I just remembered that today is Philippine-American Friendship Day. I suppose this shows you can still be buds with someone who essentially raped you. By the way, waiting until most of our World War 2 veterans were already dead before you properly recognized their efforts? Classy move.
Cheers!
Saturday, July 4, 2009
An Incomplete List of Things I Like
After hearing Julie Andrews sing about her favorite things one too many times on Winamp, I've decided to give in and make a list of things I like, as well. Lists, personally speaking are what happen when I feel like I want to write something but feel to lazy to make something substantial and consciously coherent. A list would after all, help you compile several ideas around a particular theme without the effort needed to create a traditional article with paragraphs and complete sentences and all that sort of nonsense. Very few (or none of you) may recall the stupidity that ensued the last time I made a list, which by and large outlined the things I often noticed about people I dislike.
I'd like to be a bit more positive this time. These are but a few of the things that I like and I can't really explain why I like most of them.
I'd like to be a bit more positive this time. These are but a few of the things that I like and I can't really explain why I like most of them.
- Simple yet elegant solutions to problems.
- Simple but effective musical motifs, like the Jaws Theme, or almost any song by The Ramones.
- Nifty shoes.
- Classy looking basses and guitars.
- Seeing women I like in plaid skirts.
- Cowboy hats and boots on the right people. Pretty hard to arrange, I guess.
- Plaid button-down shirts. Preferably flannel. Any sort of cut that fits well is ok.
- Naturally worn-out jeans.
- Bakelite plastic like they used in old telephones and radios.
- Three-man/woman bands. There's just something about a lot of them that appeal to me.
- *Almost* exact symmetry when it comes to designs that do not have practical considerations that require perfection. Generally speaking, I don't like things to look too perfect.
- Field Jackets. Especially M-65s.
- Items made out of tortoiseshell.
- De Stijl color schemes, or any color scheme that makes use of a limited palette effectively.
- Conservative paisley prints. I can't really explain what I mean by that.
- Food with multiple flavor notes.
- The internet
- The Torrents :D
- Conversations where I don't have to explain myself every two minutes or so.
- Sound engineering that does not resort to massive audio compression.
- Teaching people stuff on guitar or bass.
- Our Sharp R-340F Microwave Oven. Best appliance ever!
- Corduroy
- Meeting people who are truly passionate about something other than themselves.
- Free food.
- Swimming.
- Good potato chips.
- Audiophile equipment.
- Seeing people get what they really deserve. X(
- Punctuality
- GOATS. I love goats. Seriously. Goats are awesome.
- British humor
Thursday, June 18, 2009
I am Alive
In between moments of unbounded directionlessness, indecision, and existential torment that seem all the more tormenting due to the sense of clarity one gets, many of us find fragments of time to live in. The feeling that you don't merely exist in space does not necessarily consciously hit you, but there it is.
Without music, I'd find considerably fewer of these fragments of time to hold on to. You would merely feel like any other mass that occupies a place in space-time... no better than a coffee mug or an end table. Fully aware yet helpless, with time passing all the while. All you could do is keep regretting about all the opportunities you didn't take. Sometimes, we knowingly make stupid decisions without having any idea what just happened. And it can kill us inside. The purely rational mind (or one attempting to be) can be cruel- especially to the owner. Because it is painfully apparent how pathetic we all really are in the final analysis.
It's funny how the wrong balance of serotonin, dopamine, norepinepherine, endorphins, and other chemicals in your brain can determine whether or not you are able to be whoever you or other people think you should be. And it's interesting that music can help keep your brain's juices stay in a more manageable proportion, all while helping you to think, feel, and experience whatever the music is trying to convey. That is the way with all our experiences. Every single thing.
Even though I don't believe that we have souls, I do wish that one of these days, I would be presented with an argument that does not require me to blindly believe anything without proof. But I still cling on to the illusion that perhaps, even merely as the wonderfully complicated masterpieces of evolution that we are, we are able to have a sense of self that has meaning. A sense of self that believes that somewhere along the line, our ability to appreciate the finer things in life-like love, passion, or the more sublime pursuits- is linked to some power greater than ourselves... Not a sense of self that further propagates the delusion that there really is free will and that we are able to do whatever we want if we put our minds to it.
The music I listen to and appreciate, the disposition I carry, the food I like, the type of company I keep, the kind of jokes I enjoy, and most importantly- the kinds of choices I make, are all things that help define who I am. But how did this all come to be?
So that we are able to explain things a little better, we first have to tackle the idea of choice and address the concept of free will.
If you did your homework and weighed the facts, you would realize that there is no *true* free will. Rarely is our will as free as we often believe it is. We are all hardwired to do certain things. We do have a degree of control over what we do, true. And it is essential that we hone our rationality to make use of the degree of freedom we do have. But our views on ideas and the extent that we are able to make decisions is severely limited by several things. Mostly the sloshy stuff that leaks out of freshly fractured skulls.
Our upbringing and conditioning will help develop our ability to decide as well, by changing the very structure of our brains, as has been long known by modern science. Learning shapes our minds in the most literal sense.
However, consider the fact that we are born into cultures, religions, and households that we would not be able to choose. We are indoctrinated or educated in one system or another before we are even able to read or even understand how decision making even works. You could easily have been someone else altogether.
Most of these aren't new observations either. They've been around ever since the Age of Enlightenment, and arguably since the dawn of organized thought. I still hold on to the wish that we can have complete control over what goes on with ourselves. But hard science and common sense continues to prove otherwise.
Our ability to create and appreciate music and other forms of art is perhaps the greatest barrier to my acceptance that I am just a few specks of dust in the entire plane of existence. Yet, time and again we see signs that this aptitude is once again directly and conclusively linked to our brains. People who have great aptitude for the arts will invariably have brains wired quite differently from those that don't.
The case would be similar for anyone with certain aptitudes for other things. We also know for a fact that our neurons are able to establish and develop connection differently depending on the types of experiences you've had. Or even the chemicals you take in consciously or unconsciously from your food or other sources. Your grey matter got to where it is through a combination of genetics, environmental conditioning, and not a small amount of luck.
The argument for true free will can stop right there. If the structure of our brains are the determinant of everything that goes on with our interests, personalities, quirks, and choices AND since there is no possible way you can consciously control how it gets to its present state, then to say that free will is perfect is not only quite a stretch, but an impossible opinion to defend, especially if your sort of debate is the one that involves hard facts, and not stuff that is assumed to be true based on blind faith alone.
If you think about it, it's a pretty big deal. It may somewhat lessen the implicit and explicit responsibilities that we feel for our actions. It also removes so much of the drama that our species seems to be conditioned to enjoy. We are all essentially machines, with our individual imperfections and defects being the things that make us different from each other. It might be hard to accept since we have all developed over millions of years to believe that we truly have dominion over everything in this planet, even our own destinies.
In the end the ideas of "self" and "true free will" are by and large, illusionary. A mere byproduct of our millions of years of progression into our present forms. If you've never considered this all before, perhaps it's time to take yourself down a notch. With our concept of self and will tied in to our brains, there can be no soul in the way most of us see it. No afterlife with a continuing sense of self. No harps. No angels. Or if you're my sister, no fire and brimstone.
Personally, I'm more than a little bummed that my sense of self was all due to cosmic coincidence and that I never really was in complete control in almost all of the cases I thought I was. I feel disappointed, quite frankly. But there are other things to think about.
The knowledge that this is all we have puts into perspective how many of us are pointlessly wasting our lives on some fool's errand or another. What's worse is, that there are people destroying other lives on account of these illusions of control and permanence. Illusions that also happen to be what makes us who we are.
The answer to the question of "what" we are is the same: we are the most complex and the most amazing machines any force or confluence of events has ever created. We are machines so complex we are able to create impossible-to-solve self-referential logic loops concerning our very sense of existence. We are nothing short of lucky, and that's not too bad.
Knowing these things has made me appreciate what is there. Knowing these things has allowed me to develop an outlook that demands I treat everyone in a way that I would like to be treated. An outlook that demands justice in the present, because there will be no afterlife to punish anyone. This outlook enables me to look at the hard facts without prejudgment and to be more fair to everyone I encounter. It is a point of view that treat everyone as equals in a fundamental sense. It is a way of looking at things that lets you assess people on their merits and their character while allowing you to attain the most use out of the little free will that is actually allotted to us.
I now look at the world in a way so clear, the sharpness of it all can cause one to feel pain. But because things are so clear, it just makes me want to experience everything that I possibly could. I am no longer as afraid as I was. I want to experience different things. I want to see how different people see things, in their own unique way.
It makes me want to live.
Without music, I'd find considerably fewer of these fragments of time to hold on to. You would merely feel like any other mass that occupies a place in space-time... no better than a coffee mug or an end table. Fully aware yet helpless, with time passing all the while. All you could do is keep regretting about all the opportunities you didn't take. Sometimes, we knowingly make stupid decisions without having any idea what just happened. And it can kill us inside. The purely rational mind (or one attempting to be) can be cruel- especially to the owner. Because it is painfully apparent how pathetic we all really are in the final analysis.
It's funny how the wrong balance of serotonin, dopamine, norepinepherine, endorphins, and other chemicals in your brain can determine whether or not you are able to be whoever you or other people think you should be. And it's interesting that music can help keep your brain's juices stay in a more manageable proportion, all while helping you to think, feel, and experience whatever the music is trying to convey. That is the way with all our experiences. Every single thing.
Even though I don't believe that we have souls, I do wish that one of these days, I would be presented with an argument that does not require me to blindly believe anything without proof. But I still cling on to the illusion that perhaps, even merely as the wonderfully complicated masterpieces of evolution that we are, we are able to have a sense of self that has meaning. A sense of self that believes that somewhere along the line, our ability to appreciate the finer things in life-like love, passion, or the more sublime pursuits- is linked to some power greater than ourselves... Not a sense of self that further propagates the delusion that there really is free will and that we are able to do whatever we want if we put our minds to it.
The music I listen to and appreciate, the disposition I carry, the food I like, the type of company I keep, the kind of jokes I enjoy, and most importantly- the kinds of choices I make, are all things that help define who I am. But how did this all come to be?
So that we are able to explain things a little better, we first have to tackle the idea of choice and address the concept of free will.
If you did your homework and weighed the facts, you would realize that there is no *true* free will. Rarely is our will as free as we often believe it is. We are all hardwired to do certain things. We do have a degree of control over what we do, true. And it is essential that we hone our rationality to make use of the degree of freedom we do have. But our views on ideas and the extent that we are able to make decisions is severely limited by several things. Mostly the sloshy stuff that leaks out of freshly fractured skulls.
Our upbringing and conditioning will help develop our ability to decide as well, by changing the very structure of our brains, as has been long known by modern science. Learning shapes our minds in the most literal sense.
However, consider the fact that we are born into cultures, religions, and households that we would not be able to choose. We are indoctrinated or educated in one system or another before we are even able to read or even understand how decision making even works. You could easily have been someone else altogether.
Most of these aren't new observations either. They've been around ever since the Age of Enlightenment, and arguably since the dawn of organized thought. I still hold on to the wish that we can have complete control over what goes on with ourselves. But hard science and common sense continues to prove otherwise.
Our ability to create and appreciate music and other forms of art is perhaps the greatest barrier to my acceptance that I am just a few specks of dust in the entire plane of existence. Yet, time and again we see signs that this aptitude is once again directly and conclusively linked to our brains. People who have great aptitude for the arts will invariably have brains wired quite differently from those that don't.
The case would be similar for anyone with certain aptitudes for other things. We also know for a fact that our neurons are able to establish and develop connection differently depending on the types of experiences you've had. Or even the chemicals you take in consciously or unconsciously from your food or other sources. Your grey matter got to where it is through a combination of genetics, environmental conditioning, and not a small amount of luck.
The argument for true free will can stop right there. If the structure of our brains are the determinant of everything that goes on with our interests, personalities, quirks, and choices AND since there is no possible way you can consciously control how it gets to its present state, then to say that free will is perfect is not only quite a stretch, but an impossible opinion to defend, especially if your sort of debate is the one that involves hard facts, and not stuff that is assumed to be true based on blind faith alone.
If you think about it, it's a pretty big deal. It may somewhat lessen the implicit and explicit responsibilities that we feel for our actions. It also removes so much of the drama that our species seems to be conditioned to enjoy. We are all essentially machines, with our individual imperfections and defects being the things that make us different from each other. It might be hard to accept since we have all developed over millions of years to believe that we truly have dominion over everything in this planet, even our own destinies.
In the end the ideas of "self" and "true free will" are by and large, illusionary. A mere byproduct of our millions of years of progression into our present forms. If you've never considered this all before, perhaps it's time to take yourself down a notch. With our concept of self and will tied in to our brains, there can be no soul in the way most of us see it. No afterlife with a continuing sense of self. No harps. No angels. Or if you're my sister, no fire and brimstone.
Personally, I'm more than a little bummed that my sense of self was all due to cosmic coincidence and that I never really was in complete control in almost all of the cases I thought I was. I feel disappointed, quite frankly. But there are other things to think about.
The knowledge that this is all we have puts into perspective how many of us are pointlessly wasting our lives on some fool's errand or another. What's worse is, that there are people destroying other lives on account of these illusions of control and permanence. Illusions that also happen to be what makes us who we are.
The answer to the question of "what" we are is the same: we are the most complex and the most amazing machines any force or confluence of events has ever created. We are machines so complex we are able to create impossible-to-solve self-referential logic loops concerning our very sense of existence. We are nothing short of lucky, and that's not too bad.
Knowing these things has made me appreciate what is there. Knowing these things has allowed me to develop an outlook that demands I treat everyone in a way that I would like to be treated. An outlook that demands justice in the present, because there will be no afterlife to punish anyone. This outlook enables me to look at the hard facts without prejudgment and to be more fair to everyone I encounter. It is a point of view that treat everyone as equals in a fundamental sense. It is a way of looking at things that lets you assess people on their merits and their character while allowing you to attain the most use out of the little free will that is actually allotted to us.
I now look at the world in a way so clear, the sharpness of it all can cause one to feel pain. But because things are so clear, it just makes me want to experience everything that I possibly could. I am no longer as afraid as I was. I want to experience different things. I want to see how different people see things, in their own unique way.
It makes me want to live.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
An Argument For Laziness, and For Doing Stuff You Actually Like
One of the central tenets of society is that we should all try to work and toil so that we are at least able to to support ourselves and not be a burden to everyone else. This is often taken for granted, perhaps as a form of social contract that is implicitly, yet deeply persistent in society.
This also holds true in cultures where freedom of choice is given at least some lip service. However, if we were to look at things a bit more, we shall see that these are things which are often taken for granted but may be seen to be incompatible.
Let us all be clear on something. None of us chose to exist. Whether you are a captain of industry or a tenant in the poorhouse, not one of us has planned our own existence. At least two people planned (or didn't plan) for you to be. By default, in the vast majority of cases, we become part of the greater whole, regardless of any thoughts we are to develop on the matter.
Freedom of choice may not extend to your freedom to be, but it can extend into your freedom to continue being... however you wish to look at it.
Supposing true freedom of choice*, you can always try to disassociate yourself from society in whatever way you wish. This can run the gamut from killing yourself to becoming a hermit, to just keeping the company of a trusted few, or just saying "to hell with work!".
It is the last example we shall discuss. Why do many of us kill ourselves working? Many of us feel a responsibility to support others and ourselves. A lot of us have put it in our minds that suffering is good, and the denial of pleasure is virtue.
There are a number of things very wrong with these assumptions. First, pain and suffering are nature's ways of telling us something is not right. You put your hand in a fire, it burns. You work 14 hour shifts 5 days a week doing something you hate doing, you dread waking up for work. You do something you don't like or something your body finds unduly uncomfortable (or both) and you will always of course, want to stop; especially if there is no greater reward in sight.
Pleasure is of course, the opposite. Even with regards to pleasures that are ultimately harmful. Their consistent denial can make you one unhappy bird. This is almost invariably true if there is no promise of anything better in return. **
Here, we have caught the lie. Most nations that are known to have a culture of valuing work above self tend to be countries with the most unhappy people. In fact, we Filipinos (mostly outside Metro Manila, which has a different work culture), have a notoriously live and let-live attitude towards work and life, and are often considered among the happiest people in the world. We all know wealth or productivity do not necessarily make most people happy or secure. And as any philosophy professor worth their salt will tell you, the point of life, with no other things supernatural being considered, is always about being happy, or trying to be happy.
In the Philippine urban setting however, many people, especially the upwardly mobile youth, work in fields that may pay well, but are not in line with their true passions. Here where the attitude towards work ethic is more in line with outside notions, people are markedly less upbeat. This is the consequence of both the lack of job opportunities and the lack of support for fields that do not promise maximum returns on investment. There is also an attitude of selfishness and survivalism that would make Ayn Rand proud. After all, times are tough all around. But are they so tough that it is no longer worth taking the risk of doing something that makes you happy?
The answer to that question can only really be answered by you. But how many kids really wanted to be nurses, salespeople, account managers, or be warm bodies to fill out cubicle farms in call centers and other Business Process Outsourcers? It is undeniable that many of us, myself included, have been drawn into fields we do not desire, out of necessity or (sadly) due pressure exerted by others, including our parents.
As a result, many of us no longer know, or will never know how it is to work to live. Instead, a perverse attitude of living to work has become the norm.
If the purpose of life is to be happy, then this perverted attitude has rendered many lives meaningless.All is well and good if you like your job. The last time I checked, this is not likely to be the case.
Having a bad job may not be so bad with a good support network of friends and family. But what about those who are without it? And do you really want to spend the rest of your life knowing that you had a chance at having it so much better, but you never took it? Are you sure you'd be happier doing what you are doing now than if you did nothing at all or something else entirely?
Of course, the funny thing about working is that if we choose to stop earning anything altogether, someone along the line will have to support us, in most instances. It may be friends, family, the state, or whoever else.These external players choose or feel obligated (or ARE obligated) to support us if we do not or are unable to support ourselves.
The choice is then up to you on how you should repay those that support you, or it will always remain a choice if you want to work at all. There will always be the inalienable right not to do anything if it behooves us. We did not after all choose to exist in the first place. Why should we conform to the standards of a society we had no choice in joining?
In any case, I don't think we should all start bumming out. On the contrary, I think almost everyone can benefit from doing something meaningful. I also happen to find life to be a wonderful thing, well worth financing by any means possible.
It is apparent that today, especially in most places considered to be developed and modern, that there is a huge deficit in happiness. We are not only less happy as a whole, but some would say our we have lowered our standards for happiness.
For many, dying may be the easiest way to escape a life not worthwhile.
*which I do not believe in, but that's a long story.
** even S &M falls under this. Pain for pleasure.
Sources:
http://www.nscb.gov.ph/ncs/10thNCS/abstracts/Invited/43%20Economic%20Accounts/10thNCS_Abstract_RAVirolaJOEncarnacion.pdf
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1029896,00.html
http://dss1.princeton.edu/cgi-bin/dataresources/newdataresources.cgi?term=42
This also holds true in cultures where freedom of choice is given at least some lip service. However, if we were to look at things a bit more, we shall see that these are things which are often taken for granted but may be seen to be incompatible.
Let us all be clear on something. None of us chose to exist. Whether you are a captain of industry or a tenant in the poorhouse, not one of us has planned our own existence. At least two people planned (or didn't plan) for you to be. By default, in the vast majority of cases, we become part of the greater whole, regardless of any thoughts we are to develop on the matter.
Freedom of choice may not extend to your freedom to be, but it can extend into your freedom to continue being... however you wish to look at it.
Supposing true freedom of choice*, you can always try to disassociate yourself from society in whatever way you wish. This can run the gamut from killing yourself to becoming a hermit, to just keeping the company of a trusted few, or just saying "to hell with work!".
It is the last example we shall discuss. Why do many of us kill ourselves working? Many of us feel a responsibility to support others and ourselves. A lot of us have put it in our minds that suffering is good, and the denial of pleasure is virtue.
There are a number of things very wrong with these assumptions. First, pain and suffering are nature's ways of telling us something is not right. You put your hand in a fire, it burns. You work 14 hour shifts 5 days a week doing something you hate doing, you dread waking up for work. You do something you don't like or something your body finds unduly uncomfortable (or both) and you will always of course, want to stop; especially if there is no greater reward in sight.
Pleasure is of course, the opposite. Even with regards to pleasures that are ultimately harmful. Their consistent denial can make you one unhappy bird. This is almost invariably true if there is no promise of anything better in return. **
Here, we have caught the lie. Most nations that are known to have a culture of valuing work above self tend to be countries with the most unhappy people. In fact, we Filipinos (mostly outside Metro Manila, which has a different work culture), have a notoriously live and let-live attitude towards work and life, and are often considered among the happiest people in the world. We all know wealth or productivity do not necessarily make most people happy or secure. And as any philosophy professor worth their salt will tell you, the point of life, with no other things supernatural being considered, is always about being happy, or trying to be happy.
In the Philippine urban setting however, many people, especially the upwardly mobile youth, work in fields that may pay well, but are not in line with their true passions. Here where the attitude towards work ethic is more in line with outside notions, people are markedly less upbeat. This is the consequence of both the lack of job opportunities and the lack of support for fields that do not promise maximum returns on investment. There is also an attitude of selfishness and survivalism that would make Ayn Rand proud. After all, times are tough all around. But are they so tough that it is no longer worth taking the risk of doing something that makes you happy?
The answer to that question can only really be answered by you. But how many kids really wanted to be nurses, salespeople, account managers, or be warm bodies to fill out cubicle farms in call centers and other Business Process Outsourcers? It is undeniable that many of us, myself included, have been drawn into fields we do not desire, out of necessity or (sadly) due pressure exerted by others, including our parents.
As a result, many of us no longer know, or will never know how it is to work to live. Instead, a perverse attitude of living to work has become the norm.
If the purpose of life is to be happy, then this perverted attitude has rendered many lives meaningless.All is well and good if you like your job. The last time I checked, this is not likely to be the case.
Having a bad job may not be so bad with a good support network of friends and family. But what about those who are without it? And do you really want to spend the rest of your life knowing that you had a chance at having it so much better, but you never took it? Are you sure you'd be happier doing what you are doing now than if you did nothing at all or something else entirely?
Of course, the funny thing about working is that if we choose to stop earning anything altogether, someone along the line will have to support us, in most instances. It may be friends, family, the state, or whoever else.These external players choose or feel obligated (or ARE obligated) to support us if we do not or are unable to support ourselves.
The choice is then up to you on how you should repay those that support you, or it will always remain a choice if you want to work at all. There will always be the inalienable right not to do anything if it behooves us. We did not after all choose to exist in the first place. Why should we conform to the standards of a society we had no choice in joining?
In any case, I don't think we should all start bumming out. On the contrary, I think almost everyone can benefit from doing something meaningful. I also happen to find life to be a wonderful thing, well worth financing by any means possible.
It is apparent that today, especially in most places considered to be developed and modern, that there is a huge deficit in happiness. We are not only less happy as a whole, but some would say our we have lowered our standards for happiness.
For many, dying may be the easiest way to escape a life not worthwhile.
*which I do not believe in, but that's a long story.
** even S &M falls under this. Pain for pleasure.
Sources:
http://www.nscb.gov.ph/ncs/10thNCS/abstracts/Invited/43%20Economic%20Accounts/10thNCS_Abstract_RAVirolaJOEncarnacion.pdf
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1029896,00.html
http://dss1.princeton.edu/cgi-bin/dataresources/newdataresources.cgi?term=42
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
On Being Unhappy
Ah... To be happy. Isn't that what life really is about? There really is nothing else.
There have been very few truly happy moments in my life. So few that if I objectively considered it, it would be fewer than the fingers on one hand.
The first of these was before I even started going to school, before my dad was heavily into the affair that broke our family apart. When I was a kid, maybe 3 or 4 years old, I used to sleep between my mom and dad on their bed, because there weren't enough beds to go around just yet. I liked being there right in the middle. I felt so safe and secure, between my mom and dad. There to make me feel even safer was my own special pillow, shaped like a cat.
My mom took care of me a lot more than my dad, since my dad was always at work and she stayed at home with me. She always read me stories from all sorts of books. Sometimes she sang to me. She taught me how to write, though I always wanted to use pencils for drawing rather than writing.
Then for no reason I could understand back then, my dad would disappear on for days or weeks on end. Then for no reason I could understand, my mother stopped reading me stories and she would do nothing. She would then cry all by herself and sleep the whole day, leaving the run of the apartment to me until my sisters went home from school.
Sometimes, my dad would come back, for a few days or sometimes, a few hours at a time. I loved my dad a lot more back then than I do now. I never questioned anything he did. I adored him. Whenever he was back from wherever he went, he always spent a lot of time with me. He taught me all sorts of stuff. Like how cartoons are made. About trains, planes, and automobiles. About hydroelectric plants, Star Wars movies, basketball (if you know me, you'll find that funny), computers, typewriters, aswang, chess, and many more things I still find interesting. He brought me toys, and we all know how much these sorts of things can make a kid happy. More importantly, he was there.
But at that point I knew something was definitely wrong. My parents talked to each other, but seemed distant altogether, even if they slept on the same bed. Then one day, my mother had to go to Manila by herself for a few days.
I couldn't sleep as well as I used to. I was used to sleeping without my dad there, but not without my mother. Even with my dad next to me, I simply couldn't stand being in the dark without my mother.
Then something happened that I would never forget. He turned on the bed lamp. I asked if we could leave it on while I tried to sleep. He said yes. I still couldn't sleep but I felt a lot better. Then after sometime, we began to talk. Leaving that lamp on was the best thing my father ever did for me. After what seemed to be the shortest time, I saw my first sunrise. It was the first time I saw the sun peeking that way through our screen window. The light was weird and it felt unusual to see the room bathed in the purple-gray light of dawn, with the bedlamp shining on me. It was at that instance I felt I had everything, and that nothing more could make things any better. I would not feel that way again until I met the love of my life, just a few years ago.
My dad moved out of the apartment for a good just a few weeks later, after admitting to and refusing to end his affair. June of that year, I started going to school.
As I grew older, I began to understand people, including my parents, a lot better. And after I had relationships and problems of my own, I finally understood how my dad could have done such a thing. It could not have been easy. He was making a conscious decision to make himself happy, perhaps at the expense of everyone in his family. The pursuit of happiness is not necessarily without victims.
Happiness is hard to come by, and so much harder to keep. That's why some might pursue it, no matter the cost to others. That's not something I think I'd do easily. I hope I'm never put in too many situations where I will have to choose.
What's more, the more you know, the more difficult everything is. For example, my sisters hated my father for having his affair a lot more than I did, simply because they actually knew what was going on and understood what was happening, because they were older.
I've long realized that people who sometimes wish they didn't know what they knew or wish they were stupid, would more often than not, wish they were dead or didn't exist. It's just that there are things to do and things to keep doing, and people to keep from being sad, and people to keep from disappointing. Even when we are unhappy, we still want to see what goes next. It also seems we are still often unwilling to take happiness from certain people even if we ourselves are unhappy.
Feeling happy for keeps is hard. Even for those with religion or strong guiding principles in their lives, I'd bet. This is quite a difficult situation as feeling truly good about everything, even for a brief moment is something we all want. Taking advice from people who are already sickeningly chipper is sort of a crapshoot. Not only don't they always get you, there simply is no one way to it. I wish I could find my own.
For many such as myself, the challenge is to simply feel. Anything. Or to be in control. Or too simply experience something new. We will take anything we can get, if there is anything to take.
As for me, life's a show and it's been ok so far. Not that great. I just want to see what happens next.
There have been very few truly happy moments in my life. So few that if I objectively considered it, it would be fewer than the fingers on one hand.
The first of these was before I even started going to school, before my dad was heavily into the affair that broke our family apart. When I was a kid, maybe 3 or 4 years old, I used to sleep between my mom and dad on their bed, because there weren't enough beds to go around just yet. I liked being there right in the middle. I felt so safe and secure, between my mom and dad. There to make me feel even safer was my own special pillow, shaped like a cat.
My mom took care of me a lot more than my dad, since my dad was always at work and she stayed at home with me. She always read me stories from all sorts of books. Sometimes she sang to me. She taught me how to write, though I always wanted to use pencils for drawing rather than writing.
Then for no reason I could understand back then, my dad would disappear on for days or weeks on end. Then for no reason I could understand, my mother stopped reading me stories and she would do nothing. She would then cry all by herself and sleep the whole day, leaving the run of the apartment to me until my sisters went home from school.
Sometimes, my dad would come back, for a few days or sometimes, a few hours at a time. I loved my dad a lot more back then than I do now. I never questioned anything he did. I adored him. Whenever he was back from wherever he went, he always spent a lot of time with me. He taught me all sorts of stuff. Like how cartoons are made. About trains, planes, and automobiles. About hydroelectric plants, Star Wars movies, basketball (if you know me, you'll find that funny), computers, typewriters, aswang, chess, and many more things I still find interesting. He brought me toys, and we all know how much these sorts of things can make a kid happy. More importantly, he was there.
But at that point I knew something was definitely wrong. My parents talked to each other, but seemed distant altogether, even if they slept on the same bed. Then one day, my mother had to go to Manila by herself for a few days.
I couldn't sleep as well as I used to. I was used to sleeping without my dad there, but not without my mother. Even with my dad next to me, I simply couldn't stand being in the dark without my mother.
Then something happened that I would never forget. He turned on the bed lamp. I asked if we could leave it on while I tried to sleep. He said yes. I still couldn't sleep but I felt a lot better. Then after sometime, we began to talk. Leaving that lamp on was the best thing my father ever did for me. After what seemed to be the shortest time, I saw my first sunrise. It was the first time I saw the sun peeking that way through our screen window. The light was weird and it felt unusual to see the room bathed in the purple-gray light of dawn, with the bedlamp shining on me. It was at that instance I felt I had everything, and that nothing more could make things any better. I would not feel that way again until I met the love of my life, just a few years ago.
My dad moved out of the apartment for a good just a few weeks later, after admitting to and refusing to end his affair. June of that year, I started going to school.
As I grew older, I began to understand people, including my parents, a lot better. And after I had relationships and problems of my own, I finally understood how my dad could have done such a thing. It could not have been easy. He was making a conscious decision to make himself happy, perhaps at the expense of everyone in his family. The pursuit of happiness is not necessarily without victims.
Happiness is hard to come by, and so much harder to keep. That's why some might pursue it, no matter the cost to others. That's not something I think I'd do easily. I hope I'm never put in too many situations where I will have to choose.
What's more, the more you know, the more difficult everything is. For example, my sisters hated my father for having his affair a lot more than I did, simply because they actually knew what was going on and understood what was happening, because they were older.
I've long realized that people who sometimes wish they didn't know what they knew or wish they were stupid, would more often than not, wish they were dead or didn't exist. It's just that there are things to do and things to keep doing, and people to keep from being sad, and people to keep from disappointing. Even when we are unhappy, we still want to see what goes next. It also seems we are still often unwilling to take happiness from certain people even if we ourselves are unhappy.
Feeling happy for keeps is hard. Even for those with religion or strong guiding principles in their lives, I'd bet. This is quite a difficult situation as feeling truly good about everything, even for a brief moment is something we all want. Taking advice from people who are already sickeningly chipper is sort of a crapshoot. Not only don't they always get you, there simply is no one way to it. I wish I could find my own.
For many such as myself, the challenge is to simply feel. Anything. Or to be in control. Or too simply experience something new. We will take anything we can get, if there is anything to take.
As for me, life's a show and it's been ok so far. Not that great. I just want to see what happens next.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Francis Magalona's Shirts
I'd rather not talk about how Francis Magalona lived, or about what he left behind when he died. There are far more who knew him better and who could write better on those things.
Instead, I'd rather talk about his line of graphic tees and apparel. Goddamn. I really think he made some ugly shirts. I respect his musical legacy. His shirts, a lot less so. From just an aesthetic point of view. Nothing personal. I'm sure lots of people wear his shirts because of the message or whatever. I don't care. Still ugly.
Instead, I'd rather talk about his line of graphic tees and apparel. Goddamn. I really think he made some ugly shirts. I respect his musical legacy. His shirts, a lot less so. From just an aesthetic point of view. Nothing personal. I'm sure lots of people wear his shirts because of the message or whatever. I don't care. Still ugly.
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