No, I’m not talking about one of my favorite drinking spots at Metrowalk (never mind that it’s noisy and queer, but they have cheap beer… and the best sisig in the city of Pasig… hey, that rhymed).  I’m talking about the English language.

I do remember that almost a year ago, I participated in a certain blog writing contest which won me this domain… which begs a revisit.

I remember a piece at the Baguio Midland Courier written by a schoolmate of mine back in high school – Conviron Altatis, if I’m not mistaken – where the youth were exhorted to learn and master the English language.  While I could hold my own in written English, I have problems with spoken English.  I still have something called tardive dyskinesia.  While I can speak straight English without a hitch, my speech is still pretty much slurred at some parts, so I can’t hold my own at a call center.

As usual, it takes a worse problem than mine to put things into perspective.

Owing to some financial setbacks, a friend of mine had to apply for a job at a call center.  The problem was that she had an accent problem, and she admits that she doesn’t have a good command of the English language.  In a call center, you’re paid as much for the quality of your English as you are paid to take bullshit from anonymous customers half a world away.

So she didn’t get the job.

I’m not a very introspective person; I don’t ruminate over the many grand and profound implications of something.  Besides, I only have one stomach.  Yet it kind of makes me think a lot about language.  If I remember my linguistics correctly (and here we go…), the linguistic tradition exemplified by Ferdinand de Saussure puts primacy on spoken language (la parole) above written language (la langue).  Later on, Edward Sapir and Benjamin Whorf put forward two corollaries to this assumption:

1. For something to have a rudimentary linguistic significance, it has to be grounded on experience.
2. Any experience can be committed to speech, whether it’s an utterance or a word.

Jacques Derrida argued that the question here is not a matter of primacy but of difference, but I think that I’ve already invoked one too many theories off the top of my head.  What I do need to point out is that in the real world, nobody gives a rat’s ass about what takes primacy and precedence over the other.  It’s all about utility, sensibility, and practicality.

Like a lot of things in life, things can be summarized in two simple bullet-points:

• If you’re paid to write, written language is more important than spoken language.
• If you’re paid to speak, spoken language is more important than written language.

Well thank you, Mr. Stating-the-Obvious.

Don’t get me wrong: I have nothing against the necessity of mastering the English language.  While it is the language of imperialist capitalist predators that prey upon the oppressed proletariat (…yeah…), it is the language that pays bills for your typical call center agent.  English is no longer a language that gives you a competitive edge: it is a language of survival.  Yet it is not kikay-coffee-shop-I’ll-drink-absinthe-even-if-reminds-me-of-urinal-cakes English that makes this survival possible, but proper English. American English.

Do I have a problem with it?  Yes.  It’s not because we should enforce nationalistic fervor by speaking in Filipino, but because the imperative of English does not produce people who are competent with the language.  Learning English cannot be rushed; you’d be surprised at how many call center agents speak in a kind of English that grates on the inner membranes of your spinal cord, or write in a kind of English that will stop short of reducing your brain into a throbbing medulla.  Instead of learning the language, most people who work at the call center industry are forced to learn mechanical phrases for sales and tech support.

“Globally competitive?”  I don’t think so.  What we need is a comprehensive, “down-there” study of the applications of proper English, whether it’s conversational or formal.  It’s not the call center agent’s fault that the word “actually” is mispronounced, much less abused as a conjunction and an interjection.  This task must be shouldered by the Philippine educational system; not for the sake of making more call center agents, but for the sake of being truly globally competitive.  Or heck, even for the sake of propriety.

I know it sucks, but that’s the way the world works.  You don’t blame the agents, much less engage in a blame game.  You go after the weaknesses of the structure.

Suffice to say, the suckiness of it can be summed up not in bullet points, but in three words: English, or perish.

Over some random instant messages, me and Tonyo both agree that wi-fi is beneficial, if not important, for blogging.  I’m still pretty much an Internet cafe blogger, but I managed to leach 15% wi-fi connectivity with a can of Pringles.  I still find wi-fi blogging to be rather obnoxious, if not irritating; it works for people like me who are on the go (although sometimes I wish I had an ultraportable like an Asus EEE instead of a fullsize laptop), but I can’t help but give myself a kick in the ass every time I’m forced to multi-task.  Right now, I’m eating dinner, checking e-mails, wondering why StatPress doesn’t work, and pissing myself off.

The kick in the ass part is rather simple.  I was against oppressive forms of capitalism and imperialism in my younger days, and here I am doing the following things:

• Eating at McDonald’s
• Using a laptop
• Writing in the English language

I know it’s a narrow-minded way to put things into perspective, but when you’re pissed off and harrassed from a lot of corporate wrist-slashing emoness, well… it sure beats hypocrisy and excuse-making by a long shot.

At least I’m not in a coffee shop.

Shoutouts go to my colleagues at FilipinoVoices.com, the brainchild of Nick, for being voted as one of the top 10 emerging influential blogs of 2008.  My apologies have to go to Jeanette Toral; this writer-freelance-journalist-self-proclaimed-rockstar-self-ascribed-stand-up-comedian has, in a live video stream of the event, said “ass” six times and came this close to saying the F word.

Whatever.  By the way, see you at WordCamp Philippines 2008.

Next on The Marocharim Experiment: a lengthy entry on outsourcing and cigarettes.

Updated at 6:30 PM

I have two years to prepare myself to eat my own foot, but I think and feel that this will be how things will turn out in the 2010 national elections…

The Presidency

It’s tough to float names, but I think the following people will rise up as contenders for the Presidency in 2010:

• Manny Villar
• Mar Roxas
• Bayani Fernando
• Ping Lacson
• Ely “Spike” Pamatong

I would personally campaign for Spike Boy for my own personal amusement, but it will be a cut-throat race between Mr. Palengke (Roxas) and Mr. Sipag at Tiyaga (Villar). I’m betting on Roxas; no, not because we met, but because so far, he has the youth on his side. Villar is just too trapo for most people I know. Not that he deserves the epithet, but I don’t know if his rags-to-riches story will work too well with the public.

Some side-notes on BF: I think that he’s the dark horse of the 2010 Presidential campaign.  As much as I don’t like Bayani, I have the gut feeling that if anyone will pull a surprise (if not a victory) in 2010, it definitely has to be him.  The challenge to BF is to expand the vote outside Metro Manila… although in an election where the Manila vote counts for a lot, don’t be surprised if BF lives up to the hype.

Ping has always been a strong contender for the Presidency, but he simply can’t translate votes for the Executive.  He’s always up in the running for the Presidency, but he just doesn’t win.  I don’t really know why.

If there’s anything that list would show, it’s that 2010 wouldn’t be a referendum on Arroyo.  More on that next time.

The Vice-Presidency

Again, it’s tough to float names, but I think the following will rise up as contenders for the second-highest post of the land:

• Loren Legarda
• Alan Peter Cayetano
• Chiz Escudero
• Jamby Madrigal
• Kiko Pangilinan

I’d be lying if I didn’t bet on a victory for Chiz, setting this scenario.  The “automatic” choice would be Loren, but I doubt if the public perception of her is still the same positive one she had in droves before.  Chiz, for all intents and purposes, is the Barack Obama of the Philippines; he has charisma points and kind of positions himself on the “audacity of hope” agenda that is something from Barack’s playbook.

I personally would like to see Chiz and Alan duke it out for the Vice-Presidency of the land.  Say what you will about Alan, but you can only imagine the youth vote taking center stage here.  As for Jamby… well, if you make waves, then you have to have ambitions.

I should add Jinggoy Estrada or Bong Revilla in this list, but I don’t think “Erap Magic” or star power will make them strong contenders for the post.  I think that both these guys do stand a chance, but we all have to wait for that one good reason why they’re worth it.

And then there’s the dark horse: Kiko Pangilinan.  Kiko blends star power with political magic, and I can honestly say that if Chiz loses (there’s a good chance he will), Kiko will be the next Vice-President of the Philippines.

Senators

And here we go… time to do some foot-eating in the future.  Here are just a few of who I’m thinking of right now:

• Romy Macalintal. I don’t know why, but I just have a feeling that the election lawyer will seek election.  Macalintal has this talent of coming into the public consciousness come election season.  Besides, if we’re talking about implicit candidacies, Macalintal has a billboard for that joint-pain thing.
• Prospero Pichay. I’m not saying that Pichay will win, all I’m saying here is that Pichay will run, and have a strong showing.  What intrigues me the most about Pichay is that unlike the other members of the previous administrative ticket, he wasn’t really an “embarrassment;” he actually drew votes on the basis of a novelty campaign that involved a sucky catchphrase and bok choy. Here’s to hoping that I can be proven wrong by the former Congressman.
• Joey de Venecia/Jun Lozada. I don’t know, I don’t want to know, but I have the feeling.  JoeyDV can be the heir-apparent to JDV.  Lozada… well, only time will tell.  I personally shudder at the thought, but that’s another story.
• Willie Revillame/Joey de Leon. Figures.  If either one of them wins… heaven knows what I’m going to do.  Expect privilege speeches that will involve “sinungaling at mandaraya” and rants about ratings.  Forget about eating my foot, I will think about making a promise to immolate myself in front of Batasan.
• Danton Remoto. I may disagree with Danton (his blog here) on more than a few occasions, but now that I know that he’s in the running for the Senate, I think that the LGBT agenda will have a strong showing knowing that Danton is representing the group at the legislative level.  So for all you haters who think that Marocharim should be cruicified for being a “homophobe,” there you go: I support Danton Remoto’s bid.
• Jarius Bondoc. The guy was once backed by Jovito Salonga.  Another journalist in the Senate?  Loren Legarda 2.0?  I hope not, although if you’re asking me if I’d support the man’s bid… hmmm… I guess I would.
• Winston Garcia. This short list would not be complete without the mention of a guy who has positioned himself well enough to jettison (?) himself to a Senate seat.  Winston Garcia positioned himself very well within the public eye with the Meralco feud.  I rue the day it happens, but never say never.

Well, so much for a positive outlook.  I’ll be 25 come 2010, so you have to wait 10 years.

I was checking out Original TMX and had one serious laugh trip.  Back then, I used to pay so much attention to the way my blog looks, and even installed a chatterbox.  On the tagboard of my old blog, I found a rather interesting… proposal, which was so funny I just have to blog about it:

For purposes of translation, an apparently “hot girl” named “sexy_katrina4″ is apparently attempting to solicit cybersex from yours truly.  It’s a sickening reminder, but I have zero experience with legitimate sex, much less cybersex.  Hmmm… maybe I should take up the offer of the sexy fourth Katrina without a surname, admit to myself that I’m a pervert, and have at least one thing to brag about to my friends when the topic of sex comes up (so to speak).

I’m not a moralist, but cybersex is wrong.  If you watched “Napoleon Dynamite” before, you would know that the people you get to meet on the Internet - much less “have sex with” - would probably not be who you were really expecting.  Like when Kip met LaFawnduh.  Worse, you may even end up in an online sexual predator sting operation and find yourself condemned, shunned, and ostracized by even by the denizens of McDonaldland because you’re the type of person who would have sexual intercourse with Grimace, doing the “Brokeback Mountain” thing at The Hamburger Patch.

So who says that “I wish I knew how to quit you?” line again… can Grimace even talk?

Of course, if I stumble off my rocker again, I might just take up the offer for cybersex.  The bad thing is, I’m a blogger.  Pardon me while I make a stereotypical comment about bloggers in general, but there is no way I’m going to pass up the chance of telling the entire world how my sexual encounter with sexy fourth Katrina without a surname went.  I’ll do the smut-on-the-Interweb thing myself.  With my virtual 27-inch genetic jackhammer, I ended up virtually ploughing sexy fourth Katrina without a surname’s virtual steaming, juicy virtual love tunnel.  Oh yes, she virtually took all 27 inches of my rock-hard virtual love rod.

Well, so much for bragging rights.  Sorry, sexy fourth Katrina without a surname, this 27-inch anaconda ain’t leaving the jungles of the Amazon.

Don’t get any ideas, pervert.

If you’re wondering where I am, I’m at McDonald’s.  I have a full view of KC Concepcion’s posters for BAYO, and a full view of my least-favorite species in the animal kingdom: Homo sapiens sapiens.

I have zero fashion sense: I’m just a jeans-shirt-jacket fellow.  The only way I know how to “spice up” my usual non-fashionable self is when I wear boots, which are very impractical when you’re aboard the MRT and you’re walking from the Shaw Boulevard platform to Ortigas Center.  However, my jologs fashion sense had me developing a rather keen eye for the fashion sense of other people.

Like Makati City party girls who wear ultra-short miniskirts and shorts even if they have ensaymada dough for legs.  Or old women who think that glutathione makes them look less like Jason Voorhees… although they look like Michael Myers.  Leatherface, even.  Rather than make women look like movie stars, glutathione and whitening agents have the opposite effect.

And then there’s the fashion sense of fathers everywhere: the collared, short-sleeved polo shirt.  Nothing speaks more of corporate fatherhood than wearing a Lacoste polo shirt, jeans, and leather loafers.  I think the inventor of the Daddy-Do should be awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for changing the way we look at fatherhood in general.

Or that annoying trend of today, Abner Mercado’s abel Iloco scarf.  I don’t know what’s up with that, and I certainly don’t know what’s up with emo kids wearing it with their skinny jeans and Paramore t-shirts.  Then they take pictures of themselves at comfort rooms at Gateway… I just hope they don’t go to Recto.

Which begs the question… who the f**k is Paramore?