Philosophy, particularly existentialism, is not about reading Sartre, Dostoevsky, Rousseau and the likes. It’s about exploring the universe with your mind. It’s not about swallowing the words and having the shallow interpretation as your sole nutrition. You mince the phrases, drink in context, compare and contrast with others, and, most of all, have your own critique.

If you want freedom without responsibility, get off this island.

Security

We safeguard what we value.

Anti-aging water. Frisking in malls. Financial safety.

Paranoia or just a way to protect your investments?

Last December, our family went to one of the latest “attractions” bountiful Mega Manila has to offer. Classy is the most apt statement. But like every other mall, there is a mandatory security check before you immerse in their World. I won’t mind if their jobs serve a purpose, a greater good. But like every other mall, it was inefficient. 

Open the bag, stick their magical wands in and feel your pockets for any suspected malicious things they may find. The difference in this World is that it takes you around a minute for them to glance at your soul. Still, they were ineffective and inefficient. The bags weren’t really checked thoroughly. I have a secret compartment in my bag they never found. Adding insult to injury, the queue was long enough that new entrants were already potential casualty for the cars dropping even new guests.

These malls make millions, billions, kill trees and subvert laws or ordinances for their honest-to-goodness business. Wouldn’t it hurt if they placed X-ray scanners or other state-of-the-art equipment and training if they wanted to secure their profits?

They’ve been ‘warned’ with the shooting incidents in the past year but it seems that these gunshots fell on deaf ears.

Responsible capitalism, where art thou?

Cataclysm

Let’s not resort to cyber-bullying. 

First, we need to dissect the post. Is it a post of facts or an opinion piece? My logic center tells me it is highly likely of the latter. Next, is it a well-grounded opinion? In a nutshell, she (the poster is verified to be female so I could use the female-oriented words) said that most of those who pass USTET are ‘bobo.’ What is ‘bobo’ for her? We read paragraph 3. One is ‘bobo’ if s/he asks why those who didn’t pass the exam feel bitter. We have to understand that her definition of ‘bobo’ is not equivalent to the colloquial use of the term. What she described is more of apathy or someone who has a little understanding of sociology and psychology or just plain human emotions and relationships. We don’t know if she used ‘bobo’ as a term to simplify this characteristic or really as a relative global cognitive deficiency.

Next, she associated UST’s being ‘walang kwenta’ and it being a ’Catholic Church.’ She is implying that if a school is a Catholic Church, then it must NOT be ‘walang kwenta’. We can cite different reasons supporting or destroying the relation of school being Catholic and its worth but what matters is she IMPLIED that a Catholic Church should not be walang kwenta. By affixing HAHAHA… (which would hopefully be a gesture of laughing), it is implied that she looks down on the school because of its lack of worth.

Lastly, she suggested a reason why the people who are ‘matalino’ based on her criteria didn’t pass the USTET. They themselves know that they are very smart and as such, would pass the entrance tests of other good schools. “Since walang kwenta ang UST, waka ng mag-eenroll sa kanila.” Let’s give her the benefit of the doubt in this last paragraph, in which she forgot to add a few more phrases to explain her proposed reason further. I hypothesize that what she meant was that smart people intentionally failed the test so that UST could have enrollees. However, this doesn’t work well with what she stated in her second paragraph.  ”SRSLY. Ano bang problema ng school na to? NAKAKAHIYA SILA.” That means it is more likely that the alleged smart people didn’t fail their exam intentionally. One, it must be her style to be convoluted with her stream of thought. She might be sarcastic (which would be quite ineffective). Or her opinion just really isn’t well-educated.

Working impression: The post is a disrespectful opinion that encompasses a shallow perspective and not well-substantiated by hard facts.

Since works of literature should not be constrained with one interpretation, we should order labs. We could interview her, undress her personality, or the most convenient way, to check out her blog posts to affirm some assumptions.

Ideally, we have to read her whole blog to understand her style but given time constraint and relevance of writing this post with my life, I only got into about the first twenty pages of her ‘book’. Was it sarcasm? No. Digging up her archives, we learn that she writes straightforward what she sees or feels because of her right to free speech. She replies those who negatively responded to her post with “this is my opinion. I don’t care about yours.” And now, she deactivated her tumblr. We have very miniscule doubt that she really intentionally gave a disrespectful opinion. And she needs someone to guide her given all the hate and destruction she channels in her tumblr.

To theindifferentmasochist: You could be a rebel but if you want some things like acceptance, peace, respect and become a lawyer, what you are currently doing won’t get you there. Freedom of speech doesn’t absolve you of freedom of responsibility.  Try reading up on the philosophy of truth. Watch coming-of-age films or books. You just had 13 years of existence, you could still do more for yourself and for everyone you affect directly or indirectly.

Final word of advice: Don’t let your opinion stink like an onion. 

You didn’t ask for it but it comes along anyway.

You weren’t ready but the world never waits for you to be.

We got here because we got here.

A moment of reprieve. Of closure and desperation. What we wanted but never worked for.

And we play chess with nothing but pieces of our worned-out selves.

Futile was our truce for there is nothing else to lose.

It will never be the same. It will never be the same.

If you know how to do something, do it. You can’t wait for other people to grow up, for med students to acquire the power of compassion, for benign housemates to clean up their own mess instead of partying, watching or playing.

(On cleaning the communal area for one and a half hours after a three week war with Cardiology)

The instant I went instant, I was stunned.

After months of abstinence for a myriad of reasons, I finally gave in. Bought myself a cup of an expensive-brand/you-but-it-for-the-ambience/consumerist coffee for the last stretch of this semester. And my predictions were true. I fell asleep even after a healthy dose of their caffeine. My body is now able to tolerate coffee well that I would need to drink dehydrated drinks or double to triple the dosage for the same cup. It feels good to be able to reach your academic goals on time but it just feels different. It is too unnatural. It feels like sugar-coated poison for me even if others say it’s just a bitter pill. I’ve again become dependent on something extrinsic of this body I clothe my soul with. It feels like cheating but worse. A betrayal of one’s principles. A hypocrite. A human.

Cerebral Ripening

Eighteen is a terrifying number. Not from taking full responsibility of your actions but expectations of maturity in mental, physical, emotional and social states. That I fear turned out not only defined what I want for myself but also the standards I set for everyone else. Same thing as when you interact with a UP graduate, you expect her/him to be an evidence-based intellectual. The good side of this attitude is recognition of one’s capabilities and characterization of adulthood. The danger, though, which I experience many times, is my complete disregard of our individuality. We mature differently. We grow up differently. We’re just plain different. You can never always expect an adult, by age, to understand that their actions have consequences if this hypothetical person was born with a silver spoon and a golden diaper. Here comes my immaturity. Setting people into boxes based on age when clearly development is multifactorial and not defined by laws and constitutions.

Eighteen is a terrifying number. It’s adaptability that I need to learn by this age. Patience that some people were unable to learn elementary lessons and virtues in keeping order in this town. Somehow, at this age, the world asks us to keep peace among us while containing all our inner turmoils.

P.S. Most importantly, what I need to learn is comprehensible writing. Yet again another inchoherent piece.

A Hipster Genocide

Have you dreamt of a world without hipsters?

Disclaimer: Just so we’re clear, this is a thought experiment. I am not advocating mass killing of any group of humans who share a common underwear. And my crude hipster stereotype may not be your crude hipster stereotype so let’s just have fun.

1. Hipsters acknowledge their lonely superiority. Since hipsters are human beings by default, there is a need to socialize, and Tumblr was born. Therefore, shut Tumblr down. 

2. Drugs, alcohol and cigarettes make them feel alive. With the definition of genocide in mind, we should take their water and identity away. Such task is quite monumental. Some of these things are illegal in the first place yet a community has grown with such recreational stuff as their idols. Upon consultation with my psychopathy handbook, we could always use the tried-and-tested sharkbait technique. They’d die happily in each other’s arms, feeling the lights, biting the woobs of the delish dubstep and suffocating from the awesomeness of smoke. 

3. Cut off their oil supply. The parent card has always been a quick solution with these cases.

4. Bomb bookstores. Hipsters like showing off their culture with p-books, or physical books. ‘nuff said.

5. Crush Apple with lawsuits. Of course, no hipster can live without music. Without the glorified music player, the iPod. 

6. Nanobot-infused skinny jeans. Once the jeans detect that a hipster wears it in a party, get ready for peripheral vascular disease.

7. Using Photoshop to make hipster (vintage, lomo, grunge, washed-out, acid-washed, etc.) images would be outside the scope of the EULA. Again, this might just backfire because for them abiding by the rules is so uncool.

8. Add hipster disorder in the DSM-IV-TR and place precautions to scare them off from people. Mass indoctrination. But they might regress and become emos and kill themselves if the pain of ostracization becomes too much to bear.

9. Sell those hipster glasses that ultra-magnifies the sunlight or just any light to your irises.

10. What do we do with the headbands? Maybe, infect them with fleas and head lice.

You could actually stop reading but since every post nowadays needs to have a positive comeback, here is your dose of warmth:

We might have got rid of those irresponsible self-absorbed kids but you can’t deny the power they have over us. Without hipsters, who would be the butt of our hipster jokes on 9gag? Just kidding. Now on a more serious note, our hate just reaffirms their might. They are a force to reckon with . A reminder of our lost ideal childhood. Of the delusions of freedom without responsibility, without thinking how our choices affect everyone else. How fun life is for our souls out of our bodies. They remind us of what we left behind to share what we have with others. The God complex. We might just be insecure in the end as they have accomplished and surpassed us in being themselves. And if we really want to get rid of them, we can do it the non-hipster way. We could always help them hipsters be free from their social insecurities, the developmental pitfalls they are stuck in and the parental and high school issues they never grew up from. That’s how we could make them responsible taste makers. Quite hard but there’s no harm in trying. 

Let’s do what we non-hipsters know to do: caring.

Hating Manila

I understand why people hate Manila. Reminds them of their misery. Not being in their safe zone. The pollution. The poverty. How terrible life has become. But are those reasons sufficient to hate Manila? 

Why hate something you never fully knew? I love Manila for her imperfections. You could always learn a thing or two everyday if you just open your eyes. The best restaurants. The best shops. Less of the superficial fluff, you could learn how syndicates work, ethics of giving, human nature being simple and complicated at the same time, and most importantly, the art that people exert their effort on. Art could be the paintings sold at the mall, to con artists, the big ones at Metropolitan Museum, musicals or plays at the CCP or just the sunset by the bay crafted by some supreme being or a product of a constellation of different forces of nature.

It could have been just teenage angst or a drive for attention but it’s almost four years and people still tell the world they hate Manila. Well, Manila hates you too for having a narrow perspective. Considering we are men and women of science, we should expect more from our cortices. 

Once, you wanted to leave when there was something else to live.

Signs from the stars and the moon but all you looked for was the sun in the night.

See past the bruises, the scars of the alien in the mirror. 

You were not you. You are not you. You will never be you.

You are the next you

You are the next you.

Sounds silly at first listen but the message might not be just apparent as expected. You, the you of this moment, you who are in the time of your life and had a feeling that tonight was a good night that you can shout to the world, “Imma be whoever I want to be” is the light, the optimism, the naivety, the child who is out there to wonder, the one necessary aspect we may lose in the future. 

This line came from a music event with performers hailing from the land of electro hop. With the bass freeing you from the chains of paradigms, these words will all be lost through the skin and reverberate back but somehow, the message of empowerment pervades in our subconscious. The unconscious need. The thirst we deny of suffering from. With the rigors of the daily rituals, we get exhausted from the strife of tomorrow, the toils from our peers seeping to ours, and our very own exertions. With broken families, mismatched relations, we find upliftment from our own muses.

Their life stories are our inspirations. Even their simple acts of awesomeness keep the fire burning in our souls. It never occurred to me that Fergie had so much talent. Sans the distortions of liquid crystals, her performances were vocally outstanding. Lea Salonga was the one of the few who said Fergie really had the guts and musical finesse the critics were missing out. Without the auto-tune, will.i.am, is still a good rapper but the surprise of the night were the two members who didn’t share much of the spotlight now than back in their simple LA days. Taboo and apl.de.ap had nice rapping voices and were great dancers.

Lines and chords have been their strength but it warms my heart to know that these artists extend their arms to deliver their message in concrete ways with their hands. Empowerment should be followed by education and it is wise and nice to see that apl.de.ap used this approach to give back even when not asked.

It feels nice to be human.

Litmus Test of Compassion

Instead of an entrance interview, UPCM should place hidden cameras around the home of the INTARMED candidate. Collaborating with every other member of the house, they’d set up scenarios and evaluate the course of action of the future doctor. One scenario involves taking out the person who commonly or usually cleans their bathroom. Hopefully we see the fresh high school graduate’s orientation to service. A home is a community and the house is the environment nobody owns but everybody has a right to use.  Therefore, it is every member of the household’s duty to keep it how it was given or how it would be equitably best to everyone else. If this doesn’t manifest on his attitudes then I don’t think he’d be useful for the best interest of our college, university and the underserved. Then again, I might just be jumbling up community orientation and community work.

When I feel morose of the incessant failure I am today, I just like to think that I believe that I think I have a firmer grasp of reality than they do. And somehow, there’s a price they haven’t paid for the carefree, and careless to a point, lives. It’s not that they have to experience bad things for the happiness they’re submerged in now but their actions will always affect them one way or another, big or small, today or tomorrow. Everything we do manifests outside our realm of control but most importantly bounces back to us. Just like the iceberg that blocked Titanic’s path. Killing Jack, icebergs are now suffering Rose’s wrath with some help from global warming. Very wrong but fun. Now back to trying to do something right without any assurance that it will do good to my future.