"Open Letter to Our Leaders" by S.C. Austero

Originally posted in his blog, Out of my mind.

Dear Tita Cory, Senators, Congressmen, Businessmen, Media people, Leftists, and all Bleeding Hearts Out There:

I am angry. And I know that there are many out there who are angrier than I am for the same reason. And that reason is simple. I am sick and tired of all you guys claiming to speak for me and many Filipinos. I feel like screaming every time you mouth words about fighting for my freedom and my rights, when you obviously are just thinking about yours. You tell me that the essence of democracy is providing every citizen the right to speak his or her mind and make his or her own informed judgments, but you yourselves do not respect my silence and the choices I and many others have made. In other words, your concept of democracy is limited to having your rights and your freedoms respected, at the expense of ours.

I am utterly flabbergasted that you still do not get it: we already responded to your calls, and our response has been very clear - we chose not to heed your calls to go to EDSA or to Fort Bonifacio not because we do not love our country or our freedoms or our rights, but precisely because we love our country even more. Because quite frankly, we are prepared to lose our freedoms and our rights just to move this country forward. You may think that is not correct, you can tell me all the dire warnings about the evils of authoritarian rule, but quite frankly all we see is your pathetic efforts to prop up your cause. You tell me that you are simply protecting my freedoms and my rights, but who told you to do that? I assure you that when I feel that my rights and my freedoms are at a peril, I will stand up and fight for them myself.

You tell us that GMA is not the right person to lead this country because she has done immoral acts. As someone who sees immorality being committed wantonly in many ways every day and by everyone (yes, including the ones you do), I may have become jaded. But you have not been able to offer me any viable alternative, while GMA has bent over backwards many times to accommodate you while continuing to work hard despite all the obstacles and the brickbats you have thrown her way. From where I sit, she is the one who has been working really hard to move this country forward while all of you have been so busy with one and only one thing: to make sure she does not succeed. So forgive me if I do not want to join you in your moral pissing contest. Forgive me if I have chosen to see things from another perspective. You say she is the problem. I say, we are the problem, more to the point, I think you are a bigger problem than she is. Taking her out may solve part of the problem, but that leaves us with a bigger problem: you. That is right, YOU!

While I felt outraged that she called a Comelec official during the elections and that she may have rigged the elections, I have since then taken the higher moral ground and forgiven her. Yes my dear bishops, I have done what you have told me to do since I was a child, which you say is the Christian and moral thing to do: forgive. Especially since she has asked for forgiveness and has tried to make amends for it. Erap certainly has not apologized and continues to be defiant, continuing to insult us everyday with his protestations. Cory has not apologized for her incompetence but we have forgiven her just the same because like GMA, she has worked hard after all.

I know you do not think that GMA's apology was not enough, or that she was insincere, or that that apology should not be the end of it, but please spare me the hypocrisy of telling me that you do so for the sake of protecting the moral fibre of society. The real reason is because you smell blood and wants to go for the kill.

Well, I have news for you. I do not like her too. I did not even vote for her. I voted for Raul Roco. But as much as I do not like her, I do not like you even more. I may not trust her, but guess what, I do not trust you even more.

You know why? Because all you do is whine and sabotage this country. You belittle every little progress we make, conveniently forgetting that it is not just GMA who has been working so hard to achieve them. Every single day, we keep the faith burning in our hearts that this country will finally pull itself out of the mess and we work so hard to do that. Every little progress is the result of our collective effort, we who toil hard everyday in our jobs. Yet, you persist in one and only thing: making GMA look bad in the eyes of the world and making sure that this country continues to suffer to prove your sorry point. In the process, you continue to destroy what we painstakinly try to built. So please do not be surprised that I do not share your cause. Do not be surprised that we have become contemptuous of your antics. You have moved heaven and earth to destroy her credibility, you have convened all kinds of fora and hearings and all you have done is test our patience to the core. For all your effort, you have only succeeded in dragging us further down. I say enough.

Don't get me wrong. I am not asking that we take immorality lying down, or that we let the President get away with anything illegal. But you have tried to prove your accusations all these time and you have not succeeded, so it is time to let things be. Besides, you are doing something immoral as well if not utterly unforgivable. The Magdalo soldiers are consorting with the communists - the same people who have been trying to kill democracy for years. Cory has been consorting with Erap and the Marcoses.

So please wake up and take a reality check. In the absence of true and genuine moral leadership, many of us have decided to cast our lot with the President, even if we do not like her. A flawed leader is better than scheming power hungry fools who can not even stand up for their convictions in the face of an impending arrest.

Your coup attempts and the denials that you have consequently made only underscore what we think is true: you are spineless and unreliable people whose only defense is to cry suppression when your ruse do not work. You are like bullies who taunt and provoke, but cry oppression when taken to task for your cruelty.

I would have respected you if you took the consequences of your actions like real heroes: calmly and responsibly instead of kicking and screaming and making lame excuses. You say you are willing to die for us, that you do all these things for the country and the Filipino, but you are not even willing to go to jail for us.

Come on, you really think we believe that you did not want to bring down the government when that is the one and only thing you have been trying to do in the last many months?

We love this country and we want peace and progress. Many among us do not give a f*&k who sits at Malacanang because we will work hard and do our share to make things work. If you only do your jobs, the ones that we elected you to do, things would be a lot simpler and easier for every one.

The events during the weekend only proved one thing. You are more dangerous and a serious threat to this country than GMA is. We have seen what you are capable of doing - you are ready to burn this country and reduce everything to ashes just to prove your point. If there is something that we need protection from, it is protection from you.

Originally posted by S.C. Austero in his blog, Out of my mind.

The Simpsons, Live!

a live action version of the famous Simpsons opening

Moneypenny Monday: Philip Seymour Hoffman and Reese Witherspoon

Six Degrees of James Bond



Today is a special day for the movie world, so this Moneypenny Monday will be a double feature. Philip Seymour Hoffman and Reese Witherspoon were announced as the winners for Best Actor and Best Actress respectively in this morning's Academy Awards for excellently portraying two famous American personalities.

1. Philip Seymour Hoffman starred in Patch Adams opposite Robin Williams, who played the title role that movie.
2. Williams starred with John Lithgow in the film adaptation of John Irving's The World According to Garp.
3. Lithgow was in Footloose with Kevin Bacon.
4. Bacon starred in Apollo 13 opposite Tom Hanks.
5. Hanks was with Meg Ryan in two films: Sleepless in Seattle and You've Got Mail.
6. Sir Sean Connery was with Ryan in The Presidio.
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1. Reese Witherspoon starred in Legally Blonde, which also featured Luke Wilson.
2. Cameron Diaz was with Wilson in Charlie's Angels.
3. Leonardo di Caprio starred opposite Diaz in Gangs of New York.
4. Tom Hanks chased Di Caprio in Catch Me If You Can.
5. Hanks played Sally Field's son in Forrest Gump.
6. Field was with Pierce Brosnan in Mrs. Doubtfire.

Last Call for the 4th Annual Oscar Predicter Contest!

The last day of registration is March 4, Manila Time (March 4, 12nn EST/10am CST).

To those who have registered, the ballots are due on the same date.

Register and vote now!

A Fish Called Cleo

I have a pet fish named Cleo. Named after Geppetto's pet goldfish from the 1940 Disney classic Pinocchio and not the famous queen of ancient Egypt, Cleo is a female swordtail (Xiphophorus hellerii) which I bought at the UP Shopping Center pet fish store for 10 pesos as a gift to myself. She actually costs as much as her food since a packet (a sachet, if you will) of her flakes cost 10 bucks as well. In fact, if I had opted for the fish pellets which cost 20 pesos, she'd actually cost half her food.

Anyway, I take care of Cleo more or less religiously. I feed her two tiny flakes a day. I placed her tiny bowl in a saucer with water because I once saw ants crawl into her bowl (which killed them because, duh, the bowl's filled with water). I change her water as often as possible. These exercises have led me to many observations, the first of which is that she has suicidal tendencies.

You know Blubber? Amelie Poulain's pet fish? Yep, Cleo's like that. When we change her water (I usually ask for help), she jumps whenever we try to catch her. Sometimes, she jumps so high, she actually lands on the dry kitchen tiles, literally brushing herself with death. It's peculiar. Perhaps she doesn't fully realize that it's all for her own good. She is probably unaware that changing her water is necessary for her own survival, though traumatic procedures such as being scooped out of her liquid surroundings must be taken.

I have also observed that Cleo is anorexic. Whenever I drop her flakes into the water, she doesn't eat them right away like my previous pet fishes. She doesn't even sniff, poke or taste them. Nothing. Nadda. Zilch. During the first few weeks, I'd leave her like that and come back a few minutes later to see that the flakes have disappeared, leading me to assume that she had already eaten them and that she prefers to eat in private, like a human being. But the alarming thing is that, lately, I would come back and find the flakes soaked and left untouched by Cleo.

The weird thing is, not only is she anorexic but she is also bulimic! I watched her eat once and noticed that she would "sample" the flake, then eat it whole (the flake, half her size, would literally disappear in an instant into her mouth), then spit it back out!

My mother says I've placed Cleo in an oppressive environment, given that her bowl is so small, it carries only a cup of water. She says this may have caused her to go berserk. She also hypothesizes that these psychological illnesses may only mask the rebellion that she has against me, the one who has enslaved her.

Well, she is a tiny fish. With a bowl that small and fish that size, I figured I may have hit upon the perfect apartment-friendly pet.

Maybe Cleo wants the pellets. She may even be Epicurean after all and tolerates only the finest food! That being the pellets for fishes. Maybe I'll buy the pellets...

Friday Morning Fire

Before I went to bed that night, I made sure that my cellphone would wake me up on time. Little did I know that, indeed, I would wake up with a jolt the following morning, but not because of my phone.

I moved to my parents' room at dawn because my sisters, who were getting ready for school, were noisy. I went back to sleep. An hour or so later, as I recall, I heard crackling sounds and people shouting. I was slightly irked but was too sleepy to do anything about it. Maybe the neighbors are fighting again, I thought. I explained the crackling sounds as rain or a hail storm (when you're asleep, you believe in certain things...). I don't know how much longer I slept, but Ate Rosselle suddenly burst into my parents' room and screamed my name. She told me there was a fire.

I sprang out of bed in an instant. I ran down the stairs because it was human instinct to run away from danger. I was wearing my floral pajamas with ruffles. Somehow, I still had the sense to cover myself up. Luckily, an old UC Berkeley sweatshirt was left on the dining table, and I wore it as I rushed outside.

Outside, I saw that our neighbors were already evacuating. I went to the front yard and looked up to the roof of our house. There was a cloud of smoke climbing higher and higher into the air, the source of which we inferred to have to been at the back of our house. We were informed that it was the other row of houses behind our row that was on fire.

As I watched the ruckus that had formed in our driveway, I realized that I also had to take out valuables from our house. I was constantly taught in school, during those fire drills which we liked because they delayed classes, that if there were a fire, we should leave our things and just move out because our lives were the top priority. This time, I rushed back into the house and fumbled for a moment. I walked back and forth, frantically deciding on which of our belongings were the most valuable. I had finally finished Walden the night before and thought, has Thoreau's message of fronting only the essentials gotten over me? Do really think that my life and the clothes on my back were all I needed to save? Well, my mind eventually took control of the situation, and I immediately grabbed hold of my schoolbag (which contained my orgranizer, notebooks, iPod, etc.), other notebooks and my Film 110 photographs. I went back and got my diary/journal, my wallet, my readings, my school records and a box containing the only 3 medals I had received in my life and pre-war photographs of my grandfather. I rushed upstairs and took out my whole drawer of mementos (which included my old diary, a VHS tape of 2 Mork & Mindy and 2 Happy Days episodes, the commemorative Philippine Centennial Swatch watch, my unfinished novel from 6th grade...) and a box of my toys (my Lego Studios, my Silly Putty, my X-Ray vision glasses...).

I paused for a moment to regain my strength out by the front yard. I was thirsty, so they gave me water to drink. I stood for a while longer until we realized that my father was still inside. I rushed back upstairs to look for him. I found him dumping my mother's jewelry onto a blanket that he had laid out on the bed. He told me to follow suit, so I ran to our room, grabbed the bedspread of my sister's bed and laid it out on the floor. There I dumped what I felt were things that money could not buy--old family photographs.

After I had assured myself that I had taken out everything that was of utmost importance to me, I rushed back upstairs to watch the fire. I approached the window closest to the burning house and felt the heat penetrate the glass. I saw, a mere 4 meters away from me, the source of the crackling sound that had bugged me while I slept soundly in my parents' room minutes ago. I managed to make mental notes of everything that I observed that morning and knew immediately that the image of those orange flames would remain vivid in my memory.

I sat out by the front yard, knowing that there was nothing else for me to do but pray. I looked around me and saw our neighbors whose house was right behind those flames that I saw earlier. The grandmother prayed the rosary (reminding me that I should do the same), the mother cried and the daughter (my old playmate) did too. I realized that I had not really seen her face to face in ages, perhaps a decade. And here we were once again, in the same driveway where we used to play during the summers of our childhood, now encroached by firetrucks, drawn out of our own indoor worlds because of same alarming incident.

When the firemen arrived, they rushed into our neighbors' house, flooding their ground floor. Better water-damaged than fire-damaged. I rushed back up and watched how they tried to kill the fire. They walked over the roof right in front of me and my father, prompting us to leave the room. I thought that if they saw us there, they might think that they had to save us when there were more urgent things to do. I learned later that a firewoman got hurt in the operation.

Mediamen arrived immediately, and I realized how quick these people are at looking for stories. I saw the firemen's faces, serious but obviously used to this kind of thing. Some of them were even smoking! Maybe it was just me, but I felt then that a fireman smoking in the middle of an emergency was like fraternizing with the enemy. At that time, the alleged culprit was an air conditioner, though I still don't know the real cause of the incident.

In the end, our house was not damaged. We were saved by my father's quick, calm thinking (the first thing he did was to call the fire department), and the firewall behind our house. That wall, which served as the perennial view from our parents' room, where I wanted to paint a vine with one last leaf just like Mr. Behrman did for Johnsy. That wall saved us.

Looking back, I realize that the experience taught me a lot about myself. Grabbing my schoolbag first showed that my studies were my priority right now. I recall seeing boxes of clothes being taken out by our neighbors. It didn't even cross my mind at that time to take out clothes.

I remember, when everything started to settle down, sitting in my parents' room. I listened to the sounds. Amidst the spraying water from the firetruck's hose and the bellowing of the firemen, I heard a bird happily chirping away. I looked over the window and saw it perching on one of the air conditioner railings.

Rosie's Diner R.I.P.

I had heard about this sad piece of news from my parents months ago, but it was only yesterday when my family headed home from the 10th Philippine International Hot Air Balloon Fiesta that I saw with my very own eyes the remains of Rosie's Diner.

Words cannot describe the heavy, depressing emotion that tugged my heart as I gazed upon what was left of that diner. It was once gleaming with neon lights, blaring out invitations to customers hungry for both food and a little nostalgia. I can still remember first walking in and stepping onto their black and white tiles. I remember sitting by the diner tables or the stools by the counter, ordering a chocolate milkshake and a burger and fries. I remember playing The Beatles's "Can't Buy Me Love" on their jukebox for a peso or two, waiting for my order. I remember the waitresses skating down to our table to serve our dinner. I remember the phenomenon that would occur every time I would get out of that diner, satisfied gastronomically, emotionally and intellectually. It was always as if I was stepping out of the 1950's and back into the present.

On trips to Clark, eating at Rosie's was always the last stop before heading for Manila. Last night, we continued that tradition, but we didn't go beyond the dark and empty parking lot. Rosie's was no longer bright with neon lights. Waitresses were no longer skating inside. The jukebox was no longer playing any hit from yesteryear. Nostalgic customers were no longer slurping the milkshakes and chomping on their burgers.

An ironic, washed out "Rosie's Diner" sign painted in front of the lot was all that was left of the place. There was no way of seeing what was inside because the once inviting windows were now blocked with hostile plywood boards. It was desolate. It was quiet. It was gloomy. It was no longer Rosie's Diner.

"People don't know what they missed," my mother mumbled morosely.

I agreed with her.

As we took a final glance and sped away, I was comforted by the fact that, though a lot of people may have never experienced Rosie's, at least I did. And for few hours, every couple of years, I was able to travel back in time, into a world where I belonged.