I'm the most dangerous kind of evil.

You Are 24% Evil

A bit of evil lurks in your heart, but you hide it well. In some ways, you are the most dangerous kind of evil.

How Evil Are You?

Snippets from Around the World

California, USA:
I can just imagine mommy leaning over her book and studying for the NCLEX. Her reading glasses are perched on her nose, and it's still and silent. She likes studying during the wee hours of the morning.

Dubai, UAE:
Clarisse and I are chatting as she uploads her photos from her recent vacation in Seychelles. She's sitting in front of her desk, her big bed behind her. Outside the big, tinted sliding doors that open to a narrow balcony, the construction of the building next door is in progress (or is it already finished?). She gets up from her computer and gets ready to go to mass.

Boracay, Philippines:
I forgot Mart went to Boracay, so when I gave him a ring to ask him if he wanted to watch X-Men 3, I realized my attempt at sibling-quality-time was futile (yes, its the big kuya who introduced the wide-eyed little sister to X-Men and comic books). He sounded reaaaally groggy. Too much fun in the sun? Gosh, I do hope it's sunny there. The rainy season's already started.

Tsukuba, Japan:
Herb-san and I chat and discuss the prospects of me visiting her there via winning an essay writing contest (hahaha, we dream, don't we?). I have to learn to ride the bike daw. Better for sightseeing.

I can imagine the cold cobblestones on the streets of Paris; the crisp morning air of Ilmenau as we walk to and from the Ilmenau Technical Institute in Thuringen, Germany; the narrow alleyways of Rome; the cold floor of the Venice train station; the inclined streets of San Francisco; the urban night life of Kuala Lumpur; the reverie of the Buddhist temples in Colombo; lying in the powdery sand and gazing at the stars over El Nido, Palawan; walking down Session Road in Baguio; stuffing myself with grilled food in Cebu; staring at the sea in Dumaguete; watching the waves in Mindoro; wandering about the marketplace in Cagayan de Oro; trekking in Banaue; marching down the street with torches in Davao; eating sushi in Cotabato (ahehehe); hunting for DVDs in Quiapo; commuting to Tagaytay in the dead of the night from CCP...it goes on and on.

Ergh. Bitten by intense wanderlust. Someone stop me before I re-pack my bag and head out. Er, on second thought, don't.

*****

Thoughts and prayers for the people in Indonesia.

"Nid som1, alon in life"

A word to the wise: be careful when reading bus seat scrawls out loud. The person in the seat before you might just think you're doing a bit of aggressive self-promotion.

Colombo

Contrary to popular misgivings about Colombo, the situation didn't seem so bad (of course, I write this from the safety of my home back in Alabang, I highly doubt Dev would appreciate this statement being stuck in Colombo 'til the 15th). Yes, there were soldiers most everywhere, liberally bearing their big-ass rifles, randomly stopping tuktuks (a form of transportation similar to our tricycles) and doing passport checks on foreigners. I was also told that security checkpoints when traveling at night were one too many. Nevertheless, the GKP International Forum went on, and quite literally the world gathered to share knowledge, debate and asses action plans on ICT4D.


Events like this allow you to see the great stuff others have been doing, learn and see how things can be done better, meet people, form partnerships and gain a renewed sense of urgency for the huge amount of work that challenges each of us. Oooh, if only I was built for schmoozing (haha, my new word). I feel better hiding behind production work. Hanging with the rest of the YSEI gang was fun though.


I got to explore a bit of Colombo too.


The travel to and from Colombo was quite an adventure in itself too. Maybe more of that sometime. Check out my Fotopage for more photos.

Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep

I pray the Lord my soul to keep.

I'm camping out at KLIA. Ah, Apryll, this is reminiscent of the time we just parked ourselves on a the seats of the Venice train station. Except that here, the seats are more comfortable. Harhar. And with all the people with Malay features walking around, it seems rather comforting, parang nasa Pilipinas ka pa rin. I have strategically positioned myself near the toilet for emergency purposes (no train-hopping at 4 AM just to use the bathroom, haha!). They have a nice airport. For tonight, I shall call it home sweet home.

"If I were to become a priest, I would be a Jesuit."

The above text was uttered by a good female friend. Just goes to show what the priesthood is missing out on.

*****

There's The Rub : Silent Rage

First posted 00:43am (Mla time) May 01, 2006
By Conrado de Quiros
Inquirer

Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the May 1, 2006 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer

TODAY DOESN'T JUST MARK THE umpteenth anniversary of Labor Day, it marks the fifth anniversary of something of special significance in these harried times. That is the so-called "Edsa III," the mammoth gathering of the-by all means figurative-Great Unshod at the Edsa Shrine that culminated in the riots in Mendiola.

What is the significance of that event today? Doubtless, Erap's (former President Joseph Estrada’s) supporters will recall it as the real Edsa, the one that manifested true People Power, which is the power of the masa, the poor and thereto powerless, who are the majority of the population of this country. Doubtless, too, they will interpret it as the refutation of the idea that Edsa II represented real "People Power," and a confirmation of their argument that Edsa II was simply an elite coup, wrought with the help of the middle class, against a perfectly legitimate and pro-poor president.

The truth is a little more complicated than that. There is no doubt, with his landslide victory, that Erap was a perfectly legitimate president, just as there is no doubt, with the "Hello Garci" tape, that GMA (Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo) is not. None of that means that the effort to impeach Erap, on the ground of having betrayed the public trust, had no popular support. That overlooks, as I've repeatedly pointed out, the impact of the impeachment trial, or more to the point, the airing of the impeachment trial on TV, which had the most popular telenovelas of the time biting its dust. That wasn't just watched by the middle class, it was watched by the masa, who debated it at length, often violently, in drinking sprees in narrow alleys in crowded slums. That was what turned Erap from hero to heel, not unlike the storyline of his own action movies.

"Edsa III" was about Erap, but it also went past Erap. The Edsa II forces, many of whom ended up in GMA's government, heaped scorn on "Edsa III" for variously being an anachronism, an atavism, a throwback to the past, or as Bishop Socrates Villegas (who violently protested its being held at the Edsa Shrine), said, a desecration of hallowed ground. But that was because they reduced it to a simple and irrational support for a fallen idol. There was, of course, that element, too. It was a spontaneous support for a fallen idol, one who, after having been downed, was being kicked on the ground. The image of Erap being fingerprinted in a local precinct proved a most explosive one. And Erap's lieutenants, of course, were prominently in display at the Edsa Shrine goading the throng-which was easily bigger than the one that flocked at Edsas I and II-to "Sugod! Sugod!" Malacañang and throw Gloria out. Not the least of those lieutenants were Miriam Santiago and Juan Ponce Enrile, who after "Edsa III" failed flew to GMA's side and metamorphosed into her undying faithful.

But "Edsa III" was far more than that, which is why I've always put the term in quotation marks, because of its mestizo quality. Beneath its seeming irrationality was something perfectly understandable, beneath its seeming bizarreness was something completely sane. Which is why it has something to say to us, especially today. Beneath "Edsa III's" surface support for Erap was a deep-seated explosion of the wrath of the poor over their lot. It was, as I said then, the "social volcano" exploding. Everyone had warned of it before martial law: The social volcano-created by the divide between the "spectacularly rich and the spectacularly poor," as Ninoy Aquino put it, was near to exploding. It happened much much later, in "Edsa III."

To put it another way, beneath the farce of support for Erap in "Edsa III" lay the force of the revolt of the masses in "Edsa III." Beneath the Eraption was the Eruption.

That anger hasn't gone, notwithstanding that the riots at Mendiola were quelled, and the possibility that the revolt of the masses would be repeated remains. It can be stoked easily, which is also its danger. It can be set aflame just as easily by false prophets as real ones. The lot of the poor hasn't improved, it has worsened, especially under GMA where the scale of pillage has reached staggering proportions (given an image by the face and body of Pidal), restrained only by the finitude of things left to steal.

Traditionally, several things have served as safety valves allowing the magma in the social volcano to seethe without spitting its fiery venom out. Work abroad, faith in Providence and gambling are three of them. But there are limits to the restraining power of all three. There are limits to how many jobs we can get abroad, and as the Asian Development Bank has warned, the export of skilled labor has vicious consequences in the immediate future. Faith in Providence has not exactly deterred the poor from taking to crime, faith in this country having bizarre, cultist interpretations and expressions to begin with. And as to gambling, well, the stampede at the PhilSports Arena shows what happens when people's hopes are dashed while they are desperately trying to get a crack at salvation.

Rep. Joey Salceda, a government economic adviser, has already warned of a "silent rage" over oil as a result of spiraling oil prices. The "silent rage" goes much deeper and farther than over oil. It has been seething over the years, now being stoked to near-eruption by a hugely unpopular usurper whose appetite for wealth and power has had no peer since Marcos.

We keep talking about the promise of another Edsa, it's time we talked about the threat of another "Edsa." May 1 is a particularly good time to do that, being both Labor Day and the day of the Mendiola riots, a day for thinking about workers and a day for thinking about the poor, who are often one and the same.

Hell hath no fury than the desperate scorned.