To You, Reader, This New Year

December 31, 2007

   As much as you say how much I have been part of your life, I would like to take this opportunity to tell you how much you have been a part of mine.

   In the three years that I’ve sat here to write, I always think of you.  You who come here regularly – some of you every day – to end your day on a better note.  I’ve heard some of your stories over the years.  There was one who got an administrative notice for wiring a proxy server to read what I have to write.  There was one who, after splitting up from her boyfriend, looked here to find some words of inspiration.  There are many others: a poignant one being that of the OFW who comes here every so often to read stories from home while talking to her family on a webcam.

   It hits me – hard – to think about the responsibility that has weighed down on my shoulders for these past three years that this blog is no longer just “mine,” but also yours as well.  Every so often, I think about the word “I,” and am tempted to replace it with “we.”  After all, every time I write about a “unique experience,” everyone else experiences it.  You, more than anyone else, experiences it.

   I enjoy – and continue to enjoy – writing.  Not because it’s therapeutic or anything, but because you make all this effort worthwhile.  And in 2008, you will most probably come back here and read what I have to say and end your days in a better note.

   From the get-go, there were always naysayers who told me that I would never amount to anything, that my writing style sucks, and that anyone can do what I do – even better.  I paid heed to those words, knowing that I can prove them wrong.  Needless to say, I didn’t: you proved them wrong.  You stayed here and you took me on.  You stayed.  When I felt left out knowing that the only thing I did for 11 years – campus journalism – was taken away from me because they didn’t think I belonged or I deserved it, you took me in.

   I do not know how to pay you guys back, knowing that what you did for the past three years cost you a lot.  But if anything, the only thing I can think about right now for all these years of you staying is for me to stay.

   All I’m saying is thank you.  Thank you for the support, the kindness, and the confidence.  Thank you.

Best regards for the New Year,

Marocharim

Firestarter, Twisted Firestarter

   The New Year is a time rife for firecrackers: before I left the house to buy fish food, I had to negotiate my way around a warzone of “piccolo,” “pla-pla” and “Judas Belt.”  While I like violent explosions as much as the next guy, I prefer to watch them from a safe distance.  Any residential back-alley on New Year’s Eve is a scene straight off a bad Chuck Norris movie, if you asked me.  Besides, I don’t want to be the next guy who goes to the emergency room not for actually lighting a firecracker, but for being a mere passer-by.

   Sure, I’ve lit my own fair share of firecrackers before, but after seeing somebody being mortally-wounded from a New Year’s explosion, I laid my hands off fireworks for good.  But I’m still pretty much guilty of handling boga, a plastic air cannon “powered” by compressed air and alcohol.  It’s explosive fun for the first few minutes, until firing blasts of high-pressure air becomes a bit boring.  Besides, there are a lot of interracial penis-related jokes you can make out of it, and it doesn’t make for a good bong.  Not that I condone or condemn the use of marijuana, though.

   Watching news reports from emergency rooms filled with people who lost their fingers from firecrackers has become an annual ritual for me.  Bloody carnage is something you would expect from suicide bombers a’la the one that claimed Benazir Bhutto’s life in Pakistan, but here it’s something you would expect on the first day of the year.  There’s something about carving spring chicken with these news reports on: the sight of a dismembered finger is enough to remind you of homemade hamonado.

   But I’m thinking that I’m better off celebrating the coming of 2008 playing old music by Prodigy.  Hence the title.

The 2007 TMX Year-End Report

   As much as it applies to every damned year, 2007 has been an amazing year.  There are highs (so to speak), lows, and everything in between that made this year awesome.  And in TMX, it has been a fine year for blogging.

   The biggest news for Marochaholics this year was the launch of Marocharim.com: after three years of blog-hosting services at BlogDrive, everything became brand-spanking new a few weeks ago.  TMX loaded a heck of a lot faster and to some, looked a hell of a lot better.  Another big news was the online launch of Deus Ex Cybernetica: The Best of The Marocharim Experiment, which is an online e-book of the best of the first 1,000 entries of TMX.  Previously, it was only available through e-mail distribution.  Now that I have a lot more space to fiddle with, I will be making it – along with all other Marocharim e-books – available for download right here.

   It was also this year that I won my first blog-related award in PinoyBlogosphere.com’s Wika2007 Blog Writing Contest, where my entry “Pista ng Wikang Filipino/The Spectacle of the Filipino Language” won the Participants’ Choice Award (arguably my most famous entry to date).  The award, to me, is more than just a ticket to a free domain: to be recognized by top bloggers in the Philippines to be more than worth this award is something I will try very hard to live up to in 2008 and beyond.

   This year was marked by three volumes of TMX: Vol. 5, Vol. 6, and Vol. 7, spanning 362 entries in Original TMX, and 48 entries here in Marocharim.com (not including this one).  Yup, this year, I wrote 410 articles: statistically, an average of 1.12 entries a day.  On par with a professional blogger or a journalist working for a local newspaper.  And I have no one else to thank but my readers, who continue to read my blog and have sort of made a nightly routine out of it.  Thank you very much, guys.

   It was also this year that I have come to the attention of many notable bloggers, particularly Mr. Manuel Quezon III, who has quoted and referred to my blog on more than a few ocassions.  Internationally, my entry on Joma Sison’s September arrest in the Netherlands drew the attention of global neoconservatives, in particular The Belmont Club, Karlo Mongaya, and not to mention a few Joma supporters and sympathizers.  A brief debate between me and Teo Marasigan of Kapirasong Kritika on the matter of blogging.

   Overall, TMX has done good: way good.  Here’s to 2008, and many more Experiments to come.

2007… In Bullet Points

   I’m particularly lazy tonight, so I’ll sum up my year in convenient bullet points:

  • Marocharim.com was launched in December 2007, which means that at least for one year, I’m off free blogging services and I have the privilege of having my own website.  This is all thanks to PinoyBlogosphere.com and Wika2007, where I won the Participants’ Choice Award.
  • My thesis, “The Articulation of the Self in Virtual Environments,” was finished in eight months and ended up as a 366-page tome.  Needless to say, I am very proud of it: the feeling that I have made a new theoretical framework has sunk in, and then there’s the feeling that I made an ass out of myself in that thesis.
  • After 11 years in campus journalism, I finally called it quits: after all, I’m a bastard journalist.  I am now thinking about moving into things that really interest me: comic books and graphic novels.
  • I promised myself a girlfriend as a New Year’s resolution.  As the year ends, I still don’t have one.  That’s unless some fluke romance happens within the next 28 hours.
  • I’ve learned a lot this year and I hope to learn even more about life in 2008.

   Here’s to the convenience of bullet points, and a Happy New Year to all of you!

Wiki Dreams

   I think that if I work hard enough, I’d probably be in Wikipedia.  It’s a pipe dream.  Nope, I’m not talking about editing Wikipedia: I’m talking about my own Wikipedia page.

   Allow me to indulge in ego boosting… after all, this is Wikipedia at work.

   Consider this sarcastic.

*   *   *

Marocharim

Marocharim (born Marck Ronald Rimorin, July 4, 1985) is a blogger and a writer who has significantly contributed to the development of Filipino online literature.

The Marocharim Experiment, 2004-present

Marocharim’s blog, The Marocharim Experiment (referred to as TMX on many occasions), is often argued to be the quintessental example of the development of Filipiñana in the global blogging community.

Writing style 

Marocharim primarily writes in English: while he insists that he writes in plain English, critics often vilify Marocharim’s writing style as “verbal taekwondo,” which causes “nosebleed” (an instance of confusion, which he calls an “epiphany”).

He consistently writes in long compound sentences, a style that has long since developed as a trademark.  On some occasions, Marocharim writes in Filipino: while he openly admits that it his not his primary language for writing, his entry “Pista ng Wikang Filipino” won acclaim in the Philippine blogosphere.

Marocharim calls his blog entries “experiments:” in the foreword to TMX II, he insists that he is a “mad scientist.”  He sees writing as a science that involves initial assumptions – the hypothesis – about ordinary life, which is subsequently tested through writing, and only then can conclusions be drawn.

Topics 

Characteristic of Marocharim’s writing style is the refusal to stay on topic: he claims that topics only serve to constrain both author and reader to understand implications.  Marocharim has a unique penchant to take an inane topic and transform it into something important.

Marocharim is known for his “tasteless,” “morally-bankrupt” metaphors that often involve analogies to anuses, fecal matter, hemorrhoids and herpes.  Marocharim insists that he is not paraphilic, and uses the analogies to challenge conventional notions of morality and good writing.

TMX is often understood to be a “political commentary” website, and is often referred to as a source of political opinions.  While often called a “Leftist,” Marocharim’s line of political thought is influenced very much by Niccolo Machiavelli, Baruch Spinoza, Karl Marx, Thorstein Veblen, John Rawls, and French postmodernism.

Marocharim is also a “literary sadist” in poking fun at rich people, politicians, metrosexuals, the leisure class, and many others.  However, he insists that this is not “satire,” but is actually sarcasm.

Marocharim is also a personal blogger who writes about his life, particularly his “Quixotic” romantic exploits in a series he calls “romantic experiments.”

Praise and criticism

Marocharim’s writing style is a point of contention among many literary critics, in that his writing style has often been compared to that of the French thinker Roland Barthes, the Filipino columnist Jessica Zafra, and Filipino showbiz reporter Lolit Solis.  Still some claim that Marocharim’s style deserves a special place and distinction in Filipino literature, and some believe that Marocharim is a deduction to Filipino literature.

The “myth” that is Marocharim has led to many assumptions about his true identity, if only because he is open in saying that he is paranoid schizophrenic.  He is often accused of having homicidal tendencies and is bent on world domination.  He is also often thought of to subscribe to Satanism, which is completely false.  However, Marocharim is honest in saying that he is homophobic, is very sexist, and is very gender-insensitive.

However, readers say that Marocharim represents the repressed identity in every person, and is the future of Philippine literature.  His antagonism and subjectivity is, to many, a tableau of what people try to hide in presenting themselves.  Marocharim breaks stereotypical notions by engaging in the sterotype itself.

Important works
  • Deus Ex Cybernetica: The Best of TMX
  • TMX anthology, volumes 1 to 7
  • The Marocharim Diaries (forthcoming)
  • Revolutionary or Serial Killer: The Marocharim Story (forthcoming)
  • Garrote: El govierno supremo de las Filipinas bajo nuevo Guardia Civil (graphic novel, forthcoming)

Media Confidential

   Author’s note: this piece was written in Original TMX.  In these times of protracted word wars between television stations, this experiment – once again – says my peace.

MEDIA CONFIDENTIAL

Originally posted May 21, 2007

< gonna be quite long >

   Sometimes I wonder if my experiences as a campus journalist ever amounted to me being “part of the media,” or if I ever was a “media man.”  I’ve had my fair share of “media experiences” like interviewing the likes of Erap Estrada (the former President) and Bojo Molina (who is unknown to many who haven’t watched “F.L.A.M.E.S” or “The Mariano Mison Story”), covering everything from demolitions to worker’s strikes to student rallies.  My friends say that most student journalists can’t hold their candles to me.  To me, it wasn’t about me being “a good journalist,” but it was a matter of holding the same job for 11 years, despite having had a conflicted past with it.

   But one thing was that in spite of my differences with my paper and the media in general, I’ve always defended it.  To me, the media represents the actualization of freedom of speech and the right to free expression.  The mistakes of the media are “human” mistakes, and there’s nothing and old-fashioned erratum can correct.  I was all for de-criminalizing libel.  I thought that a newscaster is just doing the job expected of him/her.  I thought that there was nothing wrong with the freest press in Asia.

   But after a much-needed break from the grind, I realized that I thought wrong.  Thinking that the media – mainstream or alternative – presented the “realities of life” was undoubtedly part of a “false consciousness” I fostered for myself as being part of the media.  This amounted to me revisiting my old conflicts with media and subjecting it to the pains of a dialectic.  I realized that what you see is different from what you experience, and the view of things do change when you see it from a different angle.  It’s not a matter of merely writing an article from a different perspective or viewing a newscast from another channel, but a matter of seeing and understanding media from the strange perspective of being formerly from it, and now being a consumer of it.  From what I though of myself to be a “media practicioner,” I have metamorphosed to being what I think of myself as a “media critic.”

   Politicians and public figures complain about being “victimized” by the media, although it is elucidated in very shallow and personal terms.  But I think that “victimization” is not something exclusive to a politician or a celebrity, but is something that is inclusive to the public in general.  The way I see it, people are silent victims of the media.  Presented with no other alternatives to major networks, broadsheets and tabloid journalism, consumers – in this case “customers” – of mainstream and “alternative” media outfits and enterprises are forced to consume a general media product that belittles their intelligence and disregards their agency.  transforms the public into passive and willing victims of the path to enforced and institutionalized intellectual degeneration, moral degradation, and outright dishonesty.

   The views in this entry are strictly my views and do not reflect the views of other organizations, individuals and such.  Criticism of all kinds – constructive, personal, degrading – are welcome.

*      *      *

Introduction: Coronel’s “idiotization” thesis

   Shiela Coronel of the Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism (PCIJ) mentions of the “idiotization” of Philippine news.  It’s very evident in primetime news programs, where anchors act like hectoring demagogues, where the reportage largely consists of police reports and crime stories, and so on and so forth.  To news executives, they merely “report the news as it is,” that what is being reported is merely a reflection of what’s going on in society.  But rather than elevate the level of discourse in Philippine news, the level degenerates.  In effect, the viewer is treated like, well, an idiot, force-fed crime stories, showbiz scoops and political scandals.

   When I first read Coronel’s article a few months ago, I thought that she was a bit “biased” and that her claims are largely founded on statistical evidence, which is something I’m not very keen on.  But the more I watch TV news, the more I realize that there is merit to the “idiotization” thesis.  It is something pervasive in Philippine media, a syndrome, if you will.

   “Syndrome” is a light word, something that pertains to a brief attack of something periodic.  But the idiotization of media – in this case Philippine media – is something that goes beyond something like a social “influenza.”  The degree by which we, the people, are turned into passive idiots is something that not only makes us sick, but makes us immune as well.  It’s more like a plague.

*  *  *

An example

   Let’s start with a microcosm.  Back when I was a practicing campus journalist, I have always been told that “to write is already to choose.”  This means that a journalist should not and cannot attain absolute objectivity in reporting the news: the mere fact that he/she chooses who to interview, where to get sources and how to write the article is itself an affirmation of bias.  It, however, was a choice: you have to choose your bias.  Almost everyone in the school paper professed being biased “to the students” or “to the people,” but I didn’t believe this.  To me, the paper is a public service and a public trust: because a journalist does public service he/she must state publicly where he/she is coming from.  Part of good editorial policy should be that at the beginning of a new editorial term, the paper should make clear its objectives and thrusts for the term and state its biases clearly and publicly.  This was not “suicide,” as my co-editors termed it, but it was a matter of keeping things honest and on the level.  This means that the reading public knows the standpoint and viewpoint the paper is coming from for every article or editorial piece it publishes.

   What I “preached” in the school paper’s newsroom, though, wasn’t something readily accepted.  Many of the arguments that led me to resign from the paper were caused by this rift between conflicting journalistic philosophies.  While they argued along the lines of “editorial independence,” I made it clear that the political and ideological affiliations and leanings of its members (myself included) did not make complete “editorial independence” possible.  While they hired apprentices and new staff members on the basis of their receptiveness to and acceptance of educational discussions and their political work, I worked only with those who were already experienced or demonstrate a satisfactory capacity to handle the job.  But beyond that was a difference in how to handle bias: to them, it was important to continue a tradition of “alternative journalism,” to report the news the mainstream media does not report on and to be the “voice of the oppressed.”  I was all for tradition and voicing out the concerns of the oppressed: what I wanted, though, was for these to be made explicit to the reading public.  It was not a matter of a militant editorial term taking in the opinions of non-militants to “balance out” the school paper as proposed by many readers.  Instead, the paper should make it clear from the very beginning where it’s coming from, what ideology it adheres to, what causes it supports and what direction it’s going to take.

*  *  *

Media’s business end

   But then again, that’s the theoretical ideal.  I now know why my seniors and my superiors protested against my ideas from the get-go: media is not just about “public service” as I always thought, but it’s also primarily a business.  It’s not just a matter of monetary profit, but a matter of social profit as well.  Stating your biases publicly is fine, for so long as it doesn’t hurt the business end of your outfit.  “Informing the public” is not as simple as it sounds.  Being a source of information, you have to pick your information.  It’s a lot like picking grapes for wine: you don’t drop the whole bunch in.  Instead, you select the biggest, juiciest and the most flavorful ones.  The business end of the media is not about protecting the interests of the reader, but protecting the interests of the business.

   You have to have an established network that supports the business end of your outfit.  In a school paper, for example, your support network is not composed of the students who mandatorily pay for school paper fees, but from the organizations and supporters that protect you from the flak that you’re going to get left and right everytime you publish something that will rouse doubt on the “objectivity” demanded of you.  You can proclaim “editorial independence” or stand by the assertion that you are an “institution,” but that’s simply not enough.  From the get-go, it is imperative to build alliances with organizations and umbrella alliances that will not only defend you from impending flak for your stands and actions, but also a reader base.  People have to read you: if they don’t, you’re dead.  No readers mean no new alliances.  No new alliances means no support.  No support means no paper.  It’s that simple.

   Earlier, I likened the editorial process to picking grapes for wine.  There’s another apsect to that: you can’t make wine that everybody likes.  It’s the same thing with a newspaper: you can’t make articles that everybody likes.  This will confound many people: just how exactly do you get the job done if you can’t please everybody?  It’s quite simple, really.  You have a support base in those who read you, so you cater to this support base.  You don’t have to make articles everybody likes, you only have to make articles your support network likes.  You don’t please everybody: instead, you please the people who are pleased with you and who you are pleased with.  This is not technically “alienating” the reading public, because there’s really no one to alienate.  Those who don’t read you – either by virtue of ignorance or because they protest your editorial standpoint by “boycotting” you – are not, strictly speaking, your readers.  You don’t have to make articles for them, you only have to make articles for your network.  You publish articles for those who are sympathetic to your cause, but at the same time and in effect, you publish articles that are sympathetic to their cause.  It’s not a mere matter of “exchange” or “reciprocity,” but it’s a matter of business.  In business, you and your customer have to think alike, you have to reach a point of congruence.  In business, congruence makes deals materialize – it’s a matter of cinching a deal because you know there’s a deal coming, not because you merely “expect” a deal.  You don’t “converge,” since with that arrangement, something has to give.  If you buckle, no paper.  Again, it’s that simple.

   Some may think that an arrangement like this is “corrupt.”  Ethically, yes, it’s definitely corrupt that it’s nauseating.  But politically, it’s not.  People talk about “media ethics” a lot nowadays, but there’s also such a thing as “media politics.”  Politics is grounded on the survival imperative.  Biologically, you can’t survive without food for four months and without water for three days.  But in society, you can’t survive without having a hold on the politics of things.  Politics has often been called “the economics of social survival” for good reason: it’s all a matter of investment and return.  The social “stock market” is about investing in the right people and you get good returns if you play the game well.  Media is not all that different: people invest in you, in return you invest in them, and this cycle of investments continue on for so long as you both reap the benefits of the investment.  This creates bonds forged and strengthened by time and more and more investments.  If the bond goes up, you both go up.  If the bond goes down, you both go down.  It’s all a matter of protecting mutual interests – it’s called “shareholding.”  Yes, it definitely looks and sounds very, very familiar.  It’s a game of survival: if a paper doesn’t survive, it’s dead.  Yet again, it’s that simple.

   At this point, at least, we have a clue to why primetime news shows so much crime stories, why newspapers are so politically inclined, why certain advertisers choose this network over another, and why many school papers are in reality not “independent.”  And like many things that I hold strong opinions of, this is definitely going to hurt.

*  *  *

The newscaster as a hectoring demagogue

   In the case of primetime news, it’s all about ratings.  Had we taken the logic of news executives that they report things “the way they are” with a less-than-critical mind, the streets should be so full of vehicular crashes, the jails should be so jam-packed with petty thieves and rapists, that our major cities are raging infernos of sheer doom and terror, and that at every waking moment there’s a 100% chance that we’ll be robbed at knifepoint, hostaged in a bus, raped by our stepfathers, killed by a gunman, or commit suicide in the confines of our very own homes.  The thing is, the big networks don’t report what’s really going on, but report the news they deem profitable to their demographic: the C, D and E classes who have their TV’s turned on for 18 hours a day, looking for some measure of suspense and action to spice up their otherwise boring and uneventful lives.  The lower class does not understand the many socio-economic implications of the fluctuating performance of the Philippine economy or the ramifications of Paul Wolfowitz resigning from the World Bank after nepotism charges were filed against him.  Instead, they understand the polarizing and simplifying effects of elementary dichotomies like good and evil, police and criminal, fire and firefighter, hostage-taker and negotiator, and so on.

   This is what “sells” to the primetime audience, who understand convoluted soap opera storylines and inanities in “reality TV” shows, but demonstrate an inadequate understanding of their roles and responsibilities in building a society grounded on the principles of social justice, rights and equity: the antitheses of which are broadcasted on TV in the form of “poll fraud” allegations, paraphilic rapes and “public service announcements” involving the network’s “foundation” literally peddling and hawking scenes of poverty and disability to every TV in the nation just so that they can say that they are “for real” in the lame over-dramatization that passes for their brand of “public service.”  You don’t see commentary and debate on primetime news, but you see “reports” on the next “wholesome girl” to land a “sexy pictorial” with some men’s magazine or some “funny” feature story about a strange frog.  Rather than conscienticize the public about the real situation of divisiveness in the nation, the networks have effectively re-divided the nation between who’s part of the network’s family, who’s in the network’s heart, and who watches government officials prattle on about the accomplishments of this “Strong Republic” that has sustained compound fractures on every single bone of its body.

   What would have been acceptable, in this case, is for the networks to admit where they’re coming from.  We – in this case I – cannot and will not settle for vague, poetic and metaphorical abstractions of things that don’t sound like an open declaration of bias.  After all, it’s bad for business: “bias” is a four-letter word.  But what’s good for business is bad for the public consciousness: the choice for sources of news is limited because it’s profitable to keep it limited.  When the other network goes on commercial, you go on commercial too, to compete with revenues.

   Broadcasting interns, who of all people should have a better knowledge of modern practices of journalism than the antiquated method of applying the style of radio to television and vice versa – start to report like they’re covering the police beat all the time.  And for what?  Ratings.  You don’t report the news in order to inform the public anymore, but you beat the other reporters to the source of the news and have an “exclusive.”  Then you shove the damned microphone right on the face of the grieving mother of the victim or ambush the politican-in-question while he/she is entering his/her car.  You could have told me before that that was the way you’re going to do the news.  But you won’t, because it’s bad for business.

*  *  *

Newspapers: the freehold?

   The abomination that is primetime news makes me more of a newspaper guy, but sometimes, I just don’t get it anymore.  Everytime I pick up a newspaper nowadays I’m not spared from the same force-feeding of information in primetime news, especially with tabloids.  Sure, they’re cheap, but I don’t have to read the graphic descriptions of a 70-year-old grandmother getting run over by a semi truck while I’m having my coffee.  Heck, I don’t even have to read the tabloid version of last night’s rape story in all of its graphic detail, more so those serialized sex stories that would actually induce, or at least fuel the thought, of the damned sex crimes so prevalent in primetime TV news.  Worse, reading a tabloid is like getting showbiz bits intravenously fed to you: blind items are easier to solve than brain-wracking Sunday Sudoku puzzles, and you’ll definitely be the first to know of celebrity closet queens and sex scandal royalty.

   Well, there’s always the broadsheet, right?  Well, not really: the major broadsheets of the country will never declare their political biases to the public and leave that to the monotony of topics in their opinion pages and the monotony of their news, in the hope that the implication is much less dangerous than the explication (which is often not the case).  And yes, there’s an entire section for the chaos of Metro Manila while the rest of the nation is covered by one-paragraph newsbriefs.  Everyday, it’s the same thing: not because it’s a slow news day, but because it’s what’s profitable for their interests.  The way I see it, you can classify the major broadsheets in the country can be divided into three: those who are against the government but don’t explicate it in the interest of keeping its advertisers and perpetuating its agenda, those who serve the purpose of being the other paper’s competitor and runs the same stories as them only re-worded and rephrased to protect their own business interests, and those who tread the path of “objectivity” to the dot that they publish useless news and “praise releases” for politicians but make good profits in classified ads.  I’ll leave that to you, since there are three major broadsheets in the Philippines today and it’s pretty easy to guess just what is what.

   So you don’t like tabloids, you don’t like broadsheets, and you happen to be a college student in a state university that prides itself on “academic freedom.”  Well, you’ve got a paper rich in history and tradition, but full of all the crap that you’re going to have to stomach because you pay for it in advance and you have no choice.  Yes, they are as “objective” as an executioner on the day of a beheading, but the staff is at the very front row of a rally: which is the best place to “cover” a “violent dispersal” or a “show of force” of a couple of dozen students.  We make mistakes, but we can always apologize for them next month: be it a misspelling of a name, a factual error, or a bigoted slur that didn’t really mean or imply anything anything offensive but really meant, hmmm, let’s see, a “bundle of sticks.”  It will always be a slow news day on campus: nothing (and I mean nothing) is more important than the “big issues” that have never changed since the 1970′s, since time immemorial – imperialism, capitalism, and our inalienable right as journalists to stay on campus on off-hours – and we will use the same analysis and the same course of action because history repeats itself, even if it’s the 21st century and the envelope of ideas and courses of action have expanded to allow other ideas to come in.  But our ideas are better because we’re much more “scientific” and “objective” in our analysis: the mere fact that our ideas and courses are action are completely congruent, practically similar and totally alike to the ideas and courses of action of another political party is completely and totally coincidental.

*  *  *

Conclusion: Never that simple

   Well, I said it was going to hurt… don’t say I didn’t warn you.

   These opinions aren’t completely unique, though: many people share the same opinions about the Philippine news media, but the problem is few people actually “complain,” much less do something about it.  It’s not about passive and ready acceptance of the way things are, but it has been a constant process of turning and rendering people passive, accepting things for the way they are.  It’s “idiotization:” it’s not an instantaneous transformation of a reader or a viewer into what passes for an idiot.  Instead, it’s a process: it doesn’t take too long, you just bombard the populace with racy tabloids in the morning and have them watch the primetime news in the evening.  You do this enough and you’ll have a nation that has been desensitized to the effects of everything, from tragedy to social obligations to the state of their lives in general.  After all, it’s in the news.  You can’t argue with facts.  Since the news are made up of facts, you can’t argue with the news.

   I’m not a journalist, nor have I been schooled in “actual” journalism: some of my claims here would probably be dismissed as “delusional” interpretations of what I see in TV or what I read in the papers, or from my own experiences as a writer.  But like I said earlier, many people share the same opinions about the Philippine news media.  The reason why we act so passively and we seem so “ready” to literally ingest the news is because we have no choice.  “Truthfulness” and “fairness” in reporting goes beyond the “objectivity” that there is in reporting the news or the “sexiness” factor that comes with marketing the news product: it is being truthful and fair about what the product is.  Being in the media you have the power over what information the general public knows, but you have the responsibility of ensuring these people the right to know.  And in that sense, you don’t keep a secret from the public.

   Granted, you can’t publish or show everything, but you have to keep things honest.  Good media practicioners are upfront about what advocacies they support, what business interests they have and where they stand.  They don’t claim to be objective if they’re obviously not: news is about calling a spade a spade.  They don’t report news items that would make a quick sale in the newsstands or go through these overwrought and overspent material that makes a person tired of reading or watching the news, the news is instead accurate, timely, truthful and fair.  If you can’t present the two sides of a story, say so.  It’s that simple.

   Of course, in media, things were never “that simple.”  If it was, our problems wouldn’t have been this complicated.

Baskets

   If anything, my brief episodes in Psych Ward taught me a valuable lesson on complaining: there are men without shoes, and there are men without feet.  In that imposing structure of concrete and iron bars, there is a lesson to be learned in handling the weight of the world.

   Every time I go there, I rub shoulders and share prescription pads with the poor, who take the brunt of mental illness in the country.  I know some of their stories: depressives who became so because of defeat, maniacs who became so because they were misguided, and schizophrenics like me who were dealt what seems to be the wrong hand.  I know how some of them attempt to pay the psychiatrist’s free services: in baskets.  There are baskets of bananas, baskets of lowland vegetables, baskets of dried fish.

   Before the building of the Department of Psychiatry was finished, there was an informal economy that revolved around baskets in the hospital: hawking.  You would think that the old woman selling kakanin and vegetables for pinakbet is only doing it for extra cash, but then after a day’s worth of making the rounds and selling at the hospital perimeter is done, you would see her sitting down on the benches for a prescription for her sick son.  Her apron is half-full – or half-empty – with coins and twenty-peso bills: hopefully enough for that pink pill that would save her son the indignity of dog’s chains.

   From what I recall, I never did once see a new basket.  They were old ones: the kind of kamalig worn from trips between mango trees and the market.  And then I wonder why: these are hard-working people who are worked enough to die of their own labor.  Why them?  Then I realized why.

   Nobody in Psych Ward’s outpatient department ever opened up a hand for a handout: there’s always a hand up.  There were always questions about work to be done, like construction work or laundry.  You would see calloused hands everywhere: fresh wounds from fresh work.  These are hands that would be worn to stumps given the sledgehammers and scrubbing boards that would buy the lifetime medication necessary for the sick to have a normal life.

   Why them?  Heck, why not?  Life was never the fairest of bosses.  They’re here pushing around baskets, and whoring themselves to whatever economic prostitution there is in building houses or taking in some lazy family’s laundry.  They’re here: whether they deserved it or not, whether it is a punishment for some long-lost sin or not, is out of the question.  It’s never the question.  What matters is the here-and-now.

   Then it hit me: I thought I had it bad when my hallucinations were diagnosed not to be a “third eye,” but an extreme illness.  I thought I had it bad when I figured how much it was going to cost to “heal” me.  But as I looked around, I realized how bad and extreme I had it compared to these people.  They are decent people: hard workers who tilled the fields and cast the nets to earn a decent living, and here comes one of those challenges people wouldn’t wish on their worst enemies.  And I don’t pay in baskets: cold, hard cash passes through the cashier’s window.  So what do I have to complain about?

   The weight of the world, as I always thought it to be, was that everyone carries crosses.  But when someone carries your cross for you, there really isn’t a weight to speak of.  Not a damn pound.