Peepo Pawah!!! and War in Mindanao...

War is supposedly raging in Mindanao. Many lives are lost, bodies returning home in body bags. Mistakes are happening. All because certain people don't like us ordinary humans being happy, smiling, laughing, enjoying...

Someone said, soon it will be party time for the evil ones, once more. Mr. Shoolee might say, Peepoh Pawah! Peepoh Pawah! Peepoh Pawah! Alwes Peepoh Pawah! What can the Pleepeeno do but Peepoh Pawah! Emen!!! Emen!!!

There will be the left, the New Civil Society of Lesbians NCSL (with a superfashionistavacla now, Tita Fing), the political opposers, FPJ peeps, ERAP peeps, all strong and hale to create a full pack Peepo Pawah! Emen!!! Emen!!! Emen!!!

This time, the senator whose name sounds like pepper, or pimientos in Spanish, is saying that mommy Glo will want to stay in cozy Malacañang beyond the end of her term. Agree? In the meantime, there is haste in receiving and giving instructions to those who will partake of the Peepo Pawah! Emen!!! Emen!!! Emen!!!

Rounds and rounds of meetings will be held. Then the initial small, going to big mobilizations for the Peepo Pawah! Emen!!! Emen!!! Emen!!!

The rebel military might even join! What? The Peepo Pawah! Emen!!! Emen!!! Emen!!!

North Cotabato Vice Gov. Emmanuel Piñol is coming to town with his coterie of hangers: Ms. Isabel Climaco, M. Celso Lobregat, M. Eric Fabian, Gov. Jesus, Ama! Sta. Maria! Ina ng Diyos! Sacdalan, and will be heard at SC on their petition to stop the GRP-MILF peace pact. Isn't abortion a crime? Then Piñol of course is going to talk with the group that wants to hold, softly, now: Peepo Pawah! Emen!!! Emen!!! Emen!!!

Our good vice governor or governor of vice, will go back to Mindanao. But hey, Eid Kabalu is also a target as a true-blue loyal man of the movie King. He will also be talked by those that want, softer still, now: Peepo Pawah! Emen!!! Emen!!! Emen!!!

But forgive me really for saying, but nothing will come out of these idiocy. More will succumb in Mindanao to their deaths. But unless a miracle takes place in Manila all the Peepo Pawah in the world cannot make the opposition sit in Malacañang alongside their friends in the CPP and the Right but not Righteous, New Civil Society of Lesbos, rebellious Horus-inspired Church leaders, along with their immoral drug dealers, money launderers, kidnappers, bank robber friends.

In the end, Mr. Shoolee is right. Let us stop this maniacal Peepo Pawah! and War in Mindanao! Let us give our tired country and people some respite from the soaring high prices of oil, food and all other commodities! If you the lot can't be patriotic, at least be decent enough to commit hara kiri. Shit! Emen!!! Emen!!! Emen!!!

intimacy with God, devotion to man

for a long time, i was a catholic. now i know not what my religion is, but as far back as i can tell, i enjoyed calling myself Christian. it made me proud. perchance, it must have been my formation. i was brought up a roman catholic and knew no other faith besides.

still and all, one remains God fearing and at the same time, adoring, loving, constantly inspired by a Supreme Being who is the Maker of all things, God.

long ago, i wanted to write a monograph entitled: intimacy with God.

i know that i have had severely serious battles with unpleasant and undesirable, short of alien, people in this world. these are the people who take drugs and do not wish to better their life. the merchants of drugs, weapons of destruction, and those that enjoy the life of other sorts of crime instead of that of gainful employment. these people are excluded from the subject of the missives i wrote below and they shall be the subject of another blog. in the same league as these people -- if it is right to call them that, are the high hats and hyfalutins of society that condescend upon all of us day in and day out.

what i wanted to write about, is our image of Christ, Jesus, God, etc. vis-a-vis the very person seated next to us in the bus, FX, train or standing beside us on the street, walking past us in the mall, along sidewalks, or wherever at whatever time.

it was about, short of being an obssession, one's desire to portray Jesus as someone different from those that paint him, sculpt him, editorialize him, etcetera, etcetera in a manner that is not truly what he is.

we all know that picasso had sought out an italian model for his Jesus. and since catholicism sprouted out of rome's belly, the image we have of Jesus is italian. roman.

far from the truth therefore are the real features of Jesus. so are the real features of the God who is his father. even the anti-thesis of God, is still inspired by the same images romans have taught us all.

Jesus is jewish, his features that of an israelite. surely, he cannot look like a roman as his images show, paintings of him depict him to be and all that. Jesus, as far as we all know, was the son of a carpenter. therefore he was poor. and since as a poor man, he travelled a lot, mud caked upon his feet. sandals, in those days, were poor cousins of the italian closed shoes of today. and even then, if he wore the italian closed shoe pairs in his sojourns, they would not last him that long because he never stopped walking, or so i am made to understand by the bible.

Jesus would be closer to woody allen who looks like the stereotypical jew. or his arab cousins. sunog ang balat, matigas ang balat, buhok, ilalim ng mga kuko, kagitna ng mga daliri, sa nagputik nang buhangin, and his appearance would be closer to our hobos, or taong grasa.

what will it take then, for us to have intimacy with God?

when we are beside our less fortunate brothers who look like shit, we squirm everytime? when someone stinks and smells real foul, we make hideous faces? when we are beside someone with ketong, all the hairs on our body go berserk?

that kind of instant reaction shows our real level of intimacy with God.

it is not the mere tolerance of our less fortunate brethren that we are able to literally hold them in our hands, brush our bodies against theirs, inhale their stink.

imagine, when we say, we love Jesus. what have we been loving him for, all those years? or in which and in whose image did we love him for, anyway? in that italian, fair skinned, handsome, very gentle-looking face, etcetera, etcetera?

let me call that mestiso intimacy. it's half and half. a portion of this and a portion of that. but never whole, never pure, never ever reliable, credible.

at the end of it, it will never be intimacy. mas mabuti pa ang hindi nakakita, o ang nananampalataya nang walang nakikita (tulad ng bulag sa pagkabata) at mas payak at dalisay ang kanyang pag ibig sa Diyos.

perhaps, if i were born blind, and that up to now i cannot see, i wouldn't care if i sit beside a thousand people all looking like hobos. or if i were swept into the middle of the land of the most wretched looking people in the universe. there is where i will find Jesus.

that, is true intimacy.

with Jesus Christ, with God.

(To be continued)

In memoriam, Adrian

months ago, i wrote a tribute to a great man, adrian cristobal a contemporary of my elders. something about adrian that my elders -- most of them gone now --- used to say became firmly imprinted on my brain, he was a damn good writer. like the late blas ople, jolly benitez and their ilk, even to an extent kit tatad, adrian's writing surprised you. they used to say.

it made you think about how someone could write that good. a fellow writer of mine, belen, wherever she may be now did not have good words for adrian the way my elders do. she reads adrian cristobal, she reads about him, she probably hears of him alright but there's a mountain of difference if you saw the man and knew him and then you get to read what he has written.

that is the case with my elders. they rode with adrian in the lowly jeepneys, they ate lugaw, goto, arroz caldo, mami and other cheap dishes to stave off hunder with him in the poor man's carinderia / turo-turo, in small restaurants in quiapo, drank liquor with him, walked for tens of kilometers when they had no fare money. still that did not stop the man from rising above his stations.

that, most of all is what i admire deeply about the man. i knew adrian only from my elders, my father and his associates; saw him only from very far and wrote silly letters to him and his daugther who i got to meet once and only once. i got to meet jolly benitez more often, even chat with him in small talk on one or two occasions. not more than that.

but adrian, jolly and their ilk, to me will never die. like ninoy aquino, whose death to my mind is still in a suspended state, they will live forever.

surely i care that many will remember and honor their memory when all of them are gone. but as for me, it is enough and just fitting that knowing them, however superficially in person, albeit deeply from their fine repute and larger than life contributions, as well as their positive and benign effect upon other humans, gives me the chance to nurture the living imprint of their persona, their intellect and works.

in that sense, adrian, blas ople, ninoy and hopefully alive for a much longer while jolly benitez, in both the innermost recesses and conscious parts of my brain will always be animated imprints. always alive. always vibrant, oozing with life and their ideas, challenging the world and rocking the wretched, lazy dogs in their sloth and sleep. like me, and a few others besides...

so to you, an icon that i look up to, adrian cristobal, i shall not mourn. i shall not weep. i shall not feel the loss. for there shall always be in my mind, in my heart perchance too, in my soul, that ever stirring icon and a living and breathing script that is the quintessential epitome of the gift that you bequeathed on me though not on purpose but happily received after all.

pouvez vous long de phase mon cher idole!

begone apostles of the order of thule!

----- that next year, the year of the [ 鼠 ] rat, will be a peaceful year for the philippines.
----- that any ill wind that the jinn and the bearers of the jinn or their multitude, by ones, tens, hundreds and by the thousands, will be repelled by good karma of the peace loving and deeply spiritual filipinos.
----- the twin siblings of hitler of recent times that worship horus and his ilk under the order of thule or the dark kingdom of satan be struck by the fearsome lightning of god's fury.

How many souls more?

Mayor Benito Astorga. Another soul they taketh...

The first soul they taketh

Congressman Bersamin, Dec 16, 2006. Today.

Cry for help

someone said, a lot of souls will be sacrificed. i ponder what it will eventually mean, since i don't know what that friend of mine was talking about.

can anybody help me please?!?

Ewwww! Someone dipped into my brain

what is your brain pattern?

Your Brain's Pattern

Your brain is always looking for the connections in life. You always amaze your friends by figuring out things first. You're also good at connecting people - and often play match maker. You see the world in fluid, flexible terms. Nothing is black or white.

What Pattern Is Your Brain?