Archive for June, 2009

Suspended Anne-Imation

Suspended Anne-Imation

DSC00350

The Saturday morning was spent at Antipolo, so the guys and I were off to The Fort to eat or whatnot.  It’s been a while since I’ve been to Katipunan, and the intersections leading to White Plains – or is that Eastwood – aren’t that familiar to me.  From the car, though, I saw that charming sight that never fails to put a small smile on my face: an Anne Curtis billboard.  The cheerful smile, the twinkle in her eyes, and just about everything a two-dimensional Photoshopped poster can show.

In Camera Lucida, Roland Barthes writes that there are many forces that come into play in a photograph.  There’s what the photographer wants the subject to be, and there’s what the subject wants to portray.  The photograph is more than an imitation; it’s a moment in the here-and-now where the subject becomes a ghost, a specter of sorts.  What best reflects the here-and-now but the photograph?  Like Anne Curtis, for example; eternally beautiful, eternally crush-able, and in more ways than one, larger than life?

I kept on staring.  Thank heavens for stoplights, even at high noon.  I could look at that picture all day.  I could forget about those other billboards that used to make commutes a bit more bearable.

The signal light was about to turn green as I was fumbling for my phone.  It almost seemed like forever to disengage the slider, to point the phone to the billboard, and take that one picture.  The cheerful smile, the twinkle in her eyes, and just about everything one snapshot of a snapshot can show.

Still, she’s pretty.

June 13, 2009 0 comments Read More
Freedom Day

Freedom Day

My politics does not agree with the term “independence.”  The word implies owing; that the piece of paper that declares identity and self-determination is but a debt repaid.  The word implies something deserved; medals to the honored as treats to well-behaved dogs.  ”Independence” implies an absence of dependence, or at least, a lurking presence of a previous relationship.

I don’t like to call it “independence.”  The heroes fought for nothing less than freedom.

The struggle to freedom is never-ending, and it should not stop.  The challenges to our essential freedoms will always be there, and there will always be things that stand in the way of realizing true freedom and independence (for whatever the latter is worth).  We do not surrender rights, or give them up at the expense of other privileges.  If we’re not prepared to struggle, to fight, to take, and perhaps even to die for freedom, you’re better off without it.  If you’re prepared to surrender freedom, you’re better off being a slave.

I question the politics of our independence, its authenticity, and how genuine it is.  I question the idea that we owe other nations our independence, on the basis of a piece of paper or the “altruism” of colonizers.  I question the idea that independence and freedom are things that we should “keep in mind.”  We fight for it, we struggle for it, and we resist the chains – break them – that keep us bound to an existence that makes us independent by recognition, and yet our freedom is always put into question.

I am not a patriot.  I do not wear three-stars-and-a-sun, and I do not wave the flag of this country.  Yet I struggle for that freedom, and I long for the day that we go beyond independence, and realize that flags, marches, and declarations written on pieces of paper make a country with borders.  Yet in that country with borders, freedom will be challenged.

We must fight, we must dissent, we must resist.

June 12, 2009 0 comments Read More
There We Stood at Ayala

There We Stood at Ayala

dsc00335June 10, 2009. After a deep, heavy drag, the cigarette butt felt the crushing movement of my foot.  From where I was standing, the smells of steamed peanuts, grilled dried squid, and corn on the cob were tempting.  Yet just across the street from SGV, I could hear the drums beating, feet marching, the chants and shouts.  I could see the flags and banners waving in the wind.

From a short distance away, at Ayala Triangle, a throng of people gathered.  ”No to Con-Ass!” was the common cause.  I was expecting the crowd to be bigger, but I’ve never seen this many people in a rally.

For this smoking mountain boy, who joined and led rallies of a few dozen – perhaps a hundred, on a lucky day – the crowd looked huge.  Those were the days that I used to carry flags, sulô, the ocassional megaphone, or marshalled the lines.  For those who call Manila their home, the June 10 throng is a rather thin crowd.  To me, though, it had all the makings of the secret longing I have for a big rally.

As I made my way to Insular where my friends await, I took a good, long look at the people I was going to rally with.  There were the society folk; those who came with face powder and moisturizer.  There were the farmers and urban poor; a man who had just one slipper bummed a cigarette from me as I picked my way through the people in the crowd.  Some familiar flags were somewhere along the crossroads of Paseo de Roxas and Ayala Avenue; flags that reminded me of earlier times, when I still had the gall to frontline a rally and face police officers if need be.

I’ve long since admitted to myself that when you convene at the Parliament of the Streets, don’t expect perfect attendance.  As a friend of mine says, all people need is a trigger to go out to the streets and support a cause with fervent passion and unbridled rage.  It’s never about instant results, no matter how dismayed you can be at first and depress yourself with the idea that you probably didn’t do your share.  The point is that you’re never alone when you’re rallying; people took time out from their lives to hang out, to watch, and for many office workers, give a thumbs-up and leave, braving the difficulties of a re-routed commute.

There we stood at Ayala.  The calls for justice, the clamor for accountability, and the demand for explanations and justifications.  There were those who expressed their dissent by defacing portraits of Congressmen, there were those who scrawled their anger in chalk at the sidewalk just behind Tower One.  There were those who screamed, shouted, chanted.  There were those who gathered on the streets to discuss the issues.  Democracy, dissent… just like I imagined it to be.

I lit another cigarette.  For that one day, dissent lives in the streets of Ayala.

June 11, 2009 0 comments Read More
To Dissent

To Dissent

The foundations of our democracy is not rooted in just mere disagreement, but dissent.  Our country was not founded on dinner table talks or roundtable discussions, but by resistance and dissent at all costs.  We did not negotiate our rights and our freedom.  Dissent is the way we take back what is truthfully, rightfully, and justly ours.  Dissent is a right and is the way to freedom.

I don’t have to run down a laundry list of examples.  Lots of us don’t believe in dissent anymore.  Many of us believe that dissent is trivialized.  Many of us believe that an act of dissent is nothing more than an act of publicity, a way to infamy, that dissent is to sow the seeds of discord and to compromise unity.

I will not sit idly by and have my freedom, my rights, and my identity taken away from me.

I think it was Malcolm X once said, “If you’re not ready to fight for it, take the word ‘freedom’ out of your vocabulary.”  I believe that free people are not bystanders; free people do not confine themselves to the prison of the sidelines.  The free will act on a belief, whether it’s for it or against it.  Those who are free will engage the challenges confronting and obstructing their freedom.  The free will dissent.

This freedom – dissent – is one of the many reasons why I am going to the Ayala rally tomorrow.

June 9, 2009 0 comments Read More
Lyrics Translations: I Should Be Writing About Politics Right Now But RLY.

Lyrics Translations: I Should Be Writing About Politics Right Now But RLY.

I have the feeling that much of this whole deal with HR 1109 will probably be bollocksed by a lot of my-analysis-is-better-than-yours deals.  Even if I sort of unleashed a couple of catchphrases to the whole shebang of blog-talk.

WOOT!  There, I said it.  Now I can die happy!

Well… not really.  OK, I was kidding.

I believe that I have been very crystal clear with my points against Con-Ass, and even hate mail doesn’t bother me any more as much as it should (well, it does, but kebs, at least now I have enemies because I’m a punk kid destabilizer wasting his future).  Now that I’m unusually bored – and I’ll probably whoop more Con-Ass over the next few… hours, if I feel like it and if I still happen to be alive – I guess a few lyrics translations will get me creative enough to reiterate points.

Anyway, here we go.

TRANSLATION 1. Karaoke always starts somewhere, and before the Tom Jones hits start blaring on minus-one (I never really understood what “minus one” means), there was always the “stock song;” everyone sang it whether they had the microphone or not.  One of those stock songs is “Sad to Belong.”  Here goes.

Sadyang Kay Lungkot Magmahal Ng Iba

Transliteration of “Sad to Belong” by England Dan and John Ford Coley

Isang araw, nakilala ka
Inintidi ang sariling buhay
Kagaya ko
Nang lumingon ka sa akin
Nadama ang takot at kaba
At nalaman ko

O sadyang kay lungkot magmahal ng iba
Kung ang tamang tao’y darating
O sadyang kay lungkot magmahal ng iba
Kung ang tamang tao’y darating

Magigising sa gitna ng gabi
At titingin sa aking tabi
Aasang nariyan ka
Pero siya ang aking nakita
Siya na naniwala
Nang sabihin ko na “Mahal kita”

O sadyang kay lungkot magmahal ng iba
Kung ang tamang tao’y darating
O sadyang kay lungkot magmahal ng iba
Kung ang tamang tao’y darating

Kaya ako’y mabubuhay sa panaginip lang magpakailanman
Magkahawak kamay, o, tayong dal’wa, pero panaginip lang
O baka ang lahat ay hanggang diyan na lamang…

Sana’y maibalik ang kahapon
At kung pwede sanang bumalik
Sa ‘king pagkasilang
Buong buhay ay uulitin
Para mabuhay muli na
Ikaw ang minamahal

O sadyang kay lungkot magmahal ng iba
Kung ang tamang tao’y darating
O sadyang kay lungkot magmahal ng iba
Kung ang tamang tao’y darating

O sadyang kay lungkot magmahal ng iba
Kung ang tamang tao’y darating
O sadyang kay lungkot magmahal ng iba
Kung ang tamang tao’y darating

TRANSLATION 2. Seriously, I wanted to do something like “Single Ladies” by Beyonce Knowles (Sasha Fierce… it’s just a glove, woman) or “If You Seek Amy,” but I decided to stick with an old (LOL) song by Brit-Brit.  Who would sing this song, I would not know.

Isang Sapak, ‘Sang Beses Pa

Transliteration of “Hit Me Baby One More Time” by Britney Spears

O aking giliw, pano ko ba dapat nalaman
Na merong mali dito
O aking giliw, bakit pa kita pinakawalan
Wala ka na sa paningin ko

O ipakita kung ano ang tama
Sabihin mo na, gusto kong malaman na, ngayon na

Pag-iisa’y pinapatay ako (at ako ay)
Umaamin sa tiwala ko (tiwala)
Kung di ka kasama’y ako’y nababaliw
Senyales na…
Isang sapak, ‘sang beses pa

O aking giliw, ikaw ang dahilan ng paghinga
Ako’y nabulag sa iyo
Magandang giliw, walang di gagawin para sa iyo
Hindi iyon planado

O ipakita kung ano ang tama
Sabihin mo na, gusto kong malaman na, ngayon na

Pag-iisa’y pinapatay ako (at ako ay)
Umaamin sa tiwala ko (tiwala)
Kung di ka kasama’y ako’y nababaliw
Senyales na…
Isang sapak, ‘sang beses pa

O aking giliw, pano ko ba dapat nalaman
O aking giliw, bakit pa kita pinakawalan

Inaaamin, na king pag-iisa
Pinapatay na ako
Ako’y naniniwala pa rin
Na narito ka
Senyales na…. isang sapak, ‘sang beses pa

Pag-iisa’y pinapatay ako (at ako ay)
Umaamin sa tiwala ko (tiwala)
Kung di ka kasama’y ako’y nababaliw
Senyales na…
Isang sapak, ‘sang beses pa

Pag-iisa’y pinapatay ako (at ako ay)
Umaamin sa tiwala ko (tiwala)
Kung di ka kasama’y ako’y nababaliw
Senyales na…
Isang sapak, ‘sang beses pa

TRANSLATION 3. I don’t know Portuguese, but I decided to do some research on what “Lança Perfume” means, outside of being a mating call for Triceratops.  Here’s a favorite marching band deal, although I didn’t know it was a drug or something like that.

Ether Perfume Spray

Transliteration of “Lança Perfume” by Rita Lee

Ether, throw me, throw me all of that ether spray
Getting immune from psychedelic sprays on my way
When we make love, I smell a crazy wild thing going on…

Smells very good, with your affection you unglue me
I feel so fine, so calm with kisses that you give me
Reminds me of, the kind of sweet pleasure between you and me

Oh like water
It turns me head over heels and
Makes me think of cats and shoes and
It makes me want to leave at four and
It fills me with love… oh love yeah

Ether, throw me, throw me all of that ether spray
Getting immune from psychedelic sprays on my way
When we make love, I smell a crazy wild thing going on…

Smells very good, with your affection you unglue me
I feel so fine, so calm with kisses that you give me
Reminds me of, the kind of sweet pleasure between you and me

Oh like water
It turns me head over heels and
Makes me think of cats and shoes and
It makes me want to leave at four and
It fills me with love… oh love yeah

Oh ether… ether perfume spray
Ether, ether perfume spray
Either, ether perfume spray

TRANSLATION 4. Here I was torn between “dulas” and “kinis,” but I kind of wonder if anyone has a thing for slippery mamacitas.

Ang Kinis Mo

Transliteration of “Smooth” by Carlos Santana and Rob Thomas

Naiinitan
Parang lapit sa araw pitong pulgada lang
Dinig ang bulong mo ang natutunaw ang lahat
Pero ang lamig mo

Aking manika, Mona Lisa sa Harlem na Kastila
Ikaw ang dahilan ng dahilan ko
Yapak sa sayaw ko

Ang sabi mo, ‘tong buhay ay di sapat
Ibibigay ang mundo para ika’y umangat
Babaguhin ko ang buhay ko para sa nadarama mo
Ang kinis mo

Parang karagatan sa ilalim ng buwan
Ang nakukuha ko sa yo na king nararamdaman
Ang kinis ng pagmamahal na nasa iyo
Bigay mo ang puso mo, totoo
O kalimutan natin

‘Tong sasabihin
Kung ika’y aalis, wag mo kong pahiyain
Bawat hinga at salita, ang pangalan mo, tinatawag ako
Pag-alis ng barrio dinig mong tunog ko sa iyong radyo
Dama ang pag-ikot ng mundo, swabe’t mabagal
Paikut-ikutin ka

Ang sabi mo, ‘tong buhay ay di sapat
Ibibigay ang mundo para ika’y umangat
Babaguhin ko ang buhay ko para sa nadarama mo
Ang kinis mo

Parang karagatan sa ilalim ng buwan
Ang nakukuha ko sa yo na king nararamdaman
Ang kinis ng pagmamahal na nasa iyo
Bigay mo ang puso mo, totoo
O kalimutan natin

Parang karagatan sa ilalim ng buwan
Ang nakukuha ko sa yo na king nararamdaman
Ang kinis ng pagmamahal na nasa iyo
Bigay mo ang puso mo, totoo
O kalimutan natin

TRANSLATION 5. I loved doing this translation, by the way.

Bungangang Gunggong

Transliteration of “My Stupid Mouth” by John Mayer

Bungangang gunggong
Muli akong dale
Dami ko na namang sinabi
Sa dalagang ka-date ko kagabi

Nakita kong
Sobra siyang diyahe
Sabi niya “Di bale,”
Ibang usapan na lang

Oh, patay na sa lipunan ko
Free throw na naman
Bakit nakalimutan
Payo ni Inay, “Hinay-hinay lang”
‘Lang fiter ulo ko
Anong gagawin ko?
Mahanap na rin sa susunod

Kagat labi, tingin sa bintana
Nagpagulong ng tissue hanggang maging bola
Chess ba naman sa lalagyan ng asin at ng paminta
Kita ko na man, ang isang linyang di mabura
Sa kung anong tama at sa nadulas lang na maling salita

Oh, nagbago ang tingin niya sa kin
Talo sa laro, kaya ulitin
Bakit nakalimutan
Payo ni Inay, “Hinay-hinay lang”
‘Lang fiter ulo ko
Anong gagawin ko?
Mahanap na rin sa susunod

Di magsasalita muli
Nasasaktan lang
Sana’y ako’y guni-guni
Kaysa ako’y iwan

Di na magsasalita muli
Mula ngayon
Mula ngayon

‘Sang hirit pa
Di ko kasalanan
Baka sineryoso ko lang
O baka dahil sa nadarama
Nagpapapansin
Kunwari patawa pa
Joke-joke-joke lang sa kin
Ako na si Kapitan Karma

Oh, patay na sa lipunan ko
Free throw na naman
Bakit nakalimutan
Payo ni Inay, “Hinay-hinay lang”
‘Lang fiter ulo ko
Anong gagawin ko?
Mahanap na rin sa susunod

Di magsasalita muli
Nasasaktan lang
Sana’y ako’y guni-guni
Kaysa ako’y iwan

Di na magsasalita muli
Di na magsasalita muli
Di na magsasalita muli
Mula ngayon
Mula ngayon

TRANSLATION 6 (Marocharim Translation Challenge). They say it can’t be done.  I did it anyway.

Sa Sangandaan

Transliteration of “Tha Crossroads” by Bone Thugs N’ Harmony

Buto buto buto buto, buto buto, buto buto, buto, buto, buto buto
Buto buto buto buto, buto buto, buto buto, buto, buto, buto buto
Anong gagawin mo ngayon, gayong walang matatakbuhan
Kung parating ang hatol sa ‘yo, ang hatol sa ‘yo
Anong gagawin mo ngayon, gayong walang matatakbuhan
Kung parating ang hatol sa ‘yo, ang hatol sa ‘yo

Halina’t lahat para kay Wally, nakita ni Eazy si Uncle Charlie
Kinuha ng Diyos si Boo at, mami-miss ko kayo lahat
Kasama lang ang Bone at gang, tingin kung saan nakalibing
Kung kalaro ang kapalaran, kay lalim ng sasabihin
Si Layzie lumapit sa akin, sinabi kung mamatay man, sige OK lang
Ilibing mo ko kasama ang lolo ko, kung kaya mo, sundan mo ko

O Diyos ko, may plano para sa langit, sundin ang Utos beinte-quatro siyete
Panalig ay sa Diyos pa rin, kahit demonyo’y nagpamukha na sa akin
Linigtas Niya ko sa tiyak na pahamak
Para kung magunaw na lahat, at sa Huling Hatol na
Kaluluwa ko’y di matitinag
Pagkat walang patawad sa tulad kong hamak
Oh, anong magagawa ko, sa pamilya ko’t sa ‘king mga katoto
Saksi lang ang hinihingi ko
Nabubuhay para sa kaluluwa ko…

Oh, dasal nagdarasal dasal nagdarasal
Lagi’t lagi, bawat oras at parati
Oh, dasal nagdarasal dasal nagdarasal
Ganun pa rin

Sundan mong lakad ko
Kahit pag-iisip nya sa langit
Halina’t dalawin sila na pumanaw na
Darris, Wally, Eazy, Terry, Boo
Sinusunod na bawat nasa pamilya
Ilan pa ba talaga ang oras na natitira
Habang tumatawa, unti-unti kaming nawawala

Isa-Diyos ang kaluluwa niyo
Sa sangandaan, makikita kayo
Alam niyo, pagmamahal lang ng Bone Thugs makukuha nyo
Pero si Eazy ay wala na
Sana’y umuwi na
Pero kung mamamatay
Mamamaalam pa’y
Kaya lang gawi’y iyakin siya
Patay nang aso ko
Nami-miss ko na si Tito Charles, yo
‘Bat siya pinatay, sa harap ng kanyang bahay
Ginawa nila kay Boo’y mali
Napakamali
Kaya kapit lang, konting tatag lang
Darating din ang araw na yon
May balikat ka rin sasandalan, sandalan

Oh, dasal nagdarasal dasal nagdarasal
Lagi’t lagi, bawat oras at parati
Oh, dasal nagdarasal dasal nagdarasal
Lagi’t lagi, bawat oras at parati

Sa may sangandaan, para di maulila
Sa may sangandaan, para di maulila
Sa may sangandaan, para di maulila
Sa may sangandaan, para di maulila

Mami-miss lahat kayo eh
Mami-miss kayo lahat eh
Mami-miss lahat kayo eh
Mami-miss kayo lahat eh

Mundong aking kagalit, deretso na sa langit
Ganyan ang ikot ko
Mundong aking kagalit, deretso na sa langit
Ganyan ang ikot ko
Mundong aking kagalit, deretso na sa langit
Ganyan ang ikot ko
O bakit po, Diyos ko, bakit ganito
Mabubuhay ba o mamamatay ako

Ano bang pagpapaslang, yo, bitay pinsan ko
Talagang may mali dito, isa bang pagsusulit to
Miss Sleazy’y nakipagkontsaba para si Eazy’y malaglag
Di namin kasalanan to
Si Krayzie nama’y siya na mismong pumaraan, nag-isip
Babalik, babalik muli’t muli
Ano ba’ng gagawin mo tsong
Sabihin mo sa kin bakit ba?
Hoy, sabihin mo sa kin bakit may namamatay?
Ayokong mamatay

Mali to… mali to…

Sa may sangandaan, para di maulila
Sa may sangandaan, para di maulila
Sa may sangandaan, para di maulila
Sa may sangandaan, para di maulila

June 8, 2009 2 comments Read More
The Minor Inconvenience of a Sunday Afternoon

The Minor Inconvenience of a Sunday Afternoon

When I was younger, I took to the streets in the kind of way we all associate rallies with.  The lines of a rally always found me with a megaphone, a burning torch, a flag, a banner, or placards printed in red paint.  That was years ago, when I would willingly step into the paths of oncoming vehicles to prove a point.  Traffic is a minor inconvenience for conviction and beliefs.  If need be, I would face police officers, or the indignation of passers-by who tell us to go home as loudly as we chanted.

Sunday afternoon found me in the streets of Manila, riding the pedicab from Pedro Gil to Malate Church.  I should have disembarked from Quirino, but there are things you forget when you’re lost in thought.  The yellow canvas cover of the padyak wasn’t helping, either; it made me a bit self-conscious.  I could have walked the left-turn right-turn corners to take a good, long look at the streets of Manila, and if any afternoon inuman session would have been punctuated by discussions of Con-Ass.

You’re expecting too much, I thought, as the pedicab went through the laborious lefts and rights.  I was reminded of that Mar Roxas commercial; if I’m going to save the world before bedtime today, I would have had compassion on the old man taking me on a “tour” to a short distance to Malate Church.  I would have pedaled the rickety vehicle on my own all the way to Aristocrat, where Sparks, Dementia, and Phoebe were waiting.

We were soon joined by Juned, Jayvee, Sha, and Karla.  The small group of silent protesters at Baywalk wasn’t the massive movement we were expecting.  We weren’t more than 30, I think.  Save for that police officer Sparks managed to talk with while she was buying ice cream, me and the guys were having the time of the week just being sprayed by the stink of Manila Bay.

“Explain Yourselves.”  ”No to Con-Ass.”  Thirty people at RockEd’s protest, demanding an explanation from the House of Representatives for railroading HR 1109.  Thirty people reminded to go to Ayala on Wednesday, if they can, to protest Con-Ass.  No megaphones, no sloganeering, no willing intent to cause traffic; just that sincere conviction in good citizenship.  Pshaw and tush to “protest fatigue,” the obsolescence of indignation, and how resistance is futile.

I don’t know if the pedicab driver who took me to Baywalk knew anything about Con-Ass, or if the passers-by who watched us there with handmade placards understood what we meant to say and what we believed in.  I wouldn’t know if we did anything particularly grand or world-changing that afternoon.  Somehow, I have the feeling it wasn’t, and it didn’t.

I sort of realized – and understood – why indignation cannot be obsolete, and resistance can never be futile.  For so long as people fight for what they believe is right and true, there will always be indignation on the streets.  There will always be those who will fight.  There will always be people who will take on the minor inconvenience of a Sunday afternoon to go to a place peacefully, and express their dissent and disapproval of something that violates them.  It’s not pogi points to a pretty girl somewhere in that rally, or tsamba points to while away boredom.  The basic tenets of citizenship cannot be marred by the idea that the little silent protest in Baywalk was probably less than what we all expected it to be.

There are moments that I wish a spirit of EDSA existed, or that people would just care more about what’s going on in the society that they’re in.  There are moments that I wish people would just stop being cynics in a perpetual state of surrender, and move from the sidelines to act within the bounds of conscience and what they believe in.  The frustration builds, but yeah, it’s always tempered when you know you’re not alone.  That if you’re going to a rally or a protest, someone will always be there with you.

I made my way back home, to more familiar routes and the familiar sounds of tricycles and novelty songs blared over giant speakers.  As I write this entry to lull myself to sleep, I realized one thing, at the very least.

The minor inconvenience of a Sunday afternoon wasn’t that bad.  Yup, not bad at all.

June 8, 2009 2 comments Read More