I’m a “Government destabilizer” and all - and this is not a self-appropriated label - but one thing I have to give props to The Government is its propensity towards acronyms and mnemonic devices to remind us about its programs for Governance.  Take Department of Education Sec. Jesli Lapus’ new acronym to remind us all of punctuality:

WATCH: We Are Time Conscious and Honest.

That read WATCAH to me, but let’s just give it to Sec. Lapus to remind us all to wear wristwatches.  Or:

GMA: Ginintuang Masaganang Ani (among other things).

Whatever.

Of course there are those days that I think our Government runs things by way of a slambook…

JAPAN: Just Always Pray At Night… perennial classic.

ITALY: I Trust And Love You… too bad about Jolens.

BALIWAG: Beauty And Love I Will Always Give… the fuck was that?

MALABON: May A Lasting Affair Be Ours Now… I think the motel rows are in nearby Caloocan myself, but there’s no acronym for that.

PARANAQUE: Please Always Remain Adorable, Nice And Quiet Under Ecstasy… there’s something kind of wrong here, since I think the PCP is being sold somewhere else, not here.  Not that I know anything about it.

MARLBORO: Men Always Remember Love Because Of Romance Only… change of cigarette brands in order.

Then there’s my favorite:

SAN MIGUEL
EXPERTLY BREWED
PALE PILSEN
AND BOTTLED BY
SAN MIGUEL
BREWERY
PHILIPPINES
NET CONTENTS: 320mL

Here goes…

Sa
Aming
Nayon

May
Isang
Grupo
Uminom
Eh
Lasingan

Erbi’t
X
Pinaghalo
E
Rinde
Tuluyang
Lasing
Yan

Bawat
Round
Eh
Washing
Eh
Di

Pati
Ako
Lasing
Eh

Putang
Ina
Lasing
Sila
Eh
Ngayon

Ang
Nangyari
Dito

Bawat
Order
Tumba
Tong
Lasing
Eh
Dumapot

Buti
Yelo

So
Ang
Nangyari

May
Isang
Gagong
Uminom
Eh
Lasing

Bawat
Round
Eh
War-freak
Edi
Rambulan
Yan

Pati
Hostess
Inupakan
Lahat
Inupakan
Pati
Pulis
Inupakan
Nahuli
Edi
Selda

Ngayon
Etong
Tangang

Constabularyo (Philippine Martial Law Cop)
Ominom
Nalasing
Takas
Eskapo
Nag
Tuloy
Sauna

320
Masahe
Lang

Corny, but true.

I don’t want to expound on politics and golf any more than I already did; for all intents and purposes, I’m already bored by it.  Before any more “revelations” come my way, let’s motor out of the fracas and translate some songs.

Man, that felt good… for a while I thought I’m going to be stuck writing serious stuff for a while.

For this week’s lyrics translations, I took out a page of the 1990s songbook and attempted to translate a few songs by Boyz II Men.  Anyone who had an ear in the nineties would know a lot of these songs by heart, or listen to them because of heart-related issues.  And no, I’m not talking about angina or coronaries; Boyz II Men songs are perfect for people with broken hearts.

That alone is good enough reason for me to translate lyrics.  Here goes…

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The controversy surrounding Nasser Pangandaman has the DAR Secretary (Pangandaman Sr.) appealing to bloggers to “stop the attacks.” While I’m not one to deny Sec. Pangandaman of his inalienable right to cry foul - and yes, many foul statements have been made against his family at this point - he seems to be a little bit on the other side of Zen:

Since Bambee’s blog, the story about the incident in the golf club spread through the Internet.

Bloggers condemned and some even put up a signature campaign for Pangandaman’s resignation.

Pangandaman said his family is hurting because of the bad picture being painted on his name and family.

He appealed to bloggers to stop accusing them on the Web. The secretary even warned bloggers against karma.

“I appeal to the bloggers to stop this. They also have their families, they have parents and siblings. Our family is already hurting. I hope this doesn’t happen to you (bloggers),” the secretary said.

First of all, I don’t appreciate the idea of dragging families into this issue, no matter how arbitrary the term may be.  Restraint and prudence should definitely be practiced, but the involvement of both Pangandamans in this issue is not in the interest of malice, but has factual bases.

I was reading some interesting pieces on the issue today, like that of Noemi, Butch, Pat, and Regnard, yet this issue reminds me more of Maupassant’s classic English class requirement than anything else.  There is wisdom in the assertion that this is a small issue made big, but there is also wisdom in the assertion that this is an issue that demands action.

That is why we should not forget this issue, and treat it as the black eye that it is.  Like every issue, the squabble is a microcosm of a lot of things wrong with the way things are going (OK, here and here and here).

Yet this issue should also be a wake-up call to action.  I’m not saying that we should draft an impeachment complaint to sue the pants off the Pangandamans and make Bloggers’ Intervention/Impeachment II, but we should be able to act responsibly and steadfastly when situations call for it.  Bitching and whining, yes; but how much of the pakyu and the tanginamo (excuse the Esperanto) frames this issue in terms of what it is?  Is it about the squabbles of the rich and the noveau riche, or is it about an injustice taking place?

Yet for all the bitching and whining that is taking place between the Hauchecomes and the Malandains of this issue, we’re pretty much privy to it.  Like the villagers who saw the fight between Hauchecome and Malandain as nothing more than a battle of differences between strings and pocketbooks, many still see this as a battle of whodunnit first at the golf course many of us can’t afford to go to.

While they squabble about who struck the other first, some of us fail to frame this issue along - not to separate it from - the many different injustices we all suffer.  The fact that something occured means that it cannot be denied.

Robinson’s Galleria
6:34 PM

I sometimes think that Ortigas, for all its failings and flaws, looks prettier when it’s empty; when the only traces of light come from the few cars that whiz by, when there are no employees shuffling from building to building, when there’s no traffic, when there’s no one there.  I guess the only way I could appreciate Ortigas so much from a misanthropic point of view is when there’s no one there.

Having no people around gives me a man-alone feeling that I almost always enjoy.  Perhaps Armstrong had the same feeling when he first walked on the moon.  Or the blissful feeling Amundsen felt when he reached the South Pole.  There’s no one there, or there could be someone there… we just don’t know.  I guess that you can never fully appreciate the beauty of a place when there’s nothing there but place.

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OK, what follows will be a rather offending rant.

Alexander Lacson, the author of “12 Little Things Every Filipino Can Do To Help Our Country,” wrote a commentary piece for today’s Inquirer.  While I’m not one to deprive Mr. Alex Lacson of an opinion, I am afraid I must offer a dissenting one.  My belief is that Filipino pride is rested on prejudices; that while we Filipinos should be proud of the Philippines, we should be embarrassed at the way things are going.

I don’t know how to top Sparks’ entry regarding that commentary piece, but I do offer this paraphrase.  I think that in my own little way, I can frame the anger and the disdain that I have personally experienced over the past year.  It is by no means a pedantic, self-righteous sense of anger, but a subjective sense of it; a personal feeling of being wronged and deceived.

Please pardon - and take heed to - my paraphrase of your piece, Mr. Lacson. - Marocharim

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I was informed by a friend that I’m back in the news… again.  Following the incident at Valley Golf and Country Club, my take was taken up by posts in Inquirer.net and PinoyExchange by DJ Yap and Alex Villafania:

One blogger, Marocharim (http://www.marocharim.com) criticized the re-appropriation of agricultural land into golf courses. “The least you could expect is to demand courtesy and respect from everyone in the [golf] course.”

Rather than having at least one reader out there wonder how in the heck do you pronounce “Marocharim,” what I did in fact say was this:

A lot can be said about the issue of agrarian reform (like, say, CARP) at this point.  Heck, it’s ironic - even sarcastic - to speak of the caprices of golf when you’re running the Department of Agrarian Reform, and if you’re a mayor in one of the poorest provinces of the Philippines.  That, though, can wait for another day.

OK, I wasn’t “misquoted” by Yap and Villafania; I suppose that one of my Plurks may have leaked out to the world.  Today being the “another day,” allow me to take advantage of the angle that both Yap and Villafania decided to highlight.  (I don’t know how and why, but thanks anyway…)

The interesting question: if you hold a Government position, should you play golf?

Hmmm…

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Before the infamous “No mas” fight with Sugar Ray Leonard, the legendary boxer Roberto Duran was true to his nickname: “Manos de piedra,” or “hands of stone.”  Coupled with his excellent boxing skills and mastery of the ways of the ring, Duran was known for his hard punches.  When Duran fought, his opponents felt like they were beaten up by a machine with rock-hard fists.  It may sound like a cliché, but Duran inspired a nation with his hands.

If there’s anything I learned this year, inspiring a nation with a pair of hands only comes easy if you’re a boxer.  When you’re a writer, the hands that turn to claws at the end of the working day do not inspire a nation at all.  While I can inspire a half dozen people with a good blog entry about 60% of the time, I cannot do that all the time.  Somehow, the nobility of the profession of writing has its own novelty value all worn out.

With more than a hint of bitterness, I often lament about how writers like myself are underappreciated.  Being a writer is not easy; no matter how talented or committed you are to what you do, you almost always end up on the short end of the stick.  I don’t know how inspired people can get every time they see something I write, but inspiration has ceased to be a goal for me some months back.  Like every writer, my goal has turned into a necessity to get paid, to pay for everything I need, and save a little something for a rainy day.  The nobility of it wore off some time ago, when I realized that inspiration is only secondary to making sure you’re alive.

I guess that the worth of writing lies in the fact that no matter what other people say, you’re always in the position of knowing that other people cannot - and I mean cannot - do what you do.  Writing may have lost its nobility for me, but what it takes to write is something that is not lost on me.  There’s a reason why writers are few, and why it takes a lot of gall to call yourself one outside of job titles.  To be a writer means to give yourself a place in history where you become immortal… where you become part of it.

I do not know if what I have done over the years has merited me calling myself a writer; in truth, I am not one.  At best, I am a scriptor engaged in the perpetual precis and perrenial paraphrase of thoughts already written, of concepts already articulated.

In the Grand Theft Auto series, my favorite handheld melee weapon is the golf club.  There’s nothing like swinging the damn thing all over the place, beating civilians up for their money.  There’s also a kind of fun and enjoyable carnage to be enjoyed in it.  But when your government officials start to act like Tommy Vercetti - or if there is an allegation of it taking place in the news or in the blogosphere - I bet you have the right to be pissed off.

Caffeine_Sparks has a rather interesting entry over at Filipino Voices; apparently, Department of Agrarian Reform Secretary Nasser Pangandaman and his son, Masiu Mayor Nasser Pangandaman, beat up 56-year-old Delfin dela Paz and his son, 14-year-old Bino, at a golf course in Antipolo City.  GMA News has an interesting account of the story, and Bambee dela Paz writes an eyewitness account of what happened to her father:

We leave.  We walk to the clubhouse to file a complaint.  My brother asks for a doctor.  My dad could barely walk.  Their group comes to the clubhouse, sees my brother.  Once again my brother pleads, says sorry, and is crying.  He was CRYING, for crissakes.  But no.  The relentless mayor still punches him in the face, and then sees my dad and goes after my dad again.  Him and his friend pull my dad to the ground, pulls at his feet, and steps on him like he’s dirt.  I run to him and try to hold him back, holding him back by his shirt, while this other guy and this girl tries to stop me.  She tells me to just stop it.  I scream in her face “they’re beating my father up and you want me to stop?!”  I pull at his shirt–I don’t let go.  All I can see was my dad being trampled on.  I didn’t even see my brother getting beat up.

To be fair to the Pangandamans, I think we need to hear their side of the story.  Based from what we have to work with right now, both Pangandamans and their bodyguards beat up Delfin and Bino because of their slow playing.  The other side of the story was that the elder Pangandaman asked dela Paz to play at a faster pace in a nice way, but the latter ended up hitting the DAR Secretary with an umbrella.

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I am of the belief that there are many other skills that are necessary for global competitiveness.  You have countries like Japan, France, and China who do not consider English as a primary language, yet still manage to succeed in the world of business.

Cebu Rep. Eduardo Gullas proposed a bill espousing English as the medium of instruction in Philippine schools.  According to an Inquirer.net report, Gullas defends his English bill on the basis of it being the key to a globally competitive Filipino.  However, Valenzuela Rep. Magtanggol Gunigundo opposes the bill, pushing for a multilingual approach to education.  However, the most powerful argument Rep. Gunigundo makes against English is that Gullas’ bill will only foster a workforce that will supply a steady stream of employees for call centers.

Gunigundo has a good point; if there’s anything that will doom this generation to call center employment prospects in the medium term, it’s the insistence on English.  Not that there’s anything wrong with being a call center agent, but we cannot bank our entire economy on outsourcing.  While there is merit in Gullas’ assertion that English is necessary for sustaining a globally competitive workforce, we should also expend our energies on sustaining what is necessary for the national polity.

Gullas asserts that the  “language of technology” is English, but even this can be challenged.  At best, English is the language of public relations and advertising, which is what is necessary for jobs in outsourcing and call centers.   The language of technology is code and numbers.  If Gullas does indeed want a globally competitive economy that focuses on technology, then competitiveness in mathematics and computer proficiency should be emphasized.

I doubt I’ll make good on any New Year’s Resolution I’ll make.  Truth be told, I can’t stick to a single resolution, much less the seven I’m planning to fulfill this year.  These resolutions have nothing to do with destabilizing The Government or enacting change in society (no, they don’t), but they do have a lot to do with improving the lot of my life.  Seven small resolutions for 2009:

1. I plan to cut down on cigarettes. I’m still pretty much a thirty-sticks-a-day smoker on a good day, but I think I’ll do well with taking 10 sticks out of the cigarette quota and smoke a pack a day by December 31, 2009.  Then again, I can hear the distant laughter of some people at this point.
2. I won’t overexert myself at work anymore. I’ve been kicking ass at work for the past 10 months that I think some slacking off is necessary.  I’ve been looking at the monthly reports and realized that my social life is dead because I’ve been working a bit too hard.
3. I’ll try to correct my posture. It’s not my hair that’s the problem with my overall look, but my posture.  My parents have observed that my rather mild case of scoliosis has now turned into a horrible hunch.  I have to admit: my shoulder and spinal alignments are turning me into an 80-year-old man.
4. I’ll try my best to drink less. I’m not sure how I can give up the daily beer, but I suppose I can tone  down my hard drinking in time for my liver to cope with the copious amounts of alcohol I consume.  These days, I think that reducing alcohol consumption is all for the best.
5. I’ll read more books. To kill boredom, I read, and my apartment is already filled up with all sorts of books.  I already have about three dozen thick ones, which goes to show you how bored I can get.  I resolve to get more for 2009, and I’ll probably end up sleeping on a pile of books at the end of the year.
6. I’ll bloghop more often. I’ll be honest; I haven’t been the most conscientious blogger in the world, and I probably have missed out on a lot of cool blogs out there that I haven’t read yet, or haven’t heard of.  Bloghopping more often means that I will have to eventually update my blogroll.
7. I’ll get a girlfriend. Fat chance, I’ve been making this exact same resolution for years without success.