I found this fascinating quote today:

I took a closer look at the remarks of the language authorities about the English speeches delivered by President Obama. Their commentaries are valid and fascinating, teaching us not only the political meanings and implications of the speeches but also the value of stylistics in making a language powerful and moving.Lenard Dylon, KWADERNO II, Jun 2009

You should read the whole article.

Year End Gifts

Maraming maraming salamat po!

As of this moment, my heart beat is beginning to get back to its normal rate after fear and worries made it pound hardly in my chest. A total of 14 people have just been relieved of their responsibilities from our department. In a more appropriate term, these people were asked to officially resign. Not only do I know many of them, some are really close to my heart.

Included on the list of those who were asked to resign were our trainer, my former teammate, and a close friend from another category. Although I am not among those who will be counted jobless tomorrow, I feel terribly awful. Strength has escaped my knees and arms, causing pain that radiated to my chest, stomach, and lower extremities. The veins in my head were thudding erratically. Indeed, the saddest kind of sadness is the one when your tears can’t well up in your eyes; it’ll surely take toll on your chest.

My lips were almost visibly shivering when we were asked to temporarily leave our work stations. I tried to stop them. It would be a sign of cowardice to tremble. But my subconscious self simply told me, “No, you have to be calm. This is an opportunity for you to be brave.”

When we were gathered in the main hall, I just felt that that was it: The affirmation of rumors that began as early as 4 am this morning. And so they were not just rumors. They were forecast of the upcoming company weather — turbulent, stormy.

The pressure that has started to build up slowly has made me weak and — apparently — incapable of doing my job. I opened one of my books. Books console me in times of outpouring inexplicable emotions — may they be sadness or happiness.

After the process of resignation – layoff – was done and goodbyes were wholeheartedly expressed to colleagues, my feeling remained numb. Why has numbness made me a favorite in so many situations of my life? Why is it that every time something like this happens, I can barely – if not totally can’t — feel my entire body, only my heart pulsating so unusually fast in an intermittent spacing?

No words would want to come out of my mouth as if my jaws and palates were sedated with a strong anesthesia – or any kind of drug, for that matter – that would not easily slack off even after hours – or days, perhaps.

The only thing I could do was to stare. At nothing. Blankly. In stupor. I moved my eyes around and saw hanging lanterns in supposedly various gleeful shapes and joyful colors. They were so sad to look at.

Don’t lanterns suppose to remind Catholics that the season of festivities has come? I think yes, they do. But in seasons like this, sadness will still be a reality of the present and farewells will always be a thing of tomorrow. Instead of being there to lighten up the mood and heart of the Catholics, the lanterns hanging in our office seem to be there now to signify that even this world’s season greetings could not easily heal pain, that the bleak and lifeless hues of sorrow could not instantly be covered and painted by the colors and symbols of cheers.

Who really knows what would happen a second later from now? Why do things happen the way they are not expected to be? Why can’t life just be about reading so that no one would have to be hurt to learn?

Most of the time, we would be left with only one way to get an answer: Have faith.

And that was it: The odd silence, the slow dramatic pacing, and the excited breathing of a romantic love between a human being and a vampire. Is it really possible for a vampire to resist the vulnerability, beauty, and charm of a young lady who is offering herself to him? Is it realistic for a masochistic lion to spare a lamb whose heart is blinded by love?

It was almost 9:00 pm yesterday when I was compelled to write, not by anyone else but by myself — and by the books I’ve read at Bestsellers (NBS’s sister company located at Robinsons Galleria) and by the ideas that started to threaten me: “Unless you write us, we will either keep on bothering you or leave you forever.” Who wouldn’t be scared by that? Your own ideas warning to boycott you? Nah. I wouldn’t stand that. So here I am, writing on my small tickler whose name I haven’t thought of until now. (Yeah, I’m naming my tickler.)

At first, I was thinking to write the story of my life. But I told myself, “Not a chance.” My life could be interesting – at least, on my own perspective – but this blog is not all about myself. Life is not all about me either. My life is about the things I have experienced, things that I could share with – and could possibly be of help to – other people. Besides, I need to be extra cautious when expressing myself through words. They are so powerful they could destroy not only names, but characters and faith as well. And I wouldn’t want that to happen. As much as possible, I want to be happy and positive in life, no matter how relative and subjective the meaning of joy and optimism could be.

Let’s take that journey.

“History does not move by itself, rather it is we who repeat…What one should learn from history is not the names, dates and places better used for game shows and crossword puzzles. The real challenge is to recognize and break the historical cycle.”

– Ambeth Ocampo

(Torture, Philippine Daily Inquirer, 07 November 2008)

hour glass

November 3, 2008.

How long could 2 years be?

If one of them were a leap year, then it would be 731 days or 17,544 hours or 1,052,640 minutes or 63,158,400 seconds.

That’s how long two years could be — counting from ONE to SIXTY THREE MILLION, ONE HUNDRED FIFTY-EIGHT THOUSAND, FOUR HUNDRED seconds. Doing it manually would be inexact, however. It’s more precise to look at the clock’s second hand and wait for it to make 1,052,640 revolutions. That is two years.

Let’s continue to count, and incessantly hope. November 6, 2008. 734 days. 1,056,960 minutes.

It’s raining.

And when it rains, it pours.

Whether you’d like to believe it or not, I love rain. I always have! It gives me an unexplainable feeling of relief every time I see them, teeny-weeny drops of water simultaneously and spontaneously falling from the sky in succession. Perhaps, it’s the music that they create – melodic, almost rhythmic. They can be like the smooth caring musical notes produced by a full orchestra with the thunder’s tumble at a lightning’s spotlight.

The Tudors

How would you differentiate facts from myths? More importantly, how would you identify the truth from fiction?

Confusing, huh? How can they not be if a fictional story is woven out of a historical truth? Take for example The Tudors, a television series based on the life of a royal dynasty that once powerfully reigned England.

When I was in college, I have studied various history subjects related to Catholicism. Even my other courses were discussed and taught in perspective of the Catholic Church belief system, greatly motivating me — until now — to be profoundly interested on the extent of the Papal authority during the Feudal and Middle Ages. Reading books, however, seems to have been insufficient to get the feel of the real power, to see the vast expanse, and to understand the actual stretch of the Pope’s influence. And to fulfill such inadequacy of learning source, I have no choice but to resort to television, one of the most powerful communication media today.

Let’s now turn on the TV, and watch the series The Tudors.

This new fictional boob tube program satisfies my yearning to at least increase my understanding of the Pope’s roles and powers during the Feudal Age in Europe. It shows me what the books really mean with the words “the Pope as the final and sovereign moral and political authority here on earth.” It clearly depicts a historical truth that whenever there were political disputes and problems among the royal family members, the final judgment could only be settled by the Pope. The anointment and recognition of a king or queen for an instance — or of any political figure for that matter — would only be valid and recognized by the people if approved and blessed by the Pope. Furthermore, not only was the Pope powerful enough to sanction countries or to excommunicate royal officers, he also had the ability to command them to do whatever was needed so long as it was for the benefit of the Church. This ability was recognized by almost all the superpower European countries (back then) including Spain, Portugal, France, and England.

The characters of The Tudors are patterned after the real-life historical figures who once dominated and ruled England, a European nation mainly populated by Catholics before the separation of the Anglican Church. What caught my attention the most is the power and dominion held by the Church during that time. The Pope was then the most powerful person in the whole continent, exercising vast secular and political powers not only among the common people but among the kings and queens as well. And not only was he the head of the Church, but was a king surrounded, protected, and followed by the generals and soldiers wearing habits and mitres. These officers might not have been as powerful as the Pope, but their authority couldn’t nevertheless be overemphasized.

Let’s take for example a glimpse of Thomas Cardinal Wolsey, a Catholic Church Officer during the time of Henry VIII. His personality, character, and roles have been vividly described in the annals of history. As an appointed Lord Chancellor by the King, he acted as a church and political officer, taking part in the kingdom’s most delicate political affairs and clandestine monarchial issues. It was for this reason that he was informally called the alter rex, meaning the other king.

(to be continued…)

Life is like our company coffee dispenser in the pantry — limited choices, different flavors — one coffee. Best of all, when you press any button, you’d never know what flavor you’d get. Sometimes, even after tasting what you have in your mug, you still wouldn’t know if it’s mocha or cappuccino. And only after drinking it all would you finally realize and settle down for an answer: none of the above.