EXISTENTIAL CRAP

I love my new dog. I can’t believe it was only less than a year when Arthur, a brother in the faith and a dog breeder and trader, was trying to convince me to buy one of his puppies to which my reply was a sarcastic question "anong gagawin ko dun’?" and we both laughed.

Considering that I’m into snakes, my answer came out sounding absurdly funny. I mean, it should have been the other way around: me, asking Arthur "kuha ng ahas ko, sige na?", then his response "anong gagawin ko du’n?" would have been naturally appropriate.

Asking for a reason why one should get a dog reminds me of a scene in the movie "Other People’s Money" when Danny de Vito offered an office guest a donut who declined saying "No thanks, I’m not hungry", de Vito replied " Since when you have to be hungry to eat donuts?".

My point is that dogs are indispensable, this is why they’re ubiquitous, their poop are even more, but you don’t often step-on python droppings on the street in the morning.

Yesterday, while waiting for my mother outside a massage clinic I noticed three blind masseurs: two were seated but one of them, whose head was tilted up and mouth wide-open, was obviously fast asleep. The third guy was also sleeping, but in a more comfortable and conventional position: atop an unused massage table and a folded bedsheet served as his pillow.

The quiteness of the place, broken only by the sound of the radio tuned-in to an afternoon drama series, made me feel like we were in a rural setting.

When the ‘third guy’ awoke I was curious to watch him move about in a familiar territory: When he arose his feet precisely touched the strap of his slippers on the side of the converted bed, then he put it on and stood up. I was impressed.

Before he proceeded he fixed his shirt and I noticed and thought to myself that he wore his clothes better than some of the guys I know with 20-20 vision.

Then he let me down by bumping into a narra sofa, but he quickly regained his composure and confidently walked the long hallway leading to a makeshift kitchen.

All those time a thought was lingering in my mind about asking them to describe for me how they imagine their surroundings, or me - talking to them, ‘look’ like. But if they were born blind then it would be a stupid query since these things I am asking requires visualization, which they have no idea. If they were not born blind,- like lost their eyesight recently - then obviously, it is still a dumb question.

When I imagine, it is always in ‘full color’. I’m sure they imagine too, so my question anew is: how?

Anyway, A woman arrived who, I presumed, worked there, am certain has something wrong with her vision otherwise she wouldn’t have looked at me -as she was approaching- like a bull whose about to charge.

After reporting to the receptionist she brought out her ‘ulam’ and went to the kitchen. When she came back after meal she picked up a cracker sandwich wrapper and a pair of scissors on the receptionist’s table. I’m not debasing her or being prejudicial or anyhing, I meant it in a good way when I thought that she’s the kind of pragmatic ‘manang’ who makes toothpicks out of discarded cracker wrappers…which she did.

I find time and age as both reflective and entertaining.

Like when I see high school students and realize they were born when I was already in college. If fatherhood was my high school graduation gift , like some of my batchmates, then these high school kids today could have been my children’s classmates.

Or when I think of when my mother was my age now. I was in grade 1 then and I could easily recall the important events (the odd part of it is that some of the trivial things I could recall vividly) between that time and now, and I must say, that was quick. So the age of 56 (my mother’s age now) is just around the corner.

Or when I realize that it didn’t really take a long time to get to this age. If I’d imagine doubling that short a time, I’d be 64 already.

That, for me, is how life will go by - fast. 

If there was a time that I thought time was going by slowly, it was when I lived with my grandparents. For one thing, it seemed they were growing old slowly. Until recently, I believed that what my 6-year old daughter see in her great-grandparents was the same image I saw when I was my daughter’s age. But now, sadly, time is catching-up on Lolo, because, his health is quickly deteriorating.

All these, plus the fact that my father died young, at about my age, and add to that the lack of big challenges in life that would have made me swear "I won’t let my children experience what I went through" does affect my (lack of) motivation. The phrase "Long-term goals" would draw a carefree snort rather than an anxious contemplation.

Wifey will kill me if she read that last part (which she will…read this, that is)and I can already hear her saying "make plans for the sake of our children!". Well, I did, in fact I already asked God to take care of my children, even now, just as He did with me. I highly recommend Him, talking from experience, He’s more reliable than any of the best insurance companies and education plans out there. But in anybody’s pragmatic point of view, I have not, really, directly responded to my better-half’s calling for a "plan of attack" on the dreaded ‘inevitable future’.

Of course I have plans. I also have dreams -and they’re ambitious. But for me, dreams will remain as dreams and what I get I accept with much gratitude. And what I get is more than I deserve, so the more I am motivated…to be more thankful. If there is a downside to this divine providence it is that through this blessings I also realize that it is not the result of the toils of my own hands that I enjoy a secure life…temporarily, so diminishes the virtue of self-reliance and with it the motivation to strive harder.

One of the things that christianity advocates is contentment. Husbands love to preach this to his family, especially if financial crisis is imminent. But wives -as they are- will prove to be the most difficult to indoctrinate, since their minds are clouded by their hard-line adherence to practicality and their inherent doubts-about-everything-her-man-is-telling, dismissing it as just another excuse for laziness.

Like I said above, life’s short, why spend it all working for a future your not even certain if there is one at all?  Are we really creatures built to toil for long hours in an artificially lighted and ventilated enclosures? Then why do we, unexplainably, long for and if given a chance, enjoy the outdoors and the cool winds and everything nature has to offer and even dream that some day, when your done working, you’ll live in a place exactly the opposite of where you live and work right now. Are we really built to work in a foreign land, away from loved ones, which will eventually do more harm than good to one’s family?

I think it is least encouraging and more of a sad reflection whenever we read a citation for a retired employee wherin a part of it states "He gave the best years of his life"-or something to that effect- working for the government or for a certain company. By acknowledging what he had given up only means that the employer is aware that he had, all along, deserved better. The citation is only telling him "hey, you could have been somewhere else, doing something worth living for, enjoying the best life has to offer for a man in the best years of his life. But you stuck it out here, until the end, so this is what you get…a plaque of appreciation. Good luck and enjoy whatever you can squeeze out of your dried-up life."

"Enjoy your retirement" - That’s like a contradiction of terms. I mean, what’s an old fart to enjoy?

Bottomline is: Wifey won’t buy any of these. My lame excuses disguised as a well-intentioned lesson on contentment won’t do it.

Now, if you will excuse me, I will sign-out and go to the Canadian Embassy website and checkout their latest immigration requirements.

Today I’ved been reminded of my age.

When Yahoo! Games’ Text Twist bogged-down I jokingly offered a ‘Game & Watch’ to the dissapointed college student. I repeat, a college student.

Her reply was "huh?". Thinking she didn’t hear me clearly, "Game & Watch!" I told her again, and the same "huh?" reaction.

That’s when the words ‘generation gap’ hit me, she didn’t have any idea what I was saying.

But it was like only yesterday that I was addicted to those tiny gadgets!

What is talent? It is simply the ability to overcome stage fright. Conquering topophobia is a talent in itself. This is my conclusion from watching tv lately. An example (this I see alot): There was a candidate in a beauty contest who performed a dance number. From what I had seen, it, obviously, wasn’t about the quality of the performance that should be noted but her guts - pulling off a lousy, for-compliance-sake performance, with confidence.

A talent is what you can do in front of other people. You don’t have yet the talent even if you are endowed with an exceptional singing voice if your ‘exposure’ is limited only within the confines of your bathroom or in front of the clothesline while hanging freshly-washed clothes. What you have is only a gift.

A kid who can make his underarm fart in ‘Nickelodeon’ is showcasing his talent while a person who can identify all the genes in human DNA is, more likely, gifted.

I was tempted to cite Einstein, but he was not gifted. He was a genius. Like Mozart was to music. I am not much into classical music, so I cannot tell a work of a genius from, say, a Levy Celerio -I’m not saying that he was not a genius in his own right. He wasn’t a national artist for nothing.

If those people who call the shots in the art world say that a Picasso’s painting of a disfigured woman with a volleyball by the beach is a masterpiece, then for me it is. Who am I to contradict what erudites proclaim? If I cannot appreciate it now, what I usually do is to just force it down my throat and chalk it up in my head under the category: The-Elite-Says-So.

But with movies I let no one tell me what to watch. Like in the case of two Eastwood films: I don’t think "Mystic River" deserved the criticisms it received. Contrary to what critics say, I find it a better movie than "Unforgiven".

Other things takes some getting-used-to to appreciate, like music. New genres - usually a mutation of the established genres - pop-up once in a while. Now it’ll take more than regular air-time on the FM radio or gimmicks to sell it to the people. When I first heard the album "Nevermind" I thought it was the musical form of an excruciating headache. But it didn’t take long before I fell in love with it. Now I believe that Kurt Cobain was a genius.

It would be naive or downright stupid of me not to realize by now that there are in the music and fashion industry who are calling the shots. They practically tell everyone what to wear and what to listen to. How else can anyone explain how fashion gurus get to predict what’ll be in and what’ll be out next year? Does anyone really think that fashion evolve naturally? Some people simply won’t allow it.

This is how I think it works: Once a year famous names in the fashion world come together to submit their own idea of the next big trend. Everyone’s sketches will be flashed on the overhead projector and the design that will register the biggest laugh from the audience will be adopted.

How can I prove this? Well, ever wonder why trendy clothes look funny at first? Well, because they are. Initial reactions are almost always correct. How come it still proliferates? Because nobody dares to laugh at ‘what’s in’. We have to keep that opinion to ourselves or suffer ridicule from peers for not being up-to-date or being ‘baduy’.  Now, imagine everybody thinks like this, so that there is now a false sense of approval or support from everybody by just being quiet about it. Don’t be surprised if there will be more and more youngsters who walk around looking like clowns.

Now if the above isn’t convincing enough, here is a truly ‘give-away’ in proving the veracity of my conspiracy theory: Why are your photos of the last decade so hilarious and embarrasing to watch? Because by now your already sober and in a better position to render an honest judgment. As if looking from a distance, you now see the real big picture: That they were really meant to be funny in the first place. Notice also that only after the trend has become something of the past or ‘Hindi na uso’ we are now allowed to laugh our heart’s out at those silly wadrobes and hairtyles we once proudly display and used to impress the opposite sex.

So fashion-wise, one is actually more of a Tommy Hilfiger than a Dennis Rodman if he snorts rather than applaud at what he sees in fashion shows. Ever notice how simple fashion designers dress-up? When they are dragged on the stage by the models after the show, they’re the only ones who look… normal. Take your fashion tips from them…literally.

Not much of a different setup in the music industry. I remember the tv show "How Did They Do That" featured how they made Billy Ray Cyrus an instant household name and his one-hit-wonder "Achy Breaky Heart" an ‘overnight’ hit. Look!, they even made money out of revealing to the people they screwed-up how they were screwed-up good…in record time!

All these only make me realize that I do not know what I want until it is rammed down my throat or shoved up my a_ _, whichever is more convenient to them.

You can’t beat the system.

Sex in public?! in skoopy.com yet again there is a new post of a couple having sex on the beach in plain view of other people. Initially what I think of those photos is that either it was ‘photoshoped’ or It was real but the couple just forgot to take their ‘Bonobo-suppressant’ pills. It would have been understandable if they were in a nude beach.

Were they dared to do it in public for an irrisistable bet offer? or was it that the dominant ‘Bonobo’ part of their genes just took over - and like their first cousins in the jungle which are known to even offer sex for a bite of what the opposite sex is eating - that a simple proposal from the woman: a stick of cigarrete afterward and she can let him "have it" now, may have motivated the perverse act?

But I am more inclined to believe the pics are not hoax…there are even websites for those things!

Think of this: there are 6 billion plus people right now… How many have still cameras or video cams? and how many have access to the internet?  a tiny fraction?.. and how many of that fraction have the opportunity (read perfect timing) to record the weird stuff?… I won’t be suprised anymore to know that there are alot of things going around that I have yet to find out.

Some people see caucasians as pervs. Why? because they’re the only ones seen in perv stuffs. Why? because they’re the only ones with the resources. But sometimes we see a brown woman in the picture? it is only made possible by a white man either behind the camera or on top of her…Of course I’m being racially bias. Whatever color or economic status, we’re all intertwined. It’s like "Eyes Wide Shut" meets "8mm."…

Sometimes we see the rich few as pervs. Does it mean that the poor majority of the world (at least in this part of the world) are upright?… Give the ‘have-nots’ half the equipments of the ‘haves’ and brace thyself of what you are about to witness.

Within my social, cultural and religious circle everybody seems ‘mainstream’…In my neighborhood alone, they think I’m a little weird because I keep a pet snake.

Speaking of sex…and now pets, for us humans, and maybe in all of the animal kingdom, sex is pleasurable (thus the tendency to much abuse). In dog training what is referred to as positive reinforcement is when a trainee is rewarded for correctly executing a certain command. Likewise orgasms serve as incentives for couples who correctly execute the procreation activity and guaranteeing a regular repetition of the said activity… hopefully with the same partner. Thus the cycle of motivation is also guaranteed to keep on rolling.

Now, I have a dog and training her the basic commands. What if I’d just wait until she is sexually mature. By then she’d be most receptive if I reward her with the ultimate positive reinforcement. Of course it can be achieved…but not without cost. It means acquiring a partner for her…financially, it’s out of the question. For now I’d settle for the tried and tested mix of reward and punishment, besides I think the former method only works for humans, males specifically.

In some of the provincial buses I often see warnings written in bold letters behind the driver’s seat that reads: "Do not talk to the driver while the bus is in motion". But in Thailand some buses’ sign read: "Please refrain from having sex inside the bus". In both cases the safety of all passengers is the prime consideration that these signs were put up. Driving requires concentration, the driver should be free from any form of distraction. In like manner, a good-intentioned internet surfer should be protected from any perverse site. Sure, but these sites are benign unless I purposely visit one. It’s like knives: no less dangerous than guns and they’re just in the kitchen.

I badly want to blog now. I feel I’m in the mood to write something but I cannot think of anything to write about.

But there are times also when I have things in my mind that are worth blogging but my chronic laziness prevents me from writing it down.

What’s good about blogging is that - at least for me - I am so concious and careful about what to write bout and how it is written. Thinking I have so many readership who are eagerly awaiting my new blog when in fact there are none. But knowing this almost contemptible situation means that I have only myself to please from the very start. Everything that I blog here is for my own consumption.

The best part of this whole thing and also my wish is that in the future I will still have access to my blog. It will be like looking at old photos. I was tempted to say ‘old diary’ but I never experienced reading my own or someone else’s old diary, so… like I said I’m only writing for myself here so why should I write something I couldn’t relate to.

Though I created this blog so I could express myself freely, which under normal circumstances I couldn’t do, I still end up shy of going all out which leads me back to the question: why blog then? because in the back of my mind I still insist my blog is widely read.