Frank A Hilario

A wedding concert. Ding & Joy Hilario singing the greens

2011-12-24T23:46:00.001+08:00

MANILA - Yesterday we were in Valenzuela City, which now I must call The Romantic City, first of all because of the shock and solace of the story of City Councilor Shalani Soledad, whom boyfriend and Senator Noynoy Aquino broke up with once he became President of his country, and who is now betrothed to a scion of the illustrious Romulos, Congressman Roman Romulo (see my story, "Stormy weather. How Shalani Soledad survived Signal #3," 30 September 2011, Flipinos, Flips! blogspot.com). The announced non-wedding was a shock; the announced wedding was too.

We were attending a wedding. This one was expected. I have 4 sons: Jomar, Paul, Ding and Edwin. The 3rd, July Salvador "Ding" Reynoso Hilario, got married yesterday, and that leaves the 4th as the lone bachelor. All good-looking boys, I must say. Friends used to tease me about my looks referring to the girls by asking an impertinent question, "Bakit magaganda ang mga anak mo?" Why are your daughters pretty? My pertinent reply, "Kasi maganda ang nanay nila." Because their mother is pretty. And it's all true.

The whole Hilario Family was there, father & mother and 10 children, those who are in the Philippines, including the grandchildren: From Taguig City, Jose Mario & wife Clarisse & children Sean Ryker & Lucia Agatha & Earl Clement; from Los Baños, Paul Benjamin & wife Celeste & daughter Yja; from Quezon City, Teresa Leonor & husband Toto Ilowa & daughter Samantha. From Los Baños, sons July Salvador and Edwin Dante. daughters Cynthia Mae, Jennifer Claire, Daphne Cassandra, Neenah Bonafe, and Graciela Antonia. Cristina Marie, eldest, is in Toronto with husband Christian Capati and children Maia, Tia, & Noah; Maria Lorena is in New York with husband Karl Cerni and children Gabby, Ina & Bea.

The wedding was at the Bahaghari Center at Valenzuela City, where bahaghari means rainbow. They made one of the colors the wedding theme: Green. Bahaghari is where members of Bread of Life Valenzuela gather Sundays for their weekly worship services. The Hilarios are Roman Catholic, so why do we have a son who is not? In fact, we have a daughter, Teresa Leonor, who is married to Armando "Toto" Ilowa, and they are both Bread of Lifers. And why is that? Because early on, my wife Ampy and I decided to let the children choose their own churches. Well, I was not a good Roman Catholic myself.

The invitation read:

Ding & Joy … whose hearts beat to let God's face shine through.
Together with their parents, Mr & Mrs Frank Hilario and Amparo Hilario
Mr & Mrs Rolando Andres and Victoria Andres
Invite you to share their joy as they are united in the Lord Jesus Christ
on Friday, the 23rd of December, Two Thousand and Eleven
8:00 am at Bahaghari Center, Valenzuela City.

For the Hilario & Andres nuptial, Officiating Minister was Pastor Manuel David Diamante. The one who pronounced them Man and Wife was Rev Godofredo Ricafort. Sponsors were 24, in the order of their appearance in the list: Lyle Hannah, Ignacio Andres, Modesto Bare, Mario Dizon, Ferdinand Huraño, Edgar Coquia, Teodoro Reynoso, Abelardo Nolasco Jr, Eduardo Reyes, Jose Mario Hilario, Jess Bacarra, Alvin Maddara, Rebecca Hannah, Marites Andres, Nenita Bare, Elizabeth Dizon, Edna Huraño, Olivia Acosta, Gloria Fabillar, Maritess Nicolas, Susan Reyes, Norma Andres, Eugenia Antolin, and Katherine Jean Diamante.

Best Man was Lemuel Cruz and Maid of Honor was Jay Anne Zaldivar.

Sponsors were: for Candle, Elias Evan Inocencio and Minerla Fabillar; for Veil, Neil Brian Dizon and Emvy Marie King; for Cord, Edwin Dante Hilario and Aizel Ebreo.

Bearers were: for the Bible, Ethan Michael Alfonso; for the Coin, Samantha Ilowa; for the Ring, Sean Ryker Hilario.

Flower Girls were: Amabel Ira Beatrice Andres, Yja Celestine Hilario, Lucia Agatha Hilario and Isabelle Kislap Diamante.

Members of the band: Ann Figueroa, keyboard; Jake Roxas, bass guitar; Allan Escalante, drums; Ding Hilario, lead guitar.

(I can't give you more details than those. I was just absorbing everything. I took very little notes - and then I'm missing them now! But I remember the surprises:

1st surprise. Rev Ricafort explains the symbols of marriage: Bible, ring, coin, cord, veil, candle. I never attended a wedding in any church where the symbols were explained in such detail. I remember about the veil - it goes on the head of the woman and around the shoulders of the man, to signify that, in my own words, the head of the woman is subservient to the head of the man. The Reverend was focusing (or I was) on love and submission, quoting from the New Testament: "Husbands, love your wives." And, "Wives, submit to your husbands." Thank you, Reverend!

2nd surprise. My wife reminds me not to forget the candle ceremony. Ah yes. There were 3 candles, the middle being the largest of them all. With the candle to the left, Victoria Andres was supposed to light it with a match, with Rolando cupping the flame against the wind; the candle to the right, Amparo and Frank Hilario were to do similarly. My wife is proud that she did it with a single strike; Victoria had to strike again. Then the ladies went up to the bigger candle to light it with their candles - I saw the ladies light the big one simultaneously. It was a beautiful sight.

3rd surprise. My son July Salvador was singer and he was playing lead guitar with the band. I was surprised because I had forgotten that he had been a member of the band of Bread of Life Los Baños. And he can sing.

4th surprise. My newest daughter-in-law can sing and hit the high notes too. This Andres is a little bundle of Joy.

5th surprise. The wedding ceremonies were supposed to start at 8 AM but it didn't, as happens in Filipino weddings. About noon, that was when the reason was made clear why Mr & Mrs Ding & Joy Hilario were singing together with the band. It was that they were in fact now holding a concert to give thanks to those who attended the party. I have never attended a wedding party that was also a wedding concert, with the newlyweds doing the concert yet.

6th surprise. Of the songs sung, I remember, of course, "Joy to the World." But the one I like best is the song originally sung by Mega Star Sharon Cuneta, "Kahit Maputi Na Ang Buhok Ko," but which July Salvador revised and sang as "Kahit Maputi Na Ang Dreadlocks Ko." You see, the groom has locks as long as 10 years old or older.

7th surprise. As token of thanks to their parents, the newlyweds gave each one a heavy green bag of "Healthy Options" that comes with the slogan "Life is beautiful in a world of Healthy Options" (healthyoptions.com.ph). I opened my gift bag and out came a heavy bottle almost full of a light brown liquid. It says on the label: Lakewood Organic Fresh Pressed Pure Apple. It is made of thick glass with 100% apple juice, not from concentrate, all of 1 quart or 946 mL. It also says that it "(a) helps restore vital body electrolytes, (b) supports the digestive system for overall well-being and vitality, and (c) helps maintain normal cholesterol levels and supports the immune system." Truth to tell, it has this caveat in bold letters: "No supplement alone can provide the important complex nutrients found in a variety of fruit and vegetable juices." Perhaps not.

The word organic is all over the label. I have no doubt that the apple fruits pressed to make the juice have been organically grown, with no added synthetically compounded fertilizers, pesticides, herbicides or growth regulators. You know what? This is a historical reminder for me. In the mid-1960s, I was already writing about organic farming in the student newsletter of the University of the Philippines College of Agriculture and the Philippines Free Press, but the PhDs of this Cow College were laughing behind my back. In 1968, I brought my organic farming ministry to Xavier University College of Agriculture, and the young Nicanor "Nicky" Perlas bought it hook, line and thinker. That started him on his road to biodynamic agriculture, trying to change the universe of chemical agriculture, and lately on the road to missioning the world to change from scientific materialism to spiritual & organic meaningfulness.

Organic. Marriage is organic to the world. "What God has joined together, let no man put asunder" (Matthew 19: 6). A marriage of convenience is not organic. Little green apples are organic.

Little Green Apples

And I wake up in the morning with my hair down in my eyes, and she says "Hi."
And I stumble to the breakfast table while the kids are going off to school, goodbye.
And she reaches out and takes my hand and squeezes it, and says, "How you feeling, Hon?"
And I look across at smiling lips that warm my heart, and see my morning sun.
And if that's not loving me, then all I've got to say,
God didn't make the little green apples, and it don't rain in Indianapolis in the summer time.
And there's no such thing as Dr Seuss, or Disneyland and Mother Goose, no nursery rhymes.
God didn't make the little green apples, and it don't rain in Indianapolis in the summer time.
And when myself is feeling low, I think about her face and go and ease my mind.

If it is Your Will. How long ago is a broken heart?

2011-12-18T01:46:00.001+08:00

Will she heal, or will she not? Not yet.

Charm Dogma has a new essay, "Healing a Broken Heart" (17 December 2011, Charm Dogma, blogspot.com). It's her story. As usual, it's short but, as usual, it's a long story. How long ago is a broken heart?

You're not alone, Charm. It happens all the time. It happens to the girl; it happens to the boy. It's what happens after it happens that you should watch out.

For me, it happened almost 50 years ago. I was a student at the University of the Philippines College of Agriculture, that Cow College.

She was my first love, and this boy from the village fell in love with this girl in town. I was from Asingan in Pangasinan, a town that never grew, and she was from Lucena, a town that grew up to be a city faster than this boy grew up to be a man.

I fell in love so hard that in 3 of my subjects I Failed (grade of 5) and was Conditional in 2 others (grade of 4). And so they kicked me out of that Cow College, and that broke my heart. I couldn't tell my parents or confide to anyone else at home or to any friend, and that broke it to littler pieces. The boy who was the proud intelligent son had failed his mother and he couldn't tell her.

I got readmitted, thanks to the kindness of Filomena Campos, chair of the readmission committee, who asked one simple question: "What happened?" She knew she was talking to a bright boy who had made a sad mistake. There was enough hope in him. There was also enough tension.

A couple of years later, I was struggling to win my Waterloo - I took Entomology 3 times; on the 3rd try, the last requirement was to submit stage by stage an insect culture from egg to adult. I couldn't do it exactly as expected, for God's sake, but thanks to the kindness of Emiliana Bernardo, I Passed.

At about the same time, I broke up with my girlfriend, but you break your own heart even if you break someone else's. I did. I was Humpty Dumpty who had a great fall, and it was my own doing. I let myself go, and I fell, and I broke into pieces.

Why did I break up with her? Let me just say I suddenly saw in one bright night that it was a one-sided love affair. What happened that evening amidst the celebration of the town fiesta in that May of long ago was a small thing, and that is why it was such a big thing to me. I became so angry I had to splash my face with cold water from the nearest open cooler for drinks. The drinks were to warm you up; the water was to cool me down.

Suddenly that small thing reminded me of other small things done and not done. As Excellence is, Love is in the details. If you cannot pay attention to the details, you cannot pay attention to Love, which must always be Excellent.

I said "Excellent," not "Perfect" - the difference is in the details. Why did Jesus Christ say, "You must be perfect" to his disciples? Because they were not. Because we are not.

So why do you think Charm Dogma is talking about being broken hearted this Christmas 2011? Because it's a good time as any; because breaking up happens; because breaking up is hard to do (Neil Sedaka, 1962):

Don't take your love away from me
Don't you leave my heart in misery
If you go, then I'll be blue
'Cause breaking up is hard to do!

Why is it that it broke my heart when I broke up with my girl, my first love? It broke her heart, but it broke mine more. First love never dies, and it refuses to just fade away.

When your heart breaks, it breaks forever - until you do something about it.

They say that breaking up is hard to do
Now I know, I know that it's true
Don't say that this is the end
Instead of breaking up I wish that we were making up again.

But how do you mend a broken heart? You don't. Only God can. Actually, only you can. God takes care of the details after you, not before you, not for you.

So how finally was my broken heart mended, God willing after me?

Clue: It is your will first: That I have come to realize only today.

Not knowing that, not knowing any better, it took me more than 30 years to get over my broken heart, the one that I myself broke!

Along the way, there were quite a few times I nearly lost my mind. That was the year I was teaching at the Asingan High School in my hometown. The school year began brightly enough. I had taken the Pangasinan provincial qualifying exam and placed #2 with my 90.5% (boy, BSA major in Ag Ed, UP Los Baños), where #1 was 90.6% (girl, BS Elem Ed, UP Diliman). I felt like #1. I taught World History and math subjects. I was the turtle in his element.

It was the best of times; it was the worst of times. It wasn't the teaching; it wasn't the learners - it was the teacher, because he had learned well how to solve the algebraic problems from the textbook of the school but he wasn't learning well how to solve the spiritual problems from the textbook of life. I led a troubled intellectual life that I vaguely recognized.

One day, I was biking home from school with my good teacher friend Federico Butuyan when I felt my heart palpitating and my head was going to burst. I begged my friend to go back to town for me to consult with the only one doctor who could help me, Dr Vitug, who I knew had a framed diploma showing in his clinic that said he had some training in psychiatry or related subject in the United States. I knew I was going crazy. He asked me to focus my eyes on something on the wall before me, anything, keep that focus, and talk. Tell me what is happening to you. He knew what was happening, but he wanted me to articulate it, to be able to confront it. What are you thinking? I was thinking I was dying - I couldn't tell him I was thinking I was going crazy. The good doctor knew exactly what to say, what to do, and he saved me from myself.

That was the worst day of my life, and it went away without me, thank God.

But the bad days - and nights - didn't go away. I was imagining bad things happening to me. Death. Insanity. And I shared all those thoughts with myself, and scared me more. I couldn't confide to anyone; I didn't know how.

Then it was my birthday; I was in the Roman Catholic church in my hometown in Asingan, and I pleaded with God as my birthday gift to make me whole again - and He didn't! He said No. Actually, he didn't say anything. He wasn't talking to me. What do you do when God isn't talking to you?

A couple of years later, with my anxieties and all, I got married. I was looking good on the outside, feeling bad in the inside. As a writer, at the Cow College, being anti-establishment was a new role for me, and I took to it like duck to water; but being a father was a new role, and I was unnerved; I wasn't ready - and so I asked my wife, "Puede bang …?" Can we …? I didn't have to finish the sentence; my wife knew I was suggesting an abortion. She was shocked, and so was I. How could I even suggest such a thing?! But I did. I suddenly felt I wasn't mature enough, let alone calm and collected enough to be a father. The child's name? Cristina Marie. She is now married and has 3 children; she lives with her family in Toronto. And yes, her mother told her, and kept reminding her, and told others too, that her father wanted her aborted when she was still in the womb.

I do not need to describe the slow-burning hate from the mother and from the daughter.

1 year later and God had done nothing with Frank A Hilario and his anxieties. Unfriendly days, 2 years. Unfriendly nights, 3 years. Unfriendly days, 4 years. Unfriendly nights, 10 years. 20 years. 25 years. 30 years.

How do you get over years and years of anxieties? I didn't know you could. God didn't tell me how. He wasn't speaking to me, remember?

Ah, when God said No, I began to think of him as a What-If God. What if there is no God? What matters if there is God?

So, for at least 20 years, I was an agnostic. To be sure, an anxious agnostic. Agnosticism doesn't solve your problems; in fact, it changes nothing, because God is not your problem, even if you don't know it - even if God isn't saying anything.

On 4-6 January 1991, my wife and I attended our Marriage Encounter (ME) in Cavite City under the Bukás Loób sa Díyos (BLD) Catholic Charismatic / Covenant Community. Fr Larry Tan was our Spiritual Director. After that, we became BLD members. The ME saved our marriage, which was breaking up. So I returned to God and the Roman Catholic Church. But the ME didn't save me my angst.

In the same year, the Hilario family attended our Family Encounter (FE) weekend seminar; the FE saved the family, which was disintegrating. The FE didn't save me either from my anxieties.

When you are in the charismatic movement, you are taught to surrender yourself, especially your weaknesses, your sins, at the foot of the Cross. So now my healing was between me and God - again. But this time, I could expect God to be talking to me. He may say No, but he will be speaking to me.

What I did was try and learn to surrender my hurts, insecurities, lapses, aberrations, rebelliousness, inconsistencies, and omissions to God.

So, I learned to surrender everything to God. At the virtual foot of the Cross, I said, "God, here are my burdens. Take all of them, please! I cannot carry them anymore. They're all yours!" God didn't say anything but I thought he was listening.

1 year later, it was the same anxious me of many years. 2 years later, same anxious me. 3 years later, same me. 4 years. 5 years.

Then one day, at home, I suddenly realized that I was now enjoying the company of my children. A quiet awakening. That was 13 children late, but better late than never. That was around 1995. A much-delayed metamorphosis, I must say.

Simply living on faith is a long journey to being whole again; simply banking on hope is a very long journey to healing. I now believe my favorite Romans 12 promises a sweeter and swifter process of healing rather than just surrendering all your cares at the foot of the Cross and waiting for years and years and years for God to speak to you. St Paul's letter to the Romans spoke true; here is Romans 12: 2:

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God - what is good and acceptable and perfect.

So, not following my years-of-struggle example, how do you mend your broken heart, how do you heal your broken spirit? Instantly, with St Paul. But you have to take charge. By renewing your mind. It's your will. Claim it, will it! It is the will of God that you be healed; you must will it yourself, because God will not do it for you. You yourself must will what is good and acceptable and perfect.

A Day In The Life. Mother Mary comes to me

2011-12-09T19:16:00.001+08:00

MANILA - Today, 08 December 2011, is Immaculate Conception Day; this is the day we Roman Catholics celebrate what we believe to be the day Mary the mother of Jesus was conceived without sin. Doesn’t that explain why Jesus was born without sin?

Why do Catholics adore Mary so much you could say they pay her more attention than Jesus the Christ?

Because Mary is the most ideal of mothers. "Mexican women and all the poor can claim Mary as symbol of motherhood because they have the existential human faith experience that 'mother is and always will be there'" (Carol Frances Jegen, books.google.com). Didn't you know that the Philippines is a matriarchal society?

I have read somewhere that Mary is the Bride of Christ. I am not comfortable with that; there's a mixed metaphor somewhere if only you can find it. I haven't heard of any Filipino talk about Mary like that, and I myself prefer to call Mary simply the mother of Jesus. But in fact, motherhood is not simple. Especially this one where the son is going to be crucified.

Immaculate means free from stain or blemish; pure (American Heritage Dictionary); If Mary were not conceived immaculately, free from original sin, then Jesus her son would not have been free from original sin and could not have redeemed us from sin because he was with sin.

This is all Catholic dogma, of course; you believe or you don't believe. The Catholic Encyclopedia says there is "no direct or categorical and stringent proof of the dogma that can be brought forward from Scripture" (newadvent.org). I'm okay with that. That's why it's a matter of faith.

One way of looking at it is this: "Hail Mary full of grace." I do not need proof that she was. I take that to mean the angel knew of her Immaculate Conception even if Mary herself didn't. She gave birth to Jesus and laid her in swaddling clothes in a manger; you need grace to be able to do that. To flee from the king's assassins, you need grace to be able to escape. She was witness to the crucifixion and her son died in her arms; you need grace to be able to survive that.

The first mother, Eve, had it - by the grace of God she was created; she was feminine all right but fell into temptation and out of grace. Being simply a wife and not yet a mother has its own temptations.

In 1646, King John IV of Portugal proclaimed Mary (Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception) as the country's patron saint, and so 08 December is a very special day among the Portuguese (Wikipedia).

Even so, wouldn't it be simpler if Mother Mary is simply considered the greatest and holiest of the saints - but not sinless? In truth, American Catholic says (americancatholic.org):

While many Fathers and Doctors of the Church considered Mary the greatest and holiest of the saints, they often had difficulty in seeing Mary as sinless - either at her conception or throughout her life. This is one of the Church teachings that arose more from the piety of the faithful than from the insights of brilliant theologians. Even such champions of Mary as Bernard and Thomas Aquinas could not see theological justification for this teaching.

The problem with exalting Mary so much as to be without sin right from the beginning is that she didn't need grace to lay her son in a manger; she already was full of grace. She didn't need grace to flee from the would-assassins of her son; she already was full of grace. She didn't need grace to grieve the death of her son; she already was full of grace. She could not have suffered so much because she already was full of grace. Therefore, Mary without sin as the Mother of Jesus cannot be made the symbol of motherhood - her life was nowhere near what our mothers have in any Christian country in the world.

With that view, I can look at the story of the temptation of Eve as the temptation of every wife, where even in a God-overfull place, one can be tempted. Then I can look at Mother Mary again as the symbol of motherhood, femininity, family and loyalty - no matter what happens. That would be what I would expect of every mother.

In this Age of Information Technology, what is the role of the mother? To be a mother, like Mary as much as possible. Technology doesn't change anything, except your perspective.

Pray, what would be the role of the father? I'm almost beyond redemption at 71, now a grandfather of 11, but it's never too late to start something good.

Me, I celebrate Immaculate Conception Day with my purchase of a brand new Lenovo G470 IdeaPad with an Intel Pentium B940 Dual Core processor running on 2 GB RAM, hard drive 500 GB SATA running at 5400 RPM, keyboard full size, Read-Write DVD drive. I have Windows 7 Professional installed, and Microsoft Office 2010 legit, so everything considered, it's fast, very fast. Not satisfied with the speed, I have reset the Total Paging File Size in MB to 4,567 Initial Size and 12,345 MB Maximum Size, so now I can see that my Lenovo G470 is at least 4 times faster than factory set. It pays to know about how you can manage Virtual Memory.

Did I buy my new Lenovo laptop to celebrate Mother Mary's special day? No, but since I noticed that the 2 events happened on this same day, I had the idea that I would dedicate the rest of my life to the cause that she symbolized: family. Family, especially now that my extended family is bothered by misunderstandings and misgivings.

Paul McCartney sings:

When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be
And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

You gotta have heart! Corazon. Mary was all heart. If there is a heart to a society, it's the family. If you talk of core values, the final measure must be the family. You can disembowel the family, or you can try to keep it whole. You need grace. You need God as much as you need community. And what is community? It's a family!

The 3 Eternal Questions: Truth, beauty & goodness

2011-11-16T03:51:00.001+08:00

Posted in frankahilario.wordpress.com 12 May 2006, reposted here unedited because I think that, really, The 3 Eternal Questions are eternal:

When some people talk about Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, the President of the Philippines, they can talk neither articulately nor intelligently about her. She gets their goat! They simply condemn her as someone who is bad (black), implying that they are simply good (white), especially calling her as simply a liar, someone who cannot or refuses to tell the truth. That is because some people don’t look beyond their own truths.

You will be surprised what you learn if you look beyond your reach. Today, just a few minutes ago, I decide to look in the Internet what ‘arroyo’ means and babylon.com brings me to Wikipedia (the free encyclopedia), which tells me that an ‘arroyo is an intermittently dry creek.’ Actually, the original reads like this: ‘an intermittantly dry creek.’ The footnote says that the Arroyo page was last modified 5 May 2006 by Phatty; I look deeper and it says the first entry was made by BDAbramson on 8 July 2005. Remember, Wikipedia is an encyclopedia anyone can edit - what I have just found out means that for almost 10 months now, nobody has noticed the mistake and/or cared enough to correct it. (I’m not going to edit it - let’s see how much more time passes by before someone rights the wrong. In any case, I have just print-screened the page in case I need it for reference or proof later. If you want to check right now, clink http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arroyo - where ‘clink’ is a word I’m coining from ‘click the link.’)

To me, that ‘Arroyo’ page is an excellent illustration not that Wikipedia is bad but that you can find human errors even when you’re not looking for them: they’re everywhere. Which means if you go out looking for them, you will find a million more. Which means you can make it a career looking for mistakes. Which is exactly the preoccupation of those who oppose GMA. Which means if all you can see is that GMA can’t do anything right, you too are in the opposition, and your mental exercise is jumping to conclusions. I pity you because you’re not enjoying your own exercise! An exercise in futility.

You want GMA to tell the truth. What is Truth? asks Pontius Pilate and does not stay for an answer. The GMA oppositionists are like that, the outs, the dreamers too, including the putchists, including those who are not using their head, or only using their head, whether they are in wolf’s or sheep’s clothing. All they want is truth, rightness, verity, veracity. They want the truth from others, but not from themselves. Veracity, how many crimes are committed in thy name!

It’s biblical. Why does not Pontius Pilate wait for the answer? Today, I believe it is because he knows the question is not enough: ‘What is Truth?’ I, along with the Pontius Pilates and the Judases among us, must also ask two other questions: ‘What is Beauty?’ and ‘What is Goodness?’ The 3 Questions. The 3 Eternal Questions. I pray your answers are not as good as mine - but better!

Distinctive Annual Reports. Creative Writing you should expect

2011-11-08T11:16:00.001+08:00

MANILA - Want a memorable annual report? The proof of the writing is in the putting. The proof of the shooting is in the shot. Frank H just received The Outstanding UPLB Alumnus Award 2011 for Creative Writing, right? Almost exactly 1 month ago today. The should next come up with The Outstanding UPLB Alumnus Award for Photography.

Back to Creative Writing. Like a duck to the water, 45 months ago, in February 2008, I took on a proper contract with the Office of the Chancellor of UP Los Baños; within a few days, I submitted a complete and unique outline for the UPLB Annual Report 2007. The outline was this:

(Title)
UP Los Baños 2007:
Celebrating UP Centennial,
Cerebrating Distinctive Excellence

(Introduction)
Keeping An Eye On The Vision, Teamworking For The Mission

(A) UPLB Contributing To The UP Centennial Celebration

(B) Strengthening The Pillars Of Distinctive Excellence
B1. Nurturing People
- faculty, REPS, administration staff, tenure
B2. Developing Resources
- income generation, structural improvement, systems & resources enhancement, repair & maintenance
B3. Enhancing The Academic Environment
- courses & classes, scholarship & thesis support, recruitment & admission, reviews & tutorials, student welfare

(C) Nurturing Minds & Cultivating Relationships
C1. Enriching Knowledge, Improving Skills
- publications, websites, basic research, non-degree training programs, Ugnayan ng Pahinungod, conferences/forums/symposia
C2. Fostering Entrepreneurship
- entrepreneurship & intellectual property rights
C3. Contributing To Nation Building
- management of natural resources, biofuels & forest products, Science & Technology Park, gender, culture & the arts
C4. Exploring & Enhancing Partnerships
- pursuing active linkages, technical assistance & training, alternative energy

(D) Looking Forward
D1. Reviewing Today
(no text given, dependent on the final agreed-upon manuscript)
D2. Looking To Tomorrow
grand reunions, structural & systemic growth, plans, proposals, The Future

From me, that's a lesson in Creative Writing after all - first, you create the outline of the annual report, then you write the report.

And how do you create that creative outline? First, you have to read thoroughly the individual unit reports to get a good idea of the substance; then you try to combine them into coherent wholes. That's easier said than done, considering that the University of the Philippines Los Baños comprises the following:

Schools & Colleges - Agriculture, Arts & Sciences, Development Communication, Economics & Management, Engineering & Agro-Industrial Technology, Environmental Science & Management, Forestry & Natural Resources, Human Ecology, Veterinary Medicine, and Graduate School.

Offices - Chancellor, Alumni Relations, Institutional Linkages, Public Relations, Student Affairs, Vice-Chancellor for Administration, Vice-Chancellor for Community Affairs, Vice-Chancellor for Instruction, Vice-Chancellor for Planning and Development, and Vice-Chancellor for Research and Extension.

Other Units - Business Affairs, Campus Planning & Development Office, Committee on Culture & the Arts, Continuing Education Center, Human Resource Development Office, Information Technology Center, Intellectual Property Rights Office, Internet & Network Administration, Land Grant Management Office, Makiling Management Office, Office of Alumni Relations, Office of Public Relations, Office of Student Affairs, Resource Generation & Development Office, Science & Technology Park, Southern Tagalog Agriculture & Resources Research & Development Consortium, Ugnayan ng Pahinungod/Oblation Corps, University Health Services, University Library, UPLB Housing Office, and University Publications Office.

So, if you have seen any University-wide annual and/or Chancellor term reports dated 2008 and later years that have similar sections, now you know where the impulse of creativity came from.

I'm sharing with you this information because I want to show you that:

(1) An annual report need not be a boring manuscript.
(2) A creative annual report adds substance to accomplishments.
(3) Such a report can point out strengths & opportunities.
(4) The report can point out weaknesses indirectly.
(5) This report can be packaged to drive a main message home.

One Solitary Life Reborn

2011-10-08T22:45:00.001+08:00

Note: The original text was from a sermon by James Allan Francis and found in his book The Real Jesus and Other Sermons published in 1926 by the Judson Press of Philadelphia (anointedlinks.com). 2 reasons I decided to come up with another version: (1) My wife noticed that the original and revised versions, all titled "One Solitary Life," did not mention Christ's Resurrection. In other words, the "account" is incomplete. If Jesus did not rise again from the dead, it means only one thing: We Christians have not been saved! (2) I noticed the man in the original story preached no message for mankind and yet he is now the centerpiece of the human race. If that life had no meaning, it was indeed one sad solitary life!

One Solitary Life Reborn
Modern Version 3.0 by Frank H, 08Oct2011

A child was born in an obscure village,
the child of a peasant woman.
He grew up in another obscure village,
where he worked in a carpenter shop until he was thirty.
Then for three years
he was an itinerant teacher preaching just one word:
Love.

He never owned a home. He never wrote a book.
He never held an office. He never grew a family.
He never went to college.
He never set foot inside a big city.
He never traveled two hundred miles
from the place he was born.
He did none of those things
that usually accompany greatness.

While he was still a young man,
the tide of popular opinion turned against him.
His friends deserted him.
One friend denied him three times.
Another friend turned him over to his enemies,
and he went through the mockery of a trial.
He was made to carry a cross
and then he was nailed between two thieves.
While he was dying, his executioners gambled
for the only piece of property he had - his tunic.
He agonized as his mother watched helplessly.
When he was dead, he was taken down
and laid in a borrowed grave.

Then he came back from the dead and showed that
we are both human and divine as we choose to believe.
Twenty centuries have come and gone,
and today he is the central figure for human progress.

All the armies that ever marched,
all the navies that ever sailed,
all the parliaments that ever sat,
all the marines that ever waded ashore,
and all the kings that ever reigned,
put together
have not affected the life of Man
upon this earth as powerfully as this
one solitary life reborn.

Yelp, Expedia & Nextag don't see. Google is anti-intellectual!

2011-09-23T18:09:00.001+08:00

MANILA - Ian Paul says Yelp, Expedia, and Nextag are complaining - Frank H will call them The YEN Complainers - that "(Google is) burying competitors deep in Google's search engine rankings … in favor of the company's own products" (21 September 2011, pcworld.com). Of course Google favors its own products. Google Chair Eric Schmidt isn't an idiot.

More to the point, if you search for a local business, Google Places results show up with a map, invariably with the Yelp results shown below Google Places (ANN, advisors4advisors.com). Unfair? The US Senate Judiciary Committee is set to hear The YEN Complainers explain how "Google is manipulating search engine results to steer searches to its own Web properties." Of course it is manipulating the search results - how else can Google work?

That Committee will have an easy time determining that what Google is doing is hardly "unfair competition" or "monopolistic practice" even if Google is a virtual monopoly, like Windows is. What they will have a hard time with is understanding the computerese. Can you tell me what do they mean by "false choice" and how do they differentiate "web search results" from "web search index" and why do you say "algorithmic?" While trying to educate the Judiciary Committee, the YEN Complainers are barking up the wrong tree.

What The YEN Complainers should do is examine the Google paradigm. Even granting that it is legitimate, The YEN Complaint is nothing compared to what I know is Google practice, and which I shall call here googledegook:

Google ranks low those keywords or search words that are not already popular and stored in its Google Trends or Google Insights database or wherever.

Google says, "See what the world is searching for" (Google Insights for Search). In other words, if what you're searching for is not what the world is searching for, Google search won't be your Scholar and help you. In which case, when will new knowledge catch up with Google Insights?

For instance, a few minutes ago I went over to Google Insights for Search searching for "creattitudes" compared to "beatitudes" (sans quotes, lower case) and I got what you see on the graph: creattitudes 0, beatitudes 35. In fact, at the lower bottom of the search window, it said, "Not enough search volume to show results." Which means, if you want to show up in Google search results, forget it if it’s something new like creattitudes. It's too new or too unpopular to bother about.

Creattitudes is my invention; the Beatitudes are the inventions of Jesus of Nazareth, the Christ. Creattitudes means creative attitudes leading to Creative Thinking leading to Creative Writing; there are 8, and I based them on the Beatitudes, beautiful attitudes, of which there are 8 of course. I invented the concept "Creattitudes" and published it online almost 6 months ago (in April) and I already have in my dedicated blog 44 posts (many of them as long as 1,000 words plus) (Creattitudes, blogspot.com), but Google can't find it in its genius yet. Because it isn't being searched much yet, Google will say it isn't there. Schmidt isn't an idiot, but isn't Google a moron? Google Insights for Search: idiot 35, moron 12. So, no, Google isn't a moron - it just wants you to follow its insights, to be Google's moron.

Now that you've seen how Google works down the statistics, legally, I will say that no prophet is with honor except in his own country! If you want to be popular in Google, don't initiate - imitate. Use the popular keywords and you will be popular. What bloggers have been learning from Google since Day One is how to cheat to become popular. Don't invent - reinvent. Then you will be ranked high up in the Google list. So, somebody reinvented Google popularity and gave it an intelligent-sounding name - Search Engine Optimization (SEO). SEO is "the process of improving the visibility of a website or a web page in search engines via the … search results" (Wikipedia). In other words, if you apply the principles of SEO in your website, with or without intelligent content, Google will rank your website higher and more searchers will find you.

So? My conclusion is:

Google is the subtle new social anti-intellectual.

If you want to survive and prosper, Google wants you! to think popular; Google wants you! to think only what most of the world is already thinking, not any new thoughts, not any new ideas.

Now then, why can't The YEN Complainers or Yahoo or Bing or somebody else come up with a more intelligent - never mind that it is split-second slower - search than Google? Boys, stop complaining like small boys and grow up!

Now, listen to Richard Skrenta, CEO of Blekko, who says (Amir Efrati & Thomas Catan, 21 September 2011, wsj.com):

We don't need federal intervention to level the playing field with Google. Let's let entrepreneurs, technology and good old-fashioned innovation deal with Google. Consumers will always be the winners in that scenario.
Senior nerd's advice:

Don't get mad - get even by doing even better!

Honestly speaking. "Is your business running your life?" - BCBP

2011-09-11T07:51:00.001+08:00

MANILA - This morning I attended the 1st Anniversary Breakfast of the Brotherhood of Christian Businessmen & Professionals (BCBP) Capitol Hills at the Albergus Restaurant along Capitol Drive in Old Balara, Diliman, Quezon City. Before I left home, my wife was asking me why I should attend the breakfast, and I told her this was a meeting of the BCBP, and did she know that "Honesty" was their slogan? Highly unusual.

Be honest.
Even if others are not.
Even if others will not.
Even if others cannot.

Thoroughly Christian. Thoroughly non-conformist. Jesus Christ was thoroughly non-conformist, wasn't he? He preached Love, didn't he? We might borrow from the BCBP and say Christ preached Love this way, always remembering that Love is a proactive verb, not a reactive noun:

Love.
Even if others do not.
Even if others will not.
Even if others cannot.

Capital Love.

BCBP Capitol Hills is an Outreach of BCBP Quezon City. Today, the BCBP has 56 full Chapters, 8 Chapters-in-Training, and 49 Outreaches all over the Philippines and 2 in California, USA.

The BCBP as a whole is thoroughly a Roman Catholic renewal movement. It is duly and fully recognized by all the dioceses where it operates. Boy Alina as emcee was explaining this morning that they make sure that they obtain the approval of the Bishop first before they try to form a group.

BCBP is registered with Securities and Exchange Commission as a non-stock, non-profit corporation. Since the group is that of businessmen, it operates with a corporate Vision: "Bringing Christ into the marketplace and winning the marketplace for Christ." The Mission is this:

We are a community of business people and professionals committed to living out Christian values and being change agents in the marketplace. We accomplish this through a process of on-going personal conversion, a commitment to professional excellence, community and nation-building, practice of justice and integrity, and responsible care for all entrusted to us.

I was a first-timer. I attended the breakfast as a guest of dear friend Jerry A Quibilan, an Associate Member of the BCBP QC. My attendance was primarily as a journalist to be able to write about this Catholic group that has gone beyond your usual Catholic renewal community that also forms chapters elsewhere in the country. The BCBP's target range is the marketplace, where it hopes to hit bull's-eyes when it comes to Christian business transactions.

This is a group with the unusual pledge of the "practice of justice and integrity, and responsible care for all entrusted to (them)." These businessmen are thinking outside the box of economics and integrating into their systems justice, integrity, and responsible care.

The BCBP also has uncommon Core Values: Love for God, Love for Community, Love of Country, and Commitment to the Lord's Work.

They do have a website: bcbp-phil.com, but I got this from the brochure, about the Brotherhood Breakfast:

The Brotherhood Breakfast is unique to the BCBP. There is no other organization that is known to have instituted a breakfast that has changed the lives of so many businessmen and professionals. The BCBP has the singular distinction of having introduced and sustained the breakfast system to bring the Gospel of Christ so effectively to the marketplace. From this concept of a "Christian Breakfast" evolved a potent renewal organization, the Brotherhood of Christian Businessmen & Professionals.

They sang a lot of songs, and I didn't know any! I'm an old member of the Bukás Loób sa Díyos Covenant Community, a Catholic charismatic group, and they weren't singing any old songs, so I couldn't sing along with them. I was thinking that they shouldn't forget the old.

The sharers in this breakfast were husband and wife Jun & Nancy Saret of BCBP Bulacan. Jun is a Vice President and Chief Innovations Officer of Pascual Laboratories. Jun was saying his family before Nancy had been met with heavy trials in business. Then his brother Jerry suddenly died. Then his mother.

Then they joined the BCBP and their brothers and sisters in Christ multiplied.

They met at Pascual Laboratories. When Jun was courting Nancy, he wrote a love note among those that Nancy remembered to share: "Every time I pray for you, I pray with joy." Philippians 1: 4. Actually, the original reads, "Every time I pray for you all, I pray with joy." Jun was quoting the Bible for love's purpose, there was no problem with that. The problem was that, as Nancy recalled, she was having a hard time telling whether Jun was courting her or just trying to inspire her with Bible quotations!

But love conquers all, including doubts. They have a special child, and the first knowledge of that is one of the most difficult things to accept by a parent. But, "Love assumes the best," Jun & Nancy asked the breakfasters to repeat after them, inspired by 1 Corinthians 13: 7. The earliest source of "Love assumes the best" that Frank H can find of that quotation is J Herbert Hester, pastor of the First Baptist Church of Tullahoma, Tennessee (Fall 2001, uu.edu).

"Nothing," Jun said, "could be compared with the joy when I surrendered my life to God." Frank H knows that if you have not done that yourself, it is the most difficult thing to do because of human pride. But once you've done it, the cloud is lifted from your life and there is a radiance to it, the sun is always shining.

Jun made mention of the 42-hectare organic farm of Pascual Laboratories in Santa Rosa, Nueva Ecija: Leonie Agri Corp, of which he is President. The LAC farm, as it is referred to, does not use farm chemicals. It is certified organic, which is responsible care for all entrusted to it.

But at first, "I was complaining to God," Jun said. Because at the beginning the LAC farm was "lupang isinumpa" (land under a curse) as the locals referred to it, dry and unfertile. The company had labor problems, and it was unprofitable. With Chronicles 31:21, Jun said, "I offered to God those responsibilities… So we relied on God."

Chronicles 31: 21 says, "And every work that he undertook in the service of the house of God, and in accordance with the law and the commandments, to seek his God, he did with all his heart; and he prospered" (New Revised Standard Version). And the LAC farm prospered and continue to prosper as even the optimists could not have imagined.

Then Jun and Nancy asked the breakfasters to repeat after them, "As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord."

Is your business ruining your life? God should be running your house and your business.

A Class in Vocabulary. Arroyo's Delicadeza & De Lima's Dilemma

2011-08-07T14:58:00.001+08:00

MANILA - Sometimes I'm just frank; sometimes I'm just hilarious; sometimes I'm just both - sometimes I'm just accommodating. Just watch!

With her booboo on Mike Arroyo's 31 July 2011 trip to Hong Kong, it's just that Justice Secretary Leila De Lima has exhibited evidence that she is guilty of prejudging the case and, should it go to court, she should be barred from appearing as prosecutor or plaintiff. Justice Denied for Justice Denied.

Mike Arroyo is a high-profile personality, so a low-profile text apology is not enough. I'll be watching - if she resigns, she has delicadeza like Senator Migz Zubiri (see my "His rival demands it; Migz Zubiri resigns. It was not the honorable thing to do; it was." Flipinos, Flips! blogspot.com). That was one male chauvinist proud.

The male of the species has acted honorably. Is it too much to ask for a female of the species, another Government official, to also show delicadeza? (Image from inquirer.net - she should have inquired first, and then inquired some more.)

A legacy from the Spanish conquistadores, "delicadeza," says Leonor Magtolis Briones, has something to do with behavior anchored on generally accepted moral standards" (17 August 2009, abs-cbnnews.com). In the Philippines, she says, delicadeza is "associated with honor." Edgar Millan says delicadeza is "a sense of propriety or how to behave rightly in all circumstances" (06 August 2011, Zambales Forum, angelfire.com). I think both female and male are near but not quite gotten the correct sense of it. In Spanish, delicadeza literally means delicateness, tenderness, subtlety, acuteness of understanding (spanishdict.com). In the world of the Filipino, whose colonial mentality has been brought about by centuries of domination by unholy spirits, what I understand is that delicadeza has something to do with honor but it is not honor itself; it is not about being right or wrong either; rather, it has something to do with how highly acceptably you behave when your or your family's honor is at stake. Go ask resigned Senator Migz Zubiri!

Considering all that, I translate delicadeza as finesse. This is how American Heritage Dictionary defines finesse:

1. refinement and delicacy of performance, execution, or artisanship;
2. skillful, subtle handling of a situation; tactful, diplomatic maneuvering.

Does she have finesse? Now then, let us investigate Justice Secretary Leila De Lima as to her behavior regarding Mike Arroyo's trip to Hong Kong.

According to Nikko Dizon, reporting at 1416 hours Friday, 05 August 2011, De Lima ordered "an investigation into how Mike Arroyo was able to leave the country without any records at the Bureau of Immigration" (inquirer.net). (How? It was easy - he flew.)

According to Sophia M Dedace, reporting at 1725 hours Friday, 05 August 2011, Leila De Lima apologized to Mike Arroyo for "immigration fiasco" (gmanews.tv). (It was not a fiasco - it was a judicial stumble.)

She texted journalists:

Having verified from the BI about an hour ago that indeed, former FG Mike Arroyo went through the Immigration counter, I humbly apologize to him, on behalf of the BI for apparently giving me an erroneous info yesterday and/or for committing certain lapses.

Note the times reported. Now then, it appears that on the same day with a time lag of 2 hours, De Lima ordered the investigation first before verifying the truth or untruth of Mike Arroyo's French leave, his flying to Hong Kong without so much as an "Au revoir." You call that jumping to conclusion. I call it leap of feet.

As far as I can tell, Mike Arroyo did say, "Au revoir" to the BI. Now then, who is without delicadeza: Mike Arroyo or Leila De Lima?

"Earlier in the day," Dedace reported, "De Lima told reporters that Mr Arroyo's departure record could not be found and that the former First Gentleman had someone else facilitate the processing of his Immigration documents." (Mike Arroyo wouldn't have known how to process his own Immigration papers with all the bureaucratic procedures at BI, would he?)

The exact text of De Lima regarding the matter was this (Dizon as cited):

It appears that he did not pass through Immigration. Somebody facilitated the processing of his documents.

Now then, whose behavior is lacking in subtlety: Mike Arroyo or Leila De Lima?

In fact, it was Mike Arroyo's angry lawyer, Inocencio Ferrer Jr, who demanded that De Lima "issue a public apology to Mr Arroyo." Under the law, if there is no demand, there is no delay. Now then, whose behavior is lacking in nicety: Ferrer Jr or De Lima?

Still, De Lima said she wanted to know "the true case for the wrong information" and that "the matter is now under investigation, particularly the Immigration officer who processed FG's documents."

And what is to be done to the government official who previously processed the information without investigating first? But in fact, according to Dizon, "De Lima added she was informed Friday that a 'Juan Miguel Arroyo' appeared on the database but that the last name was spelled with a single 'r.'" Well, perhaps De Lima was behaving with utmost certainty that the BI database doesn't ever entertain any inputs that look like mistakes in spelling? Well then, now I'm sure some people don't know yet that the difference between the Age of the Dinosaurs (I'm referring to those monster typewriters) and the Age of Computers is that now you make mistakes and multiply them faster. De Lima seems motherly proud of the BI database; she should know better. Since the personal computer doesn’t think, the person should.

Here's the fuller statement of De Lima (quoted by Ina Reformina, 04 August 2011, abs-cbnnews.com):

Nakapagtataka, wala s'ya sa BI database. Ang ibig sabihin, hindi dumaan, apparently, sa immigration. Somebody else facilitated the processing of the documents kaya nagkaganoon. (My translation: Strange, he is not in the BI database. That means, he didn't pass, apparently, through Immigration. Somebody else facilitated the processing of (his) documents, that's why.)

Your big mouth can put you in a dilemma.

Well now, De Lima should be able to differentiate delicadeza from dilemma. "Dilemma," says the American Heritage Dictionary, is "a situation that requires a choice between options that are or seem equally unfavorable or mutually exclusive." I take that to mean that it's so much like choosing between the devil and the deep blue sea!

So, class, here's a vocabulary lesson for you if you're interested:
Student: "Teacher, please use dilemma in a sentence."
Teacher: "When she said Mike Arroyo left for Hong Kong without passing through Immigration but she didn't double-check her data first, De Lima put De Lima in a dilemma:
Apologize first, which is an admission of indiscretion?
Investigate after, which is a double admission of indiscretion?"

Elementary, my dear Watson; just because somebody else's name is not in the BI database doesn't mean (a) he did not pass Immigration and/or (b) somebody else facilitated the processing of his papers. Well, I couldn’t really blame De Lima; she was just being critical, logical - except that, of course, male or female, you could be extremely logical and extremely wrong. That's why I'll stick to being creative.

Let's have delicadeza among lawyers who make poor detectives, shall we? If not, I'm inclined to envy the other kind, as there is honor even among thieves.

The Unexamined IQ. Of David Brooks, Shafir & Mullainathan

2011-07-10T20:41:00.001+08:00

MANILA - There is this essay "The Unexamined Society" published in the New York Times issue of 07 July 2011, date as declared, but the unexamined URL says it was published 08 July 2011. Lawyers will figure, but figures don't lie.

I can say that the author of that unexamined entry, David Brooks, is good at induction, I mean, jumping to conclusions. That is a behavior that I must assign to The Unexamined IQ, not the least that of David Brooks and of Eldar Shafir of Princeton and of Sendhil Mullainathan of Harvard. Boys of a feather flock together.

For all its length, Brooks' 805-word essay (including his byline) makes much of the Intelligence Quotient (IQ) test, which belongs in the dustbin of psychological history and the trash can of educational theory. Your intelligence must be questioned if you insist that the IQ test is a good measure of mental capacity, creativity, and common sense.

IQ is a wrong measure of intelligence; the truly intelligent know that. In The Mismeasure of Man, Stephen Jay Gould says (pages 24-25, quoted in comcast.net, in italics):

The argument begins with one of the fallacies, reification, or our tendency to convert abstract concepts into entities (from the Latin res, or thing). We recognize the importance of mentality in our lives and wish to characterize it, in part so that we can make the divisions and distinctions among people that our cultural and political systems dictate. We therefore give the word "intelligence" to this wondrously complex and multifaceted set of human capabilities. This shorthand symbol is then reified and intelligence achieves its dubious status as a unitary thing.

Why, Gould is asking, do you insist on a single measure of a complex phenomenon? Intelligence is not that simple. If it is, I Frank A Hilario will ask you, "So why is it that only 10% of us can think creatively? Why is it that 90% of us can only think critically?" You don't need a year-long study to gather data - if you are in the Philippines, read 100% of the Manila newspapers and you will see what I mean.

Once intelligence becomes an entity, standard procedures of science virtually dictate that a location and physical substrate be sought for it. Since the brain is the seat of mentality, intelligence must reside there.

Since we have concluded that intelligence is measureable by the IQ test, then we argue that the brain is the seat of intelligence.

We now encounter the second fallacy, ranking, or our propensity for ordering complex variation as a gradual ascending scale.

Now therefore, since intelligence is in the brain, if we measure intelligence, we are measuring the mental capacity of the human being and, therefore, we can classify human beings according to their intelligence. We then go ahead and rank people as to their intelligence, from Dumb to Genius.

… The abstraction of intelligence as a single entity, its location within the brain, its quantification as one number for each individual, and the use of these numbers to rank people in a single series of worthiness, invariably to find that oppressed and disadvantaged groups - races, classes, or sexes - are innately inferior and deserve their status.

To explain, let me take the entrance exam - no pun intended - given by the University of the Philippines, the UP College Admission Test (UPCAT). The UPCAT has 4 subtests: Language Proficiency, Science, Mathematics, and Reading Comprehension (up.edu.ph). The UPCAT is administered to all desirous high school graduates from Aparri to Jolo, with varying amounts of data and information in their brains, depending on the quality of education they have received. Since the urban schools are of higher standards than the rural, the UPCAT is stacked for the City Boys against the Ruralites - that's what you call silent but invidious intellectual discrimination.

The UPCAT is an IQ test, plain and simple. It doesn't measure the true intelligence of the high school graduates - it measures only the true intelligence of those who insist on administering it.

If not the IQ Test, how then do we measure human intelligence?
We don't!

Instead, we measure human intelligences, plural. We have been left behind by history. Some 28 years ago, in 1983, Harvard Professor Howard Gardner came up with his myth-shattering Theory of Multiple Intelligences (MI) as he published his book Frames of Mind: Theory of Multiple Intelligences (howardgardner.com). In that book and subsequent other books, Gardner argued for the following 8 multiple intelligences (with my brief description):

(1) linguistic - skill with language
(2) logical-mathematical - skill in analyzing problems
(3) musical - skill with harmonious patterns
(4) bodily-kinesthetic - skill with whole body or parts
(5) spatial - skill with patterns in space
(6) interpersonal - skill in relating with others
(7) intrapersonal - skill in understanding oneself
(8) naturalist - skill in understanding nature.

It's interesting to note that Brooks did notice something in that direction and said, "People are complicated. We each have multiple selves, which emerge or don't depending on context." That's a brilliant deduction. That, in other words, is exactly what Howard Gardner is saying! Language is a context, and so is music, and so is space etcetera. Unfortunately, Brooks didn't pursue his idea any further.

To say the least, "Howard Gardner's work around multiple intelligences has had a profound impact on thinking and practice in education - especially in the United States" (Mark K Smith, 2008, infed.org). Since Shafir & Mullainathan ignored Gardner, it only goes to show that some scientists cannot be trusted in a science other than their own.

As it turns out, it's a Harvard Professor versus a Harvard Professor. I'd deny my limited IQ and instead enjoy all my multiple intelligences.

The IQ is The Unexamined Lie. What the IQ test measures, if you insist, are only the first 2 of 8 intelligences: linguistic (in the UPCAT, Language Proficiency and Reading Comprehension), and logical-mathematical (Science, Mathematics).

But, if Brooks, Shafir & Mullainathan insist on the measure of IQ, I'll measure theirs like this, based on Gardner's MI; I shall be very generous and assign from a maximum of 100 pt:

07 pt for linguistic intelligence (max 12.5 pt) - since their background research is insufficient, their premises are imperfect.

07 pt for logical-mathematical intelligence (max 12.5 pt) - since their assumptions are short, their arguments are shot.

75 pt for the rest of the intelligences (max 75 pt), even if they don't think they have those.

So, their IQ is all 89 pt out of a max 100 pt. Not Dumb; it's High Intelligence actually - but certainly not at the level of Genius.

Manila Digital Divide. Is Aquino afraid of ICT, or his Boys?

2011-07-09T07:18:00.001+08:00

MANILA - In the digital world, a Downgrade is an abomination, while an Upgrade is in fact an affirmation. With Philippine ICT, Senator Edgardo Angara wants an Upgrade; President Noynoy Aquino orders a Downgrade, so now we have The Manila Digital Divide - if you're not with IT, you're against IT.

On 30 June 2011, Aquino issued Executive Order 47, which abolished the Commission on Information and Communications Technology (CICT) under the Office of the President, and created instead a lower-level Information and Communications Technology Office (ICTO) and put it under the Department of Science and Technology (DoST). So I know Noynoy Aquino knows How to exercise his executive fiat - I don't know Why.

When it comes to power, let me put it this way:
A Commission has influence; an Office is under the influence.

The President has influence; was this decision under the influence? Where did the President's decision come from: cyberspace or outer space?

So, Noynoy Aquino deleted the ICT Commission under the Malacañang folder and cut-and-pasted the ICT Office under the DoST folder. That goes to show that this President knows how to close Windows. I mean, he closed the Windows marked ICT Commission and opened the Door marked ICT Office. Look: Windows of Opportunity vs Door of Restraint. We Christians know, "When God closes a door, He opens a window." Was Noynoy Aquino trying to prove he knows better?

I could be wrong, but Senator Edgardo Angara and the National ICT Confederation of the Philippines (NICP) have come out with the position that what Noynoy has done is neither divine nor knowledgeable.

Me, I'm looking at fuzzy logic: You throw the fuzz and declare the logic. Aquino's decision to downgrade was made public on the very day after the ICT Commission launched The Philippine Digital Strategy 2011-2016. The ICT roadmap was launched 29 June 2011, Wednesday by the ICT Commission; Aquino's EO 47 abolishing the Commission was issued 30 June 2011. Is Malacañang Palace Pinoy's Theatre of the Absurd?

Remember, the Commission was under the Office of the President - to downgrade the Commission right after that monumental announcement by the Commission is more than just deleting a website the day after its existence was announced to the world with much fanfare - it was digital suicide. After 24 hours of exposure in the knowledge universe, you sent your own website, folders and all, to the Recycle Bin?!

Now, since I don't think it was deleted permanently, I am in sympathy with the plea of Edgardo Angara and the gesture of the NICP to move Noynoy Aquino to Undelete the ICT Commission and Undo the ICT Office. Undelete is easy: Press Windows, right click Recycle Bin, click Open; right click icon, click Restore; done!

Could it be that Aquino was merely trying to un-make history? Remember, the ICT Commission was created on 12 January 2004 by President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo via EO 269, "to be the government’s primary policy-making and implementing arm in the promotion and development of ICT systems" (TJ Burgonio, 07 July 2011, inquirer.net). Everybody knows there is no love lost between GMA and Noynoy Aquino. Even so, I don't think the downgrade was to spite GMA; instead, I believe it was a system failure - it happened because the Office of the President was not paying attention to itself!

I see this imbroglio as a failure of the Boys of Aquino in Knowledge Management, the new KM. They should have known better. I know now that they are not as avant-garde as they should be. They are now a legend in being behind their own times.

Now then, if not Undelete now, Noynoy Aquino can Autosave the Office of the President by pursuing the creation of the Department of Information and Communications Technology (DICT).

On 06 June 2011, Angara called on Aquino to be a hero and champion the creation of an ICT Department (edangara.com). The Senator called on the President to back up the proposal to upgrade the Commission to a Department. What happened at the end of the month shows that the ICT Boys of Noynoy Aquino face a steep learning curve.

If those ICT Boys don't know much about the role of information and communications technologies in getting a Third World country like the Philippines to a First World status, what have they been doing with their office-issue Internet-ready laptops?

If those ICT Boys don't appreciate what Angara is saying that the ICT Department "will play a central role in ensuring that the country's business process outsourcing (BPO) industry will continue to expand and generate employment," have they just been emailing their friends?

If those ICT Boys don't know that the Philippines, Myanmar and Timor-Leste are the only countries left with no ICT Departments of their own, have they just been tweeting away their Internet time?

If those ICT Boys don't know that the BPO industry in the Philippines can surpass the remittances from the overseas Filipinos within 5 years, have they just been socializing via Facebook?

If those ICT Boys don't know that the BPO sector is currently worth US $9 billion and employs about half a million Filipinos, with the potential to grow to $25 billion by 2016 employing 1.3 million, have they just been blogging away their insecurities?

If those ICT Boys didn't know that the country has just celebrated the National ICT Month in June ending with the release of the Philippine Digital Strategy under the leadership of the ICT Commission, have they just been monitoring the status of the President by watching him on YouTube?

If those ICT Boys think of ICT as only so much Facebook and Twitter, IBM and Dell, Nokia and Blackberry, what have they been doing in Internet forums?

It those ICT Boys don't think of ICT as the new KM and that with its revolutionary spirit, the Filipino can excel in the world, including in his own country, have they just been mousing around?

If those ICT Boys can't see macro-economics in micro-processors, have they just been Internet-marketing their good ideas that have nothing to do with better ICT for the best of the country?

If those ICT Boys don't accept that the Philippine Digital Strategy envisions Filipinos as "creators - building on and improving existing technology and producing digital content that improves personal productivity and contributes to the national economy," have they just been reading with their lips and thinking with their eyes?

If those ICT Boys can't think of the value of an ICT Department, do I take it to mean that, like the character Capitan Tiago in Jose Rizal's incendiary fiction-nonfiction Noli Me Tangere published more than 100 years ago, they are not afraid of ideas, except if these are new or bold?

Boys, if you're not with US, you're against US!

Catholic & pro-RH? I'm for condoms, contras, IUD, the injectable

2011-06-13T22:01:00.001+08:00

MANILA - I'm a Roman Catholic; I didn't want to, but now I'm thinking of safe sex. You see, I have just read one, on my email the position paper of the very Catholic Bukás Loób sa Díyos Covenant Community on House Bill 96 (old number), and two, on his website very un-Catholic Representative Edcel Lagman's sponsorship speech of House Bill 4244 (new ardor, same banana). And I can tell you that I'm in favor of that hard-earned banana.

In 1,507 words, the BLD people express their strong objection to the passage of the RH Bill into Law; you can email me for a pdf copy if you wish: frankahilario@gmail.com. They are intelligent people; they don't need me to explain their side.

In Rep Lagman's case, I have read and understood his published position on the matter, all of 2,048 words, and now I'm wishing so many of his wishes; here's a list of items not necessarily in the order of importance:

use of condom during the sexual act
sex education starting at Grade 5
safeguarding the future of Filipino women
helping parents plan their family
freedom of informed choice
sustainable human development
access to all forms of family planning
improving maternal & child health & nutrition
reducing maternal & child mortality
preventing high-risk pregnancies
effective contraception
spacing of pregnancies
lowering incidence of abortion
spreading the gospel of breastfeeding
preventing spread of sexually transmittable infections
eliminating violence against women
male taking responsibility in reproductive health
the use of pills, IUDs, and injectables.

That makes me pro-RH Bill, doesn't it? Yes, I'm all for the passage of it.

The use of the condom is good advice for pro-RH male prigs, not only the male chauvinists. I say, the male advocates of the RH Bill and their masculine supporters should be wearing condoms anywhere because, you know, the urge to make love can come anytime and, by golly, I would like them to feel they are having safe sex!

Sex education should be part of the curriculum starting at Grade 5 because, otherwise, as Rep Lagman says, the youth often get information from polluted sources and from their peer who may not have the correct information about sex. Since we have to give the benefit of the doubt that the advocates of the RH Bill are sincere people and they believe they are right, an RH Law should provide that sex education be required for children of pro-RH parents, to give substance to that parental belief, but only optional for children of anti-RH parents who believe that the pro-RH parents are wrong. Fair enough?

Starting with the extended family of Rep Lagman, an RH Law should mandate a nationwide grouping of Filipino women so that they can attend classes and understand how an RH Law safeguards their future. I studied to be a teacher, but I don't understand and therefore I cannot teach how an RH Law will work in safeguarding any future, yet it is the right of those women to be educated, right? Let the educating then be the problem of the educator, not the sponsors of the RH Bill.

I think that for the pro-RH Billers to convince the anti-RH Billers, a critical mass of parents should now be trained, funded by RH House advocates from their CDFs, to explain to people like me, a journalist who doesn't understand how an RH Law would help parents exercise their right to plan their family. As a father, unfortunately, it's too late for me anyway. Many years ago, when I told my Peace Corps friend that my wife and I already had 6 children, he asked me, "Why, you never heard of family planning?" I replied, instantly, "Of course I have. As a matter of fact, I plan to have 12!" And it came to pass. My reply proves that I am a wit; my history proves that I am a good family planner.

I informed him of my choice, didn't I? I do believe in freedom of informed choice. So, an RH Law should provide that the children of pro-RH parents be informed of their choices by Government officials, half of whom unfortunately don't communicate much, while I can exercise my right of informed choice and inform my grandchildren why they should not attend such sex education classes.

Of course, I believe in sustainable human development, and if Rep Lagman and his boys (and girls) believe that an RH Law will result in sustainable development; if family planning is all we need to go from Point A to Point B, then we will be saving billions of pesos because with an RH Law, we would then have no need of the National Economic Development Authority or the Department of Interior & Local Government, or even the University of the Philippines, the bastion of elite economists. With an RH Law, the UP economists can go jump in the lake!

By all means, let the families of the pro-RH Bill have access to all forms of family planning so that they can have peace. I am assuming that they understand what it is to be family, and that they know peace.

If they believe that an RH Law they so crave will improve maternal & child health & nutrition, let the pros convince the antis how a law mandating the use of condoms, contraceptives, IUDs and injectables can improve the health of anyone. That is faith. Now then, let them show by example; let's have the families of the pros under a massive 5-year study with monitoring & evaluation done by international health and wellness experts. Otherwise, they know that faith without works is dead.

Perhaps, the RH Bill should have a provision that in Year 1 upon passage of the law, volunteers from the families of the pros be made the subject of a nationwide study to show that an RH Law would actually reduce maternal & child mortality compared to a control group of families belonging to the antis. After which, the antis shouldn't be hard to convince about the error of their ways.

Even so, I'm surprised that our modern doctors cannot prevent high-risk pregnancies by themselves, that they need the power of an RH Law to perform their duties. Where did they all study anyway?

It is claimed that an RH Law would lower the incidence of abortion. I don't understand why, with safe sex, there would be need for abortion at all. I would imagine that there would be hardly any babies made in the first place, so that to abort those babies would give us zero population growth. If overpopulation is the cause of poverty, then with zero population growth, we would all be rich, right? Yeah, but I don't wanna be rich and lonely.

I understand the implementation of an RH Law would be in favor of breastfeeding. I'm thinking of the effects of contraceptives on the female body. Don't they adversely affect, among other things, lactation? Again, I could be wrong. So, let experiments be conducted on female volunteers from pro-RH families according to the provisions of an RH Law, and then if positive results are obtained from a double-blind study of 1% of the total female population, with very highly significant differences between Control and Study populations, then those who belong to the 90% would be convinced that an RH Law would be good for breastfeeding.

Will an RH Law prevent the spread of sexually transmittable infections like HIV-AIDS? I hope so, because as they say, an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. Except that I know that not having sex with someone with HIV-AIDS is the best prevention of all. It also costs zero, zilch, nothing, nada.

In the matter of an RH Law ensuring that the men will take responsibility in reproductive health, I wish the pro-RH people luck - I know the males are hard-headed!

Finally, I don't understand how an RH Law will eliminate violence against women. I can assure you, without fear of contradiction, based on my experience of 44 years of legally married life, with no extra-marital affairs, that making love without a condom, without an IUD, without a contraceptive pill, without an injectable, is most certainly not violence to the woman - it is ecstasy!

Americans? Don’t be funny. Don't Do It!

2011-05-14T06:17:00.001+08:00

MANILA - The Americans are very funny - even when they don’t want to be. Yes, it was laugh at first sight. You know the feeling, don’t you? I was laughing hard the very first time I read the news by Kathryn Kattalia of the New York Daily News with this headline: "Early HIV treatment could prevent transmission between partners, study shows" (13 May 2011, nydailynews.com). Funny they should Could when they could Would. What’s that again please: a treatment that Could? I know of a treatment that Would; let me whisper it: It’s called Silent Treatment. Don't Do It!

More quotes: This is "a study that followed more than 1,700 couples around the world" - that would be called stalking around the world, wouldn't it? Don't Do It!

"HIV patients who began taking antiretroviral drugs right after being diagnosed had a 96.3% reduction rate of transmitting the virus compared to those who delayed treatment" - you mean they had sex right after being diagnosed with HIV? Don't Do It!

And "96.3% reduction rate of transmitting the virus" is not good enough - only 100% reduction rate is good enough. It's all very simple; if you want 100% reduction rate, here’s my advice, the only one that’s good enough: Don't Do It!

"The study, which started in 2005 ..." It took them 6 years to learn what not to do? I could have told them in 6 seconds flat - Don't Do It!

"The study ... looked at 1,763 heterosexual couples ..." - that would be invasion of privacy, wouldn't it? Don't Do It!

"The study ... looked at 1,763 heterosexual couples from 13 cities ..." And the report was made on 13 May - all this is a warning to be careful with the number 13, isn't it? Don't Do It!

“The study, funded by the National Institutes of Health …” My advice to the NIH: Don't Do It!

“The study … was scheduled to end in 2015 …” My advice to the NIH is not to wait that long: Don't Do It!

"The study ... looked at 1,763 heterosexual couples from ... Botswana, Brazil, India, Kenya, Malawi, South Africa, Thailand, the United States and Zimbabwe ..." That's invaluable tourist information, isn't it? Warning to tourists, if you want to call it that. I call it Revelation. If you travel and want to avoid HIV, now you know in which countries you can find HIV! Don't Do It!

By the way, I live in the Philippines, not included in the study because it is a beautiful country with beautiful people who welcome tourists with a warmth, not a warning. This is a standing invitation. Please don’t just say, “I’m coming, I’m coming!” Just Do It!

May is month of Mary. Mother of Jesus, Model of Mothers

2011-05-14T05:10:00.001+08:00

MANILA - In the US of A, the month of May is significant in that it is Older Americans Month, and I have written about it to help senior citizens celebrate (see my "US, Unhappy Seniors!? Citizens & The Real Generation Gap," Age of Discovery! blogspot.com). I even suggested an Older Filipinos Month.

After that, Neneng, a long-distance friend and mother, made me realize that May is more important than just being for exalting Mothers on the 8th, than just bringing honor to the older adults by recognizing their achievements as well as their health needs for all of 31 days. "Please write about mothers," she said. What could I say? I was not a Marian as the National Hero Jose Rizal was (see my "Charice dreams. Knights of Rizal Pablo Trillana III believes, I act?" Creattitudes, blogspot.com). Was there anything new to say about an old topic? Then I thought about Mary as Mother.

For sure, in the Philippines, when we think of May, we think of the Flowers of May, Flores de Mayo, and associate these with Mary the Virgin Mother. Indeed, one of the many titles of the Virgin Mary is "Model of Mothers." Now then, more than the 8th of May as Mother's Day, more than all senior citizens combined, the whole of May is the Merry Month of Mary, Mother of Jesus the Christ, who suffered under Pontius Pilate and was crucified because he would not worship or bow to the Roman gods. Mary the Mother suffered when Jesus the Son suffered; she suffered even more when he was nailed on the cross and left to die there, slowly - and she was watching, helplessly.

We are just beginning to look at Mother Mary as the Model of Mothers.

When the angel Gabriel told the Virgin Mary she was going to conceive and give birth to a son, her faith in God was being tested. The whole story is told in Luke 1: 26-45 (NRSV Catholic Edition). "How can this be, since I am a virgin?" And the angel told her in no uncertain terms: "The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore, the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God." Which was okay, really, but this was a stranger telling a young girl that according to the will of God she was going to bear a child without as much as even a hint of a love affair, and she and the messenger had just met! This was a woman being told she was going to conceive in her womb a son without the need of a man. Not humanly possible. Yet Mary said, "Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word." Here I am Lord, seed me!

If you were the young girl, what would you have done? What would you have said? You probably would have thought, what's his name again? Gabriel was crazy, insane, a megalomaniac. Not Mary. Mary was already a model even before she was a mother.

At this point, I have this insight: If Mary were a Filipino and she lived in one of the slums of Metro Manila, today her poverty-conscious President Noynoy Aquino along with the gentlemen who believe in him, knowing that she is betrothed to Joseph and marriage is in her mind, and thinking that the Filipinos are multiplying too fast for the economy to catch up, and that he would approve of 2 becoming 1 but not 2 becoming 11, would tell her, "Go forth and do not multiply!" For more on the Multiplication Fable, also known as the Malthusian Theory, see my "Noynoy's RH Bill. Couples for Christ & Frank's Parable of the Talents," 25 March 2011, American Chronicle. Fable, I said - you know, where the animals speak as if they were people! In response, what would have Mary said? "Be it done unto me according to the Lord." God bless your Mary, gentlemen!

The willing student and would-be Mother was being instructed as well as informed by God:

And you will name him Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.

Mary had no way of knowing whether what the angel told her was true. She could have chosen to not believe, but she chose to believe. Blessed are those that have not seen and yet have believed!

Accepting the word of the angel as gospel truth, nevertheless Mary was disturbed. She had to talk to someone, confide in her what news the angel had brought to her. She visited her relative Elizabeth in a hilly town of Judea. When Mary greeted Elizabeth who herself was pregnant by God's grace, the child in her womb leaped for joy. At that point, the Holy Spirit filled Elizabeth and she exclaimed, "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb." A lesson for mothers: Each mother should feel blessed with each fruit of her womb.

If Mary was an unexpectant mother, so was Elizabeth. She and her husband Zechariah, a priest, had been childless for years, as she was barren. Nevertheless, they had been praying for a child. When the angel appeared to Zechariah, "he was terrified; and fear overwhelmed him" (Luke 1: 12). He lost the power of speech. Zechariah's faith was like Joseph's - reluctant. Elizabeth's faith was like Mary's: accepting. Elizabeth was old and barren but, at least in this instance, there was a male parent to unite with a female parent!

We now have 2 role models for a mother. Mary, young, innocent, with her full trust in God. Elizabeth, old, barren, with her whole faith in the Lord. God helps all mothers who have faith in God and in themselves.

When Elizabeth's son was going to be baptized, the neighbors and relatives wanted the child named after his father, but she said no, he was going to be called John. Although infirmed, Zechariah confirmed the choice of name by writing it out. Mother knows better.

A decree from Emperor Augustus came, requiring everyone to be registered in the town proper. It was the time when Quirinius was Governor of Syria. In obedience to the decree, Joseph, to whom the Virgin Mary was betrothed, and who had accepted the fact that his wife's pregnancy did not originate from him, brought his beloved with him. She did not object, even if she knew she was expecting a child anytime now. She had faith that Joseph would take good care of her in her condition. And yes, it happened that she gave birth to her firstborn, a boy, and they wrapped him in swaddling clothes, "and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn" (Luke 2: 1-7).

The Virgin Mary, now a mother, what could she have been thinking as she looked down at her newborn son lying in that lowly manger - that the rich were getting richer and the poor were getting poorer? No, she was thinking about the bright future of this boy. Didn't the angel tell her?

Mothers always want the best for their children, don't they? He will be great. He will inherit the throne of his ancestor David. He will be king forever. She had no way of knowing that there was a price to pay, and what a terrible price! It is good that mothers don't know sometimes.

An angel appeared to some shepherds and told them of the good news (Luke 2: 8-14): "To you is born this day in the City of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord." If they visited, they would see a child wrapped in cloth and lying in a manger. Believing what they had heard, the shepherds did what they had been told. And they told Mary what the angel had told them. And "Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart" as before (Luke 1: 19). She must have been thinking: "What does that mean, 'Savior?' What does that mean, 'Messiah?'" She knew soldiers of the Roman Army were there, everywhere, and so were the spies - enemies of the people. Was her son going to deliver them from their iniquities?

When the time came, according to the law of Moses, Joseph and Mary brought him to Jerusalem "to present him to the Lord" and offered as sacrifice a pair of young pigeons (Luke 2: 22-24). There was nothing to it; this was customary for a firstborn male. The rest of the story is told in Luke 2: 25-52 as follows:

At that time, there was a man in Jerusalem named Simeon, who was "righteous and devout" and to whom the Holy Spirit had revealed that before he dies, he would see for himself the Lord's Messiah. And so, guided by the Spirit, when Joseph and Mary brought Jesus into the temple and Simeon saw the boy, he took the child in his arms and praised God, for "a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel."

Simeon knew in his heart who the child was going to be. Joseph and Mary didn't know what to say about what Simeon was telling them about their son Jesus. Simeon blessed them and then told Mary:

This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed - and a sword will pierce your own soul too.

The heart of Israel will be pierced with a sword, and so will the heart of Mary! The Bible does not tell us how Mary took this prophecy, but it must have hit her hard, very hard. Who is the mother who would allow her child to be sacrificed for the sake of the lords of society?

After that, every year when Joseph and Mary went for the festival of the Passover, they brought Jesus along with them. When he was 12, they went as usual to the festival; when they were returning home, they discovered that Jesus was not with them. When they could not find him among their relatives and friends, they went back to Jerusalem and found Jesus in the temple, "sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions." Unlike Pontius Pilate, here was a boy who asked questions - and stayed for the answers.

Mother Mary wasn't amused. They had been searching for Jesus for 3 days, and who is the mother who wouldn't be worried? The boy had not told anyone about his intentions to stay. Boys will always be boys!

Mary: "Child, why have you treated us like this? Look, your father and I have been searching for you in great anxiety."
Jesus: "Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father's house?"

Of course they didn't know what he was talking about! He might as well have been talking Greek to them. Yet, while Mary didn't know, she understood. As an obedient child, Jesus returned with his father and mother to Nazareth, and never again showed any disobedience. And Mary? The good mother that she was, she kept all those things and pondered them in her heart.

"And Jesus increased in wisdom and in years, and in divine and human favor." Mothers are the first teachers of their children, so it must have been Mother Mary who taught Jesus what she knew - even including what he knew but Mary didn't know he knew. Jesus couldn't tell Mother Mary everything he knew, could he?

Then there was this wedding at Cana in Galilee, where Jesus and his disciples were invited, and so was Mother Mary; the story is in John 2: 1-12. When they ran out of wine, Mary said to Jesus, "They have no wine." And Jesus said to Mother Mary, "Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come." Not minding what Jesus said, Mary told the servants, "Do whatever he tells you." You know the rest of the story: The water turned to wine. The son obeyed the mother anyway. Son knows more; Mother knows better! What kind of a son who refuses his mother's request?

Mother Mary was there at the crucifixion; the story is told in John 19: 25-27. Together with her near the cross where the soldiers had hanged Jesus waiting for the inevitable was John, the author of the gospel, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. Jesus said to Mother Mary, "Woman, here is your son." And he said to John, "Here is your mother." After Jesus died and was buried, Mother Mary went to John's home. The mother obeyed the son anyway. Mother knows more; Son knows best! What kind of a Mother who refuses his son's last request? She knew in her heart it was the right thing to do.

My question now is: Why is it that Mary the Mother of Jesus was called blessed and yet she suffered much? My answer is: I don't know. What I know is that, with Mary as their Model, just as Mary was, mothers will be given much blessings and much suffering. Like Mother Mary, mothers must accept both and treasure them and ponder them in their hearts. And blessed are the fathers who accept this - and woe unto them who do not!

ELISA at ICRISAT? That’s "Economics with a human face!"

2011-05-11T17:53:00.001+08:00

PATANCHERU - Ever alert for the application of "Science with a human face" - the very idea which it so happens this photo beautifully shows - from India, the International Crops Research Institute for the Semi-Arid Tropics (ICRISAT) noted that on 4-6 May 2011 was held the World Economic Forum on Africa 2011 with the theme, "From Vision to Action, Africa's Next Chapter" (weforum.org). Then in the same online advanced story, ICRISAT made a fundamental observation (ANN, author not named, icrisat.org):

The rich and powerful gather in South Africa this month to consider ways to "craft innovative partnerships between business and civil society." Yet there is little mention of agriculture on their agenda, despite over 60 percent of Africans working in the farming sector.

We are talking of delegates from many countries attending the World Economic Forum in Cape Town, South Africa; in those early days of this month, they came, they said, they concurred. No, there was no mention of agriculture, not even in the Home page of their website (weforum.org). While the economists were of one mind concerning innovative partnerships, they were not of one mind concerning innovative partnerships with farmers.

Where's the New Economics there? I'm a teacher by profession, a writer by confession. But Economics is not really a foreign language to me, for at least 4 reasons. One, English is not really a foreign language to me - in the Philippines, English was the medium of instruction when I was in Grade School (mid-1940s), high school (1950s) and college (1960s). Two, I graduated in 1965 from the University of the Philippines Los Baños at the time when you had to pass Economics 1 and 2 if you wanted to pass your course, any course. Three, I'm an eclectic, voracious reader; I read even the fish wrapper from the market. Four, in the early 1960s, I read and reread, avidly, the textbook at that time, American economist Paul Samuelson's new, improved Introduction to Economics, because it was immensely readable; it was, if I may say so, Economics at your fingertips.

Becoming immensely popular all over the world, with his books Paul Samuelson became the "Father of Modern Economics" (independent.co.uk); he won the Nobel Prize for Economics in 1970. He died 13 December 2009 at 94, but the ghost of Samuelson haunts world economics to this date. His popular economics was Keynesian, that is to say, all business and government; agriculture is there, somewhere, but you'll have to look hard for it - good luck!

So, if I know the economists, except the geniuses, their heads are above the clouds, and can see neither the forest nor the trees, much less the rice and corn fields at their feet. So, I'm not surprised that those who discussed the economics of development of South Africa ignored the grammar of agriculture - which means they couldn't construct a good sentence using the word development.

The economic thinkers of the WEF forgot the farmers and farm workers in their deliberations. The WEF's own website states (weforum.org):

The World Economic Forum is an independent international organization committed to improving the state of the world by engaging business, political, academic and other leaders of society to shape global, regional and industry agendas.

Can't find agriculture there. As it looks, the WEF is out there to improve the state of the world using the old-fashioned paradigm of Leaders know best, especially the articulate ones. Now then, either these business, political, academic and other leaders of society don't understand agriculture, or they relegate it to a minor role in development, or ignore it altogether, so it's no wonder you can't find agriculture in their agenda.

Another way of looking at it is this: Economics is the Policy of Scarcity, while Agriculture is the Policy of Abundance. Two people are talking. Economist: "We have scarce resources." Agriculturist: "Go and multiply!" Then they go their separate ways.

Borrowing from ICRISAT, what we are looking for is "Economics with a human face."

If we have problems of development today, it is not that the developed countries have too much technology and the developing countries too little - that can be taken care of by technology transfer. But the problem is that we have too many economists and too few agriculturists. Another way of putting that is this: The economists have too much leadership and the agriculturists have too much followership. This is economics leading the charge and agriculture paying the price.

Today as well as yesterday, we have 2 problems with agriculture, and they both involve economics actually:

One, the problem with agriculture is economics:
What the farmer produces, the middleman takes away.

The farmer grows the crop and harvests the grains. The middleman moves in via the farm gate, buys the grains at a price that he dictates, and moves out, profits at his fingertips.

Now then, in the case of chickpea grown by eastern African farmers, what ICRISAT has done is ally with an array of national partners and farmer organizations using a market-driven strategy (Annual Report 2004: Sowing the Seeds of Success, page 18). The partners sow the 1st-generation seeds (F1). The next-generation (F2) seeds are handed over to farmer organizations called Producer Marketing Groups (PMGs). Each PMG selects farmers who multiply them and sell the 3rd-generation (F3) seeds to the PMG. The PMG then sells the F3 seeds to traders in regional and international markets. The PMG is a system of commercialization by farmers of their own produce. Traditionally, it is the middleman who knocks at the farm gate; today, the middleman is the farmer himself; that is, the produce waits for no middleman but goes straight to the market, through the PMG.

That is to say: Farmers produce. Farmers handle. Farmers market. The PMG is non-racial, non-denominational, non-geographical: African or Asian, believer or heretic, farmers benefit in each link of the market chain. The PMG is the way to go today; this is the Real Farm-To-Market Road; it's more than physical, it's more than economics in theory - it's economics in practice. It's economics for everyone, including those who can't define economics to save their lives.

Again, borrowing from ICRISAT, the PMG is "Economics with a human face."

Out of Africa, out of the PMG experience, among other things, ICRISAT has come up with a strategy that it calls the IMOD: Inclusive, Market-Oriented Development. (See my series of IMOD essays beginning with "An African Revolution. IMOD Power to the Women!" 22 September 2010, iCRiSAT Watch, blogspot.com). The IMOD is the Big Picture; it is "Development with a human face."

Two, the problem with agriculture is government:
What the farmer produces, the government takes away.

Since governments have imposed increasingly strict food safety standards without considering costs of crop production, small farmers have been thrown out of the marketplace simply because quality testing is out of their reach, if you will pardon the mixed metaphor. Where government has ignored this problem of small farmers, it is government ignoring economics ignoring agriculture.

Now then, in the case of farmers in India, what ICRISAT has done is conduct research on how to control the aflatoxin content of peanut and other crops, including ginger, black pepper, turmeric and coriander (ICRISAT Annual Report 2002: Research for Impact, pages 7-8). The word aflatoxin is derived from the first letters of the common mold called botanically Aspergillus flavus (afla) that produces the poison (toxin). Long-term intake of low levels of aflatoxins results in aflatoxicosis, which has been reported from Taiwan, Uganda, India (ansci.cornell.edu). People don't want poison in their food. To detect aflatoxins in farm products before distribution and prevent consumer dis-ease as well as expensive recalls, collaborative R&D work by ICRISAT and the Scottish Crop Research Institute has generated a tool kit called the ELISA, the name describing the process in technical terms: enzyme-linked immunosorbent assay (August 2009, SASA, icrisat.org). Never mind the jargon; the photo above shows that the ELISA kit enables a technician to simply screen for the toxin in a peanut cake bought from a local farmer. Where aflatoxin analysis used to cost $3 via thin layer chromatography (TLC), with ELISA it now costs only $1. TLC is not only more expensive; it is also more time-consuming. And yes, the mountain doesn't have to go to Mohammed anymore - the ELISA technician can always visit any mountain-high pile of farm produce. With ELISA, smaller is more beautiful.

Because it is much simpler, ELISA is "Science with a human face." Also,
because it is much cheaper, ELISA is "Economics with a human face."

Thinking out all of the above, it occurs to me that I can translate "With a human face" into a modern, popular catchword of computer nerds: "User-friendly." African and Asian farmers are users of science and appliers of economics, so these must be friendly to them. I can see that ELISA is hardware and software with a human face (check out photo again). Having said that, I notice that, inadvertently, ICRISAT has shown the way the Information Highway should travel:

"Software with a human face."
"Hardware with a human face."

And the economists of this world? They should learn from ICRISAT and come up with their own models of "Economics with a human face." Easily comprehensible, Paul Samuelson's Nobel-Prize Economics was reader-friendly; Modern Global Economics must be shown to be user-friendly.

The Boy Who Broke His Own Heart

2011-04-08T15:04:00.006+08:00

First published in ‘My Reuter Almanac’ 18 March 2007(wordpress.com/). Revised 11 May 2011

18 March 2007 – The pastoral text / cellphone SMS of Fr Reuter is this: In agony, our Lord looked up at the silent sky and said: ‘My God, my God, why has thou forsaken me?’ When you feel abandoned, remember Our Lord was lonely, too.

There was this image 'There Is No Greater Agony' by Mazelle, flickr.com/) that said to me: “Embrace me, she begs. I have encountered forsaken, I have experienced abandoned, I have known lonely.

So have I.

Fr James B Reuter, SJ: Your message has become a private revelation to me; thanks! A new lesson for old me. I am The Boy Who Broke His Own Heart.

Mazelle’s photo I fell in love with the moment I saw it, because the image struck in me a tortured chord (metaphorically speaking), the truth I see in that long caption: ‘There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.’ This is a photograph that is also a painting, where the content is not found in the scene but in the impact – because it’s incomplete with details, you have to complete it in your mind. My story is about completing.

(After all these years, I have decided not to publish in my blog Mazelle’s Flickr image and come out with my own image. My shot is that of my own eyeglasses with the frame broken. I do have an alternate pair, but the broken pair is the one I love the more. The story is the same, right? It’s about completing!)

With this story of my life, I bear witness to that, my own agony arising from a failure to believe in others – that is, to share in trust; and a failure to believe in God – that is, to share in total confidence and to abide completely in hope. Mazelle’s image brings me back to those bug-eyed, blemished years that I bid farewell to when finally I was able to give up my reason and submitted to faith. A long day’s journey into right.

In this my journey of a thousand miles, you will see that I lost my way – in fact, I almost lost me.

‘When you feel abandoned, remember Our Lord was lonely, too.’ I’m 67 and counting (my blessings), and that thought never occurred to me in my many lonely years, in all those discouraging decades (3 of them) after I was kicked out of the University of the Philippines (UP) in the early 1960s – labeled Extreme Delinquent for a semester’s string of grades for 5 subjects (don’t ask) that went this way: 5, 5, 5, 4, 4, where 5 was Failed, 4 was Conditional. I had failed hard, too hard. I had fallen in love hard, too hard. I was so busy attending to my heart I didn’t have time attending to my studies.

Not long after that I broke my own heart – I broke up with my sweetheart, my first love – the girl who had a boyfriend who had been Extremed (that would be me) – saying goodbye to all that when I felt I a poor Ilocano was being discriminated against by the Tagalogs, the son of a tiller of the soil from Central Luzon, Philippines. I made my affair of hearts also an affair of tribes, and the tribes had always been ill-at-ease with each other. Adding salt to injury, to be Extremed at that time was to be shoved to the fire and brimstone. You became the talk of the (small) town. When bad things happen, you notice they come in twos. When good things happen, you notice they come in only singly, or once in a blue moon. When the discrimination hit me in full face in the midst of dancing during a fiesta celebration one late May – I was insulted, no matter how subtly – I saw red; my face felt so hot I had to splash my face with ice-cold water a few times. I did not realize it then, but that was the beginning of a slow burn, and the log was me.

I didn’t know my mind was having problems with me until one morning I woke up blabbing about something that disturbed the neighborhood in the farming village of Sanchez in the sleepy town of Asingan in Pangasinan. I was blabbering that my brother Emilio was either dead or dying. I was so sure of it. He was abroad then and death was his farthest thought (he’s very much alive today, living in Sanchez in a new nice house with his new wife, Norma). I was sleeping at the house of my Auntie Simeona at that time – I wasn’t that big, I wasn’t that brave, but they needed a male companion at night (it’s a long story) – and somebody called my parents and they called for my namesake Dr Francisco Sapigao, who gave me medicine to drink. They all do, don’t they, the doctors give you orders to follow and medicine to drink. He didn’t tell me that something was wrong with me.

That incident was soon forgotten; even I forgot about it, until it happened again, I must have blabbered the same things, and Dr Sapigao came again and did the same thing. You can’t do a good thing once too many. Still he didn’t tell me that there was something wrong with me.

Something was wrong with me. I began to really get worried. I hadn’t known I had been worrying myself to death about having lost face – a bright boy from the village kicked out of the State College, 1^st Honorable Mention in high school, the pride of his parents, one of young hopes of the village – and having lost the love of my life. Life to me had become extra-special – extra-breakable as drinking glass. Handle with care.

I had always been a special child, and perhaps as a result of that, an especially sensitive boy. When I was very small, my uncle Florentino took me on a carabao ride; while the three of us were crossing the river, somehow I slipped from my uncle’s grasp and nearly drowned – he couldn’t find me in the murky water almost too long. I was too young I don’t remember the incident, but my mind does – until now, I’m a little afraid of drowning in the water in the river, or sea, or swimming pool.

I don’t remember the years, but I remember a few times waking up to find crying faces around me, they having given me up for dead – I had stopped breathing! I believe they call that apnea. (Even today, day or night, sometimes I wake up out of breath.) I was my Mother’s Son also because of another inborn physical disability – clue: I can’t lift heavy objects – and I got exempted from ROTC because of that.

This time, what I had was more than apnea. I was drowning in my own unknown fears and hurts. I was now sleeping in fits and starts. I began seeing the number 13 in any combination of digits I saw on any printed matter, on walls, on buses, everywhere. I would add them digit by digit and see if they came up to the number 13. I equated 13 vaguely with evil, vaguely death, vaguely insanity. I would watch a movie and my heart would pound so hard I had to go out and not finish it. I couldn’t look at people and feel comforted. I could joke to comfort someone just in case, but no one could comfort me; in any case, I don’t remember if anybody tried. I think they thought there was nothing the matter with me, except a few quirks in behavior (it’s not easy to understand a loner) – or they pretended there was nothing wrong with me so that I would get better on my own accord.

I wasn’t pretending. I knew I wasn’t getting better – I was getting worse. I was still as bright, as intelligent as I was before, but I felt I was losing this war of wits between me and my own mind.

In between each battle of wits, I was acting rationally. I stopped pursuing my BS Agriculture, major in Ag Education, at UP Los Baños and applied for a teaching job at the public school in my hometown, Asingan High. To meet a requirement, I took the Pangasinan Provincial Exam for teachers and placed a tantalizingly close #2, the #1 being a lady graduate of UP Diliman (Elementary Education), who got 90.6% and I got 90.5%. (I got the figure right; I never got her name.) With such credential, while Mr Cruz, the Principal of Asingan High objected to hiring me because I did not have a few of the required papers, like I could not show a diploma – I did not have one because I was not yet a graduate, which information I did not submit – he could not refuse to take me in as a teacher because I had proven that intellectually, I was that good. Thank God for government exams.

Mentally, I was that bad – and getting badder. I could no longer enjoy any quiet moment even while I was alone, and I couldn’t have happy thoughts to soothe my wounded self. I began to read books about healing the mind. I remember one that probably saved my sanity – while I have forgotten the title or the author, I have not forgotten that it taught me the crucial lesson that the only way to conquer your demons is to confront your demons. So every time I began to think I was losing my mind, I thought about losing my mind and tried not to be afraid of that. That helped me greatly. That crazy thought helped me not to become crazy.

Amidst the turmoil in my mind, I was teaching, would you believe? A BS Agriculture would-be graduate now teaching Trigonometry, Algebra, Social Science, World History. And I taught well; I know I did. I know because my students loved me, boys and girls, especially the bright ones. I probably was a role model for them too. Like I knew how not to embarrass in front of the class a boy who was trying to embarrass me – invariably, I would tell him, ‘You’re right; on the other hand ...’ and the whole class would all smile. And I was still a bachelor at that time, not bad-looking either. I would have been crazy to tell them I was fighting my own demons – I didn’t think anybody could help, and I was a loner anyway, and even in my confused state, I confided to no one.

I had a bicycle and I used that to the max, visiting the girls at their homes, one girl at a time, kilometers away from my parents’ home. The girls, bless their souls, welcomed me with open arms, figuratively speaking, their parents too, and I slept in their houses one after the other, each time a special guest. Did the parents think I was courting their girl? Did each girl think I was courting her? I don’t know. I was very friendly with all of them, and I treated them all as my girlfriends, with my full attention even if there wasn’t any gift-giving or letter-handing at all. I knew the girls felt they were pretty special to me – because in fact they were. I treated them that way, demons or no demons in my mind. All of them (the girls). They must have known I wasn’t going to take advantage of their innocence, because I never entertained such thoughts. I have always loved girls. I have always felt at ease with girls. Before high school and even during high school, my playmates were mostly girls. All those girls saved me from ruining my own life in all those moments I was with them. Thank God for girls.

Then I almost lost my private war of wits. One late afternoon I was going home on bicycle with my good friend Federico when I felt my head was getting bigger and my heart was bursting. I felt it was my day of reckoning. It was now either Win or Lose. I insisted that my friend accompany me back to the town proper and I would have to see Dr Vitug, who I knew was the only one who could save me, as I had read his certificate on the wall of his office testifying to some training in psychiatry or a related field. Thank God for friends, thank God for certificates on walls, thank God for doctors trained in psychiatry. When we reached the clinic, I looked at Dr Vitug and he knew. He asked me about what I was feeling, what I was thinking. I told him I was feeling very bad, I thought I was dying … I hesitated a few seconds before I admitted I thought I was going insane. I was going mad.

Dr Vitug asked some more questions and I answered them as best as I could – I don’t remember the questions, I don’t remember the answers I gave – many details I have forgotten, as I’m trying to recall from more than 40 years. But I must have told him, with some sadness if not bitterness, about my debacle at UP, about my first love lost, about my being a loner and things like that. Dr Vitug was helping me purge the demons out of me. The best way to defeat your demons is to confront them. Dr Vitug helped me talk myself out of my misery – for the moment, for one shining moment. Win or Lose? It was a Draw.

The good doctor gave me some pills, I was too afraid to read the name on the label but they were tranquilizers I’m sure, and he told me to take one when I’m not feeling alright and before I go to bed in the evening, to be sure to have a good night’s sleep. I took the doctor’s advice to heart; I had no reason not to have faith in him. That was the first day. The next day, my reason took over. In the next evening, I told myself that if I kept following the doctor’s order, I would never get rid of the tranquilizer, or the doctor. So I vowed not to take one as late in the night as I could so that my body would not become addicted to the downer. In a few days, I had the upper hand; I didn’t have to take the medicine anymore. A battle of wits won.

There would be many battles of wits yet that had to be won. I still wasn’t me, all of me, all of my old vibrant me. I was still a subdued, troubled me. In any case, what was important was that I was surviving. Somehow I was keeping my wits about me.

One lonely summer, a lively, lovely girl walked into my life, Baby A, taking up Midwifery. She came to Asingan, to the village Cabalitian next to our own Sanchez as part of a summer camp from Manila. The moment I saw her, I fell in love with her – my heart had a pleasant ache – and she fell in love with me. It was clear to see it was love at first sight. It was also love at first touch – that first night, when their group invited us villagers to join in the impromptu rigodon dance with multiple couples, I was one of the first volunteers and when our hands touched – electricity! She became my bright sunshine in those cloudy days. I remember her with gladness; the villagers still remember her with fondness.

Later when I told her the story of my mental life, that I had a nervous breakdown, she said no, I didn’t. It didn’t look to her like a nervous breakdown and she was sure about it. I think that her assertion and quiet behavior helped calm my nerves. Eventually I lost her because of me, in the pursuit of my self, but I have never lost her in my mind, and have not forgotten that moment when she said, in effect, that I was all right such as I was. You can’t have too much reassurance.

With some kindly souls, I finally graduated from UP in 1965 and attended the graduation ceremonies in the summer of 1966 in UP Diliman where First Lady Imelda Marcos was more honored in attention than President Ferdinand E Marcos. I thought he was a great President, I thought she was a lovely lady. Some things were going to be great. ‘This nation can be great again!’ I invited neither my father nor my mother to share the pleasure of my graduation, but my only sister Brillita attended. My first girlfriend attended and congratulated me, but I had fallen out of love with her and she knew it. She felt it. I had by that time written my very long, winding lost-love letter to her. I had rather peculiarly enjoyed typing that manuscript of many, many pages, pouring my heart out, and then cutting the stories to pieces and pasting the pieces where they did not belong before, so that they made new, humorous or amazing stories and they reflected my state of mind. I have always been funny when I want to, sometimes even when I don’t intend to. At that time, I was laughing outside and crying inside.

Years later, she returned that masterpiece (I must say I enjoyed reading it myself after I got it back), but I decided to burn all her letters (and much later that lost-love letter, I’m not sure), the more to purge her out of my system. I opened the envelopes one by one, drew out their contents and threw the pieces one by one into the small fire I had set one night at the foot of the stairs at the Velasco Dorm near the campus. I was trying to cleanse my soul.

The concept of soul was not foreign to me. I was a devoted Roman Catholic during my high school years, where we had a Religion class every week held right inside the Catholic Church in the town proper. We attended Mass every Sunday and sang along with the choir; up to now, I know some of the Latin said at mass. We luxuriated in the weekly contest of who would get the perfect score in the quiz after the class, with Ms Remedios Lopez as our teacher-catechist, and she would give the winner a reward of a rosary, a prayer book or some religious thing or other that we were proud to possess. Oh, I won a few times. It’s all good memory.

From the late-1960s through the 1970s and the 1980s, the battles of wits were drawn; you win some, you lose some. There were many days of bright sunshine, and nights of darkness – you don’t know how dark the night is until you’re truly lonely. While not confiding to anyone, I refused to give up in all those years. With some prayer and some persistence, through the 1990s, the battles slowly began to be won in favor of me, the sunshine days getting longer and the dark nights getting shorter. But I didn’t have any idea how when I would finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Tonight, the album Gregorian Chant IV is playing by the Santi & Baby Obiens’ desktop PC in Quezon City as I write these lines (first draft) in the evening of 18 March 2007 – I’m here on a book project Baby O and I are doing. I uploaded (copied) into the hard disk this afternoon more than 2 GB of mp3, wav, wma, mid files, including songs by Tony Bennett, Mariah Carey, Ella Fitzgerald, Nat King Cole, Jennifer Paige, Charlotte Church (the next one I have selected to play) and The Corrs.

A Gregorian chant is a ‘plainsong chant of the Roman Catholic Church’ (thefreedictionary.com/). The album reminds me that in 01 January 1991, my wife and I attended a Roman Catholic Marriage Encounter (ME) weekend seminar in Tagaytay City sponsored by Bukás Loób sa Díyos (BLD) Covenant Community Los Baños District. When a couple invite you to attend an ME, they know your cross is heavy, you have problems. I was the cross, the problem.

Many years before the ME, I had become an agnostic. And years before that, I remember earnestly praying on one unhappy occasion of my birthday (17 September) in our church in Asingan for God to rid me of my troubled thoughts, to make me whole again – and no, God never answered my prayer the way I wanted him to. I waited and waited and waited. After several years of waiting for God’s answer, when I realized it was not coming, I told myself if there is no God, why the hell should I worry? If there is a God, I’m trying to do well to others anyway, so why should I worry anyway? I would be all right. If there’s a God, he wouldn’t mind.

Before you can attend an ME, you have to show a marriage certificate from church. Amparo and I were never married in church before this – we were married by Judge Leonides Perlez (Amparo remembers the name, I don’t) in Bay, Laguna 18 March 1967 – and since I felt my marriage was breaking up, thanks to me, this was my last straw, so I consented to get married in Catholic rites at the San Antonio de Padua Parish Church along Lopez Avenue in Los Baños in 28 December 1990, a day Filipinos call Niños Inocentes; it was our own Innocents’ Day. (The young ones Herod had ordered massacred are considered the first martyrs of the Catholic Church.) Innocent? That was after some 40 years outside the church: A sinner is always welcome home, even if he is only somewhat repentant.

The ME was a most unforgettable experience to me, and I cried a lot. The whole class of couples cried rivers. Not the me but the ME saved my marriage, I have no doubt about that. A little later came the Family Encounter (FE), and the FE saved my family, I am sure. Don’t look at me. I was hardly contributing my fair share. I didn’t know how. (My joke: The trouble with being a parent is that when you learn to be good, it’s too late.) And even if I knew how, I was barely in a position to contribute. I was still busy struggling with my inner turmoil and I wasn’t sharing it with anyone. Still, BLD prayer meetings and Bible readings were more or less happy occasions to share insights into the real worlds, the inner and the outer, and I felt my self beginning to find its more pleasant being.

Sometime in 1995, I’m not sure of the year, but I’m sure of what happened: I was walking home one early evening along the short and narrow road called Dangka in Mayondon in Los Baños when I had the urge to look up at the heavens. I saw stars as I expected, but an unexpected and sudden thought came to me, a surprising inner voice telling me, in these words more or less: ‘Ang yabang mo. Ni isang maliit na bituin na ganito di mo magawa.’ ‘You are so conceited. And yet you cannot make even one little star like this.’ Something washed over my whole body and I shivered a little. I was alone. I wasn’t talking to anyone, remember? That must have been God talking to me. Still: This was the answer to my prayer, a scolding? But I felt much reassured. God never ever did talk to me before.

Many months later, I decided to do what I had learned during one of those BLD events – cast all your troubles at the foot of the cross. Jesus, I’m throwing all my cares at the foot of your cross. You have to take care of them now for me because now I know I can’t handle them. Please help me! My prayer was not in those exact words but God knew what I wanted to say. My reason had been getting in the way of my faith. I had been intellectualizing everything. So now I was ready to give up reason in favor of faith.

Still it was not going to be easy. I had been given to debate every little point I heard anyone make. I had always been a wide reader and my head was full of bits and pieces of information and I knew all the bad habits of people who would like to win a discussion or debate: declare a non-sequitur, argue ad hominem (getting personal, not reasonable), bring it to a ridiculous level, call people names, beat around the bus – if you can’t beat around the bush. I didn’t practice any of that, but I would vehemently point out such when it came to my notice, and nobody likes to be told he’s arguing badly. It will take a miracle for a logical mind to believe fully in a God who cares.

Sometime in the late 1990s, when for our BLD Living Word / Bible couples sharing, we were members of a group that included Del Gabriel whose husband Bernard was very sick, I chanced upon Proverbs 17: 22 that said (NAB): ‘A joyful heart is the health of the body.’ Reader’s Digest: ‘Laughter is the best medicine.’ Still, it took me years before I decided to be happy no matter what, whether there was or there wasn’t reason to be or not to be. In practical terms, I decided to pay attention to my family. While I didn’t tell my wife or any of our children (count them if you like), I began to enjoy every moment I spent with any of them: Jomar, Jay, Teresa, Cynthia, Dinggoy, Jennifer, Daphne, Neenah, Edwin, Ela. Tina was/is in Toronto, with her own 2 daughters with husband Cris Capati; she visited years ago when she was still without child and I was happy. Dida was/is in New York, with her own 2 daughters now with husband Karl Cerni; they visited the other year and I enjoyed being with Gabby, their firstborn. A big family is a problem, and so is a little family – not because of the number but because of the members, especially because of the parents. Guilty.

I didn’t get the miracle I suspect that my logical half-self wanted, that my believing half-self expected – not in a thousand days. But after those thousand days, I began to see that I was enjoying what I was doing and I truly was beginning to enjoy my family and my family was beginning to enjoy me back. What you sow is what you get. They were now welcome into my world where before they would be intruders, aliens in my many worlds: writing, editing, desktop publishing for people – not a few times paid only with compliments, sometimes paid only with silence. What you say is what you get. WYSIWYG. It almost cost me my sanity to learn that simple lesson? Yes. It is the simple lesson that is difficult to learn – it must be because it’s so simple it doesn’t sound like it’s true.

Quite a few years ago, one day I just knew God had fully answered my prayer of some 40 years and had healed me completely. I am truly glad. There was a first happy occasion when I noticed the beginning of the healing, and I texted Chaini about it. I don’t remember the year, but I remember our cat Cabo was still alive. I’m sure she (Chaini) remembers it, as I also told her about Cabo, The Cat Who Would Not Die – she fought fierce battles and would come home wounded, and she always recovered. Then one day, she stayed at home and would get in my way and I noticed that. The next day she left, and never returned – she will never die in my memory. Chaini I consider one of my many long-lost daughters (students, classmates & officemates), one of the girls I love for being themselves.

While I am not anywhere near perfect now, I feel complete and at peace with the imperfect world. Not to be able to abandon self is to submit to faith half-heartedly, not to abandon self to God completely. In one you are sure to be confronted with agony, in the other you can hope to be embraced by ecstasy. I would rather be embraced. With this story, I embrace you. - By Frank A Hilario

Ogle Google now! Gmail doesn't behave like she used to

2011-03-26T08:55:00.001+08:00

MANILA - I love Gmail. I parted with Yahoo because of her. You know, the one with the big beautiful body. I fell in love with her the first time I saw her sometime in 2005. My son Jomar had told me about her. It's been more than a 6-year love affair, and it's been great!

With Gmail, among other things, I love that I can easily find "Archive" and "Report spam" and "Delete" and "Move to Inbox" and "Labels" and "More Actions" and "Refresh." I love that I can delete a hundred spams with just 1 click of the mouse (another click to confirm). I can change my fonts and their sizes and colors, for emphasis.

Now that for a book I have to read 3,000 email matters, many of them grouped as "Conversations," I love it that I can click "Expand all" and read, with each one of the letters opened for me.

I also love that I can search the Web immediately even if I haven't left Gmail: I type my search term(s) and just click "Search the Web" instead of "Search Mail."

But my love is being threatened by Gmail herself, nagging and threatening separation. Girls will always be girls? What am I going to do with a love lost?!

I thought she loved me. Alas! For the last few weeks, I have been reading on top of my Gmail box this announcement:

You are almost out of space for your Gmail account. Once you run out of space, you will not be able to send or receive any emails until you delete some items.

Today, below my Gmail box it says (hard to read because it's in red against my tropical background):

You are currently using 7328 MB (96%) of your 7565 MB.

And you know what? I have been deleting a great many items (and times) but I still see my Space Free contracting and my Space Used expanding some more. This is unnerving, to say the least, does Gmail realize that?

In the early years, Gmail was happily expanding my email universe with her megabytes; now she is happily threatening me by constricting my storage space, and everyday reminding me that I am running out of space. What have I done except accept her generosity?!

Why can't Gmail accept that it is not me but she is running out of space?

Paradigm shift. The solution is very simple, and very smart: Right now and every year hence, let Gmail allow me to easily copy my emails from her hard disk and save them on mine, and then she can delete those files. In that case, I need only 1 GB from her, thank you very much. What's 1 gigabyte between lovers?

I made my first acquaintance with Gmail on 02 July 2007; today I have 22,438 mail matters (some consist of more than 1 email) - that's only 7.6 GB, and Gmail is complaining of a flood from Frank A Hilario! Now, I have in my Intel Core i7 desktop PC those 2 hard disks with a total storage space of 320 GB; I also just bought an external hard drive, Seagate, that is an additional 500 GB - so I shouldn't have any problem keeping my own email files, right? If you can't solve a problem, change the problem!

The trouble with Gmail is that she bit more than she could chew.

Angelo Reyes? To mourn or not to mourn

2011-02-09T09:32:00.001+08:00

Secretary of Defense Donald H. Rumsfeld (left) escorts his guest, Gen. (Ret.) Angelo Reyes, minister of national defense of the Republic of the Philippines, into the Pentagon on Aug. 12, 2002. The two defense leaders will hold discussions on a broad range of security topics, including the war on terrorism. DoD photo by R. D. Ward. (Released)
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Secretary of Defense Donald H. Rumsfeld (left) escorts his guest, Gen. (Ret.) Angelo Reyes, minister of national defense of the Republic of the Philippines, into the Pentagon on Aug. 12, 2002. The two defense leaders will hold discussions on a broad range of security topics, including the war on terrorism. DoD photo by R. D. Ward. (Released)
" align="left" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_OqHOliMK1TY/TVHusSQvTOI/AAAAAAAAFEk/Db65rNuB0uo/angelo-reyes-gp_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="180" height="244">MANILA - Mid-morning news today, 08 February 2011, says "Former DND Secretary Angelo Reyes (committed) suicide" while he was with 2 of his sons and 2 aides visiting his mother's tomb; he had asked for them to leave him alone for a while, and then shot himself in the chest (Cocoy Dayao, 08 February 2011, propinoy.net). That would be to the heart. Someone said those who fall from grace usually shoot themselves in the head. Was Secretary Reyes saying his conscience was clear (his head), but they had broken his spirit (his heart)?

It happened at the Loyola Memorial Park in Marikina City (PEP, Yahoo News). He was declared dead on arrival at the Quirino Memorial Hospital. This afternoon, I heard General Mariano Santiago say over DZBB (I don't listen to radio but my wife does and this time I was paying attention), that suicide was apparently the only way Secretary Reyes thought could redeem his honor, which is one of the high ideals of PMA graduates, which they both are. It was to protect his family from any further fallout from the Senate inquiry in aid of legislation into the plea bargaining agreement with Major General Carlos Garcia who had been accused of plunder by the Philippine government.

Goodbye, Secretary Reyes!

No, I never knew Secretary Reyes nor am I related to him or his wife, nor is he my townmate, but I am shocked nevertheless. He was going to be 65 next month, on 17 March 2011. I am 71. Life is precious, and for it to end, and more so suddenly, the angst comes abruptly. We the living are not programmed to accept a love one's death instantly. We grieve much, and suddenly.

And I, I have suddenly realized that we must learn some lessons for living from the dead. Let me start with a personal favorite, from John Donne (from Meditations XVII, The Literature Network):

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine's own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls: it tolls for thee.

We must grieve. But how do we grieve? It is important that we grieve well; it is necessary to our soul's nourishment that we grieve and ultimately heal ourselves.

Angelo Tomas Reyes had been grieving. All he did was grieve in, not out. Grief must be good, in and out. Now his loved ones will have to learn to grieve well.

In grief, we the living must watch out; if we don't, our grief will slide us slowly or surely down the abyss of depression, or worse. Depression is a familiar territory to me. Been there, done that. I escaped from the imprisonment of shame and guilt only when I learned to forgive myself. And that was the hardest thing to do.

Based on my experience then, I want to share with you an insight, a new concept, AFFOGo, borrowing from Elisabeth Kubler-Ross' concept of DABDA, the 5 stages of coping with death by those who are terminally ill: Denial > Anger > Bargaining > Depression > Acceptance. (I have written about DABDA; see my "The Children of Maidanek," 20 May 2007, American Chronicle). My AFFOGo is the flipside - it begins where DABDA leaves off. It is the 5 stages of coping with the undeniable and unexpected death of a loved one: Acceptance > Forgiveness, once > Forgiveness, twice > Offering > Grieving out. Yes, you must go through 2 different stages of Forgiveness. Both deal with death. DABDA is for dealing with the darkness; AFFOGo is for dealing with the light.

Stage 1, Acceptance: You have to accept at once; if you deny the fact of someone's death, sudden or not, you are a living dead. Or a coward of the Shakespearian variety. Let us learn from the most famous soliloquy of the world (Hamlet, Act 3 Scene 1):

... To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all ...

Stage 2, Forgiveness, once: In conscience, the next stage is to forgive that someone who has hurt you, dead or alive. 99 out of 100 you will probably say, at once, "I have forgiven." If you say so. Have you, really? If you have not forgotten those hurts, you have not forgiven, really. You are a damn fool to forgive someone who has done you grave wrong, right? Right. Be a damn fool and forgive that someone anyway!

Stage 3, Forgiveness, twice: Speaking as a Roman Catholic, I know it's easy to confess your sins to a priest, do penance, and accept pardon when he says God has forgiven you, but it's next to impossible to forgive yourself. You may have forgiven others, but if you have not forgiven yourself, you have not truly forgiven. And how do you know that you have not forgiven yourself? Same measure used for forgiving others: You have not forgiven yourself if you have not forgotten those hurts. Forgotten is forgiven. Be a damn fool, forgive yourself and forget, anyway!

Stage 4, Offering to God: We must accept that we are at the end of our rope, surrender all our sadness to God, cast all our cares at the foot of The Cross. You must carry your cross, but when you can't take it anymore, throw that personal cross there. We must offer everything to the Almighty. This is the penultimate stage to healing.

Stage 5, Grieving out: Finally, we must learn to grieve out in order to be able to grieve well. "I love mankind," Linus of Peanuts says. "It's people I can't stand." To grieve out is to let go and let God. Only then can you proceed to full healing. Only then can you be free to love mankind again, specific people specially.

World, listen to me! Through the eyes of a Filipino

2011-01-08T09:19:00.001+08:00

I am a Filipino, and proud of it! Before this, you probably have read the letter from a Korean living in the Philippines about what's not wrong and what's right about this country. This one is by a Filipino on the Philippines. As did the Korean letter, this came through the email, and having read and thought it great, I decided to publish it myself, with just a teeny-weeny bit of editing. (My photograph; I have titled it "A Barrel for the World" inspired by the writer of this, A Manifesto of One Filipino that I believe should be addressed to the world.) The original text is multi-colored, but I have to settle here for itals to highlight certain lines.

Through The Eyes Of A Filipino
By Hazelyne M Elgar

Listen to me!
You might think we are a poor nation,
but when I look around me I do not see just poverty.
Instead, I see farmers, back bent from sun up till sun down nurturing the land.
I hear fisherfolks heaving, as they gamble with their lives
amidst angry winds and rough waters just to nourish their families.
I feel the weary legs of children from far-flung villages,
as they cross rivers and mountains and walk for miles,
just to get to school, because they still dream.
I see determination in the eyes of street children
playing tag with cars flying past on a ruthless highway
in order to augment their parent’s meager earnings.
In the face of destitution, the Filipinos are steadfast.
That is courage.

You rebuke us for the graft and corruption plaguing our government,
but when my eyes skim the front pages of broadsheets, I do not see hopelessness.
Instead, I am inspired by stories about pushcart classes
and strangers swimming in deep murky flood waters to save nameless individuals.
I immerse myself in news
about how my countrymen unceasingly believe in the spirit of unity.
I revel because millions of Filipinos still voted for change.
At times when we are at the receiving end of the world’s censure,
I choose to see the noble intentions of fallible men to help.
In tumultuous situations, when the urge to hold others culpable is difficult to resist,
I hear a leader embracing the liability just like a leader should.
In the face of adversity, the Filipinos are united.
That is courage.

You chastise millions of my countrymen
for leaving our motherland to seek greener pastures.
Answer me this:
Have you ever listened to how they whimper at night because they long for home?
When Filipinas, forced to work away from their dear ones,
shed silent tears as they lull to sleep infants not their own
I begin to understand what unconditional love is.
You lure away our engineers, artists and teachers with a promise of a good life.
The loving hands of our nurses tend the health of your people.
Do no dare ask why we need to fill the void in your labor force!

The Overseas Filipino worker
is intelligent, ingenious, hard-working and resilient.
I see that, and in my eyes they are heroes.
In the face of obligation, the Filipinos are self-sacrificing.
That is courage.

You are at liberty to express your opinion about my country,
but you can never take away my pride,
for I belong to a people united in faith and love.
I am Filipino, and no matter where I go I will always be one.
I do not doubt that the time for change will one day come for the Philippines.
Our flag, cast in the sun’s glorious light, will be waving high.
My countrymen’s sacrifices will not be in vain.
We will face the future with courage.
As one, we will reach out to the world and the world will embrace us.
Believe me, because I will take the lead.

Charice & Raquel. 2011, Mothers, love your Daughters & vice versa

2011-01-04T10:03:00.001+08:00

MANILA - 2011, Year of the Rabbit. In Chinese horoscope, the Rabbit "signifies calm, diplomacy, sensitivity and consideration for others" (squidoo.com). Reading that, I think of 2010 backwards: mostly of Charice, mother Raquel, and brother Carl; the Pempengcos are mostly calm, diplomatic, sensitive, and considerate of others. Hey, nobody's perfect, no year either!

Charice and Mommy Raquel are the cover girls for the Christmas 2010 issue of Good Housekeeping Philippines. Jointly, their smiles are as radiant as any Christmas tree lit in New York's Rockefeller Center in any December. Good Housekeeping, you're perfect!

The GHP cover story is well-written, by Bubbles Salvador, and she is right in presenting it as a combined Charice & Raquel story, as you can’t have one without the other.

I thank Bubbles Salvador for telling us an old/new story that she tried to tell differently, and largely succeeded. Specifically, Frank H can thank her for these bits of information mostly new to him:

(1) Fame & fortune - Rich & famous? Mommy Raquel is the one who is keeping Charice’s head from rising above the clouds. Not that easy. She says, “Pinapaisip ko sa kanya na di siya sikat; kilala lang, parang natural lang, parang kilala ka lang sa Gulod, kung saan kami nakatira dati. Natural lang, di ilalagay sa ulo.” I keep her thinking that she is not famous, just known; just act naturally, just as you are known in humble Gulod, where we lived before. Just act naturally, not put it in your head. Mother knows best!

It’s the attitude. GH asks how Charice feels about being “super famous” anyway? Charice says, “Masaya!” Happy! And “Overwhelmed.” About Charice’s feet being firmly planted on the ground, “thanks to her mom Raquel,” Bubbles says. Frank H says, in great measure, we also ought to give “thanks to Oprah,” who as fairy godmother with her magic wand hovering above the little girl, has a standing advice to Charice: “Keep your feet on the ground, even when you’re wearing high-heeled shoes.” From one of the wealthiest women in America, that's very expensive advice, not to taken cheaply.

(2) Contests & mothers - Bubbles says Charice won about 80% of the 100 singing contests she joined. That's 4 out of 5. Frank H says, I suppose that's a very good record, but it must be nerve-wracking to join so many singing contests, and you're a tiny girl at that! I know she started when she was 7. Bubbles says Charice says, one reason she joined so many contests was because she didn't want her mother to work. Frank H says, I suppose Charice knew she would win enough of the contests to be able to support her little family. Think of winning, not losing. You call that self-confidence.

(3) Noodles & Samaritans - There was the time when someone stole all the money they had: PhP 3,000. In the meal that followed, they had 1 pack of ready-to-cook noodles, pancit canton - literally, noodles from Canton, China; popular in the Philippines, in cheap little packs - and along with rice, these noodles from 1 pack they shared among themselves: mother, daughter and son. Poor as a rat. (Scene's familiar; Frank H says, my own not-so-little family went through that noodle phase too, and not just once.) Then they heard of a singing contest in Batangas. Some kind soul lent them an expensive watch - not to tell the time or kill, but to pawn for whatever it was worth; Raquel got PhP 1,000 for that one, and off they went to the contest. That was a very expensive watch. 1 for the money, 2 for the show! Charice won this one, PhP 8,000. Debt paid immediately, along with gratitude paid profusely. Faith restored in Samaritans, faith restored in oneself. "Yan si Lord," Charice says, smiling. That's the Lord. That's how God works. Frank H says, that's how people should act.

(4) Character & sabotages - Bubbles thinks about what all those contests did to Charice and says, "Those singing contests were not just a source of income for the Pempengcos - one could say they were character-forming as well. How else would Charice emerge this strong-willed if it weren't for those who would try to sabotage her performances?" Well, Frank H the teacher says, if you're willing to learn, you will.

So, Charice tells GHP in so many words, as in show business, some people become your enemies. One time, someone complained that Charice was already 20 years old, not 14 as she had claimed. At another time, someone unplugged the microphone while Charice was singing - no, that didn't stop her. "Sing pa rin ako," Charice says. Never mind; sing is what I did. No one can stop Charice from singing! Singing is what she does. "She's a Walking Karaoke," FalseVoice told Frank H during an interview last year. The Philippines has The Walking Karaoke of the World!

(5) Time & things - When she didn't win the 1-million-peso Grand Prize of Little Big Star, Charice told her mother she never wanted to sing ever again. But Mommy Raquel told her, "Everything happens for a reason." Charice says she realizes that now, not before. There really is a "time for everything." Yes. "For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven" (Ecclesiastes 3: 1, NRSV Catholic Edition).

(6) Mothers & Daughters - Charice is willingly still under the influence of her mother Raquel. "In fact, may ipon po akong puwede ko nang galawin dahil 18 na ako, pero hindi ko pa rin po kinukuha kay Mommy," Charice says. In fact, I have savings that I can now touch because now I'm 18, but I have not taken it from Mommy. Mommy remains to be a treasurer Mommy as well as a treasured Best Friend.

(7) Charice & Raquel - Mommy Raquel says she had been busy with other things last year that she could not be with Charice for 2 months especially during the David Foster & Friends Asian Tour in October. Then there was that mild food poisoning in Singapore. Raquel says it could not have happened if she was with Charice. Frank H says, well, all manners of mothers will say that!

(8) Talking & singing - There was an audition for Glee that was unlike any other audition for any other TV series - Frank H says, well, because Charice is unlike any other performer. From Bubbles:

"Nung audition, sobrang serious and mukha nila. Natakot ako! Pero sobrang ready ako. May dala pa po akong laptop," Charice begins. "Pinakuwento nila sa akin ang buhay ko, tapos di nila ako pinakanta. Ako pa ang nag-offer, 'Can I sing?'" (Frank H's translation: At the audition, their faces were over-serious. I got scared! But I was over-ready. I even brought a laptop. They asked me to tell my life story, after which they did not bother to ask me to sing. I was the one who offered, "Can I sing?")

Frank H's interpretation of that scene is that those who were there already knew that Charice was "in" Glee if unofficially. They didn't bother to ask her to sing because they already saw and heard her in the Oprah show - and they already had listened to her 1st international album self-titled CHARICE - they just wanted to hear her talk in person. (Laptop noted.)

So: Thanks Good Housekeeping Philippines for the Charice & Mommy Raquel cover photo, and thanks Bubbles Salvador for the cover story "When Dreams Come True." That one is 2,455 words, just a handful of words longer than this one in text. The Chasters are much obliged.

Still, Frank H feels that Bubble's piece could have been double the value if it had been titled "How Dreams Come True" and/or written with that in mind. Emphasis on the process, on how Charice started singing at age 7 to help bring food to the table, on how she dreamed her little and big dreams, how Charice lost her father and almost lost her mother, how she took her loss in a 1-million-peso singing contest, and how her mother had always stood by her side.

Thinking all that, this Chaster has 2 little, specific complaints:

One, that Bubbles wrote "Having come from a painful past, Charice sometimes feels it's all a dream," but forgot the details of that personal story. I know now that part of that painful past is that her father Ricky, drug-induced, tried to kill her mother Raquel when Charice was only 3 years old; that was 15 years ago, and that little family has been broken ever since. Happy now, but still not whole. Not to forget the recent past, when her grandmother Tess Relucio in public cried wolf quite a few times, and in private tried to tell Oprah. There was no wolf, and she knew that.

Two, that Bubbles glossed over something crucial to the musical story of Charice by simply saying, "By a twist of fate thereafter, Charice found herself guesting on Ellen (DeGeneres) talk show, and then on Oprah." Saying that immediately after pointing out that Charice lost in Little Big Star is too big a jump in the story. Something is lost in the levitation.

As far as I'm concerned, that "twist of fate" must be told in no uncertain terms, in some detail. What's missing in the Bubbles Salvador piece Charice herself intimates in this quote from the GHP article:

Charice sometimes feels it’s all a dream. “Especially bago ako matulog, iniisip ko yung past, tapos natatawa ako kasi unexpected lahat. Dahil lang sa YouTube!” she says unbelievingly. (Frank H's translation: Especially before I sleep, I think of the past, then I laugh because it has been all unexpected. Just because of YouTube!)

Just because of YouTube. Having researched the life of Charice since September 2009, checked and rechecked, and now with my 250-page book on her ready to go to press, I know that the "twist of fate" happens to be FalseVoice and YouTube. This young man happened to have witnessed and recorded from television to personal computer the Little Big Star performances of Charice, and to have become an instant fan. On TV and on the PC, he had been awestruck that so tiny a girl had so big a voice, and how lovely!

Twist of fate. From my long interview with FalseVoice March 2010, I know that on 2006 January, his family finally was able to buy him a PC, as well as pay for an Internet connection. He was soon surfing the Web; he was soon into YouTube, this free video site that was new at that time. As FalseVoice was enamored with watching concerts live or on TV, he had been watching the ABS-CBN singing contest called Little Big Star. In 2006 April, the Grand Finals of Little Big Star was held, and Charice lost her dream of the Grand Prize of 1 million pesos - she was ranked #3, not #1, not even #2. FalseVoice had it all in his mind, if not on video. Encouraging as well as discouraging thoughts.

Frank H knows Charice's loss in Little Big Star was bigger than the cash prize: it was psychological. That this loss broke Mommy Raquel’s heart was bad enough; that this wish did not come true broke Charice’s spirit. She went on a depression, and these lasted hours that lasted into days that lasted into weeks that lasted into months. At some points, even Mommy Raquel could not reach her at where she was hiding herself from reality, strumming her guitar as if to drown the silent voices that kept whispering loudly into her ears:
You are ugly.
You don't have enough talent.
You don’t have star quality.
You don’t have a future in the entertainment industry.
And those words kept repeating themselves.
It was the beast of times; it was the worst of times.

Oblivious to all that but remembering the little girl with the big voice, in 2006 August, FalseVoice uploaded a music video with Charice singing “I Will Always Love You” in Little Big Star. He nurtured that upload of his by commenting on the video uploads of others and linking them to his YouTube channel, truly named FalseVoice. One day, he noticed YouTube comments comparing Filipino teenager Charice with American teenager Bianca Ryan who had sang "And I Am Telling You (I'm Not Going)" for her audition for that year's America's Got Talent search.

Conversant in music and suddenly infused with an insight, FalseVoice created probably the very first singing comparison video in the Web. He gave it the name "Face-Off: Bianca Vs Charice" and where Bianca sang "And I Am Telling You (I'm Not Going)" and Charice sang "I Will Always Love You." That was Loser (the Philippine's Little Big Star) Versus Winner (America's Got Talent). The video won. It became a YouTube hit right away, FalseVoice says. The YouTube viewers knew a winner when they saw one.

And that has made all the difference in the life of Charice, who never forgets she owes a deep debt to FalseVoice for her international - and sensational - music career. With YouTube came, over time, Star King, Ellen DeGeneres, Oprah, and David Foster; with that music career came last year the recurring role as Sunshine Corazon in the Fox hit TV series "Glee." Big dreams come true to little girls when they remain true to themselves - and can wait.

Charice's is the story of a mother who discovered her daughter could sing, and of the daughter who asked the mother if she could teach her how to sing, and of the mother who taught the daughter even as she began joining singing contests, so that by the time she had done 100 and won 80 competitions, she was ready for the big time - but the big time wasn’t ready for her, and rejected her mightily: She placed 3rd in the Grand Finals of the ABS-CBN’s 1-million-peso Little Big Star singing contest in April 2006. But all is well even if that didn't end well.

Charice today is the Pop Princess of American mainstream music, according to the New York Post; she is the Concert Princess of Asia according to the American Chronicle. And she is the one that brought more sparkle and more heart as Sunshine Corazon to the popular American TV series Glee. Watch the next episode! And the next, and the next.

Looking at those 2 hale & hearty lovely ladies on the cover of Good Housekeeping, I dream of food. 2011. I dream:

These are the yeast of times, the wurst of times.

Almost Christmas. The language of love, nothing personal

2010-12-25T07:26:00.001+08:00

MANILA (24 December) - It's almost 12 midnight, almost Christmas. Having been putting some order to the disorder in my little room at home, some books and publications have come up from some forgotten years. While I was partaking of the delicious Christmas Eve molo prepared by my daughters Jinny, Daphne, and Neenah, I noticed this booklet and opened it at random. "What's Missing?" is the title of a daily devotional entry in The Upper Room issue of September-October 2008, published by New Day Publishers (Quezon City). This entry is for Sunday, 14 September 2008. Heidi A Tierney said, "I did everything I was asked to do." Teach Sunday school and vacation Bible school. Participate in Bible studies. Lead church fellowship. Be a member of the leadership team. Heidi was an excellent member of the church.

One day, someone asked her, "Why do you do all this for the church?" Heidi's reply was: "Because I love you guys!" The response to her response was, "That's a wonderful sentiment, but it's not quite the right reason to be serving the church."

Heidi then said to herself:

I didn't understand. Why was loving my friends not quite right? What was missing? God was missing. I did not have a personal relationship with God. So in Bible studies, in worship, in prayer, in ministry, and in relationships with others, I began to seek God.

Now my relationship with God is at the center of my life. God feeds my soul and sustains my life. God is my strength when I am weak, my comfort when I am afraid, my companion when I am lonely, my confidant when I am angry, my biggest fan, my best friend.

Not so fast, my friend.

But first, I must point out that I'm Roman Catholic, and The Upper Room is not intended for Catholics - Didache is, by Shepherd's Voice Publications (Quezon City) - but as a writer, I have found that I gain more insights if my readings are eclectic. So here I am, a Roman Catholic, being confronted by the classic Protestant line about having "a personal relationship with God." Today, being charismatic themselves, some Roman Catholics may mouth those exact words, but not in the fervor that the Protestants say them - and you cannot say that Roman Catholics are not Christians!

In the first place, the question was not very smart: "Why do you do all this for the church?" The question contained the answer itself. Heidi was doing it all for the church, that should have been enough.

In any case, Heidi did answer, and when she said, "Because I love you guys!" the better response would have been, "Why do you serve those whom you love?" followed by the question, "Do you serve those whom you do not love?"

Why couldn't Heidi herself see that while she served those whom she loved, the personal relationship with God wasn't missing at all - that's exactly where the personal relationship was with God! With people. When you serve your neighbor, you serve God. Nothing personal.

And yet, serving those whom you love is only, let me say, 10% of the essence of Christmas, of Christian love. The greater 90% is serving those whom you hate! If you cannot do that, your relationship with God is only 10%. It matters little how many Bible versions you read - I read 5, how many Bible studies you undergo, how many worship services you attend to, how many prayers you religiously send God in earnest, how many ministries you serve in, and how many relationships you have with others whom you love.

I know. To serve those whom you hate is your greatest hate, but it's all very simple: You cannot serve God and Demon, both at the same time. You cannot serve God and discriminate at the same time. Jesus himself told the multitude; those who have ears, listen! (Matthew 5: 46-48, The NRSV, Catholic Edition):

For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.

That's the point: To be perfect. To be Christian is to be perfect, 100%. You serve your church 100%, and yet you serve your spouse only 10%, because of your 90% hate. You cannot find a personal loving relationship with God, on one hand, in having a personal relationship with members of your church because of your love and, on the other, in not having a personal relationship with your spouse or daughter or son or distant relative or officemate because of your hate.

While you seek God in your Bible studies, in worship, in prayer, in ministry, and in relationship with others whom you love, all the more you must seek God among those whom you do not love. When you find Him there, you will find the greatest God of all. The Greatest Creative Force. May the Force be with you!

God did not become a baby and wasn't born on Christmas Day seeking a personal relationship with only those who loved Him. He did not come giving love. He came seeking love from those who hated God by hating their fellowmen, those who sinned against God by sinning against people. That is the essence of Christmas.

Your relationship with God should be the center of your life, yes. But you cannot love God without loving your fellowmen, especially those whom you hate. "I love humanity," Linus of Peanuts says. "It's people I can't stand!" How can you go on with your life at peace when hate feeds your soul and takes hold of your body? How can God be your strength when you cannot see God in the weak? How can God be your comfort when you cannot comfort the nearest one who is lonely? How can God be your confidant when you're angry? How can God be your biggest fan when you ignore the biggest number of His creatures? How can God be your best friend when you cannot begin to be a friend to those who are not your friends, whom God loves as His friends?

Almost Christmas is not Christmas. Christmas Day and any day, you must speak the language of love, or at least not speak at all.

Managing results/losses. The politics/science of climate change

2010-12-22T18:06:00.001+08:00

MANILA - Every so often, an odd thought suddenly appears - and sometimes an old book you were not looking for. What do you do? Welcome the thought, open the book. The thought may change your mind, the book may change your perspective. If you’re in luck, the perfect photograph will appear too.

For the past few days, I have been putting to a semblance of order my little room of about 20 square meters in which I work - I never play; I love what I'm doing and that's play to me - I also sleep here amidst 200 books for me, and for me and my children 2 desktop computers (Celeron and Intel Core i7), 1 laptop (HP Compaq Presario C700), 2 Internet connections (Smart up, Digitel down), and 2 printers (HP LaserJet 1020 for B&W and Canon MP198 for color prints). Put in a creative mind and you will see that this writer of a father is armed to the teeth.

Now my little room looks wider; looks deceive. The mind is freer, I think. Today, 22 December 2010, suddenly, within arm's length, this book appears and so, earnestly, I am re-reading a 42-year old volume I love very much, paperbound; I'm browsing actually, guided by my handwritten notes of years ago - in my hard disk, the latest electronic file authored by me that I can get hold of is that of a book I was writing, Creative Education with the subtitle Within your reach, within your mind dated 06 March 2004, where I mention this older book, author and publisher. It's Peter F Drucker's self-confidence-busting The Age Of Discontinuity with the subtitle Guidelines To Our Changing Society (1968, New York: Harper & Row, 402 pages; the copy I have is published 1969 by National Book Store). For probably 20 years now, I have always associated this book with Drucker's radical thought and have been intellectually guided by it:

Knowledge has become the central capital, the cost center, and the crucial resource of the economy.

I'm not an economist, but I was formally trained as a teacher, graduating from the University of the Philippines, UP in 1965; simultaneously, I informally trained myself as a writer, editor, desktop publisher and knowledge manager - so you can imagine the quadruple impact on me of Drucker identifying knowledge as the new capital. They don't teach that in UP, or any other University for that matter.

That's in the very Preface of Drucker's book, page xi. Beyond that, I have reached page 57 and am reading these last words on that page:

The first question to ask in an innovative organization is: "Is this big enough so that we will have at least a new business, if not a new industry or a new technology if we succeed? If not, we cannot afford the risks." This is a very different question from the ones asked in the managerial organization when it does "long-range planning" or allocates resources. There one tries to minimize the possible loss. In innovation one has to maximize the possible results.

Suddenly a thought comes and surprises me:

What we're doing in climate change affirmative action is more minimizing the possible losses and less maximizing the possible results. We're not being SMART in managing climate change, are we? Sure, what we're doing is Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Realistic, and Time-Bound, but that's not SMART enough.

I have been writing intensely about ICRISAT and climate change since February 2007 in my dedicated blog ICRISAT Watch and the American Chronicle online; I have been writing earnestly about Albay and climate change since June 2010 in my blog iNews Earth as well as in the Chronicle. So it doesn't surprise me that 2 names now pop up in my mind: Albay Governor Joey Salceda and ICRISAT Director General William Dar. Salceda is in the Philippines; Dar is in India; one is soft-spoken, the other is not; both are brilliant leaders and results-driven; both are award-winners; both are Filipinos. One is into politics, the other is into science. Now I see that what they're doing separately though thousands of miles apart are actually running parallel to each other. Now I think that the two should meet, exchange experiences - and then emulate each other, meaning, also do what the other is doing at the same time. When they do, I would mark that as Climate Change Day in my calendar.

What Salceda is doing in Albay along with his provincial government team and proselytizing all over the world, is climate change mitigation, but which he prefers to call disaster risk reduction; he's an economist, so I understand. "Disaster risk reduction is not a cost," Salceda loves to say. "It's an investment." What Dar is doing with his team, the International Crops Research Institute for the Semi-Arid Tropics, ICRISAT, and proselytizing all over Asia and Africa and the Americas, not to mention Australia, is climate change adaptation. "We have climate change-ready crops," Dar likes to say. We should be listening to both of them.

Strange bedfellows? Now maybe I have succeeded in confusing you. Which is precisely my point. First, we have to understand where we're coming from so that we can plan on where to go, and how.

Let us take the ICRISAT sweet sorghum as the case for climate change adaptation, and the Albay mantra of zero casualty in natural disasters as the case for climate change mitigation. Albay appears unique in that aside from climate change, it suffers every now and then from Mayon Volcano erupting and Planet Earth quaking, but there are common grounds. Climate change is the environment striking back as man-made natural disaster. You have flash floods in India and you have flashfloods in Albay, for the same reasons aside from climate change: You have deforested your watersheds; you have destroyed your soils.

We are going to take sweet sorghum as representative of ICRISAT's affirmative action on climate change, and zero casualty of Albay's. That of ICRISAT is climate change adaptation; that of Albay is climate change mitigation. One is action, the other is reaction. That of ICRISAT is more proactive; that of Albay is more reactive. Both are necessary - are they of equal importance? I say:

ICRISAT, when you plant the seeds of sweet sorghum, you are planting a climate change adaptive crop: it is resistant to drought or hot weather, and therefore doesn't need irrigation; it thrives even in an infertile soil; and it has multiple uses: food, feed, fodder, forage, fuel, fertilizer. Your crop is climate-change ready.

Albay, when you plant the seeds of zero casualty, you are planting a climate change mitigation crop: it is resistant to typhoon, flood, and volcanic eruption; it thrives even in an unwelcome environment; and it has multiple effects: commerce continues, education continues, science continues, the arts and the living continue in calm. Your people are climate-change ready.

All that considered, my proposition is this:

That we need to be doing are climate change adaptation and climate change mitigation. That is to say, we need both the crops of sweet sorghum and zero casualty. We have to grow them together, side by side. Even as we do better when we intercrop sweet sorghum with pigeon pea, we have to intercrop ideas. We will also need to be building/rebuilding watersheds and soils.

My further proposition is this:

That ICRISAT and Albay gather their teams and in a 3-day workshop in January 2011 in suburban Legazpi City under the legendary watchful eyes of Daragang Magayon (Beautiful Maiden), work out one common project for the next 10 years that I shall refer to here as Magayon 2020: Sweet sorghum for maximizing results and zero casualty for minimizing losses.

Where there is a scientific will, there is a scientific way. ICRISAT has just come out with its Strategic Plan to 2020, so my proposal fits. ICRISAT's strategic move is called inclusive market-oriented development, IMOD, among other things especially including the poor farmers who are thereby linked directly to the market and all its attendant values added. IMOD transforms the farmers into entrepreneurs like they have never been before. IMOD is a brilliant move. So why not make it inclusive of the poor farmers of Albay? That would be maximizing results.

Where there is a political will, there is a political way. With Magayon 2020 as a common project, ICRISAT and Albay can then rightfully claim that they are into affirmative action/reaction as far as climate change is concerned. ICRISAT and Albay will then be both into innovation and management. Joey Salceda and William Dar will then easily become the Super Co-Champions of Climate Change of the United Nations.

In doing Magayon 2020, ICRISAT and Albay would have proved that to what Drucker implies as the need to choose between minimizing losses and maximizing results, there is another choice: You don't have to choose. You can do both. With climate change, you have to do both.

When you do Adaptation and Mitigation side by side, you turn Climate Change Affirmative Action into a Win-Win Situation.

Wyre Underground. A dance-drama for us, a rose for Neenah

2010-12-07T13:30:00.004+08:00

MANILA - Where have all the players gone? Gone to under, everyone. When will they ever learn? When will we ever learn?

Friday, 03 December 2010, Manila time, we’re watching the stage play “The Underground Movement” at the now-acoustically sound DL Umali Auditoriumat the campus of the University of the Philippines Los Baños, Los Baños in Laguna more than 60 km south of Manila. With daughters Daphne and Ela, my wife Amparo are herealso to watch daughter Neenah, who is a member of the Creative Team of Wyre Underground for the play TUM (the image you see is her design), who is head of the Publicity Committee, and one of the key performers. This is the University of the Philippines, UP. This must be good.

The play is to raise fun and funds. The beneficiary of TUM is the UPLB Artist Endowment Fund, set up in 2009, to promote the performing arts, with the vision of UP Los Baños as the center for culture and arts in the Southern Tagalog Region.I’ve heard that before, and I’m not content. A higher vision would be to produce multi-media presentations that are exportable abroad. I just hope the Fund is also on the lookout for new talents like Wyre Underground, whose play is the first multi-media production that I know of, perhaps first within the University of the Philippines, if not in the whole country. Aside from speech and music, TUM has dance, drama, and computer-generated audio-video, a device that heightens the drama. This is a high-tech stage play, even if the background scene doesn’t change at all. As a creative writer who is also a computer nerd, I applaud.

At 70, I’m attending a play, yes. My wife remembers our first date as sweethearts, in the late 1960s at UP Los Baños; it was to the play Our Town by Thornton Wilder. And the next date? It was to the play The Subject Was Roses by Frank Gilroy. Both plays were produced, directed and acted by the faculty, students and alumni of UP.A play is simply a story unfolding in front of you, so it’s easy to like it. What do you expect from a shy boy who discovered his talent for writing and grew up reading in high school and in the municipal library of Asingan, Pangasinan all those books of poems, short stories, court cases (Perry Mason), classics, westerns, and copies of TIME and the Reader’s Digest?

I am beginning to write this the day after the night before, and I can’t recall exactly how the dance-drama starts. I do remember that in the audio-video presentation while the stage is empty, there is the moving image and the animated text that shows itself onscreen intermittently; it is really a computer-generated countdown: “2 months and 2 weeks until THE MAIN EVENT...”

I’ve never been to a play like this, where the sound is high, very high, first of all because of the music: modern, high-energy, youthful, and pulsating. The lyrics and sounds are for teen-agers, not seven-agers like me, but surprise, I don’t mind. As a creative writer, I’m more curious about how this theatrical presentation develops.

As it goes on and I’m beginning to love it, I’m reminded of the hit Fox TV series “Glee” in which our very own Charice is a guest star; I saw Season 1 Episode 1 and I gave Charice 5 out of 5 stars. Glee is song & drama while The Underground Movement is dance & drama, but my expectation in the first few minutes is essentially the same - this must be goodtheatre. And my feelings as the play goes on are basically identical - this is good theatre.I give TUM 5 out of 5 stars.

5 years ago, on 15 October 2005, 11 undergraduates of UP Los Baños formed the Wyre Underground of UPLB (complete name). With this, says Germaine Cruz, the group “instigated a movement that would soon usher a new era of dance within the campus.” Wyre Underground started with a studio in the City of Calamba, trained on the streets of Los Baños, and “these members fueled themselves onto various dance disciplines.” Germaine is the Executive Director of Wyre Underground. “Wyre” comes from the first 2 letters of the first names of 2 other founders: Wymerand Ernest.

From its studio and street beginnings, I learn that Wyre Underground evolved from being front acts in the Icebag and Elbi Pie installments, and as a team in events and competitions such as the

Skechers Street Dance Battle, SSDB held at the Araneta Coliseum

SSDB 1 (2005), SSDB 3 (2007) and SSDB 5 (2009)
Wave 89.1 Underground (2005)
Sun Cellular Dance Competition (2007)
IRRI Golden Anniversary Concert (2009)
FERN Incorporated Leader’s Summit (2010)
The Pink Movement (2010)
Bamboo Rocks Elbi Concert (2010).

The founders were Andrea Mae San Gabriel, Wymer Jorell Sagenes, Ernest Gamilla, Joan Cecilia Catubig, Gladys Palomares, Lester Paolo Almazan, Richelle Joy Morales, Jose Carlos Morales, Karen Ida Rempis, Edmund Maisog, and Janina Lozano. To celebrate its 5th year, Wyre Underground conceived of TUM as its first theatre production. The playbill says:

The Underground Movement (is the group’s) definitive crossover to showcase the infusion of both dance and theatre, a means of defining the ultimate aesthetic experience as a whole. The play showcases the desire to dance, perform and inspire amidst individual personal difficulties, the elements reflected through a fluid mix of routines and acts.

Dance, dance on little girl!

Joan Cecilia Catubig, Director, says:

We take pride on the very first production of the Wyre Underground of UPLB as a means of sharing our God-given talents to all who appreciate the art of dancing. Months of training, choreography and conceptualization of an original story line paved way for a one-of-a-kind dancing experience.

I say, through this stage play, Wyre Underground elevates the street dance into stage drama. I will never look at a street dance again without thinking of a stage drama.

In celebration of 5 years of self-expression and evolution of underground hip-hop, we resurface as a stronger group bonded by love of a family. Driven by the passion and love for dancing, we take joy in what we have achieved throughout the years.

I say they have achieved more than much. From what I can gather, and what I’ve seen on stage, Wyre Underground has redefined street dancing - and continues to do so. Joan says, “We define street dancing. The group started the first training practices on the streets, having to stop in-between hand stands for a passing vehicle.”

The journey has not been easy. “We found a home and lost it,” Joan says, “moved from one training location to another. But what is important all along is that no matter where we may be, the love for dancing within our hearts and the people who are with us, will be the home that matters the most.”

From street dancing to show new moves to stage dancing to tell a story, I say, from the streets to the stage is a great leap forward.

“This production is not your usual dance show,” Joan says. “It will draw happiness, fear, confusion and enlightenment with which audience of all ages can relate to. You will not look at your dancing shoes the same way again after watching the show.”

Joan is right. At my age, I’m not up to dancing but after watching the play, I will never look at any shoe again and not think of its story.

I am intrigued as I read the Synopsis in the playbill, which tells me:

Set in the suburbs of California, The Underground Movement is a localized take on the Fil-Am dancing community where passion is king and time waits for none.

Not Manila but California, USA! I happen to believe that it is not only the dance of life that the Filipinos must confront in the United States and other countries; it is also the dance of life in the Philippines, and I am sure that for the Filipinos to excel and proudly show the world what they can achieve, it must be in the English language, in art, science, and technology. With the imposition of Tagalog-based “Filipino” as the language to use every which way, we Filipinos have straight-jacketed ourselves into world-class mediocrity. Time waits for no one, especially the mediocre.

3 cheers for stories like that of The Underground Movement!

The denouement of TUM is the dance competition, called “The Main Event” in the play. The inside story leading to that finale has no title, but since I think it’s doubly important to the whole play, I’d like to assign it a proper title, and it’s “The Other Shoe.”

In fact, the inside story “The Other Shoe” is repeated within the play, within the 2 groups of dancers competing for the unnamed prize.

In Karly’s (Karla Iriza Cerdeña) group, the Underground, their leader Mark (Mark Borillo), who is Karly’s boyfriend, loses the other shoe of his only pair of dancing shoes; there arises a conflict, and the group disintegrates, even as Mark quits.

Cecil’s (Joan Cecil Catubig) group is the Movement, but there is conflict between mother (Cecil) and daughter (Karly), which complicates matters. It turns out that it is Cecil who has the other shoe of another pair of shoes, those of her boyfriend who 20 years ago had left her with child (Karly). That is the reason the mother warns her daughter not to continue dancing lest she suffers the same fate.

This is dance-drama, and I can’t describe the dances except to say they are not of my generation, but they do fall in nicely with the storyline. Life goes on, and if you don’t get on with the dance of life, you fall, you fail.

Even when the part of the unfolding story is sad, there is hope in the sounds of the music playing and joy in the moves of the groups dancing.

In my mind, young Cecil (Neenah Hilario) is the standout player. My wife says I’m biased for our daughter, and so I am, but not Nestor Baguinon, an old friend who told me after the show, “Magaling pala yong anak mo. Kanino kaya nagmana?” Your daughter is good. Whose genes did she inherit? Nestor was looking at me and smiling.

Neenah and Jahaziel Ylagan(young Jay Cruz) act out the scene where they make love. But the scene I like and remember most is that when Neenah gently and quickly climbsand steps over the hunched backs of boys and then jumps and at the same time flips herself to land backside on the waiting hands of other boys. Roar from the audience. There are many roars and eruptions of wild applause during the entire play, but this one I like the best.

Eventually, the dance competition, The Main Event, happens. The play ends and flowers are given to some of the girls. The Hilario family didn’t have flowers to give to the daughter, so this essay is in part a rose for Neenah, you know what I mean.

The play has a modern ending; the audience is not told which group wins. I first thought that that was a deficiency in the story, and the next day, Saturday, I tell Neenah, and she says that was deliberate on their part, being vague about the results of the contest, otherwise, the play becomes like many others. Hmm.

Neenah also tells me the beginning of the play is a Huddle of the dancers; the end of the play is also a Huddle of the dancers. With that inside information, I can see that the title “The Underground Movement” is wordplay on the names of the 2 dance groups; I take it that it is also a declaration of what really is The Main Event in life, with the whole play telling us:

When will they ever learn? When will we ever learn? Sure, in life there is competition, but in the end, the main event in life is to find unity of movements, even if you have to start from the underground, from some underlying stories.

For all your getting, get understanding!

Dedicated to Janno Gibbs. “Moments of Love” by Mokong

2010-11-20T08:57:00.001+08:00

MANILA - It’s the talk of the town. On 08 November at 2017 hours, Philippine Star & entertainment columnist Ricky Lo tweets @rickylo_xclusve, “A daughter’s unwanted pregnancy is said to be the cause of the severe depression Janno Gibbs is suffering now!” I am for whom the bell tolls. Every self’s undeath diminishes me, for I am involved in mankind.

Life is full of moments of high, moments of low, moments of love - been there, done those! As a singer, composer, comedian, actor, TV personality, husband and father, Janno Gibbs have been there, done those. At 70, I know that at first blush, it’s the lows you have to watch out for. Especially the lows, such as daughter moments like those. But in real life, you have to watch out for the highs, the lows, and the loves; you may have to balance them. But how? That’s the problem!

Today, Friday, 19 November 2010, asked by a reporter of GMA 7, his good friend & entertainment star Ogie Alcasid said, happily and with feeling, “Janno’s okay. He knows he’s more than a brother to me. Believe me, he’s okay.”

Also today, at 1345 hours, I googled for
“janno gibbs" depression
including the double quotes, and I got 38,400 results (with strict filtering, English pages only). It means that thousands are talking about it.

That’s the problem with Janno right now - he’s out of touch. I heard, I read about what’s been happening to him and, while I don’t know him at all, I’d like to reach out to him by talking to him through the song “Moments of Love” composed by Mokong. When I’m talking to Mokong, Janno and his friends will know for sure that I’m talking to him. I will now share with Mokong many moments of loves and lows in my own life. If I were a wedding anniversary, I turned Platinum last September, so I’m talking like a father to Mokong.

I will begin with my own daughters’ “unwanted” pregnancies. Years ago, before any one of my 8 daughters got married, I got to thinking like this: “What would I do if one of my young girls came home pregnant and the young father would not acknowledge the act and the fact?” My own answer was something like this: “I would not force somebody’s son to marry my daughter. No, there will be no abortion, absolutely not! There will be no denying, no cursing; there will be only caring acceptance. We will lovingly raise the child as family.” By that time, I probably had returned to the Roman Catholic fold. That was one of my sweet moments of love.

I’m listening to the duet at Videokeman; here are the lyrics of “Moments of Love” with music & words by Mokong himself, from Sweets Lyrics (sweetslyrics.com):

Moments Of Love
Sung by Janno Gibbs (featuring Jennylyn Mercado)

Moments of love
Close beside you and the world from the light
All through the night
It's just you and me
Making music to the beat of our hearts
Lost in the stars.

Yes, Mokong, we must remember moments of love, but we cannot recall them when we are lost from the light all through the night and it is just us and the beat of our heart, when we have lost sight of the stars.

You know, Mokong, first love never dies. That should be something to be thankful for, right? Today, 2010, I remember my first love, if not with love, with fondness, with gratitude. But then, about 47 years ago, that first love was the reason I was kicked out of the University of the Philippines, UP, after being labeled “Extreme Delinquent,” after having disgraceful grades in all subjects: 5, 5, 5, 4, 4 - where 5 is Failed, 4 is Conditional (Pity’s the word), 3 is Passed, and 1 is Excellent. (If I remember right. If instead those grades were 5, 5, 4, 4, 4 - where’s the glory in recollecting that?) And those included 1 or 2 major subjects (Education). I was a major failure.

What about first love? I was crazy! I’m not sure first love never dies, but I know it’s always crazy. I’m sure I was. I wasn’t attending any of my classes anymore; I was attending to her. When she was in Manila in school, I was in Manila waiting for her to come out of her last class. When she was in Los Baños, when there was a Girl’s Scout activity, I was at the Girl’s Scout headquarters. When she was in her hometown, now a city, I was in that town. I was always longing to be with her. Love can make you crazy. Well, it made me so.

(Chorus)
Moments of love
Bringing us closer together
Sweet memories
I know we'll remember forever
Moments of love.
My lover, my friend
I can tell you all the things that I feel
All of this is real
Here in your arms
I feel that I could just do everything
You’ve given me wings.

What about UP? At the University of the Philippines, the label “Extremed” in those days, early 1960s, was a social stigma, a big black scar on your public face if the people knew. And of course you knew that they knew. I didn’t, I couldn’t tell my parents or anyone else in Asingan, Pangasinan, 200 kilometers away, that I got kicked out of UP, and I felt awful for not being truthful. It was a big black wound on my soul. I was readmitted, thank God, and thanks to Filomena Campos, Chair of the Scholarship and Admission Committee, but I had been wounded. The wound was inside and I felt it, but since I denied it to myself soon afterwards, it pestered.

Mokong, the story of my first love continued ... 2 or 3 years later, in a very public place, I glimpsed that my first love was not going to last when a sin of omission was committed (which I am not going to explain) that angered me and I went home heartbroken. When later I wrote to her, I poured my heart out, typing onto a great many pages and yet, that very long letter had only one message: Goodbye.

I am the boy who broke his own heart.

(Chorus)
Faded photographs and letters signed I love you
Promises we made in care
And dreams that came true.

No, Mokong, the story of my first love did not end with that long letter of a love lost that was mine. It almost ended with a lost mind, and it would have been my own.

Within a year or so from that love lost letter, of dreams that didn’t come true, I suffered a nervous breakdown. One day, I woke up in the middle of the night and was shouting that my brother Emilio was dying and then I stopped the clock - my nephew Santy Llamas, now a doctor, reminds me. He was one of the students at Asingan High; I was sleeping at their house that time. I didn’t want the day to continue so that what I feared would happen would not happen. The good doctor Francisco Sapigao was called and he give me a sedative for the rest of the night. The breakdown happened again, probably within the week, and Dr Sapigao saved me again.

The doctor saved me from my nightmares, but he couldn’t save me from my self. While there was not another breakdown afterwards, it became extremely difficult for me to sleep at night, as the darkness seemed to want to swallow me alive.

Mokong, that was because I had not forgiven myself; I had not forgiven her either. We have to learn to forgive, and the practice starts with our own selves.

At that time, I was teaching 3rd & 4th Year at the Asingan High School, teaching World History, Trigonometry, Social Studies. I had a bicycle and I had a friend, Federico Butuyan, who lived in Cabalitian, the next village after our own, Sanchez, and we often went home together biking.

One afternoon, mid-way home, I suddenly felt my heart beating fast, too fast, and too strong, and my head going wild with the thought that I would go crazy in the next minute, or my heart would burst. I begged my friend to come with me back to the town proper where I knew Dr Vitug resided, he who I remembered had a diploma in psychiatry displayed somewhere in his clinic, that special training obtained in the US. Mercifully, my friend agreed, so we pedaled back to town, about a kilometer away.

When Dr Vitug saw me, he had me sit down and asked me to look at something and focus on it - perhaps it happened that it was that certificate of training - and to tell him what I was feeling, what I was thinking. Afraid of something that I couldn’t define, I told him, “I’m afraid I’m dying.” Yes, it was all in English. I knew I wasn’t telling him the truth because, in fact, I was afraid that I was going insane but I couldn’t accept it to myself and so I couldn’t say it, or I dared not say it because if I said it, it would come true. He asked a few more questions that I don’t remember now; he made me talk and talk until I had calmed down considerably. How long, I don’t remember, and I didn’t care. I cared only that Dr Honesto Vitug saved me from myself, from my feelings of guilt, from my fears. If only temporarily. I don’t remember paying anything; my friend must have done that, thank God for friends.

Mokong, after my close brush with the undeath of self, I had to confront the remains of my fragile self in the nighttime, not to mention in the daytime. That’s when my character came to my rescue. If you didn’t know, character is stubbornness bordering on stupidity. Recalling that every evening I had to drink my sedative (I don’t remember the name or brand), and believing that I would become addicted to it if I continued like that, I decided to postpone my taking of that pill deep into the night until I couldn’t stand my own ill-at-ease feeling anymore. Late into the night I took that first pill after that threatening evening. The next evening came and I postponed my pill taking even longer than the first. The evening felt less threatening than the first. Within the week, I already could sleep without taking any pill at all. It was a triumph of the will. I needed that.

The need for a downer never came back to me. But the angst did not leave me for years and years and years and years. One time, I remember it was 17 September but I don’t remember the year, I was inside the Roman Catholic church in my hometown and I pleaded my case in similar words as these: “God (if there is a God), as a birthday gift to me, please take away my infirmity.” I was slightly crazy, remember?

No, Mokong, God did not answer, and He did not take away whatever was bothering me. So I said, “There is no God.” Really!

With that angst that would not go away, I got employed as a Substitute Lab Instructor at the University of the Philippines College of Agriculture, UPCA. I got married after a whirlwind courtship to a girl with whom I fell in love at first sight. Years later, I had fathered 12 children, 7 girls and 5 boys. We were a family, but we were not happy. I loved my job, but I knew I wasn’t happy, and it was all my fault, I had failed myself. And I couldn’t confide to anyone.

One day sometime in the late 1960s, I came across a book I don’t remember the author or the title of, but I remember that it said if you are troubled, and I was, the psychological trick is to confront the source of your fear. I learned to do just that and from then on, any intensely troubled hour would be gone as I focused on it instead of denying it. In the form of a self-dialog, it was like this:

Me: Am I going crazy?
Me: Concentrate on that!

Mokong, I know I survived my own mental disquiet by focusing on it in order to deny it the strength of its hold on me. You have to believe.

One day late in 1990, couples Frank and Carmen Paule visited us and invited us to join the next Marriage Encounter, ME 4, of the Bukás Lóob sa Díyos, BLD, a Catholic Charismatic Community in Los Baños. We had our 13th child then, a daughter. Bad luck? That was when I realized, listening to my wife talk with them and me in front of them, that my marriage was breaking down. My whole life was disintegrating and I was the last to know. Good luck!

Mokong, that Marriage Encounter saved my marriage and, therefore, my sanity. My uneasy nights went on, but from agnosticism I had returned to the safety and care of the Roman Catholic Church, and I was a changed man. I thanked God for saving my marriage, and my angst eased a little bit. Just a little bit.

No, I didn’t become overnight a loving husband, but at least I realized I needed to be Hercules because I had a herculean job to do.

And no, I didn’t become overnight a loving father. The problem was that I didn’t know I had to be a loving father! UP doesn’t teach you that. And after later when my wife, I and the children attended a Family Encounter, FE also sponsored by the BLD at the UPCA campus, I realized that the FE saved my family. UPCA doesn’t teach you that either. Thank God for FEs!

It remained for me to save myself from my undead self. Or, to put it in terms of Romans 12, to be transformed by the renewing of my mind. God would not do it for me; I had to do it myself.

Mokong, from the Marriage Encounter to the Family Encounter, the years went on and my uneasy nights would not leave me alone. Then one early evening, perhaps in 1995, I was walking home on the little street where we lived and I had just stepped into that narrow road when I happened to look up and I heard a voice, or so I imagined, that told me, something like this:

Ang yabang-yabang mo. Ni hindi ka makagawa ng isang maliit na bituin na gaya nito. How proud you are. You can’t even make one little star like this.

Mokong, was God talking to me? He must be, because I wasn’t talking to Him! Not that kind of talk anyway. I felt something that passed from up my head down to my toes and I shivered a little. That was my epiphany.

I believe what God meant was that I was stubbornly relying mostly on my own intelligence to live my life as a husband and father, even given the awareness I had gained from continuing to be an active part of the BLD community in Los Baños.

One day, I can’t remember when or where, I finally told God with all my heart, something like this:

Lord, I’m surrendering all my cares to you. I can’t bear them anymore. They’re all yours.

There was no lightning striking me down, no horse to ride either, only a bicycle, and there were no scales falling from my eyes, but one day, I realized that I had begun to enjoy the presence of members of my family! It was crazy; it was also true. That was such a revelation to me that I texted a friend, Bebeth, to tell her the good news that I felt in my heart.

Mokong, I had finally begun to forgive truly, completely. Because I had finally begun to trust God truly, completely. Today I enjoy moments of love.

(Instrumental)
And day after day
We fill our lives
With moments of love ... of love
Bringing us closer together
Sweet memories
I know we’ll remember forever
Moments of love.

And the first winner to be announced was Charice

2010-11-12T21:50:00.001+08:00

And the first winner to be announced was Charice - 2nd runner-up (3rd place)!

Her heart wanted to explode. She knew she was the best performer that time. What the hell?! Her text votes were the lowest of the finalists, she was told by the Little Big Star people. Talent was not enough. But talent was all she had against the others; she must have felt that to deny the higher value of talent over a tally of text votes was to deny her as a person. Given that, this little girl’s world collapsed on her. She slid into depression.

Here is part of the interview by Maita de Jesus of Total Girl Philippines about it (cited 26 April 2010 by starmometer.com):

“Honestly, after losing in Little Big Star, I felt like my dreams were taken away (from me). I was depressed for months. I kept on listening to sad emo songs. It’s true! (laughs) If it wasn’t for FalseVoice, I wouldn’t have made it out of my sadness.“

Again, again? “If it wasn’t for FalseVoice, I wouldn’t have made it out of my sadness.” In other words, she was in a state of suspended animation. Sooner or later, something’s got to give. The human body is not designed by the Almighty for suspended animation.

I know the feeling quite a bit. Been there, done that. I mean, I myself had been on a state of anxiety for years, not simply months, starting when I became a loser 2x in the 1960s: once, losing face (I was kicked out of the University of the Philippines - a social stigma), and twice, losing my first love (I said goodbye to her after a sin of omission that made me realize our rich girl-poor boy relationship was doomed to failure - a social reality).

I got my college degree after I was readmitted at UP, 3 years later got married to a non-rich & lovely girl, 33 years later had fathered 13 precious & precocious children, worked my ass off for love of country, but I was always hurting inside, and I never told anybody, not even my wife. In many a waking day, a feeling of doom would not leave me except when I was lost in something I was doing. It was quite difficult to sleep most nights because I would invariably think like this: How was I sure that at the end of another night was another morning? It was crazy! If it wasn’t for the BLD community starting in 1991, I may not have made it out of my malaise. Thank God for His love, for the BLD that is the Roman Catholic charismatic group Bukás Loób sa Díyos, and for the gift of writing – my way of sharing.

Charice also had God to thank for in answering her prayer at the Quiapo Church in the form of a YouTube denizen, and FalseVoice for rescuing her not only from her self but also her gift of singing – her way of sharing.

Excerpt from my forthcoming book, Princess Charice (2010), pages 204-205. Revised 16 November 2010

I had crab mentality, and I loved it.

2010-11-12T07:01:00.001+08:00

Adu a dakumo idi, awanen itan. So many crabs before, now no more.

Reading for errors my 250-page laid out manuscript for my book Princess Charice, I’m right now on page 179, opening page of Chapter 13, The Crabsters - the name I coined to refer to those who would like to destroy Charice, her fans being called by her Chasters - and so I’m once again in Asingan, Pangasinan, out there in the ricefields half a kilometer from the back of houses searching for crabs. In such a case, I’m a Crabster. I am between high school and college; my family cannot afford 2 boys in school, so I have to stop and wait.

Right now, I’m waiting to fill up my alat - small woven bamboo basket for carrying caught fish, frog, crab or such - with dakumo, freshwater field crab, the most tasty kind. Easy to catch: You insert your whole hand into a watery hole and if a crab inhabits the hole, you get stabbed or bitten by a claw or two, and you know you have struck gold, and you know exactly what to do next. Nagimas met, apo. Field crabs are delicious whether cooked red or eaten raw.

There is of course a danger that a snake instead of a crab inhabits your hole of choice. Easy to check - if the hole is full of water, no snake. The snakes in the field do like holes but don’t like water - I loved the crabs and I loved seeing those holes; if I’m wrong in this, you couldn’t be reading this, could you?

Today, November 2010, the field crabs are gone. Who drove them away? We did. Over the years, decades, we fertilized the fields too much; we sprayed the weeds too much; we sprayed the crops too much. We overdid everything, and so we are now getting feedback in the form of degradation of the environment. We are the destroyers of the Earth.

And who do you think taught the farmers of Sanchez in Asingan to apply scientific agriculture, and then to abuse it? The two brothers Hilario: Emilio first, Francisco second. My brother finished in Araneta; I finished in Los Baños - 2 different scholarships (views on learning), 2 different schools, same crime against the soil, the crops, the vegetation, Mother Nature. For instance, I would spray 2,4-D, a deadly weed killer, on any broadleaf weed and wet whole plants thoroughly and watch the leaves wilt and know that they are dying - I smiled, I delighted in watching a living creature slowly die with my own hands. Power was literally concentrated in my hands, in the nozzle of the sprayer I pointed at the helpless, defenseless weed.

We were not rich, but we were not poor either. Because my father Lakay Disiong could afford to, we bought chemicals to spray against the weeds, against the insects in anticipation of any infestation. What were we doing? We were not actually buying chemicals - we were buying convenience. We would not be bothered pulling the weeds with our bare hands - we would rather destroy them right where they lived. Even as a student in Los Baños, I anticipated such adventures. Modern agriculture was wonderful, wasn’t it? And I was learning more and more of it. I was good in theory; I was also good in practice.

***My original photo, which I have titled “Shadows” just now, is a shot taken somewhere in Bantug, April 2009; I used Photoshop to create the effect you see, as I prefer impressions over details. The image of the carabao that has appeared because of my application of Photoshop was unintended, but I like it too. The original image is that of a small tree at the left and a clump of bamboo to the right growing side-by-side. It’s still an Asingan story.

My Happy Birthday officially, I thank God unofficially

2010-11-11T18:05:00.001+08:00

MANILA - 11 November, Thursday. Today’s my birthday officially and I thank God unofficially. Let me tell you the story of my names 3 and my birthdays 3.

I forgot that today is my birthday officially, but some people didn’t. Michael C greeted me Tuesday (09 November): “Happy Birthday, and may you have many more birthdays to come. You take care.” I will! The PinoyExchange Team greeted me today, Thursday (“We at PinoyExchange would like to greet you a happy birthday today! Thank you for making us a part of your life. Wishing you happiness in your special day and in the year to come.” Thank you! OPMPinoy also greeted me today (“We at OPMPinoy.com Forums would like to wish you a happy birthday today!”) Netlog also (“Netlog wishes you a happy birthday! Congratulations.”) Congratulations to all of you for not being afraid to gift someone by giving a simple and yet meaningful greeting, “Happy Birthday.”

I’m 71 today if indeed I was born on 11 November 1939. That’s what I want to talk about today; I want to set the record straight, if only on my account. Notwithstanding, if the date remains unsettled, I can always claim that I am the man who was born 3 times!

I Frank Agapito Hilario know I was born in Sanchez, Asingan, Pangasinan in Central Luzon, Philippines, into the farmer family of an Ilocano father, Dionisio Hilario (“Lakay Disiong”) and an Ilocano mother, Sixta Agapito (“Baket Satur”). Everyone in Sanchez knows all that.

I am the 2nd child of a 3-child family: Emilio the eldest, I am the man in the middle, and Brillita the youngest and only girl. None illegitimate, none adopted. Lakay Disiong lived beyond his 90s; Baket Satur lived to be 100 years old. Don’t ask me about the dates of their births.

All my school records show the exact same date of my birth: 11 November 1939, from the files of the Cabalitian-Sanchez (now Sanchez-Cabalitian) Elementary School to the transcript of records at the College of Agriculture of the University of the Philippines Los Baños. That’s public knowledge. The Comelec has the same entry for that date of birth. Consistent. Doesn’t consistency constitute a statement of fact? We’ll see.

Now, this is not public knowledge: About 5 years ago, I went back to Asingan and checked with the Roman Catholic Church records there for a proper birthday certificate. I knew that the records of the Registrar of the town had been destroyed during World War 2. You can’t search fast among church records but, patiently, soon I found the entry for a certain Francisco Hilario who was born to Dionisio Hilario and Sixta Agapito. So that’s the full name of the boy: Francisco. But wait, this Francisco Hilario was born 22 September 1940 according to church records, or 10 months after Francisco Hilario was born 11 November 1939 according to school records. So, these are 2 different boys?

Also, this is not public knowledge: That house is gone now, but when we were that high, the front part of our house in the village of Sanchez was made of good old wood, and the 4 big sturdy corner posts went through the floor of the house and up to hold the roof in place. There was enough distance between posts and walls so that as a small boy I could squeeze into any of those spaces and stare at the post. Why would I stare at the post in that awkward position? There was good reason: Lakay Disiong had pasted a piece of paper, Grade 5 ruled paper if I remember right, with the names of his 3 children written, including their birthdays. Of course I remember me; the name written was Frank (I’m not sure if followed by Hilario), and the date was 17 September 1940 (written as September 17, 1940).

So now you have 3 almost-the-same names with the same parents but with 3 different birthdates! Francisco Hilario born 11 November 1939
Frank Hilario born 17 September 1940
Francisco Hilario born 22 September 1940.
Are they one and the same?

70 to 71 years ago. By the process of elimination, we will determine which date is which, who is who, official or unofficial. Without either documentary evidence or testimonial, I have to resort to logic. That’s what the better lawyers do, don’t they? When they have the facts, they bang on the facts; when they don’t have the facts, they bang on the logic. Including circumstantial evidence.

The 11 November 1939 entry on school records is easy to explain. When my parents brought me to Mrs Bautista to enroll for Grade 1, she could see that I was not of school age, not yet 7 years old. That was June 1947 - I would be 7 in September yet, or 3 months later. She was right.

Essentially unschooled, Lakay Disiong wanted his children to attend school and finish college. He was hoping that his 3 children, with their diplomas, will bring the family out of lack to abundance. So, a small detail like that and Lakay Disiong didn’t want No for answer. He went to a lawyer in town and produced an affidavit that his son Francisco Hilario was born on 11 November 1939, to make him older on record. It was easy to produce the affidavit because all municipal records had been burned during World War 2 - the whole town hall was burned down by the Japanese in retaliation for the bravery (and deadly anger) of the guerrillas of Asingan. I understand my father helped in the guerrilla movement by hiding the guns of the guerrillas in our house; even after the war, there were still guns in the dark storage room of our house, where the rice for cooking was kept. Presented the affidavit, Mrs Bautista laughed, and then she asked the little boy to do something that he should be able to do if he were really of school age, 7:

Mrs Bautista asked the boy to raise his right hand and above his head try and touch his left ear. Mrs Bautista knew her child development theory and practice.

Of course the shy little boy couldn’t do it. He was really too young. Shy, but not a slow foot; he was a quick thinker. Without as much as a by-your-leave, that little boy placed his right hand at the back of his head and took hold of his left ear, and then without letting go of that ear, that little boy slowly and carefully raised his elbow and, of course, even as it inched slowly up, the right hand remained on the left ear all the time! Mrs Bautista laughed. Bright boy.

So Mrs Bautista admitted the boy, but rules are rules, so only tentatively, as Visitor. But the boy showed that he was smarter than Visitor that soon enough Mrs Bautista made that boy a regular pupil in her Teacher’s List.

To be sure: That boy was Francisco Agapito Hilario. Not Frank Agapito Hilario. A wrong letter or a wrong spelling can deny you a birth certificate.

Why did Lakay Disiong use the date 11 November 1939? Because he wanted the boy to look older on paper, and 11 November in the Roman Catholic calendar gave him as one of the saints the name Francisco. Perfect fit.

So, we have a Francisco Agapito Hilario born, according to an affidavit, on 11 November 1939, a Saturday. Now, what about the Francisco Agapito Hilario who was born, according to church records, on 22 September 1940, a Sunday? And what about the Frank Agapito Hilario who was born, according to Lakay Disiong’s record, on 17 September 1940, a Tuesday?

(And why did Lakay Disiong not simply change the year, from 1940, to 1939, for school registration, without changing the day and month? My answer is that he had no way of knowing that it would in the future complicate things; he didn’t know any better; he had attended school up to Grade 3, that’s all. )

Since we have 2 exact matches, the month (September) and the year (1940), we can eliminate 11 November 1939 as the real date of birth. In the first place, we know that it was only for record purposes.

Now, how do we decide which one of the 2 September dates is correct? By elimination. 1st, the handwriting on the wall (post) by Lakay Disiong is credible, so it’s 17 September. My father was an honest man, and straight. Since the paper used was Grade 5 paper, it must have been written in 1951 or 1952, when I was Grade 5 or Grade 6, or only 11 or 12 years after I was born. I don’t doubt the accuracy of my father’s recall. Circumstantial evidence also points to this date.

How do you explain the church record that differs by 5 days? Easy. 17 September 1940 was a Tuesday; 22 September was a Sunday. In those days, the priests, probably Spanish, were fearsome as they would bring down fire and brimstone on the unbelievers for any perceived sin of commission or omission. Since the village of Sanchez was more than 2 kilometers away from the town proper where the church was, and since in those days, 70 years ago, the only transportation was either the back of a carabao or an open wooden cart pulled by that carabao, going to town just to report a birth was a self-flagellation. Solution: Report the birth on Sunday, when you go to church and hear mass. Problem solved! To avoid the fire and brimstone, Lakay Disiong lied and said that the baby had been born that day, 22 September 1940. To be sure, it was a moral sin, but it also made sense.

In those days, no baby could be baptized with a name other than from that of a saint that appeared on that date on the Roman Catholic calendar. And yes, in that calendar, there is a saint by the name of Francisco on 17 September; actually, it’s St Francis of Assisi. That should be the final argument on which birthdate is correct. That shy and smart little boy was named after one of the greatest saints of the Roman Catholic Church. You should be so lucky!

And yes that that shy little boy grew up as quietly as he could, and when he was about 57 years old, he vowed to share his wealth (many talents) to the world by distributing (writing about) what in essence the Prayer of Saint Francis is all about; here is a version as it appears in ewtn.com that I have never encountered before (I like it):

Prayer of Saint Francis of Assisi
Lord, make me a channel of thy peace,
that where there is hatred, I may bring love;
that where there is wrong,
I may bring the spirit of forgiveness:
that where there is discord, I may bring harmony;
that where there is error, I may bring truth;
that where there is doubt, I may bring faith;
that where there is despair, I may bring hope;
that where there are shadows, I may bring light;
that where there is sadness, I may bring joy.
Lord, grant that I may seek rather
to comfort than to be comforted;
to understand, than to be understood;
to love, than to be loved.
For it is by self-forgetting that one finds.
It is by forgiving that one is forgiven.
it is by dying that one awakens to Eternal Life.

Even if itself the real source of the prayer is questioned by some people (Wikipedia)

So, there’s no question; it’s settled: The real birthday is 17 September 1940.

But we’re not finished. Still, we’re sure that that’s Francisco Agapito Hilario, which I claim to be me, but not sure that that’s Frank Agapito Hilario, which I also claim to be me. Mistaken identity? The National Statistics Office will not accept that Francisco Agapito Hilario is one and the same as Frank Agapito Hilario even if they have the exact same parents, even if Frank Agapito Hilario said so.

Never mind the NSO. We go back to Grade 1 in the year 1940. When that shy little boy Francisco was in Grade 1, he found that he could not write his name in full on just one line of the ruled Grade 1 paper. Francisco Hilario was too long. So Lakay Disiong talked to Mrs Bautista and asked if that boy could simply use the shortened name “Frank” instead of “Francisco,” and Mrs Bautista agreed, bless her soul. My father wanted to honor his American soldier friend named Franklin, nicknamed Frank.

And that would be me: Frank Agapito Hilario, born 17 September 1940, unofficially. So, I’m 70, unofficially.

I don’t want to change the records officially because it would take a row of headaches before I could become 100% what I claim to be, birthday included.

And it’s triple fun if you can celebrate 3 birthdays, don’t you think, even if you had only 1 gallon of ice cream to celebrate each time? We can’t thank God enough. To thank God for the day from one year to another is a privilege for me, a blessing, even if I have to remember to say “Thank you” 3 times and be sure which day in 3 different weeks: a Tuesday in September, a Sunday in September, and a Saturday in November! What if I lost count of the days? That wouldn’t matter. I would not be counting the days; instead, I would be counting the blessings.

Mai Mislang sucks? Think of Frank H’s Hierarchy of Insults

2010-11-08T21:19:00.001+08:00

MANILA - Talk is cheap. A million words have been said against Assistant Secretary Carmen “Mai” Mislang who tweeted about the wine that the Vietnamese hosts served Philippine President Benigno “Noynoy” Aquino and his entourage: “The wine sucks.” Should she have more clearly joked about it instead and said something like, “I didn’t enjoy the wine, neither did our Vietnamese hosts. Fair enough!”

Mai wrote the words that suck on Twitter and, on being served wine that sucks, should I say to her? “Serves you right!”

I don’t do Twitter, and I don’t care. Twitter encourages you to do one-liners that you don’t have to think about - and that’s what happened to Mai. A tweet is easy to misunderstand because it stands out, out of context. Now she has to think about it in context 24/7.

Mai had written other Vietnamese tweets, and about them, James Cordova says (asiancorrespondent.com): “There was a sense of entitlement, even arrogance, in Mislang’s messages that rubbed people the wrong way.” James, I don’t think so, no. “Sori, walang pogi dito” and “Crossing the speedy motorcycle-laden streets of Hanoi is one of the easiest ways to die” (Tess Bedico, 30 October 2010, journal.com.ph). Mai is joking, for God’s sake.

And James says, “In the final analysis, Mislang did not offend the Vietnamese - she offended Filipinos.” The over-sensitive Filipinos, yes, James.

Conrado de Quiros calls Mislang’s tweets “tasteless” (cited in jns4fils.blogspot.com). Some people don’t have a sense of humor, I see.

F Sionil Jose writes, “I am appalled at the stupidity of this Malacañang functionary who insulted her Hanoi hosts last fortnight by tweeting ‘the wine sucks!’” Manong, watch your blood pressure.

They are on a state visit; Noynoy is guest of Nguyen Minh Triet at the Banquet Hall of the Government Guesthouse (Delon Porcalla, 30 October 2010, philstar.com). Mai being a speechwriter is with the President, and they are served red and white wines. And the wine sucks. Really.

While I don’t admire him personally, and I don’t subscribe to his politics, I admire Senator Gringo Honasan for calling a spade a spade, referring to the hullabaloo about Mislang’s comments “over-reaction” (Maila Ager, 02 November 2010, inquirer.net). Gringo says, “It’s an impression of a young lady. Hindi na dapat palakihin ito.” We shouldn’t be making it bigger than that.

Of course the Vietnamese are more gentlemen than some of our Filipino gentlemen and are not offended by the tweet, “The wine sucks.” Mai does not tweet, “The wine is inferior” because that would be an insult; she would be clearly rating the wine 2 out of 5 stars. “The wine sucks” is relative, ambiguous - what sucks to her may not suck to you.

“Sucks” is rather a mild statement; “the wine sucks” means “it’s a disappointment” and nothing more than that. If you feel offended by the statement “the wine sucks,” I say your English sucks. Don’t you notice? Carmen “Mai” Mislang, UP graduate, PhD, cum laude, knows her English idiom. You should too.

It’s an insult if you say, “The wine sucks. I’d rather have a beer.” And definitely if you say, “The wine sucks and the wafers are dry” and you are referring to the wine and the bread coming off the altar during a celebration of a Roman Catholic mass.

It’s not an insult if you say, “The wine sucks and the conversation is getting nowhere.” You’re just being funny. Or, “The wine sucked ... and now I have this worst hangover in years.” You’re joking.

“The wine sucks,” Mai Mislang tweets. She is referring to the red wine. “The white’s fine,” she tweets again (magnustoday.net). So, she’s not trying to damn the wines served as a whole, or the reception in general. It’s an innocent remark as far as I’m concerned. It’s like if I say, “Your idiom sucks” and it’s just a statement of fact, no offense meant. If at all, she insults the wine.

“The wine sucks” is a polite way of saying the wine is unacceptable; and no, it doesn’t really sound offensive. It is said offhand, not in a moment of hate or intense displeasure. Some people are just making a mountain out of a molehill.

It would really have been offensive if Mai Mislang said, “8 things that suck about the wine they served at the Vietnamese Guesthouse,” and then she proceeded to enumerate 10 of them!

“C++ sucks.” I don’t like that programming language myself, but saying that is not that offensive, is it? “Tagalog sucks,” say I, an Ilocano. That’s not as unpleasant to hear as if I say, “Tagalog stinks.” To say, “’Batman Begins’ sucks” is not like you’re saying, “The whole idea of Batman sucks.” “Nothing sucks like that red wine last night.” That would really have been insulting.

To clear the air of pollution by language, I think that it’s time for the diplomats and non-diplomats like you to learn what I have just invented for a happy wine-drinking session on any occasion; I call it The Hierarchy of Insults, and it’s applicable especially when you’re drinking red wine in a group - or in a foreign country – especially with people who speak English that leaves much to be desired.

Frank H’s Hierarchy of Insults goes like this, from the lowest to the highest level: Annoyance > Put-Down > Insult > Outrage > Attack. Here’s the legend of those 5 levels of insults:

Annoyance - You’re not happy with the wine; you want to say something to disturb the equanimity of your host but you don’t really want to say what you mean. You say something like, “The wine sucks.” You can say it in a whisper, as in a tweet. Nobody understands it really; it’s an American slang, and who cares about American?

Put-Down - You’re annoyed enough because you think the wine is lower in quality than you have expected, so you say something like, “The wine stinks.” Somebody is bound to understand or check with someone who knows what you mean by such a remark. You really mean what you say.

Insult - Your temperature is rising and you can’t mince words anymore. You say something like, “The wine is bad.” You emphasize the last word. Everybody understands a voice that is loud.

Outrage - You’re really angry. You say something like, “The wine is terrible!” You not only emphasize the last word, you also scream it. Everybody trembles at your roar.

Attack - You’re mad with rage, but you don’t say anything - you simply vomit on the wine.

The drink’s on me. Red wine, anyone?

The genius of C90. A revolution in creative writing

2010-11-01T07:27:00.001+08:00

MANILA (30 October) - “Creative writing,” did you say? Today, suddenly it came to me the reason why in the United States and elsewhere, after 100 years of creative writing attempts, theorizing, teaching courses in the universities, handling classes every which way, conducting workshops here and there, offering tutorials online and offline, despite creative writing books selling millions of copies worldwide, we don’t have 100 x 100 people in the arts writing widely known and cherished original & gorgeous poems, inventive & rich short stories, imaginative & magnificent novels, ingenious & heavenly biographies, dynamic & sparkling autobiographies, regenerative & dazzling histories and the like. In fact, many bestsellers in fiction (including sci-fi) are imitations of other bestsellers, and many non-fiction authors are imitating themselves. Where have all the learners gone?

And the number of creative writers in the sciences? I can count on the fingers of my hand the artistic science writers. I must say, for one Stephen Hawking is creative, even if I disagree with his support of the Big Bang Theory and I have my own Bang Big Theory (see my “Big Bang Stephen. Hawking’s Hierarchy of Gods,” 05 September 2010, American Chronicle).

I write in the arts and sciences. In this connection, I must mention that I just turned 70, and began creative writing in the arts earnestly in college as a section editor in the student newsletter Aggie Green & Gold in 1959 at the College of Agriculture of the University of the Philippines at Los Baños, Laguna. In college, I had a dream of writing The Best Filipino Short Story, but I lost my way; in fact, I got kicked out of UP (not to worry, I was readmitted). Right now, I’m in the last revision of the 19th and last chapter of my 250-page book on Charice, the Asian singing sensation, the “Concert Princess of Asia” (check out if you wish “Charice newly crowned ‘Concert Princess of Asia,’” 27 October 2010, American Chronicle). If you want to check out how creative I can be in writing a biography of a singer, check out my dedicated blog, Pinoy Cinderella (pinoycinderella.com). Creative, I saw in Charice her comparative advantage as a live performer that no journalist saw. Creative, I extracted 18 lessons for aspiring singers from the life of Charice (check out my “Go Charice! 18 Creative Lessons To Singing Stardom,” 23 July 2010, American Chronicle). Creative, I also have humor throughout my Charice book. Like, I say, “Charice can buy a house for a song.”

My creative writing in the sciences began in 1975 at the Forest Research Institute, FORI, also based in the University Town of Los Baños, when I founded, edited, and wrote for the FORI monthly popular-language newsletter Canopy and the quarterly color magazine Habitat that I designed after the US National Geographic (and I said so in the first issue). Creative, in 2009 I wrote a complete manuscript of 100 pages of an original book with the title Word Publishing and the subtitle Theory & practice of Word 2003 as a quick 2-in-1 word processor-desktop publisher designed for everyone. Creative, I had glimpsed in Word 2003 its comparative advantage as a practical and efficient desktop publisher that no one had seen. As if to prove my point, I authored, edited, and desktop published using Word 2003 my books that were eventually printed in India by the International Crops Research Institute for the Semi-Arid Tropics, ICRISAT, 3 of them, out in 2007, 2009 and 2010 (for my Charice book, I have graduated to Word 2010 as my desktop publisher). In 2009, I finished my manuscript of 197 pages for my book UP! ROTC2, which is in honor of the UP Vanguards, selected Vanguards (including President Ferdinand E Marcos). I started my environmental journalism, ejournalism also last year (check out iNews Earth, Blogspot).

And no, I did not study creative writing under anyone except myself, lucky me, thank God! I’m a self-taught writer, editor, and desktop publisher - and PC user, a wonk. I read, take note of the theory, and practice what I can. Practice makes perfect, but there must be theory first. Thus: Creative thinking must come first before creative writing. And if you’re better, the PC is the best device for creating before writing.

If indeed what university professors in the United States claim is creative writing, why are there no courses in creative writing in the sciences? Why only creative writing in poetry, fiction (short stories, novels, science fiction), non-fiction (histories, biographies, autobiographies), drama, essays and such?

The 3 greatest influences in my creative writing life of 45 years so far occurred 1st in 1956-1957 when I came across the Reader’s Digest and I was enamored with it; 2nd in 1965, when I came across the Readability Formula as well pieces of productive advice of Rudolf Flesch contained in his pocketbook How to Write, Speak and Think More Effectively (Harper, New York 1960) (thanks to Manny Alkuino for the gift of a copy), and 3rd in 1975, when I came across Edward de Bono’s concept of lateral thinking and his “Po” device for brainstorming in his pocketbook The Mechanism of Mind (Penguin Books, London, 1969) (thanks to Orlino Ochosa for the gift of a copy). Since then, I have reached that creative stage where, I joke, I’m so original I can’t imitate myself.

The day’s insight that came to me was this:
The problem with creative writing is creative writing.

Itself. Creative writing professors and facilitators teach that creative writing begins with being a writer and not that it begins with being creative, literally and figuratively. They don’t teach that as theory, but they certainly practice it. They do it like this, much too seriously:

In a class or workshop, you have to show that you are a writer first before someone teaches you how to become a creative writer. And then the professor or facilitator asks the whole class or group to criticize each other’s writings.

Are they kidding?! That, my dear friends, is definitely teaching not creative writing - that is definitely teaching critical writing! The double sin there is that they are asking amateur writers to judge other amateur writers - a crime against humanity.

And even in the case of a panel of authors judging the works of student writers, the story is the same - they are teaching critical writing and not creative writing. A sin against God, who is the author of creativity, who showed man that it must be creativity first before anything else. Without creativity, there is only the formless void and the darkness that covers the face of the deep, to borrow from Genesis 1: 2 (NRSV). Without creativity, there is no light for us to see that what has been created is good. Without creativity, you’re simply boring.

Now then, bad creative writing workshops should be stopped, poor creative writing programs should be junked, inefficient creative writing fellowships should be cancelled, and erring creative writing books should be banished from the shelves.

Except Flesch’s Readability Formula and pieces of advice on creative writing, speaking, and thinking, De Bono’s lateral thinking and Po technique, Ray Bradbury’s word association, and Tony Buzan’s mind-mapping, and maybe Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way, all creative writing starts on the wrong foot forward, the worst foot forward - critical, not creative. And when critical comes, can discouragement be far behind?

In short, your creative writing guru may be teaching you along the lines of genius that Thomas Alva Edison defined thus: Genius is 10% inspiration and 90% perspiration. Translated in numeric terms, genius is I10 + P90.

Look at my photograph again. Simply said, photography is light and shadow. L50 + S50. I read that somewhere about 42 years ago when I was teaching at Xavier University in Cagayan de Oro City and was ransacking its rich library for art books, to teach myself a deeper art of photography. My image is to provide a distinct contrast, as truly creative writing is much unlike creative photography. In photography, light must occur at the same time with the shadows; in creative writing, you must first separate the creative process from the writing process.

That’s why I said we need a revolution in creative writing. A 180-degree paradigm shift from: “Writing first, Creative second.”

Frank H says, “Creative first, Writing second.” Remember, even in the dictionary, Creative occurs first long before Writing. In everyday life, Sun first before Shape - there is no shape in the dark.

I’ll call what I’m thinking of as The Genius of C90 Revolution, based on my redefining Edison’s genius this way: Genius is 90% inspiration and 10% perspiration. I90 + P10. Edison was wrong. Thus, my #1 Lesson in Creative Writing is this:

Creative writing is 90% inspiration and 10% perspiration. Creative 90% + Writing 10%, C90 + W10.

My AIDA. Your iPOD: Inclusive Profit-Oriented Development

2010-10-15T04:34:00.001+08:00

MANILA - Right away, let me arouse your interest and titillate your fancy by telling you I have a seductive girlfriend named AIDA and we excitingly share a common and passionate Hierarchy of Desire. You should be so lucky!

AIDA is involved in marketing, as women usually are. She has to do with what some people call “Hierarchy of Readiness” (answers.com) and “Hierarchy of Effects” (drypen.in). With AIDA, you have to be on top of any hierarchy.

If you are into corporate planning, I may have news for you. Now then, if you are in Bangladesh, or India, or the Philippines, or Zimbabwe; if you are into research for development, R4D; and if you have a corporate plan, Corp Plan that you would like to market to your own staff, sponsors, allies public and private, and to the masses via the mass media, I may have good and free counsel for you:

Advice #1: Get AIDA going for you.

Remember, your new Corp Plan is a new product. It needs to be marketed inside and outside of your select group, and for that purpose, I may know some things you don’t, starting with AIDA.

But first, to establish some credibility, let me tell you that in the last 35 years, I have been and/or still am:

(a) a founder of 3 institutional publications - a quarterly technical journal (Sylvatrop), a monthly newsletter (Canopy), a quarterly color magazine (Habitat) that made an unknown local institute into an internationally respected one within 5 years - that would be the Forest Research Institute from mid-1975 to mid-1980 BC (Before Computers).

(b) a writer on science from the sea to the soil to the tree - from the International Center for Living Aquatic Resources (now WorldFish) to the University of the Philippines Los Baños to the Forest Research Institute (now Ecosystem Research & Development Bureau).

(c) an editorial adviser of thesis students from bachelor to doctorate degrees, from agriculture to cultural anthropology.

(d) an editor of several books written and published by others.

(e) Editor in Chief of a technical journal that I made up-to-date within 4 years, from being late 3 years, and immediately after that put it in the international elite list called ISI (now referred to as Web of Knowledge) - that would be the Philippine Journal of Crop Science published by the Crop Science of the Philippines based at UP Los Baños.

(f) author of 3 popular science books published abroad - by the International Crops Research Institute for the Semi-Arid Tropics.

(g) by vocation, a teacher, having graduated with a Bachelor of Science in Agriculture, major in Ag Education from the College of Agriculture of the University of the Philippines 45 years ago.

(h) by avocation, a creative writer, which matches as well as is nourished by my eclectic interests in reading and wanting to contribute my talent to development.

(i) an inveterate blogger - try googling for “frank hilario” without the double quotes and you should get at least 500,000 or half a million results, English pages only with strict filtering.

Having known and applied quite a number of theories of communication over many decades, I now recommend that for marketing your Corp Plan, you borrow from the success of sales people with what they call the linear Hierarchy of Readiness, the famous AIDA:

Awareness
Interest
Desire
Action.

That’s what I call the Hierarchy of Desire. In fact, it should be written out like this, to show the steps, to show what’s the highest level of desire, to imitate Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs:

Action
Desire
Interest
Awareness.

We are borrowing the original 1898 idea of AIDA from Elias St Elmo Lewis, American pioneer in advertising and sales. In explaining and defending his AIDA theory, Lewis said that “the most successful salespeople followed a hierarchical, 4-layer process using the 4 cognitive phases that buyers follow when accepting a new idea or purchasing a new product” (ANN, provenmodels.com). Perfect for our purpose.

Advice #2: Get the 4 Cs working for you.

If you want to know exactly where I’m coming from, it’s C4D, or communication for development. I write to support development; I don’t imagine myself apart from that growth process, as the mass media do in the Philippines and abroad.

In C4D, I consistently use the 4 Cs as my guide in marketing ideas; that is to say, I believe that any piece of communication must be Comprehensive, Coherent, Concise, and Clear. Comprehensive - not complete (has everything there is to know) but has the essentials. Coherent - ideas flow from one to the other rather smoothly. Concise - not condensed but brief enough. Clear - understandable by the layman, not heavy with technical jargon. Aha! Computerese is the most glaring example of such language; most of those writing about computers and the Internet don’t mind if their readers understand them or not.

The 4 Cs take care of the Content; what about the actual Messages themselves? That calls for AIDA.

It is important that C4D provide the stimulus in each phase so that the process ends up with someone accepting a new idea or buying a new product. AIDA is “a practical sales tool” (Gordon Torr, 18 August 2010, inthemaze.co.uk). On my part, I accept AIDA as the theory of everything in communication. Including communicating a consciousness, paradigm, knowledge and technology.

AIDA for C4D. In other words, at 4 different stages in communication, the messages are 1st, to increase Awareness of the product or service; 2nd, to push Awareness into the next stage, Interest; 3rd, to push Interest into Desire, which automatically leads to the 4th stage, Action.

The practice of AIDA

That’s theory. What we need now is practice, application of the theory. Now, I just happen to have enough materials for it, drawn from the real world, adapted for our C4D exercise.

My favorite institute of research for development, R4D, has just come out with its corporate plan, Corp Plan, up to 2020. Now R4D wants its Corp Plan to be accepted and internalized by its staff before it attempts to “sell” it to its partners in R4D, public and private - and then to the mass media.

As it turns out, the corporate strategy is inclusive profit-oriented development, iPOD. Inclusive of the very poor, inclusive of climate change - especially the factor of drought. R4D wants the poor villages in the drylands of Africa and Asia to help themselves through the concept of the iPOD, which calls for connecting the villagers to available and affordable resources for production, and finally to the markets of their produce, to avoid the middlemen and become the middlemen themselves, the profits of marketing going to the producers as marketers. My suggestion: Women make the best marketers.

Since it’s a Corp Plan, it must have a Vision, Mission, and Strategy. The Vision is the desired common future. The accomplishment of the Mission is meant to bring about the fulfillment of the Vision. The iPOD is the Strategy to carry out the Mission.

To avoid putting the cart before the horse, we must come out first with the Vision. So, what’s the Vision for R4D? I’ll volunteer a meaningful one: A house for every home in every village.

A home is not a structure but a family, a household, where everyone ideally loves and respects each other. Or, more simply, a home is with whom you’re always accepted, no matter who you have become. A house is an enclosure with walls, and a floor or two, where the home dwells and is protected from the elements. The house in that Vision is neither a hovel nor a palace, but a respectable place of abode, owned by the residents themselves, with locally available and affordable facilities and amenities.

So how is that Vision to be brought to reality? We need a Mission for R4D. And I volunteer this Mission: Cultivate public-private partnerships.

The Strategy of course is to: Create inclusive profit-oriented enterprises for families in the whole village.

Now comes the marketing of the Corp Plan itself, to 3 sectors: (a) within the R4D institute itself, (b) among public-private partners, and (c) the mass media. So now you work out things with AIDA. Remember, the most important and interesting thing in the Corp Plan is the iPOD.

(a) AIDA within the R4D institute

Now then, like Apple’s iPod, our iPOD must be sold to the initial target consumers, in this case the leaders and staff of our favorite R4D institute. They cannot market to others outside the institute what they don’t know anything about.

For Awareness: The message is that there is a new Corp Plan for the R4D institute, and it can be summarized in 2,000 words, about 4 to 5 pages. Subsequent Awareness messages can explain the Corp Plan bit by bit based on the summary, so it has to be a good summary: Comprehensive, Coherent, Concise, and Clear.

For Interest: So, how does the Corp Plan affect institute relationships with you as top management? With you as middle management? As staff? As rank and file?

For Desire: What does the Corp Plan mean in terms of success for the institute? What’s in it for you?

For Action: List down the corporate expectations from each employee of the institute. And the expectations of the employees from the institute based on the Corp Plan.

I suggest a workshop of 4 half-day AIDA sessions for the staff of your institute.

(b) AIDA among the public-private partners

After that, the target buyers of your iPOD are your public-private partners in R4D. How do you convince them of the value of the iPOD?

I suggest, among other things, a brochure of 4 parts, the design of which you must consider what you already know: AIDA. Reminder: It must also be written and designed to follow the 4 Cs; it must be Comprehensive, Coherent, Concise, and Clear.

Awareness: What’s the iPOD all about, and how can it relate to you as a local government unit? As a donor? As a private firm?

Interest: How can you accommodate the iPOD in your operations as a local government unit, donor, private firm?

Desire: If you were actively involved, what benefits can the iPOD give you as a local government unit? As a source of funds? As a private firm?

Action: Visit places in Africa or Asia where the iPOD is now actually working for the benefit of the poorest of the poor villagers in the drylands.

(c) AIDA for the mass media

Your next targets for your iPOD are the mass media. They are the ones who will bring your message(s) to the masses not economically reachable by you alone.

For Awareness: Release the summary of the Corp Plan as initial offering to the mass media. Let them create their own stories out of that material.

For Interest: Point out successful examples of iPOD in practice in Africa, India, Vietnam, Thailand, and China.

For Desire: Invite some media people to those iPOD places. Produce videos and podcasts of those iPOD places for release to radio and TV stations as well as the Internet.

For Action: Create a handful of media awards for outstanding performance in the interest of the concept of the iPOD.

Advice #3: Get a clearinghouse working for you.

So, how do you organize your Think Tank for C4D to market your Corp Plan? You may or may not need a Think Tank, but I’m sure you will need a clearinghouse. You don’t have to call it a clearinghouse, but it must be a system in place that handles the input, throughput and output.

You will of course use any combination of media yourself to reach the mass media outside of your institute: dedicated website, intranet, blogs, social media, email, videos, audios, online newsletters, media releases, thought-outs etc. The more you need a clearinghouse.

Now then, consider:
What specific parts of the overall message goes to where?
Are we in the Interest stage yet?
Do we need humor or what?
What about dramatizing actual experiences?
Don’t we have too many testimonials already?
Show, don’t tell!
What’s the latest feedback?
Why do we spend 2 weeks producing each issue of the newsletter?
Who will blog?
What language, what style?
Who will check on the translations?

Your clearinghouse will put some order to the madness. And I don’t think your clearinghouse can work out well if it’s ad hoc, improvised, impromptu.

Learn from Philippine President Noynoy Aquino - he has a clearinghouse for communication: 1st part to receive, 2nd part to process including do research, 3rd part to release. In governing the country as well as in marketing knowledge, you have to get your act together.

Population’s a lot of bull. Education’s a lot of bull sheets

2010-10-11T23:02:00.001+08:00

MANILA - “A baby is God’s opinion that the world should go on,” Carl Sandburg says. Statistics is Man’s opinion that the mathematics of it should be reconsidered. “Be fruitful,” God said. “But not multiply,” Man said. Man has taken God out of the equation.

Yes to reproductive health? It so happened that on my birthday last year, Noynoy Aquino was pronounced “definitely pro-RH” (I’m definitely not) - but on 01 February 2010 at the ABS-CBN News Channel’s Youth Forum (debate) at the De La Salle University in Manila, presidentiable Noynoy was talking about “responsible parenthood” debating with himself, saying he wanted “Filipinos to be educated on the various methods of family planning and be free to choose which method they prefer” (ANN, pinoyexchange.com). That’s like saying we need a new law to educate the masses; what’s the matter - the mass media can’t be trusted?

In the same Manila youth forum early this year, presidentiable Manuel Villar was delightfully more logical:

A well-managed economy would be able to provide (for) a big population, the kind of life that they want. Huwag natin gawing batas. Dapat ang pamahalaan ang mag-ayos ng ekonomiya. Let’s not legislate it. It’s the government who should work out the economy.

Manny Villar’ politics is the politics of addition; Noynoy Aquino’s politics is the politics of subtraction. I like addition. Addition is constructive; subtraction is destructive.

In fact, Noynoy Aquino was co-author of the Senate version of the RH bill (ANN, 16 September 2009, ucanews.com). ANN says:

The bill, last discussed in the Senate on May 5, provides for the creation of a National Policy on Reproductive Health funded by the state. This would include maternal health-care services, family planning supplies and services, and mandatory reproductive health and sexuality education beginning in fifth grade.

“He (Noynoy Aquino) recognizes that we have a population explosion” (Cocoy, 17 March 2010, thepoc.net). I recognize that perception, but where’s the scientific proof of that explosion?

On her part, beauty queen Ms Gemma Araneta (mb.com.ph) writes that the government cannot achieve the GNP “that can cope with unplanned, wanton population increase.” Ms Gemma, when the population of the Philippines was only 25 million, were we all rich and none was poor? When the population became 50 million, did we become half-rich and half-poor? Now that we are 100 million, are we now 10% rich and 90% poor? Please don’t reduce life to mere mathematics.

Gel Santos Relos says (typepad.com): “What the Catholic Church can’t do is to use force or intimidation to hold hostage the very same right of Filipinos of different faith - the right to choose according to their own conscience.” Frank H: And isn’t force or intimidation that which the RH bill wants to do to people? Choose contraception or else!

Ms Relos says, “The right to choose according to their own conscience” which birth control method to use - she is assuming that the people have been properly educated on “reproductive health.” And she is assuming that over-population is the problem, so population control is the solution. If you cannot describe the disease, you cannot prescribe the cure or treatment.

Ms Relos interviews Noynoy Aquino in his recent US visit: “Mr President, Most experts agree, particularly in developing countries, the key obstacle to economic prosperity is unbridled population growth.” My favorite lawyer Perry Mason would have immediately blurted out, “Leading the witness!” and the judge would have said, “Sustained!” That’s called a leading question; you are actually feeding him the answer you want from him. They must teach some law in journalism schools from now on.

Population growth: In 2000, the growth rate was 2.36%; this year, it is estimated at 1.9% (Carla Gomez, 05 March 2010, inquirer.net), which is not “unbridled population growth” by any stretch of the imagination. Ms Relos, you based your question on an assumption that “most experts agree” - Name me 2 experts! The Social Weather Stations and Pulse Asia?

Here’s my expert; here’s a population bombshell from the eminent economist Bernardo M Villegas, who says some people are making it appear that there is population explosion when in fact, “population statistics are being doctored” - for instance, they added 146,582 babies to the actual births in 2000 (19 September 2010, mb.com.ph):

The inflated figures that some gullible journalists unwittingly accept can mislead economic and social planners, including legislators who are pushing the RH bill and other population control measures on wrong and even deliberately doctored data.

More to the point, Villegas says undoctored statistics “clearly show that the Philippine population is no longer exploding but is following the trend observed in other countries, both rich and poor, where family attitudes have tended towards smaller family sizes resulting (in) graying/aging populations.” Those who are scared of the population bomb, he says, are victims of the “doctors of statistics.” “Figures don’t lie, but liars will figure,” Charles Grosvenor says (lucastxonline.com). Go figure!

Not satisfied? I will now present to you the highest expert in the land: President Benigno Aquino III. When he was running for President, what was his battlecry? “Kung walang corrupt, walang mahirap.” No corrupt, no poor. Get rid of corruption and you get rid of poverty.

Now then, for your votes, Noynoy Aquino was telling you that corruption was the #1 cause of the poverty of this country. And 40% of you voters elected him President, which means 4 out of 10 voters agreed with his claim, Noynoy Equation #1: Corruption equals Poverty. Here was a knight in shining armor to battle the corrupt. I’m glad it was the minority who was wrong.

Now Noynoy Aquino wants us to believe in Noynoy Equation #2: Population equals Poverty. It’s the people who are the problem, not the corrupt. So, the majority was right in rejecting Noynoy Equation #1, as he himself has rejected it by coming up with Noynoy Equation #2. So, has the knight turned red out of embarrassment, or turned yellow out of discouragement?

Note that 60% of the total votes cast is a majority, not a minority. In other words, the majority of voters did not think that Noynoy was correct when he presented Noynoy Equation #1. And of course, the majority of voters are Roman Catholic. The majority is always right!

So now, Noynoy Aquino is getting rid of his big election issue of corruption by downsizing it?

But in fact, it seems to me that the advocates of reproductive health are emboldened by a sufficiency of funds (and fans) but suffer from insufficiency of facts and deficiency in logic.

On his part, Fr Ranhillo Callangan Aquino has “demanded that the Roman Catholic Church… be ready to convince the people - Catholics and non-Catholics alike - that the use of artificial means of contraception is not acceptable” (quoted by Val Abelgas, 06 October 2010, globalbalita.com). Fr Aquino, that is putting the cart before the horse. The issue is not whether contraception is not acceptable but whether contraception is the answer - and what, Fr Aquino, is the question? You did not ask, so I will: “Is over-population the main cause of poverty in the Philippines?” But before you answer that question, a prior question must be asked: “Can you prove that there is over-population in the Philippines today?”

I have 12 children - all from natural childbirth, the results of 1 marriage, 1 wife, zero extra-marital relationships, zero adoptions, zero multiple births, zero test-tube babies. I do not call it over-population; I call it family.

If those ladies and gentlemen of the Philippine Congress really believe in the wisdom of Noynoy Aquino as their President, they should instead file an anti-corruption bill. Since they have not done so, am I to believe that majority of the members of the current Philippine Congress do not buy the bull shit that corruption is the primary cause of poverty in this country?

Ms Relos: “The leaders of the Catholic Church … can and should use the pulpit, or whatever platform they want, to guide and enlighten their faithful followers in making the right and moral choice on this issue.” Frank H: I agree! And they have chosen the mass media as their multiple platform, so what’s your problem?

Fr Aquino: “The legitimacy of enactment is determined by its rational acceptability to all whom the law shall govern … If all that the Catholic Church can offer in opposition to the reproductive health bill is supposed argument drawn from its own reading of Scripture and the tradition of its teaching, that is argument that cannot be rationally accepted by other members of the Philippine political community who do not share our creedal premises.” In short, Fr Aquino is saying reason must prevail, not faith. Well, Fr Aquino, I have no faith in reason if it reasons out faith!

Not to be outdone, Representative Edcel Lagman says (quoted by Jess Diaz, 03 July 2010, philstar.com):

There is undeniable linkage between population and development because the issue on population directly affects human development indicators on health, education, food security, employment, mass housing, and the environment.

Mr Lagman, all what you’re saying is merely assertion; where is your scientific proof? In the United States where there is no “over-population,” are there no filthy poor, no hobos, no vagabonds, no beggars, no squatters, no unemployed; are they all healthy, educated, none is starving, all are housed, and is their environment invigorating?

Suppose the Reproductive Health bill is passed into law; suppose the budget for it is 5 billion pesos. But since Noynoy Aquino has not minded the corruption in government that he said existed and that he promised to get rid of once elected President, where does he expect the money to go?

Nancy Carvajal & Michael Lim Ubac say (inquirer.net) that a group of Catholics has “expressed support for the passage of the reproductive health (RH) law and disagreement with the bishops’ rabid opposition to it.”

That’s bad argumentation, or bad reporting. If they disagree with the bishops’ “rabid opposition” to the bill, what about the arguments of the bishops? They are only opposing the opposition, not arguing against the arguments.

Representative Arlene Bag-ao said in her letter to her President Noynoy Aquino that “the biggest stumbling block to a sober discussion of the RH bill is the refusal of some quarters to take the bill for what it truly is - a pro-life measure.” Is Ms Arlene telling me that the promotion of the use of a contraceptive pill is pro-life? That the promotion of the use of condom is pro-life? That distributing contraceptives in schools is pro-life?

Presidential Spokesman Edwin Lacierda says that when it comes to the number of children of a family, 2 is enough, 6 is too much (Evelyn Macairan & Delon Porcalla, 02 October 2010, philstar.com). Does that mean that the RH bill does not promote choice at all, only what its advocates choose to promote as the choice?

I said I have 12 children, all legitimate, biological. If you ask me if 12 is difficult, I will tell you yes. But not because I have the mentality of a beggar, or that I’m a lazy bone, or that I’m incompetent. To tell you frankly, when I took the competitive exam for Teachers in Pangasinan, I got a grade of 90.5%; the highest was a 90.6%, UP Los Baños vs UP Diliman, the 0.1% difference statistically insignificant. By the way, I don’t smoke, I don’t drink, I don’t womanize, I don’t gamble. I never did. With my talent, don’t you wonder why I have had to struggle to feed and educate my family?

The problem is not the population - it’s the education, dummy! I still am able to read the blanket statement of former Education Secretary Jesli Lapus that must have been painted on school walls all over the country (I saw it on my way to Roxas, Isabela; I saw it on my way to Legazpi City, Albay): “Edukasyon ang solusyon.” How can education be the solution when in 2009 alone, more than 900,000 college graduates were facing joblessness? (Rainier Allan Ronda, philstar.com).

Your Filipino education mentality explains your Filipino diaspora. It’s neither Joseph Estrada’s nor Fidel Ramos’ nor Cory Aquino’s nor Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo’s nor Benigno Aquino III’s failure to see that; it’s the failure of education officials since the first national educational curriculum was developed and promulgated - that of the University of the Philippines, in 1909 or thereabouts. Established by the Americans, of course. But we, especially UP, have not been better than the Americans when it comes to education. We have not seen beyond the white chalk and green blackboard and, in today’s high tech world, beyond PowerPoint. This is patent colonial mentality.

The problem with education is that it teaches only the value of education, looking for a job after school. It does not teach the value of entrepreneurship, creating a job and thereby creating jobs for others after training.

We have too many college graduates already! Too many diplomas, not enough business acumen. What we lack is access to resources to make a life for ourselves and others, to earn out of the sweat of one’s brow, or out of the ache of one’s fingers, or out of the brilliance of one’s ideas. The problem is that we are not entrepreneurs, and hardly anyone supports anyone else who wants to become an entrepreneur.

I’ll give you an example: the farmers. Why do the poor farmers remain poor? Because the market gobbles up the value they add to society; the middlemen stand between the farmers and better lives. And so I applaud the concept of the World Bank that it calls inclusive market-oriented enterprise - you must connect the farmers to the market so that they themselves benefit directly from that market. You must make the farmers entrepreneurs. But I applaud more the concept of the International Crops Research Institute for the Semi-Arid Tropics with its Team Captain & Director General William Dar, derived from the World Bank concept that it calls inclusive market-oriented development - IMOD covers all, the village, not just a few farmer families. You must make the whole village entrepreneurial.

Now therefore, instead of a reproductive health law, I call for a productive, entrepreneurial health law. We need to produce more people who are enterprising; we need a population explosion of entrepreneurs!

Love, Therese. A little practice goes a long, long way

2010-10-04T16:48:00.001+08:00

MANILA - Discovery News. Today, I realized I knew of a secret formula that shows how anyone of us at any time can practice the 7 Heavenly Virtues: chastity, temperance, charity, diligence, patience, kindness, and humility. You don’t believe me? Have some faith.

And all because yesterday my wife told me - actually, she asked me - to write a review of a book. That’s the first time she asked me in our 43 years of marriage. I mean, to review a book. I did my job, dutifully. I emailed it this morning to be published, hopefully, in the October issue of our Sandigan, the newsletter of our church group, the Bukás Lóob sa Díyos, BLD.

This is the revised version of that book review, and almost 3 times as long; this was prompted by the text of Neneng that said, “Wish I can have your patience and a bit of wisdom to cope with disappointment and frustration. Sometimes irritability is my worst enemy.” Actually, Neneng, we are our worst enemy. I just turned 70, so I should know that by now.

Neneng is in luck. As she will learn in a little while, she has the sympathy of one of the most beloved saints of all time. I just googled for "st therese" OR "little flower" OR "little way" OR "child jesus" OR "holy face" and got 3,190,000 results, English pages only, with strict filtering.

I didn’t know I would meet St Therese again this year. The 31st Manila International Book Fair came and went, 15-19 September at the SMX Convention Center, Mall of Asia, and for a gift to myself, I bought another copy of the New Revised Standard Version, NRSV. Am I doubly religious? No, but I’m a writer and the Bible is a good read, believe it or not, at least the New Testament, and I write about it. The older copy goes to my daughter Ela. And I’m Roman Catholic, so you know which edition I bought.

My wife bought some little books I didn’t care about; she bought one she didn’t know I liked; when she asked me to write a book review of it, I was like, “I thought you’d never ask!”

I had been, you might say, enamored with St Therese since I met her through a book a secular Carmelite in the Philippines kindly lent me: Story of a Soul: The Autobiography of St Therese of Lisieux. Since then, I had written 3 essays about Therese, all published in the American Chronicle: “The Audacity of Love. Henry David Thoreau meets little Therese of Lisieux,” 25 November 2008; “The Catholic’s Way. Road not taken in Creative Writing,” 29 April 2009; and “Little Flowers. St Therese of Lisieux & Charice,” 11 May 2010. I also have an unpublished manuscript, UP! ROTC2, 199 pages, in support of the renewing of the mind about ROTC - I remember I gave a preliminary copy to Defense Secretary Gilberto “Gibo” Teodoro when he was a guest speaker of the UP Vanguards in UP Diliman - and the final chapter is about 2 Carmelites: Therese of Lisieux and Luz Buhay-Lorenzo, who is the daughter of one who has been Commandant of the ROTC at the College of Agriculture of the University of the Philippines, a Vanguard.

St Therese has a message different from all the saints I knew, and I was glad to be writing about it again. Think about being asked to do what you would love to do!

The book I was to review had the title/subtitle Under the Torrent of His Love: Therese of Lisieux, a Spiritual Genius, written by Marie-Eugene of the Child Jesus, OCD. This copy was published in 2007 by St Pauls (Makati City, 158 pages). It’s an old book actually, but if it’s the truth, it’s ageless.

The original French manuscript was actually a transcription of audio tapes of informal lectures (not conferences as the book calls them) conducted by Father Marie-Eugene during retreats for priests at Notre Dame de Vie in September 1965.

St Therese of Lisieux, also called St Therese of the Child Jesus and the Holy Face, also St Therese of the Little Flower, is popular among Catholics but not her doctrine or theology - she had none! I mean, she did not have any scholarly presentation or did not write a treatise on understanding the mystery of Jesus, who was Christ. She had her “little way,” nothing earthshakingly spiritual, and that was all. But that exactly is why she is popular.

When John Paul II declared St Therese a “Doctor of the Church” in 1997, he signified her as “a model for Catholics that following the Gospel does not require great scholarship or learning, but rather, profound love” (Marilyn Hughes, 24 December 2008, suite101.com). Accepting, trusting love.

01 October is her Feast Day. She was born 02 January 1873 in Alencon, France. She was gifted. The book by Fr Marie-Eugene tries to explain her greatness, and I thank him, even if his book has too much theology for me.

The St Pauls’ translation to English from the original French was done by Sister Mary Thomas Noble OP; the French title was: Ton amour a grandi avec moi: Un Genie Spirituel Therese de Lisieux. I have a problem with that; her translation of “Ton amour a grandi avec moi” into “Under the Torrent of His Love” changes the subject, is a long way from the intent of the French; I believe my free translation “Your Love Grew with Me” is nearer the original sense, and I realize that (my) title sentence translation is a beautiful summary of the life of Marie Francoise Therese Martin, whom we know as St Therese, whose life was short - she died when she was only 24, on 30 September 1897.

Pope John Paul II said (vatican.va) of St Therese: her Carmel thoughts were “in providential harmony with the Church’s most authentic tradition, both for its confession of the Catholic faith and for its promotion of the most genuine spiritual life, presented to all the faithful in a living, accessible language.” Borrowing from beloved John Paul II, I say her Carmel acts are presented to all the faithful in her own living, doable language of love. His love can grow with me.

The personal title “St Therese of the Little Way” reflects St Therese’s single, simple contribution to the greatest concept the world has known: people loving people in every little way as they can - and should.

“My vocation, at last I have found it,” she exclaimed one time, “my vocation is Love!” (page 108). But how was this little girl in the Carmel convent to “love” when she could not love anyone, boy or girl?

My title translation “Your love grew with me” means she applied the love of God to everyday life in the convent of Carmel and thereby multiplied it a hundredfold on Earth. The book gives examples of Therese’s little acts of love, her little flowers offered to Jesus. Martin Barrack says (secondexodus.com), a little differently, “If she could not do magnificent deeds, she would do small deeds magnificently.”

The Society of the Little Flower says (littleflower.org):

The world came to know Therese through her autobiography, “Story of a Soul.” … She lived each day with an unshakable confidence in God’s love. “What matters in life,” she wrote, “is not great deeds, but great love.” Therese lived and taught a spirituality of attending to everyone and everything well and with love. She believed that just as a child becomes enamored with what is before her, we should also have a childlike focus and totally attentive love. Therese’s spirituality is of doing the ordinary, with extraordinary love.

Beautiful language, but I have another way of putting it. Therese was special in that she did the extraordinary thing with ordinary love. It’s a love you and I can give. To give you examples:

There was this Sister who was melancholy and she would overwork herself to drive away her sadness. In the evening, she would be very tired, and Therese could not comfort her because there can only be silence after Compline. Therese had an idea. She waited for her to pass by her cell and when she did, she gave her her beautiful smile. When Therese died, that Sister said, “Oh, that smile of Sister Therese! It seemed to me as if all my troubles vanished!” (page 52)

And there was this difficult Sister who wanted everything done her way all the way - sit like this, hold like that - that soon no Sister would volunteer to help her. Therese volunteered. She went to her and sat down very pleasantly. She held the needle exactly like she was told. Whenever she felt annoyed, Therese would give the Sister a beautiful smile! When Therese died, this Sister said, “Oh yes, Sister Therese was so kind, so good, so loving. As for me, I have no regrets in her regard, because whenever she worked with me, I always seemed to make her so happy.” In fact, Therese was trying to make this Sister happy. (page 53)

Therese did more for this difficult Sister. She noticed that with crippled hands, she had “difficulty … arranging the bread in her bowl” and she volunteered to do it for her (cjd.org). Not only that. In her own words, Therese said, “There was something even more important, though I only heard about it later; when I’d finished cutting her bread I gave her, before I left, my best smile.”

Therese was now handling the novices. “One day the novice provoked Therese for an entire morning, but never succeeded in making her lose patience. In the end, she threw herself at Therese’s feet: ‘How did you ever become so patient?’ Therese answered, ‘At first I was like you, but one fine day God picked me up and set me there.’ This was her whole secret: desiring perfection, she simply awaited this gesture of God, and he picked her up and set her there.” (page 29) God serves those who only stand and wait.

There is more where that came from.

When she was 10, her father Louis offered her sister Celine painting lessons, and then asked Therese if she wanted the same (traditioninaction.org). Her other sister Marie interjected that “Therese did not have the same gift for it as Celine.” Therese said nothing. Later, in her autobiography The Story of a Soul, she said, “I still wonder how I had the fortitude to remain silent.” You can if you will.

At the washroom of Carmel in Lisieux, one of the Sisters would splash her with dirty water while washing handkerchiefs. She said and did nothing. “This may seem very small, but the self-will is as well denied and curbed in small things as in great things, and sometimes more so when they go against the grain” (traditioninaction.org). You will if you will.

In my unsaintly way of putting it, Therese willed herself to love. She offered her little acts of love to God.

Marie-Eugene writes: “The God whom Therese discovered was the God of Love. At the same time, she saw that around her, and even in her Carmel, God was not known. The God who is Love was not known! They knew the God of Justice, quid pro quo, and they tried to acquire merits. But, thought Therese, this was not the way to win him. God is Love, God is Mercy. But what is Mercy? It is the Love of God which gives itself beyond all demands and rights.” (page 23)

In contrast, when Therese was very young, she was the “spoiled little Queen of her father” and she wouldn’t do housework; “she thought if she made the beds she was doing a great favor!” (catholic.org).

When she was a child, she did childish things; when she grew up, she put away all those. She was now thinking not of herself but of others: “The only way I can prove my love is by scattering flowers and these flowers are every little sacrifice, every glance and word, and the doing of the least actions for love” (Catholic Online, catholic.org).

She had discovered True Love. She had discovered “the science of love” (pathsoflove.com): “I understand so very well that it is only through love that we can render ourselves pleasing to the good Lord, that love is the one thing I long for. The science of love is the only science I desire.”

She had written:

“I understood that Love comprised all vocations, that Love was everything, that it embraced all times and that it was eternal! Then, in the excess of my delirious joy, I cried out, ‘O Jesus, my Love … my vocation, at last I have found it … my vocation is Love! Yes, I have found my place in the Church and it is You, O my God, who have given me this place; in the heart of the Church, my Mother, I shall be Love.” (pages 108-109)

It is not necessary that as a Christian you live a mystical life. It is necessary only that you live a practical life. You just have to practice love in every little way you can.

Looking at herself as being the “little flower of Jesus” among other little flowers in God’s garden is her analogy for ”little ways of holiness.”

Do you need a childlike attitude to practice love? No. Otherwise, seniors like us are hopeless! Yes, Therese love is achievable at any age.

“In all her duties she experienced that without love all works are nothing” (Fr Camilo Macisse OCD, helpfellowship.org). Did Therese live an ordinary life in Carmel? She did, and she did not.

Fr John Dear says (fatherjohndear.org):

Life in a (convent) is difficult. She dedicated herself to the daily practice of sacrificial love toward those around her, perfecting the art of responding to coldness, rudeness, gossip, and insults with active loving kindness and inner compassion. She aimed these small acts of unconditional love at Christ in the other person and for the redemption of the human race - a spirituality she called her “little way.”

Vilma Seelaus, OCD says (carmelitesofeldridge.org) Therese spoke “a language of littleness,” speaking of “little souls” and “a soul weaker and littler than mine” and “a legion of little Victims of Your Love!” In science and technology, I think this is not unlike Ernest Schumacher’s mantra, “Small is beautiful.”

Are you irritated? Learn from Therese! Do a paradigm shift. Like, there was one time (littleflowers.clubs.com):

During meditation in the choir, one of the Sisters continually fidgeted with her rosary, until Therese was perspiring with irritation. At last, “instead of trying not to hear it, which was impossible, I set myself to listen as though it had been some delightful music, and my meditation, which was not the ‘prayer of quiet,’ passed in offering this music to our Lord.”

Did you know? Therese at Carmel, ANN says, “was known for falling asleep during prayer hours in the chapel, but she noted that ‘God loved her even though she often slept during the time of prayer’” (sttherese.webhero.com). “The Church would recognize a profound and valuable teaching in ‘the little way’ - an awareness of one’s limitations, the wholehearted giving of what one has no matter how small the gift.” Like a smile.

In 1896, she coughed up blood, but she kept it a secret. A year later, she was so sick everyone knew. “Her pain was so great that she said that if she had not had faith she would have taken her own life without hesitation. But she tried to remain smiling and cheerful - and succeeded so well that some thought she was only pretending to be ill” (catholic.org). She died the next year.

Therese said, “I prefer the monotony of obscure sacrifice to all ecstasies. To pick up a pin for love can convert a soul” (americancatholic.org).

She also said, “We love God in the measure in which we practice it” (page 121). Her little way is doing a small thing with a little act of love. Like a smile.

Here is a little tip from Therese, quoted by TG Morrow (cfalive.org): “In the matter of practices, it is better to take on only what you think you can persevere in.”

Therese was not to be discouraged at all by her littleness, her imperfections, her faults. Paul Marie de la Croix says (ewtn.com):

Moreover, having learned from experience about this "motherly" goodness of God, and knowing that the smaller the child, the more it can count on merciful help and attentive care, Theresa intended to remain little, that is to say, she would no more be concerned about her powerlessness; on the contrary she would rejoice in it. "How happy I am to realize that I am little and weak, how happy I am to see myself so imperfect." She (did) not count on her works, or on her merits, she "(kept) nothing in reserve" and she (was) not to be discouraged even about her faults.

If I understand her right, Therese’s “Little Way” was not a way to Heaven; it was a way to Heaven on Earth. A spiritual genius? She was more a practical blithe spirit to me.

Canon Francis Ripley says (sttherese.com), “It is not easy to find one word in English which expresses exactly what St Therese of Lisieux regarded as the heart of her Little Way of Love.” Me, I’ll take Love anytime.

So, inspired by the little girl with her little way of love, let us all:

Go, go and will, will ourselves to practice love, love!

So, how do you practice the 7 Heavenly Virtues of chastity, temperance, charity, diligence, patience, kindness, and humility in a simple way? Practice love, for “love covers all (the multitude) of your offences” (Proverbs 10: 12, NRSV). How about praying unceasingly for these virtues to come to you? I don’t think that will help; virtues are DIYs, do-it-yourself things.

“I wanted to love, to love Jesus with a passion,” Therese said, “giving him a thousand proofs of my love while it was possible” (quoted by Ernest E Larkin, OCarm, carmelnet.org). While you live, it is possible.

So, can you do it? “St Therese’s ‘little way’ is cherished by millions of people around the world,” Stephanie Paulsell says (hds.harvard.edu), “because it is a way of holiness that anyone can pursue.” Anyone. “Love. More love.” Have a little more faith.

So, how are you going to start? You begin with this thought from the baby Jesus in St Therese’s Christmas play of 1894:

Don’t you know that faithful souls always give me consolation in the face of the blasphemies of the unfaithful by a simple look of love?

Well! Look at Therese again and start with a Mona Lisa smile.

17 September. To celebrate a birthday, get the message

2010-09-18T11:19:00.001+08:00

LOS BAÑOS, LAGUNA (17 September) - I was born today 70 years ago, and the whole town of Los Baños is celebrating; how do you like that?!

It’s 1213 hours 17 September as I begin to write this, and I just came back from watching the parade of people walking about at the town plaza by the shore of Laguna Lake, and taking some photos with my daughter Ela’s Exilim Casio Ex-S5.

The image you see shows the faces of the future in this University Town, which is indeed rejoicing that this day has come around once again. This is almost all girls; what happened to the boys? The boys are gathered to the right of the photo in the distance, preparing to climb the bamboo poles, each one with a prize at the top: PhP 2000 for 1st Prize, or about $45, certainly not peanuts in these parts. At the background is the stage; in the middle of the photo are a few hundred empty white seats - it’s 11 AM and it’s too hot to handle. In the afternoon, there will be a parade of beauties, and in the evening the winners.

How important have I become that a whole town celebrates on the day I was born?

Before I answer that, with credibility and in complete honesty, let me ask you: “Why do we celebrate birthdays anyway?” Quick answer: Sometimes, it’s the only one we can celebrate.

Today, I stepped into the conclave of septuagenarians, 70 to 79. I’m thankful, I thank God. I celebrate! The whole town of Los Baños celebrates!

Do I feel old? Age is in the mind. My mind is full of things about birthdays.

Why do we celebrate birthdays? Without saying how old he is, Sam Vaknin says (17 April 2006, buzzle.com):

Surely, as we grow older, we have less and less cause to celebrate. What reason do octogenarians have to drink to another year if that gift is far from guaranteed? Life offers diminishing returns: the longer you are invested, the less likely you are to reap the dividend of survival.

I will survive! The next thing I shall be is an octogenarian, 80 to 90. Right now, I don’t feel older. But let’s listen some more to Vaknin:

Thus, we are forced into the conclusion that (celebrations of) birthdays are about self-delusionally defying death. Birthdays are about preserving the illusion of immortality. Birthdays are forms of acting out our magical thinking.

Death? I shall not worry about death; I shall let death worry about me. I have more important things to do than dying, and they are infinitely more difficult! And there is the challenge, and the promise of the triumph.

I love that part about magical thinking. I’m a creative thinker after all. When I learned to relax quite a few years ago, when I learned to trust in God and forgive truly, I became more creative at 55 than at 45 than at 35.

At 70, “Your creative energies have not waned over the years,” long-time-no-see friend Nestor says, emailing me his wish for a Happy Birthday. “Tremendous outputs!”

Funny you say that, Nes. I have almost 400 long, expressive, eclectic, original, always frank, sometimes hilarious essays in American Chronicle alone; click the link and check me out: Frank A. Hilario. That’s an average of 2 essays every 3 weeks, and that’s only for the last 5 years appearing in 1 online publication.

I have 3 books published by the India-based International Crops Research Institute for the Semi-Arid Tropics, ICRISAT: Team ICRISAT Champions the Poor (2007, 128 pages), The Smart Revolution (2009, 154 pages), and Exploiting the Power of Science, Transforming the Semi-Arid Tropics (2010, 168 pages).

I am finishing my book on the international singing sensation Charice (new working title: Glee! Charice, 250 pages in layout - meanwhile, you can check out my dedicated blog, DreamsGirl Charice at blogspot.com where all the original essays going into the book are yours for the clicking).

I also have a 100-page layout of a book on word publishing (my coinage) that simplifies word processing and desktop publishing using only Word 2003 - I did it in 2009, and now we have Word 2010, which is even more powerful.

My outputs are not only in blogs and books. I have 2 unbreakable international records as an editor alone. As an almost one-man-band, with me personally using, hands-on as my desktop-publisher Word 2002 and then Word 2003 (try it, or me sometime), as Editor in Chief of the Philippine Journal of Crop Science, PJCS:

(1) In 2006 I made PJCS up-to-date, from being late 3 years (9 issues).
(2) In 2007 I made PJCS world-class, that is, accepted in the respected list of international publications, the Web of Knowledge (Thomson-Reuters), of old referred to as ISI (Information Sciences Institute), in the immediate past as ISI Web of Knowledge. (You can click the link and check me out here: Hilario’s Paper, also at blogspot.com.) Something for the Guinness Book of World Records I’m sure.

So, why shouldn’t I celebrate my birthday? I thank God I can celebrate my birthday!

We continue with Baknin:

By celebrating our existence, we bestow on ourselves protective charms against the meaninglessness and arbitrariness of a cold, impersonal, and often hostile universe.

And more often than not, it works. Happy birthday!

Actually, you create your meanings. If your life is meaningless, it’s because that’s what you made it. As a creative thinker, I create new meanings out of technical, sleepy materials, even out of old meanings. You can check me out in my other blogs at blogspot.com: FRANK A HiLARiO where I have almost 300 essays, my ICRISAT Watch where I have more than 100, and My Jose Rizal where I have more than 70.

Actually, it’s not a hostile universe. It may be dangerous, but not hostile. It’s hostile only when we think it is. That’s how our mind works. When we are hostile, we think of defense, like arming ourselves, like not going places. On the contrary, I have learned to let my guard down. That’s why I can celebrate my birthday even if there is no cake and no candles to blow, just some daughter Daphne-made tasty pasta and off-the-shelf ice cream from Nestle and Selecta, just half a gallon of each - already we have our mouths full and our hearts content. Celebrate with what you have should be the rule, and should be fun.

Paul Michael (08 February 2010, wisebread.com) thinks aloud: What if we celebrated our birthday only once every 10 years, until we hit 90? “Think of all the money that we wouldn’t have to spend.”

I’m looking forward to being 90. That’s being optimistic. Thinking of the money to save, that’s being Ilocano. I never celebrated my birthday with a birthday cake, not ever. When I was a child, I loved childish things, like the ginettaan (balls of cereal flour cooked with coco milk) was always the one I coveted for my birthday, or something I went for at somebody else’s birthday in the village of Sanchez in the sleepy town of Asingan, Pangasinan, Central Luzon, Philippines. On my birthday, ginettaan was always delicious, because Baket Satur, my mother, would not compromise on quality - the flour was always all pure diket (sticky white rice). Thank God for mothers who like it pure.

Why do we celebrate birthdays? I say, to gather family and friends to celebrate the life of the one born on that date. Chabad (23 July 2009, chabad.org) says more:

Birth is your beginning. It is … much more than an occasion to receive gifts. It is a chance to remember the day that a major event occurred, to celebrate and give thanks and to reflect upon how well we are fulfilling our calling.

That takes the cake out of my birthday celebration - on this day, I’m supposed to reflect whether or not I am fulfilling my mission in life? I don’t know. I just want to celebrate that I’ve accomplished even more, more so that I’m alive.

But Chabad is very insistent (source cited):

Because time itself is like a spiral, something special happens on your birthday each year. The same energy that God invested in you at birth is present once again. It is our duty to be receptive to that force. How do we do so? By committing to a life guided by God’s will, and by using the abilities and resources we were born with to perfect ourselves and society, and to make the world a good and sacred home for God.

If Chabad is correct, that takes the fun out of celebrating one’s birthday. When it’s your birthday, you have to be serious? Why can’t we be not serious once a year, especially on our birthday?

The same energy that God invested in me at birth is always present with me until the day I die, even when I turn bad. It is a different matter to acknowledge it, to be receptive to the force, to harness it for good.

Leading “a life guided by God’s will” - but do I know what is God’s will for me?

Okay, I will simplify my own answer to that question by quoting from my favorite chapter in the New Testament, Romans 12: 2: “that you may discern what is the will of God - what is good and acceptable and perfect” (New Revised Standard Version, Catholic Edition, St Pauls, 2006). In one word, I believe that the will of God for me and for all of us is: Love. I believe that that is the only one that is good and acceptable and perfect.

Ah, but love is the hardest thing to do; in fact, it’s impossible! How can you ever love your enemies?

Even so, I will agree that a birthday is the time to remember that our lives must be guided by God’s will. Tough act to follow.

And Chabad is not finished, referring still to the need for us to be “using the abilities and resources we were born with to perfect ourselves and society.” God, I was just trying to celebrate my birthday, and you remind that I am actually loaded with all those responsibilities? I have enough problems for the day thereof.

“To make the world a good and sacred home for God” - no, Lord Almighty, I can’t do that. I cannot change the world; after trying for 43 years, I know I cannot change even my family - I can only change me.

After trying to force me to change the world, Chabad insists:

A birthday is a time to celebrate birth itself, the joy of life. It is also an occasion to rethink your life: How great is the disparity between what I have accomplished and what I can accomplish? Am I spending my time properly or am I involved in things that distract me from my higher calling? How can I strengthen the thread that connects my outer life and my inner life?

On my birthday at 70, how can I reflect on the joy of life when I have to reflect on how much less I have accomplished and how much more I have yet to accomplish in my life?

The problem with the question of “higher calling” is that we are not taught about any calling in school; our parents don’t teach us, because they don’t know either; and the mass media teach us to enjoy high tech, not high calling. I wish God said early, clearly, “Don’t call us. We’ll call you.”

“Am I spending my time properly or am I involved in things that distract me from my higher calling?” I think the problem there is that Chabad is assuming that in your pursuit of your higher calling, whatever it is, you go at it hardheadedly alone. Chabad must be referring to personal salvation, as indeed he connects the outer life with the inner life. Well, Protestants are happy with the pursuit of happiness in personal salvation; we Roman Catholics will be happy to show you Protestants a higher calling than just the personal!

On celebrating birthdays, Oprah Radio host Rabbi Shmuley Boteach says (18 November 2008, oprah.com):

The virtues of youth are vitality and vibrancy, but the virtues of growing older are wisdom and experience. We have to remember that both age and youth have their virtues, and start loving birthdays once again.

I love celebrating - especially if I’m not spending for it.

We go back to the town fiesta that Los Baños is celebrating today on the day I was born. I’m not spending for it, not that I know of. The young, new Mayor, Anthony “Ton” Genuino, allocated PhP 3 million for the 3-day celebration, 17-19 September, a little bird told me. If you celebrate a birthday like Los Baños does, you have to spend that much.

When you celebrate, birthday or not, you do not celebrate for your sake only but for the sake of others, in this case, for the whole town and the many guests and visitors, not to mention the local and foreign staff that work in the headquarters of these local and international offices:

(1) ACB - Asean Centre for Biodiversity
(2) FPRDI - Forest Products Research Institute
(3) IRRI - International Rice Research Institute
(4) UPLB - University of the Philippines Los Baños
(5) ERDB - Ecosystem Research and Development Bureau
(6) PCAMRD - Philippine Council for Aquatic and Marine Research and Development
(7) LGA - Local Government Academy (Department of Interior and Local Government)
(8) SEARCA - Southeast Asia Regional Center for Graduate Study and Research in Agriculture
(9) PCARRD - Philippine Council for Agriculture, Forestry and Natural Resources Research and Development.

They’re all based in Los Baños, working. 3,000 warm bodies from those big offices alone? Even 2,000 are so many can-do-things people!

The fact that these big offices participate little institutionally in today’s celebration in Los Baños, not to mention in the everyday overall development of the town, merely reflects ignorance on both sides, public and private sectors, on the roles that they must play for the sake of society represented by the residents in the town of Los Baños. Been there, not done that! I worked 5-1/2 years for the Forest Research Institute (FORI, now ERDB), as Chief Information officer, and I don’t remember FORI ever involved in town planning and development with the local government of Los Baños. Time, initiative, money, energies wasted. (Do they pay their income taxes in Los Baños?)

Many people whom you consider important plainly ignore you. What then is there to celebrate a birthday for?

In fact, as Ray Hermann (1991, ffpc.com) says, the celebration of birthdays is frowned upon by some Christian organizations; “often cited as a reason for this attitude is the thought that only two instances of birthdays are mentioned in the Bible; both represented pagan situations and were related to the killing of people.” One is the hanging of the chief baker on the Pharaoh’s birthday (Genesis 40: 20-22); the other is the beheading of John the Baptist when Herod was celebrating his birthday (Matthew 14: 6-10).

The reasoning of those people against celebrating birthdays is this: If it is pagan in origin, it’s bad for you. That is silly. For instance, the pagans must have been the ones who thought of calling people names - and we love that people call us by our names. And don’t tell me that writing is pagan in origin just to make me feel bad. It is, and I love the pagans for it, especially that writing has graduated into the high-tech word publishing (my coinage) that Word 2010 gives me. I’m using it now to draft, revise and finesse my essays, such as this one, for the American Chronicle and my blogs.

Hermann argues that not because something has a pagan origin is it forbidden for Christians to practice. He cites Job and his sons as probably celebrating their birthdays, quoting The Living Bible: “Every year when each of Job’s sons had a birthday, he invited his brothers and sisters to his house for a celebration. On these occasions, they would eat and drink with great merriment.”

In point of fact, there is more than just the Pharaoh, Job and his children celebrating their birthdays. I am now going to borrow a device that the global-thinking American historian William Henry Scott borrowed from the local-acting Filipino historian Renato Constantino, his beautiful “history of the inarticulate” - meaning that you read between the lines of the history of the articulate. (For more details on this device, see William Henry Scott, “History of the Inarticulate, “ in Great Scott! The New Day William Henry Scott Reader, 2006, New Day Publishers, pages 463-473.)

I shall now demonstrate Constantino’s history of the inarticulate with the question of birthday celebrations in the Bible. If you come to think of it, it’s all very simple, reading between the lines:

That the Pharaoh, King Herod, Job and his sons were celebrating their birthdays indicates that birthday celebrations were widespread in those New Testament times. Even granting that those birthday celebrations were exclusive to the elite, only for the very rich and powerful, the celebration of a birthday was an acceptable custom; it had transcended its pagan origin as a ritual. By no means were the Pharaoh, King Herod, Job and his sons pagans. That the Bible does not mention Jesus Christ ever celebrating his birthday does not mean he did not celebrate it, or that he was against the practice.

So, where is the basis for the objection of some Bible-based groups that birthday celebrations are pagan in origin, that they are not biblical? Nowhere in the Bible does it say, “I am the Lord, thy God. Thou shalt not have strange gods before me, like birthday cakes and candles offered at the altar of display.” Or, “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s birthday party.”

In any case, I’m glad that, theoretically the whole of Los Baños is celebrating a big something on the day I was born.

Here’s the email I sent out with the subject, “Celebrate good times, come on! It’s my birthday” on 16 September:

Tomorrow, 17 September, is my birthday, and a whole town will celebrate: Los Baños. You are invited to listen to the speeches, watch the parade, dance with the boys and girls, and listen to what the new Mayor has to say. Every year, the town does that exactly on my birthday. Let's party!

And it’s all true.

I invited my email recipients, all 112 of them, to come to town, but note that I did not promise to meet any of them if they came. I could not.

The town is celebrating its town fiesta on 17 September but not because of me - it’s despite of me. This year, Los Baños is 395 years old, having been founded in 1615 by Franciscan friars (Rudy Fernandez, philstar.com). I should know. I studied at the UP College of Agriculture based in Los Baños in the 1960s and have been around somewhere since then. This town’s and my birthday just happened to be exactly the same, and I just couldn’t resist the joke.

Update, 18 September:

A good friend of mine took my party invitation to heart and traveled 63 kilometers to Los Baños and when his carload of party got there early evening yesterday, he didn’t know where I was, so he called me on my old cellphone (new SIM):

We’re here! Where’s the restaurant?
What restaurant?
The one you’re having your birthday party in?
Oh, there must have been a terrible mistake!
What mistake?
A miscommunication. I don’t have any money. I couldn’t possibly afford any sort of party in any sort of restaurant.
Goodbye!

Get the message? Next time you receive an email invitation to a party, be sure to get the joke right.

Big Bang Stephen. Hawking's Hierarchy of Gods

2010-09-05T09:07:00.001+08:00

MANILA - I start with this hypothesis: Stephen Hawking believes in God; the problem is, he doesn't know it! You don't believe me. The problem is, with his chariot of fire, he has failed to recognize, failed to acknowledge, and, unlike Alfred Lord Tennyson looking at a little flower, failed to know what God and Man is. I shall prove that by reason, without the aid of mathematics, without experimentation. I shall use Stephen's Science to disprove Hawking's Science. Fair enough?

Since his super-bestseller book A Brief History of Time in 1988, Stephen Hawking has been making a big bang for the bucks out of the Big Bang Theory and I congratulate him. Certainly, the laws of physics can make one happy despite the misery of one's existence. 9 million copies sold of these 256 pages of non-fiction volume is a huge volume of trees felled, but it stands to reason. The laws of physics do declare that if man must print on paper and paper must come from trees, the trees must be felled.

No one can repeal the laws of physics. "Everything in the universe follows laws," says Stephen Hawking, "without exception" (Stephen Hawking & Leonard Mlodinow, "Why God Did Not Create the Universe," wsj.com). Since this universe is made up of book buyers who were created by the Big Bang, and they owe their existence to it, it is proper and praiseworthy that they patronize their own creator. Right, Stephen?

I predict more bucks for the bang for Hawking's latest book. Already, the newspapers all over the world are agog at the latest pronouncements of Stephen Hawking (of the University of Cambridge) in his new book The Grand Design (co-written with Leonard Mlodinow of Caltech) (source cited, wsj.com), such as, "No gods required." With that, I agree. Ye gods! I am monotheistic myself; I believe in one God. Ye gods are a dime-a-dozen.

Hawking is monotheistic himself; he believes in God but calls God "the laws of physics" or "the laws of the universe" or " Big Bang" or “Science.” That is only vocabulary, as I shall show you in a moment. Nonetheless, I assure you it's an excellent exercise in critical - and creative thinking. Stephen is creative; if you want to criticize Hawking, you must be creative.

Let us first fathom the mind of Hawking as he postulates on ancient knowledge and modern wisdom (source cited, wsj.com):

Ignorance of nature's ways led people in ancient times to postulate many myths to make sense of their world. But eventually, people turned to philosophy, that is, to the use of reason - with a good sense of intuition - to decipher their universe. Today we use reason, mathematics and experimental test - in other words, modern science.

This is a Stephen revelation to me! Hawking is like saying the ancients had no knowledge; the moderns know everything. I don't know. The ancients had only intuition, which is unreliable; the philosophers had only reason, which is deniable; but the moderns have the 3 magic words for knowing well - reason, mathematics, and experimentation - the results of the use of which are verifiable. Science knows best.

With or without a grand design, in my quote above, my insight is that Hawking is conjecturing that there have been 3 Stages in the Intellectual Growth of Man, Homo sapiens, The Thinking Species:

(1) Myth-Making = intuition (my interpretation)
(2) Philosophy = reason plus intuition
(3) Science = reason plus mathematics plus experimentation.

Thinking of Hawking intellectualizing, I have intellectualized my own conclusions:

(1.1) On Myth-Making. "Ignorance of nature's ways led people in ancient times to postulate many myths to make sense of their world." Saying that, Hawking is chucking the role of myth-making in the culture of man. My God, without myths, this world would be a mist! Why, I grew up with myths in our sleepy town in Central Luzon, Philippines; I grew up with myths in books - a loner, how dreary life would have been for me if in my boyhood there were no myths to wander into, to wonder about! It must be that Stephen Hawking had no pleasant boyhood to speak of. Or he didn't like reading.

(1.2) Also on Myth-Making. By that also, Hawking is throwing away the role of religion in human society. To simplify, I shall simply equate myth with faith, even as they do make a similar sound. To Hawking, ancient wisdom has no place in modern society. Ancient writings and thinking are to be acknowledged but not to be respected. Too old. Stephen Hawking has no respect for tradition, or elders.

(2) On Philosophy. "But eventually, people turned to philosophy, that is, to the use of reason - with a good sense of intuition - to decipher their universe." Thereby, Hawking is saying that philosophers and thinkers are not worthy of being the source of knowledge and wisdom. Not Aristotle, Socrates, Epicurus, Ptolemy, Cicero, Plutarch, Augustine of Hippo, Thomas Aquinas, Thomas More, Constantine the Great, Martin Luther, Karl Marx, Goethe, Friedrich Nietzsche, name your philosopher or thinker or rebel. Jesus dined with the sinners and the sick; Stephen will not dine with philosophers and kings.

My good friend Double O reminds me of another Stephen, St Stephen, who was tried by the Sanhedrin for blasphemy against Moses and God and for speaking against the Temple and the Law, and was stoned to death (Wikipedia). With his Grand Design, Stephen Hawking has stoned God to death. While St Stephen was on trial, he underwent a theophany - he saw both God the Father and God the Son. In contrast, Stephen Hawking has put God on trial, and he cannot have undergone a theophany: he has been seeing through the glass, darkly, so he cannot have come face to face.

(3) On Science. "Today we use reason, mathematics and experimental test - in other words, modern science." In the context of all of the above, Hawking is actually saying Science is God, the only arbiter of ultimate truth, the all-making Almighty, The Non-Grand Designer. Creatively, this is how I interpret my Hawking quote above:

Science is above
Philosophy which is above
Myth-Making which is about
Understanding the Universe.

And with that, my Hawking revelation is this:

The 3rd God is above
The 2nd God which is above
The 1st God which is about
Creating the Universe.

That's what I call Hawking's Hierarchy of Gods. But this is so much unlike Abraham Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, where the lesser and greater needs all fulfill the whole of Man. In essence, Hawking is saying these are The 3 Gods of Knowledge of Men. Unknowingly, Hawking is saying that God is the arbiter of knowledge and wisdom. But since it's a hierarchy of divinity, you have lesser and greater gods, and they supplant each other. Since The 2nd God is higher in rank than The 1st God, and The 3rd God is higher in rank than The 2nd God, The 3rd God is the highest, Science.

Unfortunately, Hawking's Science is a jealous God. So, there cannot be any other strange gods before him.

Did you hear it? "God did not create the universe and the 'Big Bang' was an inevitable consequence of the laws of physics, the eminent British theoretical physicist Stephen Hawking argues in a new book," Michael Holden says (02 September 2010, reuters.com). That is The 3rd God speaking.

In Law, the Big Bang is guilty until proven otherwise. In Science, is the argument one of luminous brilliance? Let us examine it for all its worth. Holden quotes Hawking as saying:

Because there is a law such as gravity, the universe can and will create itself from nothing. Spontaneous creation is the reason there is something rather than nothing, why the universe exists, why we exist. It is not necessary to invoke God to light the blue touch paper and set the universe going.

The 3rd God says it was not The 1st God (the God of Faith) who created the universe but Gravity.

In other words, Gravity created us! Of all people, me?

So, I'm a spontaneous creation of my father and mother. And my parents were the spontaneous creations of their parents and so on and so forth. So the first male and female of the human species were spontaneous creations. That's spontaneous thinking, but I don't think it's funny.

The 3rd God must be joking. I'm a Roman Catholic. I'm a sinner; Gravity created me, a Roman Catholic sinner? Gravity, that's who can I turn to when I feel guilty, when I feel miserable because of my sins of omission and commission, when my heart is heavily laden that I have to confess so that my burden is light?

"God did not create the universe." This is like Stephen Hawking declaring that "God is dead." Like Friedrich Nietzsche, he is effectively saying that "the shared cultural belief in God" (Austin Cline, about.com) cannot be reconciled with the truth. No more Christian God, not even Allah. The Bible is worthless, so is the Koran. Time to burn The Book.

That is god-awful. I cannot accept that. What can I do without God? Rather, it's time to burn the midnight oil to read The Book.

Hawking has his 3 gods topsy-turvy, the wrong hierarchy. The point Stephen Hawking's Grand Declaration misses is that the God of Science is not the highest god of all, not higher than the God of Faith. In any case, he has failed to prove his conjecture.

This is my conjecture:

Science is a way to the truth just as Faith is, just as Philosophy is. They cannot contradict each other.

Faith cannot say Science is wrong, because that would be contradicting itself - Faith is not based on what Science is based, as according to Stephen Hawking: reason, mathematics and experimentation. Faith is without logic, without mathematics, and without proof. It isn't called Faith for nothing! The Bible tells me, and I believe it: "Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen" (Hebrews 11: 1, King James Version).

As to Philosophy, Faith has taken it all in - you should be a Roman Catholic! You will find a great many philosophers and thinkers in that Church and you will make their acquaintances, if not friendships, that will last forever. For starters, try the innocent little girl St Therese of the Little Flower. Try a little love for a change.

By the same token, neither can Science say Faith is wrong. Faith is beyond the scope of Science; Science is beyond the scope of Faith. In matters of Faith, Science cannot be Science. Science cannot devise an experiment to prove or disprove that there is a Christian God, or an Allah God, that God did not create the universe, that God did not give Man the Ten Commandments and so on and so forth. Science cannot disprove that the Bible is Revelation from God. Else, that would be another revelation to me, a sinner.

The basic problem lies in the assumption of Stephen Hawking that Science is The Only Way to the Truth. That is Stephen Hawking's Hidden Agenda.

In fact, obeying its own rules, Science cannot be Science in the matter of the Big Bang Theory. It will never be able to prove Big Bang. That's exactly why it should remain labeled as a theory, not knowledge, not old scientific dogma as Stephen Hawking presents it. "You cannot teach old dogma new tricks," Dorothy Parker says. Amen to that!

What, in heaven's name, is the Big Bang Theory that denies Heaven? Let us turn to the authority of other scientists. According to the US National Aeronautics and Space Administration, NASA (nasa.gov):

The Big Bang Model is a broadly accepted theory for the origin and evolution of our universe. It postulates that 12 to 14 billion years ago, the portion of the universe we can see today was only a few millimeters across. It has since expanded from this hot dense state into the vast and much cooler cosmos we currently inhabit.

Whatever. The Big Bang Model is theory. Now, what is theory? NASA tells us that a theory is "a scientifically testable general principle or body of principles offered to explain observed phenomena" (nasa.gov). The crucial word is testable, that is, experimentally verifiable.

Is the Big Bang Theory testable? For the Big Bang Theory to be declared scientific, following Hawking's undeclared 3 Scientific Criteria, there are 3 requirements to meet: (1) it must stand to reason; (2) it must stand up to the rigors of mathematics; and (3) it must pass the scientific test.

I almost have no problem with that.

(1) I will grant that the Big Bang Theory stands to reason. I have no arguments against it. It's a theory, that's all. Your theory is as good as mine!

(2) I will also grant that the Big Bang can stand the rigors of mathematics, since it is based on the genius of Albert Einstein's Theory of Relativity; even if I don't understand Relativity at all, since I salute Einstein, I'll take his word for it. By the way, this genius believed in Grand Design. He famously said, "God does not play dice with the universe."

(3) But can the genius of Stephen Hawking devise an experiment to disprove the existence of the God of Faith? More importantly and urgently, can Hawking or any of his ilk devise an experiment to prove once and for all that the Big Bang did happen? Don't claim it - prove it! In contrast, in Faith you claim a miracle, but it takes God to prove it.

I would have accepted with love if Stephen Hawking did only say, "Gravity created the universe," even if there is no experimentation to prove it - because then I could have said that God created Gravity and commanded it to just go do it! But I cannot accept that Hawking did also say, "God did not create the universe." That is to speak without reason, without mathematics, without experimentation. Science is not on the side of the scientist, "the most brilliant man alive today" (Keith Dick, sliceofscifi.com). The scientist can be brilliant and wrong.

Faith is on my side. Did God create this chaotic, uncaring, violent, anthromorphic universe? Hawking knows. "God did not create the universe," the Big Bang did it. Not guilty!

"God did not create the universe," the Big Bang did it - that is in fact a logical fallacy called begging the question. You are trying to prove something by using your claim as your proof. You are using the Big Bang itself to prove itself. Petitio principii, as Aristotle would say, a material fallacy. Fallacy will get you nowhere!

I'll simplify and say, "Assuming the Big Bang, the question is not how the universe began, not how the Big Bang happened, but where?"

The Big Bang cannot be the Beginning of the Beginning, because it must have happened somewhere, not in a formless void and not where darkness covered the face of the deep and not where a mighty wind swept over the face of the waters. It could not have caused its own existence; that is against the reason of Science. Where did the Big Bang happen? Who caused it to happen? Who caused Gravity to happen to create the universe? It cannot have been Gravity itself; Gravity cannot have been the Uncaused Cause. The God of Faith is.

To understand the wondrous claims of Stephen Hawking about the Big Bang Theory, I have my own theory. And yes, if I may say so myself, my theory stands to reason; it is mathematical; and it can be tested experimentally. To make the Big Bang Theory stand on its head, I shall call mine the Bang Big Theory, and it is based on what I shall refer to as The Lawyer's Principle:

If you have the law, Bang on the law.
If you have the facts, Bang on the facts.
If you have neither the law nor the facts,
Bang on the table.

Bang Big!

The lawyers do it; the debaters do it; let's do it, Stephen Hawking must have said to himself. If you want it done right, you have to do it yourself.

Stephen Hawking bangs on the laws of physics, because they are universal laws. But he cannot prove that they work like he says they work in his favor when it comes to the Big Bang. He claims it; he has to show me the miracle that they work like he says they do.

He bangs on the facts, like there has been discovered a planet revolving around another that is not in our solar system, but he cannot prove that that is not part of God's grand design.

So he bangs on the table of mass media to catch everyone's attention. So he gets Big Bucks for his Big Bang.

At this point, I find I must quote my favorite US President, Abraham Lincoln, who famously said, "If the end brings me out wrong, ten angels swearing I was right would make no difference." If I am wrong, if Stephen Hawking's Big Bang is not after the Big Bucks, he must be after the Big Cheese: a Nobel Prize in Physics. He will get it, no doubt. And his book will be another bestseller, certainly. Yet, neither the Nobel Prize nor another bestselling book will prove that Stephen Hawking is right about God. The Nobel and the bestseller will only prove that Stephen Hawking is a great thinker and a great writer. Stephen Hawking's God is good but not great.

Disappointed people are saying that by coming out with his Grand Design book, Hawking has turned from a believer to an atheist. They are only misreading Stephen Hawking. The last sentence in his bestselling book A Brief History of Time was this: "If we discover a complete theory, it would be the ultimate triumph of human reason - for then we should know the mind of God." And now that in his new book The Grand Design he emphatically says that "God did not create the universe," they are saying that Hawking has reversed himself. Are they saying he cannot stand on his own two feet?

That is incorrect. When he wrote at the end of his book of Time, "If we discover a complete theory, it would be the ultimate triumph of human reason - for then we should know the mind of God," he was playing with the word God. What he meant was that if man found that Grand Theory of Everything "to explain all the mysteries and apparent contradictions of physics in one fell swoop" (DM, thedailymaverick.co.za), that Mind of God Theory would show that Man's reason is the right tool to understand the universe, and prove that God was in fact unnecessary.

God is not necessary for Stephen to understand the universe. But Hawking's reasoning has failed to prove scientifically that God is not necessary for me. Stephen Hawking's Science is The God That Failed. I pass.

Technorati Tags: chariot of fire,The God that Failed,science,reason,experimentation,search for truth,Faith,Philosophy,Maslows' Hierarchy of Needs,Bible,miracles,God is good but not great,St Therese of the Little Flower

Bo Sanchez, is he? The Greatest Preacher in the World

2010-09-01T13:38:00.001+08:00

Revised 01 August at 1332 hours Manila
MANILA (29 August 2010) – Smile. “Welcome Sir, welcome Ma’am.” My son Jomar, his wife Clarisse, their child and baby Sean and Lucia, along with Malen, Nene, and I are attending the last session of the preaching series, T3: Secret of Big Returns of The Feast at the Philippine International Convention Center along Manila Bay; this is a Roman Catholic Sunday prayer meeting of the Light of Jesus Family congregation. Fr Romy Castro is celebrating the mass; we come in just before the Mass begins. My notes begin with the 1st Reading, which comes from Sirach 3: 17-18, 20, 28-29. Here are the 17-18 verses (NRSV):

My child, perform your tasks with humility, then you will be loved by those whom God accepts. The greater you are, the more you must humble yourself, so you will find favor in the sight of the Lord.

The 2nd reading is from the book of the Hebrews but I don’t catch chapter and verse, I don’t know why. The Gospel (Luke 14: 1, 7-14) is about the Pharisees and their considered places of honor at the banquet table. When Jesus noted how they seated themselves, he told them this parable (in my own words): What if you seated yourself at the seat of honor at the table, and then are told that you did not belong there? What if you seated yourself at an ordinary seat at the table and then are told that you belonged to the head of the table? After which, Jesus told them, “He who exalts himself will be humbled; he who humbles himself will be exalted.”

So I shall call that the Parable of Humility.

Fr Romy talks about 2 kinds of parable: Window and Mirror. The window parables are stories that give us mortals a glimpse of the kingdom of God. The mirror parables are stories that mirror our shortcomings. Humility is accepting who we are, including our shortcomings.

Do you know, he says, where the word humility comes from? From the Latin humus, the soil, the black soil. Only if you accept that you are as lowly as the soil can you be productive, creative. I say: Humility begets creativity.

Fr Romy says that humility, like love, cannot be defined; it can only be described, and that is why Jesus gave the lesson by way of a humble parable, that of the humility parable. In one sentence, Fr Romy’s humility sermon is this, in his own words: “It is nice to be important, but it is more important to be nice.”

Do we see nice people around? Here comes preacher Bo Sanchez, introduced by 2 jokers. This was a parody of The Ostentatious Rich, who loves to display what he has, and The Poor Poor, who loves to display what he has not. Jokes aside, let’s listen to him.

In his preaching, he talks about some ostentatious people. “Ostentatious wealth is a sign of God’s favor.” If you knew that, then you must believe in the Prosperity Gospel, according to Bo. He doesn’t believe in it.

Me, I always knew that ostentatious wealth was a sign of God’s disfavor - of poor me. When I was a teenager in my hometown Asingan in Pangasinan, I saw how the rich treated the poor, and I didn’t want to be poor.

I’ll describe to you what is the countryside way of ostentatious display: Our rich next-lot neighbors and relatives would not even give us any single fruit from their backyard trees, preferring to let the fruits fall to the ground where they may and allow the fruits to lie there, helpless, and allow us poor children to gaze longingly at the fruits, hopeless. Fence and barbed wire divided the rich and the poor. So, I also didn’t want to be rich, thinking that if I became rich I would treat the poor the same way. I was afraid of becoming rich!

So, I wanted to stay poor. I told myself when I grow up, I will never ever strive to become rich; I will never marry rich. I will stay poor. When I was in 2nd or 3rd year college, more than 45 years ago, there was this beautiful girl who had a crush on me, and I on her, and then love died when I asked if her family was rich. Beautiful and rich girls became anathema to me; poverty became my mantra.

“Poverty is a sign of God’s favor.” Is Bo Sanchez talking to me? Actually, he is saying that this is the Poverty Gospel, and he who believes in it is poor indeed!

When he tells the Bo Sanchez tall story of The Greatest Car in the World, he is walking tall. In fact, he is The Greatest Preacher in the World.

It is easy to be humble if your car is The Greatest Car in the World. Bo’s car is old, small,, simple – not a Maserati, not a BMW, not a Lamborghini, not a Porsche, not a Range Rover. When he is on the road, the carnappers hate him. When he is stopped by a red light, the car next to him, a Mercedes Benz, ignores him. He’s not bothered at all. Humility has its rewards.

Not the Prosperity Gospel, not the Poverty Gospel; instead, Bo believes in the Practical Gospel, as he calls it. He believes that God wants you to become rich so that you can be more generous. “Generosity is a sign of God’s favor,” he says. And if you are rich, you can be generous - but only if in the first place you live a simple life. “The simple life is the best way to live!” It allows you to give more. So, Bo Sanchez commands you:

So, earn as much as you can.
And give as much as you can.
And live a simple life.

As much as I took notes (and am able to read my atrocious handwriting), that’s the best lesson that I have ever heard or read Bo Sanchez preach.

But there is yet another best today, and it is not what Bo Sanchez teaches but how he teaches it. Once a teacher, always a teacher, so I’m always watching out not only for preachers but for their preaching, the way they get their message across.

Preaching is teaching on your feet, mostly with a Bible open, mostly without a chalk and a blackboard. It’s also thinking on your feet. I have seen preachers using the PC, but I have yet to see a powerful PowerPoint presentation - without a preacher!

As far as I can tell, the power comes not from the preacher but from the preaching. In other words, any preacher can become a powerful preacher if he knows a technique or two for powerful teaching.

And who do you think is the best teacher of them all? I passed the very first Teacher’s Exam in 1965 with a grade of 80.6%, the highest in San Pablo City, but don’t look at me - look at The Master. If you don’t know The Master, then you are one of those who ask, seriously, “Can anything good come from Nazareth?”

“Master, why do you teach them in parables?” “Because that’s what they understand.”

Learn from The Master! Bo Sanchez is brilliant today, smashing, fiery, mesmerizing - in those precious minutes when he is using the metaphors of a rich man and a poor man, of the traffic signs; when he is using anecdotes and illustrations and stories and parodies - those are all in the modern sense parables.

In other words, at his best today, Bo Sanchez is preaching simply. If you are rich, be generous, and you can be generous only if you live a simple life, if you are humble. Borrowing from him, if you are a preacher and rich in practical lessons in life, be generous, and you can be generous only if you preach simply. Even a preacher can learn how to preach from the Parable of Humility. “Simplicity is a posture of the heart,” Bo Sanchez says. I say, define it and you’re coming in from a position of authority; tell a parable and you’re coming in from a position of strength, that of non-threatening, friendly familiarity.

It is important to be rich, but it is more important to be nice. It is important to preach highly, but it is more important to preach humbly.

Technorati Tags: best way to preach,humility,Parable of Humility,The Master Teacher,Jesus Christ,modern parables,Prosperity Gospel,Poverty Gospel,Practical Gospel,teaching technique

Bo Sanchez’s Best Sunday. The Greatest Car in the World

2010-08-31T04:46:00.001+08:00

Revised 30 August at 2245 hours Manila
MANILA (29 August 2010) – Smile. “Welcome Sir, welcome Ma’am.” My son Jomar, his wife Clarisse, their child and baby Sean and Lucia, along with Malen, Nene, and I are attending the last session of the preaching series, T3: Secret of Big Returns of The Feast at the Philippine International Convention Center along Manila Bay; this is a Roman Catholic Sunday prayer meeting of the Light of Jesus Family congregation. Fr Romy Castro is celebrating the mass; we come in just before the Mass begins. My notes begin with the 1st Reading, which comes from Sirach 3: 17-18, 20, 28-29. Here are the 17-18 verses (NRSV):

So I shall call that the Parable of Humility.

“Poverty is a sign of God’s favor.” Is Bo Sanchez talking to me? Actually, he is saying that this is the Poverty Gospel, and he who believes in it is poor indeed!

When he tells the Bo Sanchez tall story of The Greatest Car in the World, he is walking tall. In fact, he is The Greatest Preacher in the World.

So, earn as much as you can.
And give as much as you can.
And live a simple life.

As much as I took notes (and am able to read my atrocious handwriting), that’s the best lesson that I have ever heard or read Bo Sanchez preach.

As far as I can tell, the power comes not from the preacher but from the preaching. In other words, any preacher can become a powerful preacher if he knows a technique or two for powerful teaching.

“Master, why do you teach them in parables?” “Because that’s what they understand.”

It is important to be rich, but it is more important to be nice. It is important to preach highly, but it is more important to preach humbly.

Technorati Tags: best way to preach,humility,Parable of Humility,The Master Teacher,Jesus Christ,modern parables,Prosperity Gospel,Poverty Gospel,Practical Gospel,teaching technique

Practical gospel. My Double-Best Bo Sanchez Sunday yet

2010-08-30T00:07:00.001+08:00

So I shall call that the Parable of Humility.

“Poverty is a sign of God’s favor.” Is Bo Sanchez talking to me? Actually, he is saying that this is the Poverty Gospel, and he who believes in it is poor indeed!

When he tells the Bo Sanchez tall story of The Greatest Car in the World, he is walking tall. In fact, he is The Greatest Preacher in the World.

It is difficult to be humble if your car is The Greatest Car in the World. Bo’s car is old, small,, simple – not a Maserati, not a BMW, not a Lamborghini, not a Porsche, not a Range Rover. When he is on the road, the carnappers hate him. When he is stopped by a red light, the car next to him, a Mercedes Benz, ignores him. He’s not bothered at all. Humility has its rewards.

So, earn as much as you can.
And give as much as you can.
And live a simple life.

As much as I took notes (and am able to read my atrocious handwriting), that’s the best lesson that I have ever heard or read Bo Sanchez preach.

As far as I can tell, the power comes not from the preacher but from the preaching. In other words, any preacher can become a powerful preacher if he knows a technique or two for powerful teaching.

“Master, why do you teach them in parables?” “Because that’s what they understand.”

It is important to be rich, but it is more important to be nice. It is important to preach highly, but it is more important to preach humbly.

Technorati Tags: best way to preach,humility,Parable of Humility,The Master Teacher,Jesus Christ,modern parables,Prosperity Gospel,Poverty Gospel,Practical Gospel,teaching technique

Manila Bungle. Manila journalism hostage on live TV

2010-08-27T18:13:00.001+08:00

MANILA - The 23 August 2010 Manila Bungle: Bus + jungle + mangled angle: It happened on a bus; the police came as if from the jungle, lacking something and a great many other; and the media showed the worst angle of the whole thing, showing ineptitude and decadence - on live TV. It was a bad day for Manila tourism; it was a bad day for Manila militarism; it was a bad day for Manila journalism; and it was a bad day for Philippine nationalism.

In Manila, police officer Rolando Mendoza got mad when he was dismissed from service and thereby lost his retirement benefits due next year yet; he got his gun, got himself a bus with tourists from Hongkong, and got the attention of the whole world - via live TV coverage, courtesy of Manila journalism.

And 9 people died on the spot, including the hijacker.
And the hopes of Miss Philippines to win the Miss Universe titled died.
And the Manila Police died.
And Manila journalism died.

The people who died on the bus cannot be resuscitated. Some people have to pay for those lives lost.

The hopes of Miss Philippines for the Miss Universe title cannot be resuscitated either. But we can learn a lesson or two from all this. The Manila Bungle happened at a crucial moment in the finals of the Miss Universe contest. The news and the noise heard around the world got on her nerves and she couldn’t respond in a smart way to the last question, to the crowning question: “What is one big mistake you’ve made and what did you do to make it right?” (For her exact response, see my essay, “Venus Falling, Charice Rising. Confronting your demons,” 25 August, American Chronicle). Venus Raj’s response was smart but it didn’t answer the question.

The Manila Police can resuscitated - all they have to do is get good modern equipment, get good training, and get someone good to crack a good whip on them. Being once Manila’s Finest is not good enough.

Manila journalism can be resuscitated - all they have to do is go back to Grade School and relearn their lessons on Good Manners and Right Conduct. But above all to go back to Journalism School to unlearn their dull, uninspiring, colorless, vapid, graceless, that is, their objective journalism that is vintage American at the turn of the 20th century. The Americans are not always bright.

I’m referring to 50% of Manila journalists on radio, TV, newspaper, magazine, and even online. Today, they are hostage to the kind of human-rights journalism that they believe is right. So:

They showed the hijacker with his M-16 on TV - to the obvious satisfaction of the hijacker. And on paper and online, to the satisfaction of unthinking readers; perhaps they were thinking that this was another instance to show that Filipinos are capable of live barbarism?

They showed on TV the police approaching the bus while the hijacker was watching on TV, video on board. Jolly good show!

They showed on TV the hijacker’s brother being arrested, and this angered the hijacker enough to start shooting. Then the police started shooting. Those were the Manila shots heard around the world and angered many. Truth to tell, the Filipinos must indeed be barbarians at the gate of civilization.

In modern parlance, this is all arising from the proper observance of human rights journalism.

It is the human right of a hijacker to air his grievances against his superiors.

It is the human right of a TV camera crew and the host of a TV to show and the announcer in a radio program to tell and the journalists of print to let the world read that the human right of a hijacker is being respected. The last is freedom of the press; the first is freedom of speech. To the Manila 50%, these are paramount freedoms.

They don’t realize that your freedom is defined by my freedom. My favorite quote in this regard comes from Dean Ricardo Pascual of the UP College of Law; he defined freedom like this: “You have the right to swing your arm short of my nose.” Freedom, how many crimes are committed in thy name!

The Manila 50% wouldn’t be so righteous if they practiced the age-old dictum: Discretion is the better part of valor.

Freedom of the press means you have a choice - why make yourself hostage to live drama when your duty is 1st to gather sensory data, 2nd is to collect your thoughts, 3rd is to synthesize, and 4th is to make the best out of the disgusting situation?

In other words, you are a journalist of the people, not of savagery; you are a reporter of news, not an agitator; you are a viewer of events, not an anger-monger; you are a thinking person, not an enraged individual - unless of course you are, and so what are you doing as a journalist?

There is another thing. Those Manila 50% are boring or can’t tell an interesting story, and so they resort to graphic presentations like showing or annotating a hostage crisis live to catch and keep the attention of their audience. They don’t realize that they are also catching and keeping the attention of the hijacker, and that’s exactly what he wants. News becomes the medium becomes the message of the one threatening the peace. This becomes human rights threatening the peace. This is freedom threatening freedom.

Herman Joseph Kraft, Executive Director of the Institute of Strategic and Development Studies, said (Macon Ramos-Araneta, 26 August, Manila Standard Today):

The Manila Police Department is supposed to be the largest in the Philippines, the best trained and best equipped. You could see how far below standard it falls.

The Manila journalists are supposed to be the largest in the Philippines, best trained and best equipped. I could see how far below standards the Manila 50% fall.

To help solve the problem of the Manila 50%, Philippine President Noynoy Aquino said, they needed “to come up with parameters” so that journalists do not get in the way of rescue operations in the future (Joyce Pangco Pañares, 26 August, Manila Standard Today). This is not the first time this happened; this is the first time government may do something positive about it. Journalists should be getting their stories by way of excellent behavior, not in the way of rescue.

You don’t have to have watched the live TV coverage - I certainly did not - to see how the journalism of the Manila 50% in those dark hours disturbed the peace not only in the Philippines but also importantly in Hongkong, so much so that “the Union of Catholic Asian News reported on Thursday that the news about Monday’s hostage-taking incident had left many Hong Kong residents distraught” (ANN, 26 August, gmanews.tv). Julitta Leung of the UCAN reported receiving calls from persons “seeking help due to sadness, anxiety, anger and even hatred.” This is not surprising, as they said “the scenes still linger in their minds.” So what advice did Leung give them? “Avoid watching or reading the media reports.” The live TV broadcast had “shocked many in Hong Kong, an affluent city unused to violent crime” (ANN, 27 August, ctv.ca). It’s time to chuck the shock value!

The Manila police have “admitted to poor handling of the siege and several officers have been removed from duty” (ANN, 26 August, bbc.co.uk). Hongkong’s leader had this to say (ANN, 24 August, new.yahoo.com):

It is most regrettable. The way it was handled, particularly the outcomes, I find it disappointing.

“It’s a tragedy and a farce, “said Kevin Chan, a Hongkong resident. “Why did it take them so long to get into the bus? They’re not well disciplined and trained. Are they crazy?” 50% may be right.

And the Manila 50% journalists? They would say that their reporting wasn’t bad, and their advocates would defend to the death their right to say it.

If the Manila 50% can only come up with scenes that are graphic and tragic, they’re pathetic.

This is not the 1st time this happened. What ever happened to our schools of journalism? If the student has not learned, the teacher has not taught.

If the Manila 50% can’t be the best journalists they can be, it’s time to stop pretending they are journalists. Otherwise, it’s time for them to start serving the people and stop serving their voyeurism.