in which the falcon cannot hear the falconer
Pasko
The Christmas season has been maddeningly busy this year, so I wasn’t able to post proper greetings. But I did manage to record a little a capella tidbit of a familiar, heartbreaking song: Pasko Na, Sinta Ko. The song should be… significantly more melancholy than how I sang it; a nightingale’s ache. I might try another recording when my voice recovers from holiday stress, but for now, please have a listen.
Poetry
I am not a poet, but I find so much joy in poetry it’s sometimes a little pathetic how I will quote my favorite poems every single chance I get. (For instance, this post’s title and subtitle are taken from The Second Coming by W.B. Yeats.)
Some lines particularly appropriate for my current state of mind:
from In a Dark Time, Theodore Roethke
What’s madness but nobility of soul
At odds with circumstance? The day’s on fire!
I know the purity of pure despair,
My shadow pinned against a sweating wall.
That place among the rocks—is it a cave,
Or winding path? The edge is what I have.
The Philippines
Recently, in the Philippines: politicians reveal the bloody side of entitlement complexes. High-ranking officials beat up a 56-year-old man and his 14-year-old son in a golf course, and have the gall to file counter-charges. The man’s daughter wrote a heartbreaking blog post about her first-hand experience with power-mad politicians, and Noemi Dado has posted a rather comprehensive collection of links along with an incisive commentary that makes for a good introduction to the whole issue.
What fuels my outrage — apart from the violence of the incident itself — is the fact that it happened in the first place. Monsters would not be able to do this if they weren’t so confident in the protection of their power; if they were not so absolutely certain they would get away with it, eventually. There are people who say that punishment is not a good deterrent for crime: I say it is, as long as people know that the punishment will be meted out regardless of the status of the offender. This… is not the case here, where the rich get away with everything from rape to murder and former presidents somehow find a way to re-establish their positions in power despite charges of plunder. Ours is a system that fosters injustice.
And I refuse — I refuse — to simply accept this. I refuse to say, “this is the way things work, we just have to survive and hope we don’t get crushed by the unfair system.” We don’t have to tolerate injustice. Acceptance, resignation, apathy — these things will just propagate it. But we need people to actively fight against it. We have voices, we have eyes with which to see, ears with which to hear, hands with which to write messages the world can see. Time to make use of them.
Semi-related, in that it deals with justice in the Philippines and the various ways in which our legal system is twisted to suit selfish ends: our church’s head pastor called my mother earlier last night. A churchmate of ours was involved in an accident yesterday. He was in a parked car and opened his door to exit the vehicle, only for a cyclist to ram into the open door and be sent careening through the air. The cyclist was going very fast and wore no helmet. Our churchmate rushed him to the hospital, but he was pronounced dead on arrival.
By the time my mother was called in on the case our churchmate had been detained in the police station’s jail for almost twenty-four hours. He was being pressured to settle with the widow for an amount of PhP100,000 (a little more than USD2,000?) — even though he had no liabilities since, technically speaking, the death was self-inflicted. Why the pressure? The police investigator wanted a cut of the settlement. In fact, as soon as the police learned a lawyer had been called in they moved our churchmate to another jail in an attempt to hide him.
This must say something about me — that in times like these, the desire to become a lawyer and to change things rises us in me, hot and overpowering all other things (such as my common sense and self-preservational instincts). I want to change these corrupt systems. I want to be a barrier that says, No more of this: I will not succumb. I want to stand for truth and justice and equality and all those other things people hardly believe in anymore, because they see them so rarely.
I want to burn.
[...] Potpourri II: The widening gyre [...]
People need to listen to the saddest, loneliest Pasko Na, Sinta Ko song ever as they read this post. ^_^
The falcon cannot hear the falconer is right. Their thoughts and actions are so different. As for the system in this country, I don’t know how that can ever be changed. Maybe burning everything to the ground _is_ the way to go.
I found these lines particularly relevant:
…the best lack all conviction, while the worst
are full of passionate intensity.
(And now, I have to figure out how to make pings and trackbacks show up here.)
[...] Potpourri II: The widening gyre [...]
[...] contemplates: What fuels my outrage — apart from the violence of the incident itself — is the fact that it [...]
[...] Potpourri II: The widening gyre [...]
[...] Potpourri II: The widening gyre by Ephemere [...]
No, it’s not the way things should work - or the way they work, normally, at all. Part of the reason I joined government, miyaw, was to try to find out for myself whether things really ARE that terrible - and they’re not, at all. There are good eggs and bad eggs, heartbreakingly heroic stories and gravely disappointing ones.
If there is anything my years in civil service have taught me, it is that for every corrupt politician or government official there are hundreds of others, working quietly behind the scenes and hoping just as hard as anyone else for a better country. It’s our country too, after all.
Happy holidays!
Rei! It’s been ages!
Mm, yes — and I suppose all we have to do is be one of the good ones.
Have a lovely new year!
[...] Potpourri II: The widening gyre by Ephemere [...]
[...] Potpourri II: The widening gyre [...]
[...] Potpourri II: The widening gyre by Ephemere [...]
ey mia, meri krismas hapi new year :) balita? yun pa rin ba cell mo? tapusin ko lang dedlines ko nitong january, pwede na natin simulan project natin. sa wakas :D
Randy! :D :D :D Musta musta musta? Inemail kita ah!
Calligraphy blog: http://nakedsingularity.net — dito ko pinopost mga exercises ko. Tintry ko na magdigital calligraphy eh, pero traditional techniques pa rin gamit ko.
alam kong malungkot ung awiting “pasko na sinta ko”, pero pakiramdam ko’y binigyan mo ng panibagong kahulugan ang salitang ‘kalungkutan’ habang ako’y nakikinig sa saliw ng iyong awitin.
Nais ko lamang batiin ng manigong bagong taon ang aking mahal na guro
*yakap*
I have spoken my own thoughts about this issue in my own blog, but I will post a few choice selections here.
I believe that fighting broke out at the Valley Golf Club among the Pangandaman group and the Dela Paz group. I also believe that weapons were brought into the fray, and that blood was spilled. But I do not believe that we are hearing the whole truth about this incident.
Because of the backlash that was generated by the Bambee dela Paz blog, the Pangandamans are hard put to defend themselves against a tidal wave of animosity and disgust from all sides. But the pieces of the puzzle are not yet complete, and we must realize that there are always two sides to every story. We are quick to complain and condemn, even before seeing the whole picture.
Oftentimes, we find it easier to believe the words of a pretty lass rather than the protestations of adult men. In this particular case, we must choose between believing the accusations of a girl student athlete or the denials of a politician and a government official. Who do you think will be more believable?
In an effort to present a more accurate view (perhaps) of what really transpired during that fateful day at the Valley Golf Club, I have created a page in my blog which aims to share some information I have gathered from a separate website. I ask you to read the transcript carefully, and then to make your own conclusions regarding this issue.
Haha. Hm. Let’s see now:
Oftentimes, we find it easier to believe the words of a pretty lass rather than the protestations of adult men.
Oh, really? If I weren’t willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, I’d accuse you of prejudice here and now: how dare you assume that I would use gender as a basis for credibility? How dare you generalize? Who is this “we” you refer to, and how dare you ascribe such narrow-mindedness to such a population and then include me in it?
In this particular case, we must choose between believing the accusations of a girl student athlete or the denials of a politician and a government official. Who do you think will be more believable? In our popular culture of today, it is a no brainer which side will win the hearts and minds of the masses.
In addition: how dare you imply that I did not carefully examine the facts before establishing my position?
But then, okay, let’s assume you didn’t intend anything harmful by it, in which case I will not push through with my questions but will retreat and instead choose to explain myself. In point of fact, I do have reasons for believing Bambee de la Paz over Nasser Pangandaman:
1) She has less reason to lie than he does. It is well-known that anyone who slanders a person in a position of authority incurs quite some risk. She would not have done such a thing if she would not get something out of it. What benefit is there in lying? On the other hand, the Pangandaman camp has all the reasons in the world to deny accusations.
2) I have been told by some very trustworthy sources that such abusive behavior is typical of Pangandaman.
3) I have not seen anything convincing enough to refute de la Paz’s accusations: only a lot of spin and hot air.
Should you deign to comment on my blog in the future, I’ll thank you to leave baseless assumptions at the door.