I recently watched a documentary in my last class. I forgot the title but it talks about the United States of America's unjust wars over other countries (particularly Iraq) for the past years.
The documentary discussed the truth on how the USA played during the Iraq War. But more importantly, it discussed how the "free press" was controlled by the military in these times.
The documentary discussed how a liberal news media like the CNN hid the truth behind the Iraq War. According to intelligences, Iraq had weapons of mass destruction, yet these same intelligences were not entirely sure about whether Iraq really had weapons of mass destructions or not. Therefore, the fact that Iraq have weapons of mass destruction was not valid. President Bush used this as one of his reasons for his campaign 'Liberation of Iraq". Obviously, President Bush ignored the most important fact: the intelligences are not even sure that Iraq supposedly had of mass destruction. Nevertheless, he still continued with his campaign, often the U.S. military faithfully supporting his propaganda named "War on Terror".
The point here is the fact that CNN, as well as the entire U.S. media, failed or never even bothered to investigate the government's real intentions behind the Iraq War. I could assume that President Bush had a hidden reason as to why he discarded the most important fact regarding suspicions about Iraq: the validity of the country having weapons of mass destruction. The U.S. free press never even informed that important fact about the reason why the U.S. declaring war on Iraq. The American people had the right to know the truth behind the government's purposes for the "War on Terror", since the lives of their soldiers and, more importantly, of the innocent Iraqi civilians were at stake.
Why at stake, you ask?
As I watched the documentary, it showed the U.S. military prowess by portraying its latest war machines and the technology in its most innovative and most destructive form. Instead of criticizing the U.S. military's guts of boasting these superior "weapons of mass destruction" (it seems like its the other way around), the U.S. media praised the U.S. military for portraying the U.S. as the most technologically advanced nation at that time in terms of military weapons. The U.S. media failed to realize how many lives these "patriotic weapons" will take once these were dropped on the spot. As journalists (I'm not and I will never be a journalist, but if you are one, you must know what I'm talking about), they must not be afraid to expose the truth behind the "War on Terror" even though the government would accuse them as "unpatriotic". Unpatriotic or not, a journalist's purpose is to expose the truth no matter what. Unpatriotic or not, the media's purpose is to expose the truth no matter what. But in this case, the U.S. media failed to do so. In other words, the U.S. media, or the "free press", had just let itself become an instrument of the U.S. government's self-interests. Whatever happened to the concept of "free press". Because of this, Americans immediately believed President's Bush purported reason that "Iraq has weapons of mass destruction, thus the U.S. must send in troops to stop Iraq from using these weapons of mass destruction, for the world's safety is at stake".
This just shows how powerful the media, or more specifically the "free press", is in terms of delivering current news and events of utter importance and significance. Because of this asset, the media is often targeted by the government to further their plans that may and may not benefit the entire nation.
Recently, in the case of the Philippines, certain sex scandals were used by certain government officials to further increase their "likeableness" not for creating these certain sex scandals but rather condemning the certain person behind these certain sex scandals. One tactic used by this certain government official for showing his "heroic" stance is informing the local media to inform the public about these certain sex scandals and how he used ways to condemn the certain person behind these certain sex scandals. I'm sure you would know what I'm talking about if you have lived in the Philippines for quite sometime around May 2009.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Monday, June 22, 2009
CAT Camping As A Rite of Passage
One of the most significant events in my senior highschool year is our CAT Camping. CAT stands for Citizen Army Training. At first, I’ve always thought why it is necessary for highschool students to learn the “ways of the samurai”. No, it should be “ways of the corrupt military” rather. A lot of parents were complaining why their children had to put up with this bull of crock eventhough no one’s planning to be in the army. We have to study all the terminologies referring to ranks, squad positions and some random military commands. I’ve always thought our CAT subject is useless. I can recall skipping 20 out of 52 meetings of CAT the entire school year. When I don’t feel like it, I would cut class and be marked absent. To summarize it all up, I’ve always hated my CAT class.
Our CAT Camping was even worse. We had our CAT Camping at Blue Rose Farm, Batangas, where we spent 3 days and 2 nights. I don’t know how wide it is but I think it is double the size of the entire Ateneo campus. However, we stayed on one part and we never had the chance to explore the entire place.
We were expected to be fully obedient, independent and resourceful. Everytime the military commanders would shoot their guns in the air, we were expected to duck on the ground despite what were doing at the moment. We are expected to line up when the alarm rang. That’s when I know there are activities to be undertaken. Anyway, I’ll go on with my rants.
Almost all the activities are pointless. There is this one activity wherein we were blindfolded and were expected to hold the belt-holder of the one in front of us. It started at around 9 pm and ended at around 11. I didn’t understand the rules very well. We were led to elsewhere in the camp. Because we were blindfolded, we are expected to follow the one in front of us. The ones in front of the lines were guided by our coy commanders. I was at the back of the line. I consider this advantageous because no one is holding me at the back, until someone tried to pull me off the line. I thought I did some random violation so I just let my hold on the one in front of me. That’s when I realized they are using random measures to test our physical strengths. After that, our coy commander led me back to the line. I felt so stupid and pointless because the activity was absolutely stupid and pointless. The result was even more annoying. The person I was holding unto suddenly got mad at me. I was like “What the hell did I did to you?” I guess he hated me for not holding back when I was pulled off the line. A pretty superficial way to get mad at someone. We ended up not talking to each other the whole night.
There’s another activity I would never forget. Another source of humiliation, at least this time, everybody of us boys was subject to humiliation in my point of view. The camp is divided into three. At the left lies the boys’ camp. The girls’ camp is on the right, right beside a thicket. On the middle is where the officers are stationed. It was already midnight. We were all sleepy and tired but we are in a military camp anyway, so we have to follow the rules no matter what. All boys were lined up. We went to the thicket right beside the girls’ camp using the other way. The military commanders expected us to duck for two hours on the ground. After approximately two hours, we were told to strip off our pants. Then we have to find our way back to our camp passing through the girls’ camp without our pants. Pretty embarrassing. I was prepared for this before the CAT Camping. Boxing shorts were allowed. I took my swimming shorts instead. I was going to convince the people at the guard point that I was wearing a boxing shorts. But I failed. They told me to strip off my swimming shorts. They were not fooled at all. I ended up exposing my underwear. Passing at the girls’ camp, all the girls shouted with joy and happiness. The sight of their guy classmates with their strong legs and underwear must be a titillating experience. That’s when I learned the my girl schoolmates were not virgins anymore. They had been stripped off of their ladylike innocence and modesty. Some of the guys were proud to expose the shape of their manhood concealed in a piece of cotton. I, on the other hand, again felt so stupid. Another worse event followed through: I lost my wallet somewhere.
The last midnight activity was the worst. I didn’t felt stupid this time. I just thought we wasted a lot of effort covering ourselves with mud. The sole purpose of this was to not ourselves be seen by our “enemies”. The game was divided into two opposing camps, boys versus girls. The rules were we have to “kidnap” from the opposing camp. I couldn’t recall the rest because I wasn’t in the least interested. Before the game would proceed, we are expected to cover ourselves with mud. Until they told us the activity was canceled. Later on, I was informed that the mud was mixed with human and animal feces. That’s too much. Bullshit.
Anyway, CAT Camping isn’t all that bad. At least this one helped us to be prepared and vigilant all the one. It also instilled us discipline and endurance, physical, mental or emotional, no matter what. Our coy commanders had told us before that CAT is a rite of passage from highschool to college. I didn’t buy their idea at first. Our CAT Camping convinced me though. But still, it felt stupid and pointless the whole time.
P.S.: This is the updated version of the school paper I submitted last Second Semester School Year 2008-2009.
Our CAT Camping was even worse. We had our CAT Camping at Blue Rose Farm, Batangas, where we spent 3 days and 2 nights. I don’t know how wide it is but I think it is double the size of the entire Ateneo campus. However, we stayed on one part and we never had the chance to explore the entire place.
We were expected to be fully obedient, independent and resourceful. Everytime the military commanders would shoot their guns in the air, we were expected to duck on the ground despite what were doing at the moment. We are expected to line up when the alarm rang. That’s when I know there are activities to be undertaken. Anyway, I’ll go on with my rants.
Almost all the activities are pointless. There is this one activity wherein we were blindfolded and were expected to hold the belt-holder of the one in front of us. It started at around 9 pm and ended at around 11. I didn’t understand the rules very well. We were led to elsewhere in the camp. Because we were blindfolded, we are expected to follow the one in front of us. The ones in front of the lines were guided by our coy commanders. I was at the back of the line. I consider this advantageous because no one is holding me at the back, until someone tried to pull me off the line. I thought I did some random violation so I just let my hold on the one in front of me. That’s when I realized they are using random measures to test our physical strengths. After that, our coy commander led me back to the line. I felt so stupid and pointless because the activity was absolutely stupid and pointless. The result was even more annoying. The person I was holding unto suddenly got mad at me. I was like “What the hell did I did to you?” I guess he hated me for not holding back when I was pulled off the line. A pretty superficial way to get mad at someone. We ended up not talking to each other the whole night.
There’s another activity I would never forget. Another source of humiliation, at least this time, everybody of us boys was subject to humiliation in my point of view. The camp is divided into three. At the left lies the boys’ camp. The girls’ camp is on the right, right beside a thicket. On the middle is where the officers are stationed. It was already midnight. We were all sleepy and tired but we are in a military camp anyway, so we have to follow the rules no matter what. All boys were lined up. We went to the thicket right beside the girls’ camp using the other way. The military commanders expected us to duck for two hours on the ground. After approximately two hours, we were told to strip off our pants. Then we have to find our way back to our camp passing through the girls’ camp without our pants. Pretty embarrassing. I was prepared for this before the CAT Camping. Boxing shorts were allowed. I took my swimming shorts instead. I was going to convince the people at the guard point that I was wearing a boxing shorts. But I failed. They told me to strip off my swimming shorts. They were not fooled at all. I ended up exposing my underwear. Passing at the girls’ camp, all the girls shouted with joy and happiness. The sight of their guy classmates with their strong legs and underwear must be a titillating experience. That’s when I learned the my girl schoolmates were not virgins anymore. They had been stripped off of their ladylike innocence and modesty. Some of the guys were proud to expose the shape of their manhood concealed in a piece of cotton. I, on the other hand, again felt so stupid. Another worse event followed through: I lost my wallet somewhere.
The last midnight activity was the worst. I didn’t felt stupid this time. I just thought we wasted a lot of effort covering ourselves with mud. The sole purpose of this was to not ourselves be seen by our “enemies”. The game was divided into two opposing camps, boys versus girls. The rules were we have to “kidnap” from the opposing camp. I couldn’t recall the rest because I wasn’t in the least interested. Before the game would proceed, we are expected to cover ourselves with mud. Until they told us the activity was canceled. Later on, I was informed that the mud was mixed with human and animal feces. That’s too much. Bullshit.
Anyway, CAT Camping isn’t all that bad. At least this one helped us to be prepared and vigilant all the one. It also instilled us discipline and endurance, physical, mental or emotional, no matter what. Our coy commanders had told us before that CAT is a rite of passage from highschool to college. I didn’t buy their idea at first. Our CAT Camping convinced me though. But still, it felt stupid and pointless the whole time.
P.S.: This is the updated version of the school paper I submitted last Second Semester School Year 2008-2009.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Random Text Messages
I'm making a post out of these ones. I'm talking about these random text messages. No, if you mean unknown, random people asking you to get your prepaid from them, it's not them. They're easy to ignore (at okay lang silang murahin ng todo!) and they're not much of a bother.
I've been beating around the bush lately.
As Globe subscribers (or if you have a cellphone in general), have you ever received messages such as this one?
FREE Globe Info: cool Back-to-School Ringbacks! Its URS FREE for 3 days! TeachersPet/Pupil-Txt SD076 to 2332 FieldTrip/CAmbio-Txt UA818 to 2332 NoInfo? RplySTOP
I have to say this messages piss me off everyday because of these reasons.
I've been beating around the bush lately.
As Globe subscribers (or if you have a cellphone in general), have you ever received messages such as this one?
FREE Globe Info: cool Back-to-School Ringbacks! Its URS FREE for 3 days! TeachersPet/Pupil-Txt SD076 to 2332 FieldTrip/CAmbio-Txt UA818 to 2332 NoInfo? RplySTOP
I have to say this messages piss me off everyday because of these reasons.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Public Transports are Stressful
This is why I think riding public transports, from home to school and vice versa, are stressful. I'll tell you a story recounting my personal experiences.
I usually commute from home to school and vice versa. I never commuted when I was in high school. The “stupidity” of most people I encounter along the way totally irks me. Maybe because public transportations are tiring, especially if you have to take five rides from home to school and vice versa.
I usually call the hotline where some tricycle would pick me up. The tricycle would pick me up from their station to our house. Upon calling, the supervisor of the station would ask the lot number and the street. I just can't seem to pronounce the word “four” clearly from the other end of the line. It's totally annoying when the supervisor would ask me up to five times until I'm almost shouting at the phone. “24 Banahaw po! Twenty FOUR, FOUR po! FOUR!” It's even more annoying when the tricycle driver would miss our house. “HOI, andito bahay po namin oh!” The lot number is already embossed in our gate and they still fail to see it.
The tricycle would only reach the station again. That's where he'll drop me. From the station, I'll ride another tricycle again from the waiting shed nearby. Until now, I just couldn't understand why some tricycles CHOOSE their passengers. “Bakit pa sila dadaan dito 'pag ayaw naman nilang mamick-up ng pasahero?” This totally irks me. Why would they have to bother passing that area/route (there are actually other routes) if they won't even consider picking some passengers along the way? Of course there are other public transportations in that area but jeeps are usually jam-packed inside. When I have no choice, I choose the jeep. “Shit! Siksikan na naman!”
I usually get off at the foot of the highway, Then, I usually go to the other end because that's where people wait for public transportations. The highway is rusty. And it can be muddy and smelly if it's or after it's raining. Plus there are squatters behind the foot of the highway at the other end. And people are slow-pokes. Even worse, they sometimes get in the way, talking at their phones or chatting to each other. “Bilisan niyo ngang maglakad! Alam niyo namang maraming nagmamadali eh!”, I said to myself. I don't usually shout it, for fear of getting into trouble. But sometimes, I just wanna kick these people off the highway.
I usually take a jeep from there. Whether it goes to Quiapo, Cubao, City Hall or SM North Edsa, it's fine. I usually stop along Tandang Sora after that because any jeep can pass there. At around 6 AM, some people would call passengers to “endorse” the jeep. To put it simply, they would usually call passengers to ride the jeep they have chosen. After the jeep is full, the driver would pay them afterwards. Yes, that's how they make a living. I'm not looking down at them. But I don't sympathize for them either. The annoying thing is that these people refuse to stop doing their job when the jeep driver tells them to stop eventhough the jeep is not full yet. They have the potential to delay time for two hours. “Kailangan pa kasing tumawag ng pasahero eh!” If they want some wages, why don't they find a decent job? After all, I don't think what they're doing is a job in the first place. After all, passengers can handle the situation ourselves.
Sometimes, the jeep drivers couldn't (or maybe would refuse to) consider me as a student eventhough I'm wearing my ID or wearing my Ateneo P.E. shirt. When I don't pay them the exact amount (which is currently 6 pesos), the change would be smaller than the average student's. For example, when I pay 20, they usually give a change of 12 UNLESS I'll tell them out loud I'm a student. “Estudyante po yan! May ID po akong suot-suot oh!”
Upon reaching another highway, I would go to the other end because that's also where tricycles going to Balara are waiting. I don't think I have a problem with these ones though. But the congested traffic along the way is what pisses me off. “Kuya, daan na lang kayo sa may gilid para mabilis tayong makaabot doon.”
From Balara, I would take a jeep that would pass talong Katipunan. I also don't have a problem with the jeep drivers here. But sometimes, the facilitators at the jeep station and some fellow passengers can be trying. The facilitators don't care if the passengers have enough space. They want to have the exact amount of passengers in the jeep (usually 20). Plus, the other passengers would glare down at me if I refuse to give space. “Masikip na nga eh, pinapausob mo pa ako! Pagalitan mo yung 'nakaupong bahay' diyan!” Yes, there are some inconsiderate people who refuse to give space, usually male passengers.
I can be rude if people are stupid, nit-picky, slow pokes and inconsiderate. Time delays, congested traffic and jam-packed jeeps break my patience and politeness. I'm sorry typing a lot of my complaints. Not all Ateneans have comfortable cars to ride. Some have to endure this “BS” aspects of riding public transportations. I hope I'll get used to this.
P.S.: This is the updated version of the school paper I submitted last Second Semester School Year 2008-2009.
I usually commute from home to school and vice versa. I never commuted when I was in high school. The “stupidity” of most people I encounter along the way totally irks me. Maybe because public transportations are tiring, especially if you have to take five rides from home to school and vice versa.
I usually call the hotline where some tricycle would pick me up. The tricycle would pick me up from their station to our house. Upon calling, the supervisor of the station would ask the lot number and the street. I just can't seem to pronounce the word “four” clearly from the other end of the line. It's totally annoying when the supervisor would ask me up to five times until I'm almost shouting at the phone. “24 Banahaw po! Twenty FOUR, FOUR po! FOUR!” It's even more annoying when the tricycle driver would miss our house. “HOI, andito bahay po namin oh!” The lot number is already embossed in our gate and they still fail to see it.
The tricycle would only reach the station again. That's where he'll drop me. From the station, I'll ride another tricycle again from the waiting shed nearby. Until now, I just couldn't understand why some tricycles CHOOSE their passengers. “Bakit pa sila dadaan dito 'pag ayaw naman nilang mamick-up ng pasahero?” This totally irks me. Why would they have to bother passing that area/route (there are actually other routes) if they won't even consider picking some passengers along the way? Of course there are other public transportations in that area but jeeps are usually jam-packed inside. When I have no choice, I choose the jeep. “Shit! Siksikan na naman!”
I usually get off at the foot of the highway, Then, I usually go to the other end because that's where people wait for public transportations. The highway is rusty. And it can be muddy and smelly if it's or after it's raining. Plus there are squatters behind the foot of the highway at the other end. And people are slow-pokes. Even worse, they sometimes get in the way, talking at their phones or chatting to each other. “Bilisan niyo ngang maglakad! Alam niyo namang maraming nagmamadali eh!”, I said to myself. I don't usually shout it, for fear of getting into trouble. But sometimes, I just wanna kick these people off the highway.
I usually take a jeep from there. Whether it goes to Quiapo, Cubao, City Hall or SM North Edsa, it's fine. I usually stop along Tandang Sora after that because any jeep can pass there. At around 6 AM, some people would call passengers to “endorse” the jeep. To put it simply, they would usually call passengers to ride the jeep they have chosen. After the jeep is full, the driver would pay them afterwards. Yes, that's how they make a living. I'm not looking down at them. But I don't sympathize for them either. The annoying thing is that these people refuse to stop doing their job when the jeep driver tells them to stop eventhough the jeep is not full yet. They have the potential to delay time for two hours. “Kailangan pa kasing tumawag ng pasahero eh!” If they want some wages, why don't they find a decent job? After all, I don't think what they're doing is a job in the first place. After all, passengers can handle the situation ourselves.
Sometimes, the jeep drivers couldn't (or maybe would refuse to) consider me as a student eventhough I'm wearing my ID or wearing my Ateneo P.E. shirt. When I don't pay them the exact amount (which is currently 6 pesos), the change would be smaller than the average student's. For example, when I pay 20, they usually give a change of 12 UNLESS I'll tell them out loud I'm a student. “Estudyante po yan! May ID po akong suot-suot oh!”
Upon reaching another highway, I would go to the other end because that's also where tricycles going to Balara are waiting. I don't think I have a problem with these ones though. But the congested traffic along the way is what pisses me off. “Kuya, daan na lang kayo sa may gilid para mabilis tayong makaabot doon.”
From Balara, I would take a jeep that would pass talong Katipunan. I also don't have a problem with the jeep drivers here. But sometimes, the facilitators at the jeep station and some fellow passengers can be trying. The facilitators don't care if the passengers have enough space. They want to have the exact amount of passengers in the jeep (usually 20). Plus, the other passengers would glare down at me if I refuse to give space. “Masikip na nga eh, pinapausob mo pa ako! Pagalitan mo yung 'nakaupong bahay' diyan!” Yes, there are some inconsiderate people who refuse to give space, usually male passengers.
I can be rude if people are stupid, nit-picky, slow pokes and inconsiderate. Time delays, congested traffic and jam-packed jeeps break my patience and politeness. I'm sorry typing a lot of my complaints. Not all Ateneans have comfortable cars to ride. Some have to endure this “BS” aspects of riding public transportations. I hope I'll get used to this.
P.S.: This is the updated version of the school paper I submitted last Second Semester School Year 2008-2009.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
A Frustrated Artist's Newfound Talent
Drawing is the first talent I discovered. Ever since I was 2 years old, I already knew how to hold a pencil and how to move the pencil’s charcoal along a piece of paper to make a visual representation of something. No one taught me how to do it (at least that’s what the adults say). Ever since, drawing had been my favorite hobby. I would draw animals, dinosaurs, tribal houses and all the stuff I watched on National Geographic Channel (yes, I was too young to prefer National Geographic over some crappy cartoons). Although I enjoyed drawing, I never cared if my drawing sucks or not, until I was in the third grade. There was this seatmate who’s also into drawing. He draws a lot better than mine. He can draw different cartoon characters, anime characters and people. I envied him until I stopped drawing. I never draw since then. I lost the passion.
Then lately, I had this realization that my first talent will always be my talent. That drawing shall always be my passion; all I need is to develop it. However, it was already too late. I realized that I was being too idealistic. I no longer had the motivation. I was just forcing myself to copy anime drawing styles. I used to think that drawing ala japanese manga style is the true essence of drawing. Lately, I've realized that drawing (or other artistic abilities for that matter) is more than creating visual representations. An artist must always be inspired, emotionally. No matter how you persevere in practicing and refining your drawing skills, if you don’t have the passion for it, you will never be able to develop it. Yes, I don’t really have the passion at all. I've lost the passion for drawing anymore. I am not an artist, after all.
Maybe because I had discovered another personal talent: writing. At first, I hesitated to develop it. I refused to recognize writing as a talent. I began to write when I was in High School. Although I never wrote for our school paper, I wrote for school projects and essays. That’s where I discovered writing as potential. Now, I want to develop it because I am motivated to write. Recently, I had a lot of questions about life, society and the world. Ever since I discovered the internet, I had absorbed enough knowledge about what’s currently happening in our society and the world.I don’t have to keep my convictions silent. I don’t have to keep my knowledge. I have my opinion about things I deem interesting to scrutinize. These are the things that motivate me to write. I don’t have to be imaginative and creative to write. I am a more straight-forward and analytical writer. I prefer reading blogs, newspapers and magazines than novels and fan fictions. I am always inside my head musing and theorizing over things. Instead of letting it waste, I could share what I like to share and I could voice out what I want to voice out.
Lastly, from looking at what I wrote, I think I could express myself more in writing.
Writing is definitely for me.
Then lately, I had this realization that my first talent will always be my talent. That drawing shall always be my passion; all I need is to develop it. However, it was already too late. I realized that I was being too idealistic. I no longer had the motivation. I was just forcing myself to copy anime drawing styles. I used to think that drawing ala japanese manga style is the true essence of drawing. Lately, I've realized that drawing (or other artistic abilities for that matter) is more than creating visual representations. An artist must always be inspired, emotionally. No matter how you persevere in practicing and refining your drawing skills, if you don’t have the passion for it, you will never be able to develop it. Yes, I don’t really have the passion at all. I've lost the passion for drawing anymore. I am not an artist, after all.
Maybe because I had discovered another personal talent: writing. At first, I hesitated to develop it. I refused to recognize writing as a talent. I began to write when I was in High School. Although I never wrote for our school paper, I wrote for school projects and essays. That’s where I discovered writing as potential. Now, I want to develop it because I am motivated to write. Recently, I had a lot of questions about life, society and the world. Ever since I discovered the internet, I had absorbed enough knowledge about what’s currently happening in our society and the world.I don’t have to keep my convictions silent. I don’t have to keep my knowledge. I have my opinion about things I deem interesting to scrutinize. These are the things that motivate me to write. I don’t have to be imaginative and creative to write. I am a more straight-forward and analytical writer. I prefer reading blogs, newspapers and magazines than novels and fan fictions. I am always inside my head musing and theorizing over things. Instead of letting it waste, I could share what I like to share and I could voice out what I want to voice out.
Lastly, from looking at what I wrote, I think I could express myself more in writing.
Writing is definitely for me.
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