiling, sustainable development on two wheels, healing scabs and all.