Proficiency

I recently had a lengthy discussion in Facebook with a cousin based in the US about the medium of instruction to be used on schools in the Philippines. It started with a status message I posted about a local TV program that featured a debate whether to use Filipino or a combination of Filipino-English in selected subjects. It was an interesting topic and allowed me to discuss my stand about most Filipinos's fascination and awe with English-speaking people. Hence the disturbing practice of forcing children to learn a foreign language at an early age where proficiency for their own tongue is still in the developing stage. What you'd eventually end up with is a person who's neither good at both and grasping at straws as far as clearly communicating what he wants to communicate properly. And it doesn't help that the so-called English "teachers" who guide the said children have neither the aptitude nor skill in English to effectively train people in the first place.

The explanation was so long I figure I may as well have blogged it.

The conversation in its entirety:

Roman: Interesting debate on Mel and Joey tonight about whether to just stick to Filipino or Filipino-English combination as the medium of instruction in schools. I think that's a very minor problem considering the guest science teacher they have at the show defined 'photosynthesis' as the green component in plants.

Jing: Roman, what's your take on this? (just curious hehe)

Roman: Personally I'd go for Filipino as the medium of instruction in our schools. And by that I mean teachers can explain their subjects in the language they and their students have no problem relating to or understanding. The debate has sparked an extreme form of mentality that references Gestapo-like directives that seem to constrict the use of language exclusively for only the medium chosen. As if foreign and common terms that do not have Filipino counterparts cannot be uttered in class anymore because, like the naysayers have been saying all along, it is not Filipino. Like mathematical concepts that have no known Filipino counterparts---specially complex subjects like Trigonometry or Calculus. But I came from a science high school and one of the best Trigonometry teachers there was able to explain and make us understand the difficult concepts in the subject because he explained the most difficult points and related it to their practical/realistic applications in our local dialect. 

I am no expert when it comes to Linguistics but the difficulty I see and have observed with imposing an English-only policy in some subjects is that 99% of the time, the teachers themselves have no command or aptitude whatsoever in that language. And 'Filipino' itself does not automatically mean 'Tagalog' either. It is a lot more dynamic than people think. If the boo boo above is any indication, I'm sure the teacher knows what 'photosynthesis' means. But look what happens when she explains it in a language that requires her to exert an additional effort just to get her point across. Now imagine that scenario in a classroom setting filled with bored and uninspired students. English is good, no doubt, but I think it should be a supplementary resource instead of the glorified entity people perceive it to be. And there is the mistaken idea that Filipino is limiting. On the contrary, it allows more freedom for teachers to express themselves better than when they are strictly adhering to an English -only policy during class hours.

Big talk about Filipino and here I am explaining myself in English right? True. But school has very little to do with this than my parents (your uncle specially), comic books, and television. I even sucked at grammar when I was in school. The thing is, before I started with this 'inglisan' crap I devoured hundreds of Pinoy komiks, endless reruns of Dante Varona, Lito Lapid and Chiquito movies on Channel 13 and Eat Bulaga. All before I even started first grade. The only reason I gravitated to English materials is because I wanted to read The Fantastic Four and understand what the hell Darth Vader was saying to Luke Skywalker on Cloud City.

Jing: Very well thought of and perfectly written :) I am glad I asked your take on this subject since I am not fully aware of what the debate is all about. I do not think converting the language of instruction to Filipino is limiting; learning EVERYTHING in English is limiting. As a health care worker here in U.S. it is (almost) embarrassing that I cannot translate medical procedures and anatomy in my own language.It would have been great to learn proper Filipino terminology, that would have saved me from explaining to my co workers my inability to properly and effectively translate..tsk tsk tsk..Thanks Roman.

Roman: Salamat Ate Jing. I don't think its your fault for not literally translating certain medical terminologies and jargons to Filipino. I doubt if there are literal translations of most of those in Filipino, anyway. And secondly, you are geographically located in a place where English is the dominant language. Of course you have to adapt. You see, the point is not the blow by blow literal translation of terms---that seems to be what everybody is so focused on when it comes to this topic---but the CLARITY of the message with which you wish to convey to the person you're talking to. 

It has always been about clarity and ease. If you can teach mathematics and science comfortably without worrying that someone will report you for not "ispokening ingglis" during class hours, then good for you and your students. Just because the textbooks are in English does not mean you can't discuss productively using Tagalog, Bisaya or whatever dialect you happen to find yourself belonging to. Just because you watched a Hollywood movie with friends does not automatically mean you should discuss the merits (or lack of it) of the film in English. You say "Hanep talaga lightsaber duel nina Darth Maul, no?" and not "Ang ganda ng ilaw-na-espadahang eskirmahan nina Darth Maul." Not only is the latter statement annoying and stilted, but that's how the majority of Pinoys view the topic of using Filipino as a medium of teaching. I think you get the drift of what what I'm trying to say.

It's also the reason why you react more strongly to "PUTANGINA MO" than "YOU SONOFABITCH."

There's just something about your own language that sticks and refuses to leave when spoken to you.

Ant-like

I always assumed most atheists are people who simply say they are one just because they don't believe in any otherworldly entities/deities overseeing everything.

You know, the old man sporting a white beard sitting on a throne up in the sky surrounded by cherubim and harp-playing angels with a propensity for singing in high octaves; and a predilection for belting  "Amazing Grace" on cue and in varying harmonics whenever someone who just died walks in through the pearly gates.That is of course the popular Christian cliche that people from this religion form in their heads whenever the subject of religion comes in. As a born Catholic I can say that that is definitely the first collage of images that comes to mind whenever anything remotely connected to my own religion is brought up. Even if I do not subscribe to that kind of perception about the afterlife, anymore. It is corny and overtly simplistic generalizing the concept of GOD like that and ignorant at times, specially when information about theology is readily available to most people these days; you'd assume that people would have a little more sophistication in understanding the dynamics of the human  behavior and historical errors of the faith they chose to follow. But like I always believed, to each his own.

There is no doubt that as far as providing naysayers ammunition to debunk religion, Catholicism is at the forefront. And it is also the most controversial and one of the most obviously flawed among the bunch. From the inquisitions to banning innocuous works of fiction like Dan Brown's books, to opposing the reproductive health bill, the list goes on. I have a lot of complaints about it myself but I won't deviate from it. Because it is the only way I know how to acknowledge whatever it is out there that I still believe to be the prime mover and architect of our very existence. Just because science and reason debunked the existence of anything utilizing human methods does not make it a universal truth. That is one conceit of the human race I truly do not trust. As if humans are the only authority in intellectual prowess in all of creation. As one major alien character from an Arthur C. Clarke novel said, "You'd be like an ant trying to count every single grain of sand in the world." That statement just about sums it up for me. Clarke, ironically, is an atheist. The video below presents controversial feminist/atheist/writer Camille Paglia on a very refreshing and informative discussion about religion, art, and atheistic sentiments.

And this thing about atheists---the garden-variety that is: These people share the same deluded self-importance with amateurs who proudly proclaim themselves 'artists' just because they wrote several lines of crappy poetry (if you can call it that) or doodled images in a canvass that would make every "Last Supper" portrait in every dining hall in the country seem like priceless Vermeers in comparison. I personally have no problem with anyone, whatever school of thought or religion they belong to as long as they keep their unsolicited opinions or beliefs to themselves. But what I have noticed is that people with very limited understanding of what they proudly espouse to others are the least knowledgeable about it---be it the endlessly annoying fundamentalists who think they have a one way ticket to heaven and are God's gift to mankind or the snide, so-called atheists who think they are paragons of common sense and higher thinking.

Everyone wants to sound smart.

I wonder what's for dinner?

Seen and Herd

He's the one

Who likes all our pretty songs

And he likes to sing along

And he likes to shoot his gun

But he knows not what it means.

- Nirvana

I’m not a trendy asshole

I do what I want

I do what I feel like.

- Offspring

Whenever I'm asked why I like what I like, I usually respond with a blank stare, a shrug, or just a dry “what's it to you”. It’s like asking a person why he likes blue over orange when the latter is obviously the best color in the spectrum, and then wondering why the hell the other person picked the other. What kind of answer are you looking for when you ask questions like these, anyway? It’s one thing to be genuinely interested about another person’s preferences, and entirely another to ask questions that are seemingly harmless at first glance but are pointed accusations that always come across as how could you? Or to be blunt: How could you like it when it’s not the popular choice?

Like in music: someone asks me what I enjoy listening to and I mention something even my parents were partial to (by that I mean they liked when they were young) and suddenly the person looks as if he was speaking to a leper or someone with a bizarre sense of humor. Add +100 damage if said person is younger than you. And then comes the all too-familiar “Luma na yan, a.”  ("That's old.") And I’m always tempted to get back with something like coercing the guy to join MENSA for that phenomenal observation. Of course I can always lie and give something very generic like the ones I see every time I tune in to some music video channel to save myself from ridicule but why bother? Oh, I see. It was a tasteless joke about my age. Stupid me. And by the way, pu+@&^@ mo rin. I’d take an idiot’s heckling anytime over being known for liking crap disguised as something else just because it’s “new”.

It is amusing. This general assumption that anything not commonly spotted in the radars of contemporary pop culture are automatically regarded as a waste of time or, at the very least, ugly, boring, or nonexistent. Of course this is true to some degree. Popular is popular no matter how defiant one is regarding that definition. And some---most, actually---of what I like has been popular during their time as well. So who am I to say that today’s collective taste is bad? But then I’ve always held on to the adage that popularity isn’t always in direct proportion to quality. Or perhaps my headstrong revulsion toward latching on to trends because it makes me feel like an idiot---because that’s how I perceive people with no identity of their own to fall back to. It’s a bit tricky, as well. All a person has to say is that the Beatles were the largest pop musicians in the planet; so does that mean I’ll snob them had I been born a little earlier and lived through the height of their popularity just because they wrote corny love songs designed for teenaged girls? Probably.

But then The Beatles innovated—they reinvented their sound, subject matter and even their very image to grow from singing about puppy loves to singing about Eastern philosophies, mind-altering substances and even looking through the eyes of a 64 year-old. And I am more familiar with their later works like Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, The White Album, Revolver, etc. I have been exposed to their music since kindergarten (due to my father’s bootleg cassette copies) but my interest toward the band came when I was in high school. About the same time when puberty demands listening to subversive music by bands with the least surplus of sappy love songs in their catalogues. They went from being top 40 poster boys to serious artists.

Ah yes. Artists and art. As much as it makes me cringe at sounding like a pretentious poseur I'd have to admit that it is the main factor I look for as a spectator. It is very hard to define or peg because most of the time, shock value or nauseating attempts at cuteness are often received with more enthusiasm than the real thing. This is unnerving to put in one's journal. Especially when everyone nowadays seems to have a delusion that automatically gives license to proclaim themselves as artists just because what they do requires a level of creativity even a trained chimpanzee won’t have a problem attending to. But I digress and that’s a separate topic, altogether.

The point is how can it be unfashionable to like something like A Clockwork Orange or Kraftwerk or Led Zeppelin during these times when they have already proven their value to the world? The Police’s Reggatta De Blanc was released in 1979 and I have yet to listen to the entire album. You can argue that it sounds dated, but so what? Truly good songs are timeless. If what’s being played now sounds good because it’s new, then why bother liking it? It would be passe in a year, or maybe within months, anyway. Give it a few more years and someone with an IQ of over 15 would inevitably mumble “Luma na yan, a.” You’d be better off not liking anything, if that’s how your twisted logic operates.

And I am aware this is sounding more and more like the intergenerational grousing that typical old people like grandparents usually do. That people were more sensible in their time than today’s society with corrupted values and reckless youth, and so on until the cows come home about everything that’s right about theirs and everything that’s not in the present. To a person, pretty much everything about his generation is the best compared to the rest. And I am guilty of that to some extent, except that I also appreciate most of what they said that was great about their generation. And my parent’s generation. And mine, of course. I try hard to see any redeeming qualities on today's contemporary landscape and the only thing that struck me as totally original these last few years was William Hung.

Even guitar-based bands not only sound alike, but also talk of the same lovelorn woes or how they’re gonna slit their wrists because, well, they just feel like doing it; because they are overtly emotional. As if Weird Al Yankovic does not have emotions due to his irreverent humor and approach at creating/parodying songs. Or maybe I’m just not looking. Even films that are being peddled nowadays are just bloated, but ultimately hollow versions of their original 80s incarnations: The A-Team, Predator, Aliens, even the upcoming Tron Legacy and The Transformers.

If consumerism was already bad enough in 1979 to warrant a stinging criticism via George
Romero’s Dawn Of The Dead, it sure as hell no different now. If anything, it only got progressively worse. Music, film, literature and other branches of the creative arts are reduced to products with a definite shelf life designed for today’s generation with an attention span relatively comparable to that of a jellyfish.

I guess this is the inverse of a previous topic I posted a few years ago (Indie-Indiehan). In that I touched on one of the most extreme form of snobbishness in the guise of liking something, anything, not popular or known to at least five people because of a weird form intellectual arrogance; and here I’m ranting about an extreme form of intellectual inadequacy that is abysmally annoying because most people seem to be suffering from it. Hard to believe that herd mentality, coupled with the dependence toward Google and Wikipedia to do the thinking reduced most people into mindless cows content on eating what the media shoves down their throats.

FURTHER/RECOMMENDED READING: The Dumbest Generation, Mark Bauerlein

D-7 Siganid St.

Moving day

The House, Summer 1986

It was an awesome sight. After a few years living in a dark (subterranean as my uncle put it) residence in town, this large and bright looking house surrounded by vast rice fields, right next to a a kindergarten school I just graduated from, and vegetation looks just about right for me. I remembered the crates and cartons being unloaded and the smell of the new residence. The white tiles on the floor, faucets in every corner, electric sockets in every corner, and best of all, two bathrooms with a toilet bowl equipped with a flushing mechanism, and a shower. The smell of Albatross long disintegrated still lingering in the dry and empty bathrooms. And a bathroom mirror as well. From where we used to live, igib, tabo't timba was a way of life.

The bedrooms were equally impressive. To a boy used to a single bedroom with walls made out of plywood so thin you can practically use it as a substitute for paper when you ran out of materials to draw with, a real bedroom was overwhelming. Even the maid's quarters look pristine comapred to the one we've had before. There was a Jesus Christ poster left hanging in one of the cabinets. And a faint smell of rugby, and a little dust. And those circular flourescent lights I only get to see at the medical unit---I always associate them with Dr Garay---and all the lights in the house were exactly like those. Fascinating.

I went outside to check out the terrain. Lots of grass and plants. Perfect for my grasshopper catch and torture hobby. Ant-lions under the bedroom windows as well. I went to check the nearby chico tree for the large variety of ants called 'pala' in the local dialect. Check. I caught one and fed an ant lion larva with the biggest crater. Then I noticed the dogs on the other side of the bamboo fence. A lot of them. In varying breeds as well. One mean-looking mongrel with about the same height as I did eyed me the way a lion probably eyes a gazelle. Good thing I hated dogs. I had to stay out of that one's radius if I want to survive the rest of my stay in this new neighborhood.

I went to the street in front of the house. It was not paved like the ones we have passed going here. I didn't care. I went to the direction of the huge water tank in the west, still mindful of the dogs. A small cute looking white-furred member of the pack managed to squeeze through one of the openings and accompanied me in my walk. for some reason I liked this one more than I ever loved dogs and welcomed the company. I passed by a house in my right, just behind the kindergarten building. It was empty, but there was a native monkey tied by its neck above a tamarind tree. It was screeching at me. Probably remembered me when I threw rocks at it with my classmates in Kinder 1&2. Had it been able to speak I'm sure it would make a Marine Master Gunnery Sergeant proud with the kind of pep talk it would probably give me. The house on the left was inhabited. I saw a mocha-colored VW Beetle parked in a more sophisticated looking garage. 

I reached the end of the road and stood there gaping at the wide open space I did not experience when I lived in the center of the small town. Me, Kit and Jute would have a blast with those Ninja and Tarzan moves we discussed before.

The dog wandered somewhere and I realized i still needed to unpack my comic book collection. Going back, I deduced my father had already unpacked some of his own things as well. 

I can already hear Ricky Nelson's "Poor Little Fool" this far from the house.

Palo

I've been browsing through some Eraserheads tracks in Youtube and I just realized something.

"Para Sa Masa" off Sticker Happy (1997) might not be that harmless after all. Not because it has an insidious, subliminal message telling you to recite "Natas" eighteen times or shoot up large quantities of narcotics hidden in the seeming tribute to the masses that paranoid fundamentalists wold have no difficulty in spotting (if some of them can declare Return Of The Jedi as anti-Christian, it would be a breeze doing that to a record with a naked woman in the cover). Nothing as controversial as those.

It is not harmless because in my opinion, that song is a pointed critique to the group of people it appears to glorify. In most parts the song is more hurt than actually reprimanding, as what these lines, as I understand them, say:

"naaalala nyo pa ba/binigyan namin kayo ng ligaya..."

And then veers toward this direction:

"ilang taon na rin ang lumipas/mga kulay ng mundo ay kumupas/marami na rin ang mga pagbabago/di maiiwasan pagkat tayo ay tao lamang..."

And this caps it all:

"mapapatawad mo ba ako/kung hindi ko sinunod ang gusto mo..."

That last line may have been brought on by the lukewarm reception the band got for songs that were way out of their usual fare. In other words, "fans" did not like it when their favorite band went over its head and decide to do experiments with their sound. As I recall the album's predecessor (Fruitcake) sold well, but did not sell great as their previous releases. It was totally different from the rest--all English songs, even had a book with it--and none of the daily college/juvenile shenanigans the band's most popular songs became well known for.

And finally:

"pinilit kong iahon ka/ngunit ayaw mo namang sumama..."

And:

"huwag mo hayaang ganito/bigyan ang sarili ng respeto..."

I am no Lit major but those lines might as well say they'd given up trying to elevate the average person's taste by giving them something different. Of course that smacks of arrogance and downright condescension on the band's part and I may also be mistaken since that's how I interpret it, but even if that was indeed their sentiments, then so be it. As long as that was how they felt during that time, then fine. Phoniness is worse. The band went on to record two more excellent albums (Natin99--is their best in my opinion) that were sadly overlooked by most of their fans until their eventual dissolution in the early part of the century.

But everyone got one hell of a spanking with that song.

Album Art

In a previous entry (Happy Anti-Valentine's Day) I waxed poetic on the pleasures of acquiring and listening to music the old-fashioned way. Of course in today's digital landscape, actually owning a physical piece of musical recording - be it via cds, cassette or vinyl - would warrant a dazed and quizzical look from today's brain-dead generation (and people of my age bracket or older trying hard to be in today's loop). At best you'd get an honest query as to why you'd go through such pains of scouring the metropolis and back while shelving out horrendous amounts of money for something you can get--sorry, download-- for free. You might as well ask collectors why they'd pay astronomical amounts that's enough to alleviate our international debt for a piece of painting when they can just buy a reproduction that costs less than the frame it will be mounted on. And this stance has nothing to do with piracy either. I support piracy. But when it comes to music, I prefer to have the real thing complete with the liner notes and personnel involved in the album's creation. More importantly, because it preserves the artwork that goes with the music: From the way the inlay sleeves were folded, to the entire layout (specially when lyrics are reprinted) as well as the band/musician information. Some torrent downloads come with a jpeg file of the album covers and inlay sleeves but nothing beats the real thing.

And there's just something about buying something and not knowing what to expect out of it, and the anticipation of going home, strapping your headphones and listening to it while marveling at the creativity (or not) of the music, package and the cover. When the music and album artwork jived, I could listen to the entire thing for weeks. Especially if it was a favorite artist who did something totally new, and surprisingly good output.

Rolling Stone magazine published its own list of 100 GREATEST ALBUM COVERS OF ALL TIME a few years ago. I'm going to do a list of my own that is strictly confined to my own collection mostly composed of cassette tapes I started buying when I was in high school and a smattering of cds (that are mostly upgraded versions of my albums on tape that warped).

In no particular order:
ERASERHEADS/CIRCUS - The 'Heads exemplified everything that has to do with living out your college life in perpetual cool. The wit, humor and intelligence of the compositions went well with the grit and simplicity of the cover and layout. Listening to the record and reading the booklet somehow made you feel you were in a dormitory drinking your guts out while singing to a medley done by your guitar-toting buddy.

LIVE/THROWING COPPER - To be honest, my primary reason for buying Live's sophomore hit was because of the cover art. I heard 'Selling the drama' before, and it was a decent tune. But the painting by Peter Howson called 'Sisters Of Mercy' had a mysterious and slightly frightening aura about it that went so well with the spiritualistic leanings of the band's music. I even had the cassette case left around the stereo as it looks ominous and cool along with my father's jazz collection.

MEGADETH/RUST IN PEACE - Ed Repka was a mainstay in the Megadeth fold (even outlasting some band members), doing cover arts for earlier albums but 1990's Rust In Peace was the most arresting. Not only is the album a lean, towering piece of thrash perfection, but the cover art depicting alien conspiracies and people that look suspiciously like Gorbachev and George Bush watching beloved mascot Vic Rattlehead do a demonstration on alien life form deserves a comic book series of its own. Stare at the cover during 'Hangar 18'.

SMASHING PUMPKINS/SIAMESE DREAM - The orange toned photograph of the twin sisters, coupled with Billy Corgan's lyrical images about nostalgia really hits home. This is the reason why I always look back at the 90s as perpetual summers lighted in the late golden afternoon sun.

GUNS N' ROSES/USE YOUR ILLUSION I&II - One of the most ambitious projects in hard rock history. Impeccable layouts and generous inclusion of lyrics and band photos and personnel as well.

NINE INCH NAILS/PRETTY HATE MACHINE - Simple and elegant inlay card. Also features the debut of the NIN symbol designed by Trent Reznor and Gary Talpas. An additional treat would be the inclusion of "ideas and sounds" Reznor utilized while recording his landmark debut.

THE POLICE/GHOST IN THE MACHINE - Up to this album the band mostly utilized their own photos in their album covers alternating who gets to be in the middle (they're a power trio after all) per album. For this release, we get a simple black background and three digital Chinese (or Japanese) characters with the band's faces signifying their approach to their new synth-heavy compositions.

GARBAGE - Not only is the cover striking, but I was actually hellbent on buying the album because I read Butch Vig--who produced Nirvana's Nevermind and Smashing Pumpkins' Siamese Dream--will be drumming for the band. I couldn't care less had the album art were done by people with the aesthetic sensibilities of pirated DVD peddlers here in the Philippines. That the cover was beautiful was a pleasant surprise and only added to my appreciation of the band and its music.

SOUL ASYLUM/GRAVE DANCERS UNION - While Soul Asylum had already been relegated to relative obscurity after their 90s heyday, their 1992 album was by far one of the best albums with an equally memorable cover as well.

BLIND MELON - The Bee Girl does it for me. One of the coolest album covers there is.

Prosti The Snowman

a lot of the presidential campaign materials, specially the ones shown on tv ought to be given a special awards ceremony for the tackiest, most insulting-to-the-intelligence, amoral, and downright ugly pieces of excreta ever to assail a person's senses. this is a new highpoint (or low) in the history of philippine politics. a long time ago you'd get jingles and tv plugs that were reasonably done with a modicum of restraint (and even good taste) and the consideration that maybe people aren't that stupid to buy whatever bullshit they decide to cram over the collective consciousness of the masses.

now you have statesmen (clowns, actually.) doing rap songs more embarrassing than than the public humiliations done to them by their little sisters, filthy rich real estate moguls trying hard to hammer everyone how destitute they are, and senators with their own version of a schoolyard brawl capped with seemingly harmless ‘insertions’. it would have been better had it ended in an actual fistfight but I guess they’d probably say they had “class”. Classy people stooping lower than humanly possible to eke out the last of whatever dignity they have just to get that elusive vote. At least whores have the decency to do what they do in private. You get the usual “iaahon ko kayo sa kahirapan” and “susugpuin ko ang korupsyon”. but then you wonder why the hell nobody asks them HOW. In less than four months non-taxpayers and unemployed members of society will again define how i’m going to be taxed.

At least this proves that advertising really changes things for you. No matter how banal, controversy-ridden, and totally devoid of any platform to run your position is, advertising neutralizes everything and makes you look good in front of most people. Just bombard the net, airwaves and broadsheets with your image and people will succumb to the sick pavlovian conditioning you did from endless exposures to your image. Never mind that you’re the asshole who’s gonna take control of their lives for the next 6 years. Nevermind that you’re definitely going to recoup all those billions spent on endless rotations on that sea of garbage jingle spinning in everyone’s head like an irritating mosquito that keepes buzzing in your ear that you just can’t kill.

this reminds me of jive guys who proudly proclaim pink as their favorite color. not because they're gay, or perhaps they really do like it despite society's nearsighted perception on gender preferences, but because it's one way of telling the world "hey! i'm a macho guy comfortable with my own sexuality. look at me. aren't i cool for liking something normal men hate? by the way check out my abs." so what it all boils down to is your simple garden-variety attempt at cuteness and attention-grabbing ploys designed for people with an iq of a carrot. and believe you me, it really works.

I overheard this from someone a few days ago: “kaya naman pala magtapon ng maraming pera sa campaign, ba't di ginawa nung senador pa lang at gamitin yun pera para tumulong talaga? ikanga e, kung gusto mo talaga tumulong, tutulong ka."

if you want to shoot, shoot. if you want to plunder, make godawful campaign materials.