Toots his horn:

"Sometimes funny, sometimes dreadful, but at least
it's well-written all the time."
--Philippine Web Awards Fortnightly, April 20, 2005.

28.12.04

Tsunami Have Killed Thousands Over Years

(1:49 PM)

This devastating "Asian Quake" brings back memories of our own earthquake back here in the Philippines, last July 16, 1990.

I was just starting out in college, it was an afternoon, and we were finishing some posters in the ground floor foyer of Faura Hall. The table started shaking and people were going down the stairs from the upper floors. In a few seconds, everyone was rushing out of the building.

I was left at the table, holding a bottle of Elmer's Glue and sipping a can of Coke. My groupmates were gone.

But it's not finished yet, I said.

There was a giant trophy cabinet on the far wall and all the trophies started jumping off their shelves. Glass was breaking.

Oh, okay, I said to no one in particular.

I picked up my bag and followed the screaming crowd.

I didn't see my Coke can tumble and fall off the table, creating shockwaves inside, too small to be noticed.

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8.12.04

93% of Caregivers in Canada are Filipinos

(10:51 AM)

Years ago, I've had romantic fantasies about being a live-in caregiver in London. I would suffer, of course, as all artists, especially struggling writers, must suffer.

Wiping the bums of some old farting fogey. Forcing them to take their meds. Pushing them around in their wheelchairs. Then hieing off to museums and art galleries and theaters during weekends and holidays. At night, I would have written what will eventually become my London collection. Maybe essays, perhaps poetry.

An artistic caregiver in London surely has better prospects than a brain-dead middle manager in Makati City. This was the fantastic fantasy that my wife and I entertained.

How about an artistic caregiver in Canada? Duped by a recruiter, sold into virtual slavery, abused physically, (maybe sexually, I wonder) and with little hope of escape. Canada, after all, refuses to reconize the rights of caregivers, least of all artistic caregivers. But, as a writer, struggling of course, that will be all material for a potential Booker Prize runner-up. Canada is part of the Commonwealth.

Despite Atwood and Coupland, Canada seems to be a bleaker place to live in. Despite the wilderness, the otherness to America, the Mounties, the American TV productions, the guns, the free education and dental plan.

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6.12.04

Lionel Ritchie Sings Hello

(3:26 PM)

To the mountains and valleys and treetops. To the temples, to the walls. To the zoos and alleys and bakeshops. This is our rallying cry; this is how we pretend to be literary. You and me and this blog.

Yesterday, I caught a fish. The other day, I killed a cockroach. And somewhere in between, the world opened itself up and revealed itself to me, like a dining table.

And last night, Lionel Ritchie sang "Hello".

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