Remembering the Maguindanao Massacre

It's amazing who you find in social networking sites. I, for one, have recently been contacted by an acquaintance from my NSPC days. Karlos Manlupig, I remember him from the time I was in Paete Laguna but I didn't know I competed with him directly during high school. I was surprised to know that he has gone tibak now.

Anyway, I borrowed this photo from him which he took the other day at Davao City. It's the same one which landed on gmanews and pinoyweekly, though the one on gmanews had been quickly replaced.

It's been six months, but still, no one has been held accountable for the Maguindanao massacre. It's depressing, really, that until now no case against the Ampatuans who were accused to be behind the mass murder has prospered. Even though this event had shook the nation and enraged journalists and human rights activists the world over, I fear that the Maguindanao massacre will be buried in the Filipino consciousness under the category "important but forgotten". Just like Joseph Estrada's jueteng scandal or Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo's Hello Garci and NBN-ZTE deal or even JocJoc Bolante's fertilizer fund scam.

That being said, I do believe those who are pushing for the case should still be cautious. Although the families of the victims are disappointed with the snail-paced judicial process, I do believe that whoever is prosecuting the case should do so with great care as we can't avoid to have short-cuts that might only bring it down during the appeal process.

Indeed, justice is yet to be served. Describing that massacre, where more than fifty people were murdered in cold blood, as brutal and inhuman is just an understatement. If we allow justice to elude the victims, would that not amount to the same inhumanity as the massacre itself?

I sincerely hope that the perpetrators of this crime be made responsible soon. But I hope, even more so, that the public's memory will not be as fickle as its political opinion.

Freshman Again

Graduate school -- this is the extension of my college years.

Despite my doubts, I have officially decided to proceed to law school. In fact, I have already enlisted myself online, and with that, I'm happy to say that I only have 16 units this coming semester. That amounts to two subjects a day except on Fridays when I only have one. Based solely on the number of units, it would seem that this academic load is way lighter than the one I had during my BAA undergraduate years. But as far as word-of-mouth goes, this won't necessarily be the case.

I've heard several law school horror stories, and I believe some of them are true. A few could be exaggerated, maybe even made-up just to scare me. But for some reason, I am not intimidated by law school. It's not out of pride or anything, because as far as I'm concerned, the idea of going to school, not exactly to study law, relieves me more than it arouses feelings of academic pressure.

If there's one other place where I feel most at home, it would be UP Diliman. It was here that I built dreams, met friends, was humbled, cried and poured my heart and soul on things that I knew would either make or break me as a person. Here, I was never bothered by traffic or polluted city air or expensive lifestyle. In fact, I stayed in its dormitories for four years, paying very little for my lodging and nothing for my tuition fees. It was here that I literally ate, slept and studied. For quite some time, this was my whole world. Little though as it was, I was content.

As an alumna, all I feel for the university now is gratitude for everything it has given me. Of course, all the nice things I typed here might change once I'm in law school and I'm crying my heart out because of a bad recitation. When that time comes, I might think that the world has conspired against me, but let this post be a personal reminder to myself that the days I spent in UP were among the happiest. So there is absolutely no reason for me to sulk and be the drama queen I am likely to morph back into.

On a lighter note, I do hope to find new friends at Malcolm Hall, though it would still be sweet to occasionally annoy Bambi and Ate Anisah especially before their dreaded recitations (insert evil laugh here).

For reference to my future friends, I am in Block A and although we haven't officially met or got ourselves enrolled for that matter, we already have -- tantararan -- an assignment.

King Bee

Look at them. I swear, King Bee could be Jollibee's ultimate copycat. In fact, King Bee could pass off as the Chinese version of Jollibee whereas Jollibee himself is just a copycat of Ronald McDonald. Come to think of it, Jollibee doesn't look Filipino at all, what with his red tuxedo and pale complexion.

I discovered King Bee through my friend RJay, who I am convinced is out to stuff me with food and make me fat. Unlike Jollibee, King Bee serves authentic Chinese cuisine. Known for its branches at the outskirts of Manila like those in Cavite and Antipolo, King Bee ventured to put up another branch at E. Rodriguez right in front of the Church of Christ the King. It's a very good location, being the midpoint between where me and the rest of my friends live.

We went here last week to avail the 40% discount on all dimsum items, a promo which can be availed of only from 8:00 p.m. onwards. It was so sulit because the food was great and the service was excellent. Although I am reluctant to post another food entry, I can't help but talk about King Bee because of its association with Jollibee in my head. Besides, what can I do? I will only be a bum for a dwindling two weeks and so far, all I have been doing is lamon to the max.

Faith(less)

I don't know how he knew, but a close friend recently pointed out the fact that I am ignoring my Sunday obligation. Blatant as the truth was, I thought I should give the church another go. So even though it was a Thursday, I decided to tag along him as he say his weekly novena prayers at the parish of St. Jude Thaddeus.

The church was hot that day, as with everything else. It was a skin-deep never-ending Thursday heat, like being baked inside an oven. I wondered, wasn't it the cold that was next to godliness, while sin was supposed to be the one associated with the fires of hell? What was it about God or Jesus or whoever he was that I often feel out of place and a little distracted every time I go to church, at any church for that matter?

All churches felt like this, or all the churches I had been in anyway. There was something about them -- the mean stabby wood, the stones exhaling dead breath all over you -- that always made me think of Dante's Inferno. I wonder if it might be worth announcing myself a Catholic.

Catholics, we have a thing for candles. Perhaps we cannot get enough of the heat as it is, lining up the way we do at the church's narrow candle area, hoping against hope that all our wishes will reach the ears of God via the little black smokes of the burning little sticks. That was how it was at St. Jude, him being the patron of hopeless cases and all.

I only stood throughout the entire Eucharist, like all other late-comers. I left my pamphlet at home too, so I sang Tantum Ergo guided only by my memory. Maybe it was a mistake for me to come here, with a heart that was stone-cold and the words of God not penetrating through. I wasn't always like this you know, having served as a lector for two years at the church inside my university. Somewhere between transferring to our current apartment and working in Ayala Avenue, I lost touch of my spirituality. It was only during my board exam review that I got to do novena prayer every week or attend Sunday service without fail. Perhaps it was only when I needed a miracle that I sought for God with fervor. A fervor that could easily be mistaken for hypocrisy.

St. Jude being renovated. Only the middle section retains the glory of the old days.

It was exactly around this month that I started going to St. Jude last year. The church was beautiful then, in an old-fashioned Filipino sort of way. Now, the pale-pink walls are replaced with a cleaner, more modern kind of white, like the ones you see in hospitals. I think the one thing that hasn't changed is the priest. He is Chinese, with defeated hair and mimsy voice. He is still around, his diction still odd and he still keeps punctuating things in the wrong places.

Perhaps most of the people I had gone to church with that day were students. Aspiring CPAs to be exact, as the board exam is on-going as I type this. I wonder how may of them will pass this May. I wonder, even more so, how many of them were like me, coming to St. Jude with aspiration and leaving just as quickly once the wish has been granted.

I am not out here to persecute them and say things that will only reflect my own lack of faith. I have not found any resolve as to how to change myself and my attitude towards religion. But I will try to go to church more often, and I will listen to priests even when they speak incomprehensibly, and I will try my hardest not only to become a good person, but to become a practicing Catholic because believe it or not, I am not as godless or as faithless as you might have come to conclude I am.

Peanut Butter Co.

Have you ever tried putting peanut butter in your spaghetti? Nobody say eeeeww until you've tasted Peanut Butter Co.'s classic spaghetti. Yes sir, this unlikely combination has left me with a delectable first impression that makes me yearn for more.

Peanut butter. Who would have thought to put this on everyday food like chicken wings and fried potatoes? I'd say the concept is genius, but the marketing is a bit off. The owners might have thought of capturing the movie-goers at SM North EDSA's IMAX theater, but there really wasn't much foot traffic going on in the store.

The ones who flock it are perhaps gourmet lovers who might have heard of the store from a friend or had read rave reviews about it. Otherwise, I don't think anyone in his right mind would want to try peanut butter with roast beef straight off. If I may make a bold, unsolicited suggestion here, a branch should be opened at Serendra, somewhere in Boni High where a more sophisticated market can be easily captured.

But whoever owns the store, I've got to hand it to him, the food was spec-amazing-tacular. Since I can't really eat superlarge servings, I only had the spaghetti. RJay had the PB Burger Sandwich, which was equally delicious as my food choice. Though he says it's way better.

Classic Spaghetti (Php 130) in sun-dried tomato peanut butter and meat sauce

PB Burger Sandwich (Php 185) with sesame peanut butter, lettuce, tomato and peanut cucumber mayo

Other choices include Elvis, The King Sandwich, a bestseller with its crunchy peanut butter, bacon and banana; Green Tea Vanilla Sandwich with green tea peanut butter, rice crispies and vanilla cream cheese; Black Forest Sandwich with dark chocolate peanut butter, cherries and vanilla cream cheese and much much more.

Apart from the gourmet pasta and sandwiches, you can also buy bottles of exotic-flavored peanut butter including Sun-dried Tomato, Chili, Cardamon, Sesame, Butter, Green Tea, White Chocolate, Dark Chocolate, Creamy, Curry, Crunchy and Cinnamon.

Peanut Butter Co. is located SM North EDSA near the IMAX theater and the bridge going to the Sky Garden. This is their second branch, the first being at Clark Pampanga. Prices average at Php 180 which is at par with other specialty stores.

When Your Customer is the Government

Imagine the Philippine government transform itself into a single living, breathing member of the human population. It would be the most irrational, most indecisive and ultimately most annoying of all customers in your local supermarket.

With all the frenzy surrounding the national elections on alleged vote-rigging, I wouldn't be surprised if Smartmatic's CEO Cesar Flores is at his wits end trying his very best to please the Filipino people. Heck, I wouldn't be surprised if he would curse us under his breath after a stressful ambush interview. The customer is king after all, and it's usually near impossible for kings to be pleased. Let alone be nice about it.

There is nothing wrong with questioning the results of the automated election as is the case with Jamby Madrigal, Nicanor Perlas and JC delos Reyes. Neither is there anything wrong with a possible whistle-blower coming out into the open. Skepticism, in fact, is often a precursor to truth.

I'm only wondering, with all the accusations thrown to COMELEC, what signals are we trying to give foreign investors with how we run our country? The peso has slightly slipped. Exactly how much economic side effects are we willing to take in the name of skepticism?

Looking for Juan: Everyday Filipino Heroes

Today I thought about ordinary people being heroes. I can't help it, the tarpaulins around the Academic Oval all had this singular theme. From Rizal's youth, to your average manong driver, the artworks illustrate that the idea of heroism can be stretched to include almost everyone.

As a project by the Center for Art, New Ventures and Sustainable Development (CANVAS), the idea is to put up outdoor banners that will send a collective message about everyone's role in free elections this May. The elections, as it is indirectly portrayed in the exhibit, is not about a search for heroes. The banners around the Academic Oval depict ordinary Filipinos -- policemen, parents, students, OFWs -- performing little acts of heroism. A heroism that doesn't anymore include martyrdom at Bagumbayan.

The national election is done as I type this, but these works of art still line the University’s Academic Oval today. At the end of the exhibition, it is said that the banners will be recycled and transformed into tote bags. Once sold, the proceeds will be given to selected charities and will also be used to support other initiatives that promote greater appreciation for Philippine art, culture and the environment.

Even if the grass in the Sunken Garden has turned brown this summer, looking at these banners felt like a breath of fresh air. Yet what I like most about this project is its message. Under the heat of the sun with papers on hand, it tells me that you and I, we can both be heroes.

(Outdoor banners of Everyday Filipino Heroes will be hanged on the light posts of the University of the Philippines Diliman only till May 31.)

Malcolm Hall

I went to get my admission slip from the UP College of Law last Friday. Coming from the Shopping Center, I took a longer route by entering through the front doors of Malcolm Hall. There, I was greeted no less than by the famous adage of Oliver Wendell Holmes. Massive, bold and chiseled to be the focal point of the building's interiors, it's one of those signs that were built to beg attention.

History has proven that this message is larger than itself. The business of a law school is to teach law in the grand manner. Perhaps it was this grand education that propelled the brilliance of many a nation's political figures, from the recent presidential candidates like Sec. Gilbert Teodoro and Senator Richard Gordon to the more rooted names which we memorized from our grade school history books. Names like Ninoy Aquino and Ferdinand Marcos. Whether they used their education for good or evil is another matter altogether but in the next month, I am to receive the same kind of education as them.

This begs the question as to why I will study law in the first place. Am I here to become a human rights activist, a professor, a tax adviser, a partner in a law firm, perhaps, a politician out to spend millions on election campaigns for a position which pays no more than Php 50,000? Blame it on an overdose of optimism, but I am picking the beauty pageant answer: that I am out here to change society, including my own self.

Pretentious as this might sound, I don’t blame you if you think I can’t do it. In a judiciary system as tainted as ours where laws are often played around technicality, who can change society anyway but the rich, the mighty and the powerful?

Even as I type this (pathetic) little declaration of hope, who knows what my future has in store for me? For all I care, I might end up as a power-hungry, money-grabbing technocrat who doesn’t give a damn for the concerns of the masses but prides herself instead with a law degree, gaining both criticism from her peers and acclaim from the petty relative who only has a fetish for titles (Atty. Engr. Dr.)

This is why I leave thinking about my future for tomorrow. I have actually taken up spontaneity as a new hobby. Because while I am thrown in disarray by the profundity of my questions, I still have to think about more practical and more short-term concerns regarding law school. Like getting my admission slip for instance.

If there was one thing I learned while working after graduation, it is that idealism can only get you so far. Knowing exactly what is out there arms you better than slipping off reality, dreaming of utopia.

Last Session: Free UPCAT Review

We had the last Math session for the Free UPCAT Review today. The kids were unusually quiet and partly restless since they had Science before me. I had to cram our discussion because we were running out of time and I was their last lecturer for the day.

I'm actually excited for the kids. I'm hoping that least eight of them will pass the UPCAT. Teaching them has been the only rewarding thing I did for society this summer. For all my mishaps and jumps in solutions, I hope they still learned something from me. I'm not a teacher by profession, but I subscribe to Keith's idea of balancing out the opportunities for the not-so-well-off kids who are smart and maybe even more brilliant than their wealthy counterparts.

So as the Free UPCAT Review ends and the countdown for the real UPCAT begins, I'm keeping my fingers crossed. Good luck kids! I hope to see you around the campus next year. ;)

I Carry Lee Min Ho In My Bag

I'm the type of person who hyperventilates at the sight of smooth, beautiful paper. So when I got this organizer for free, I almost died from pure joy.

The pages are perfectly smooth, and each of them are individually designed with birthday cakes and apple trees and elephants in their undies. Your heart will melt from sheer cuteness. Perhaps I may never get to write on this as I will hate myself if I make a mistake and be forced to use the eraser.

Adorned with the handsome face of Lee Min Ho, I'm pretty sure the die-hard worshipers of Boys Over Flowers will have their mouths salivating at the top most picture of this entry. If you love the big, sweet ruffian that is Gu Jun Pyo and are into bubble-gum-girly stuff, then this is the organizer for you. Sadly, you have to purchase Php 2,000 worth of cosmetics from Etude House to avail this collector's item.

But fear not, dear Lee Min Ho fan girls, Etude House sports quality, not to mention very chic, beauty products. I am personally enjoying their Good Bye Dark Circle Eye Cream, and two bottles of very glittery nail polish. However, if you care not for beauty and want only the god-sent bundle of paper above, just purchase three of those eye creams, donate them to me, and you will finally have your very own very stylish and very cute Lee Min Ho organizer.

Thank you in advance! ^_^

(Etude House is a Korean cosmetics company. It is located at the ground floor of SM Megamall Building A, near Toy Kingdom.)

Vanity

I've always wondered exactly how much of myself should I inject into this blog. Should I post entries only on the places I've been, people I've met and things I've experienced? Or should I make public my thoughts and personal issues as well? This has always been my blogging dilemma.

On the one hand, I do want to share snippets of my life, a few books reviews and social commentaries but on the other hand, while I would want to make this blog a sort of outlet for my angst or melancholy or whatever bad feelings I harbor for the day, I do not want to wear my heart on my sleeve. Though I was told I do that often.

I don't think I can decide on this matter any time soon. I am not prudent. Neither am I without biases. Since I rarely delete any blog posts (none from this one has been purged as we speak), you will read a hodgepodge of both niceties and sourness from me in the future. While I go and ponder whether I should write about personal stuff here, I will leave you with pictures of myself. Not because they are of any great worth, but because today, I just feel totally vain.

Here Comes the Bride

This is the first Filipino movie I've watched since, perhaps, Ang Pagdadalaga ni Maximo Oliveros. I'm not exactly a huge fan of Filipino movies, especially the comedy ones, but last night my friends and I watched Here Comes the Bride. I wasn't sure what to expect, but when we neared the movie house, guess who I met.

Yes guys, John Lapuz is just one of the many celebrated actors and comedians who graced the big screen. Together with Eugene Domingo, Tuesday Vargas, Jaime Fabregas, Tom Rodriguez and the very sultry Angelica Panganiban, Here Comes the Bride is sure to tickle your funny bones while pulling your heartstrings at certain points in the film.

The plot is simple. A twisted road accident causes five very different people to switch bodies before a big wedding. While some of them were first at a loss, some find themselves instantly comfortable with their new selves, and quite possibly, their new lives as well. As the story progressed, the characters attempt to a find a way to return to their old bodies and in the process, look at life from a freshly new perspective.

Not short on big laughs and crack ups, the movie does not fail to entertain. I personally cannot get over the funny bed scenes and the many many kisses between Harold (Tom Rodriguez of Pinoy Big Brother Double Up) and whoever it was that contained his wife's soul. Good thing they weren't torrid or I would have reached my limit and puked!

While the movie can be hilarious, it can also be horrifyingly poignant. Everyone is fueled by desire, after all. What this movie showcases is that whatever it is you want, whether it be to get married or to be young again, to be filthy rich or to change your gender and become a woman, you can have it. Sometimes with a stroke of luck (or a lunar eclipse on a magnetic road); sometimes, only temporarily and sometimes, as it is in real life, at the expense of others.

3 Things That Let You Know You’ve Arrived in SOCCSKSARGEN

I only just came back to Manila yesterday, and already, I miss home. I recall the very first things I saw when I arrived at the place, and I realize how very peculiar they would have been if it were my first time being there.

My parents have always kept a routine every time they pick me and my brother up at the General Santos City airport. First, we drive from Tambler to the city proper, maybe do a little shopping at KCC Mall, then we eat at Durian Farm and when we’re full, we carry on with our hour-long drive home.

After six months in Manila, a long weekend in Marbel felt like an oddly new experience. It was as if I was rediscovering an old familiar place with bright new eyes. Nothing much has changed, yet as my father drove and my mother talked and I stared out the window half-listening, I can’t help but notice three very exceptional things that never failed to remind me of home. You’d find yourself distinctly in SOCCSKSARGEN if you experience these too.

1. Your diet has changed and you’re suddenly eating 500 grams of grilled tuna belly and a slice of durian pie.

General Santos City, together with the Sarangani Province, has been popular for its fresh catch of huge tuna. Tuna restaurants and grilled tuna houses abound the metro selling a variety of dishes out of this locally grown fish for almost half the price as they would have cost in an average Manila restaurant.

Durian is also abundant not just in my hometown Marbel, but in the whole of Region 12 itself. There are people who don’t like this exotic fruit because of its smell, but exactly because of its pungent odor and even more tangy taste, my family has been a huge fan of durian since I was a kid.

A little local tip: Durian’s peak season is from September to November. Tuna, on the other hand, is available all year round. Better to be an early riser so you can head to the docks of the General Santos Fish Port at dawn. Live and freshly caught tuna can be grilled and served up your plate by the local fishermen themselves.

2. You’re driving on a stretch surrounded by a sea of pineapples.

Unbeknownst to many, South Cotabato is home to packaged fruit juice giant Dole Philippines. Its processed fruit mixes, canned juices and concentrated chunks of peaches and pineapples can be found at supermarkets in the Philippines and abroad.

Whenever my father drives home from GenSan or vice versa, we never fail to pass by Polomolok, a small town which takes pride in its hectares upon hectares of pure pineapple. The spiky little things stretch from both sides of the highway up until the foot of Mt. Matutum and other nearby mountains.

3. Manny Pacquiao is everywhere!

From business advertisements to his more recent campaign posters, Manny Pacquiao’s face is literally plastered all over General Santos City.

Just as he uses his endorsement for his own PacMan Convenience Store and PacMan H2O Water Refilling Station, multi-national corporations also use him for their own brands. Just look at his collectible Nike t-shirt or the many, many Pacquiao trinkets available at the Team Pacquiao Store in Robinsons Galleria GenSan.

Even his house in GenSan has become a tourist attraction. Fans and foreign holidaymakers alike take their pictures at his front gate!

(SOCCSKSARGEN is an abbreviation for South Cotabato, Cotabato, Sultan Kudarat, Sarangani Province and General Santos City.)

Is the Filipino Really Worth Dying For?

Standing in the middle of NAIA Terminal 3, I always pause and pay a little tribute to this statue of late Ninoy Aquino. He is both my hero and personal benchmark for servant leadership. So when my brother and I arrived at the airport this morning, I looked at it and for the first time, my heart felt a sickening sadness.

I thought the Filipinos wanted change. With all hope and possitivity, I fully believed we deserved better leaders, sustainable development and democracy. It breaks my heart to be proven otherwise.

Re-electionists lead the top six in the senatoriable race. Ousted President and known jueteng protector Joseph Estrada is ranked second among the Presidentiables. And Noynoy Aquino, no less than my hero's own son, is off to bag the Presidency. It pierces me to the bones knowing fully well that in all 12 years that Noynoy has been a senator, he hasn't passed a single bill into law. He hasn't occupied any executive position prior to being a senator. He hasn't even distributed the land many farmers have shed their blood for in the Hacienda Luisita massacre.

And he is going to be my President in the next 6 years. Perchance to dream of a well-deserved democracy. :c

I Voted, Have You?

In all fairness, I'm quite satisfied with how the elections started in my hometown this morning. I was the thirteenth voter in the precinct and although the elementary school teachers still needed lessons on proper queuing, I was glad to see the PCOS machine read my ballot and tell me that my vote was successful.

I'm not sure if it will count the votes right this time, but I'm optimistic. There hasn't been any power outages since Saturday. The townsfolk have been patiently waiting for their turn and I'm happy to see teenagers, kids younger than me, excited to participate in the elections and indirectly shape the future of our country.

There's nothing like fresh idealism to perk up my morning. :)

The infamous PCOS machine itself

Voters searching for their names and numbers.

To the One Who will Never Bother to Read This

Look, I know you're trying your best to press delete my name in your heart. I'm not going to convince you to do otherwise. I just want to let you know that I have come home and that I know you're taking a break from med school. I would like to see you, even if it means seeing you as the one for the last time.

I hope you can forgive me. Not so much for the things I did to you, but for those that I did not do. I'm typing it here as I may never get to say it in person. Because even if we meet and talk, I will only mumble incoherent nothings, for I am and will forever be speechless in your presence.

Call me. Or don't. I will probably regret this blog post in the morning.

On Pinoy Politics, IT Audit and Internal Control

Is it just me or does anyone else find the anomalies in the PCOS machines downright suspicious?

Last Monday, several precinct count optical scan (PCOS) units failed to count votes accurately which forced Smartmatic, the government's contractor for the automated elections, to recall all compact flash cards and to halt scheduled delivery to Davao City and other provinces.

A news article in Manila Bulletin cited that the camp of mayoral candidate Lito Atienza noted that PCOS machines failed to read votes for the position of mayor in at least 80 percent of the tests. In Taguig, congressional candidate Angelito “Jett” Reyes claimed PCOS machines failed to read his votes and in Pateros, incumbent Pateros Mayor Joey Medina reported that half of the PCOS machines tested for the whole town printed incorrect results.

Smartmatic claims the glitches were caused by human error and dispels rumors that it was part and parcel of a plan to sabotage our national elections. To me, it's either the company's programmer is stupid or the glitches were indeed intentional. Even my brother, who majored in Computer Science, told me any ComSci freshman could have prevented errors as gross as those. I doubt that such a high-profile multinational company will hire an idiot, but what is unclear to me is why such irregularities were publicly committed on certain test-runs.

After the incident, The Commission on Elections (COMELEC) have recalled memory cards sent to 76, 300 precincts all over the archipelago and have allied with private corporations to deliver the replacement cards back to said precincts. Could it be that the original cards were properly configured and that the COMELEC or whoever it is behind the conspiracy(?) needed a valid excuse to allow them to recall the cards and replace them with cheated ones? Of course, this is just me overthinking things.

I am not a programmer or a systems analyst like my brother, but five years in accounting taught me that there is what we call an information technology audit. Similar to the financial statement audit which is what most of my classmates do in SGV, IT audit is a form of attestation engagement the main purpose of which is to evaluate a system's internal control design and effectiveness.

Tell me, has anyone audited the PCOS machines to be used on Monday? Anyone with an ISACA certification at all?

With news about the PCOS machines going hay-wire, I understand why Joseph Estrada urges the COMELEC to reconsider its position on parallel manual counting. In both automated count and manual count, the numbers should balance, so to speak. But with a history on dagdag-bawas, I think this form of internal control will never achieve its objective and will only add fire to the people's suspicion on vote-rigging.

I empathize with Bro. Eddie Villanueva when he called for a one-week poll postponement so that the COMELEC can address the PCOS anomalies. But not unless Bagyong Ondoy comes back to haunt us on Monday, I don't think the national elections will be delayed for any purpose other than force majeure.

Although I would have wanted a thorough IT audit to be done and made public, there just isn't any time for that. The national elections will push through. Yet for whatever technological excuse -- from glitches in the PCOS machines to a possible power outage in Mindanao -- if a failure of automation ensues, what difference will there be between that and a failure of election in the eyes of Filipinos who have grown jaded and suspicious after many years of poverty and corruption? After all, in a democratic country such as ours, the results of whichever election is just as good as the reliability of the electoral process itself.

Emmeline Pankhurst

I was googling some old articles regarding the suffrage of women when I stumbled upon this picture of Emmeline Pankhurst. The description says she's being arrested after leading a protest to parliament, armed with a rolled resolution for women's suffrage and a few lilies of the valley. What struck me in the photo was the pride on her face. Such fierceness and defiance.

Similar to Pankhurst's British suffrage movement, women in the Philippines have only been granted the right to vote on 1937, thirty years after the first election law was passed and forty years after Emilio Aguinaldo was elected President at the Tejeros Convention.

I salute all the nameless Filipinas who fought for my own suffrage. And like Emmeline Pankhurst, I hope I will look as proud and defiant when I cast my vote on Monday morning.

Eat-All-You-Can

I was feeling a bit down yesterday so I invited my friends to a dinner buffet at Crustasia. I wasn't craving for any food in particular, but I was eager to eat whatever they'll serve up my plate. I mean, what better way to get rid of the blues than by swallowing it whole, right?

Good thing I was with Pearl and RJay. I wouldn't have to observe proper dining etiquette when I'm with them. The food looked so temptingly sumptuous. And so, the three of us attacked the buffet, eating crabs with our hands, squirting gelatins into our mouths and swallowing half-chewed siomai. We ate till our stomachs stretched and till eating itself became sickening. If John Mark was there, he would have called us patay gutom, for that was exactly what we were.

We stayed like that from 7:30 till almost 10:00 in the evening. We left only because it was nearly closing time but we could have still gone through another round. When I got home, I only checked my Facebook for a few minutes and then went straight to bed. The glutton that I was.

Not surprisingly, today I woke up and found myself still full, which is a first. I looked at the mirror and I could have sworn my tummy grew a few centimeters larger but what I saw next was THE nightmare. Tiny red blotchy rashes have discolored their way to my skin, making my left arm look like a really long tomato. They were itchy and horrible-looking! And they were on my face too! Stupid allergies!

I'm not gonna continue with this blog post anymore as it will only get nasty. I was so pissed! Seafood never caused me rashes before. Now that it did, I'm petrified of pigging out. Blame it on the crabs.

Cat Soup

I was intrigued by the anime Cat Soup. The little cats looked like cousins of Hello Kitty that I thought the movie would only be about cute, stupid kittens out on their nightly meowing rampage. Turns out I was dead wrong.

Cat Soup (image source: dvdnear.com/images)

Cat Soup is an abstract short film that serves both as a mind twister and a visual feast, in a weird cartoon kind of way. It is a simple story about a cat who embarks on a quest to recover his sister's soul which ripped apart when he was fighting Death in an attempt to save her. With no need for words, the film takes you along our feline hero's bloody journey.

The unifying theme in the movie -- if there was any theme at all -- is life and death. To be specific, the shortness of life, the abruptness of death and the struggle to survive in between. Filled with maniacally inventive concepts and allusions to popular religious and cultural ideas like Noah's Ark and Hansel and Gretel, the movie is unforgiving and beautiful and cruel all at once. True to its description, Cat Soup is indeed more of a work of art than an anime. And I sure enjoyed watching it.

You might want to see it yourself.

Booked

Unless you’re Neil Gaiman and I’m absolutely in love with your fiction, I don’t exactly buy freshly published books. I prefer second-hand’s with pages already caressed by the fingers of wary readers. Besides the considerably lower prices, the thought of them being read before prevents my need for book reviews, thus shrinking the chance for unwanted spoilers.

Since I’m going to Marbel on Saturday, I thought, what better time to catch up on reading. So today I decided to visit a few good bookstores and stock up on books. Which second-hand’s should I buy?

I first went to the old Book Sale in Cubao, the nearest bookstore from where I live. The selection ranged from Karl Marx’s The Communist Manifesto to the more down-to-earth Stamp Collecting for Dummies. It's funny how none of the books there interested me today.

So I decided to go to Padre Faura and ditch my old perspective on buying freshly published books. Anyway, the ones I had in mind are authored by who else but my favorite essayist F. Sionil Jose.

Since everything in Manila is now 33 degrees Celsius or hotter, I took a cab to Faura. It's fascinating how you see the landscape change from the post-modern Gateway to the old Quiapo church and how everything in between tries to blend in, sometimes awkwardly but that's just Philippine urban planning to you.

Sure, I could have bought the books of the Rosales Saga from National Bookstore, but I've always wanted to buy them at the author's publishing house itself. I even hoped to bump into Sir Jose this afternoon but I wasn't that lucky.

Location: 531 Padre Faura, Ermita, Manila

Obscure and solitary, the Solidaridad Bookstore stood at the corner of Padre Faura and Adriatico streets just a few steps away from Robinson's Galleria. The taxi driver missed it as he was busy running 531, the shop's number, in his head. I had to walk two blocks back to get there.

The books in Solidaridad weren't cheap, but they weren't as costly as they would have been in a local Powerbooks. J. Baldwin's A Fire Next Time. God, I wish I had bought that but I came here for Sionil Jose's original works, and I only had money for second-hand's.

So I bought Tree, a book out of the Rosales Saga. I have just stopped on page 20 so I could blog about it here. Contrary to popular opinion, the book is not hard to read at all. It even makes me wonder why we weren't required to read it back in high school. I only discovered Sionil Jose when I started reading his essays on nationalism during college. Had I not done that, he would have fallen to the category of great men whose names I've only memorized but never really knew.

I also bought Gagamba, The Spider Man. No, it's not the Pinoy version of Peter Parker swinging his way to walls and fighting mutated villains. Gagamba is a cripple who sells sweepstakes tickets at the entrance of an Ermita restaurant. I haven't started on this book yet, but knowing F. Sionil Jose, I presume this work will be another form of social commentary questioning the meaning of life and the role of the ever-evolving Philippine society.

That being said, for the next couple of days, expect me to be even less sociable as I will uncompromisingly and unflinchingly be "booked".

Leave it to F. Sionil Jose to post a sign as moral as this on the window of his bookstore.

Free UPCAT Review

I was worried I would be fetched by an old priest and be forced to talk about my views on religion during our ride to where I was supposed to teach today. To my surprise, I met a fratman instead.

Keith Panganiban, a member of Alpha Phi Beta fraternity, looked like a boy my age and resembled nothing of the priest I had imagined. He took Political Science in UP Diliman and like me, he is also an incoming law student this June. The free UPCAT review is his brainchild and it amazes me how this one person established something I have always wanted to do but never had enough resolve to actually do it.

The kids at Camarin were boisterous, but in a good way. They reminded me of how I was in high school. Perhaps I was too lenient with them, but I never believed in stifling the voice of kids. Experience tells me that the noisy ones are usually the smart ones. So I had this noisy boy in the front row explain the solution to a factorial problem to his classmates and guess what, his answer was correct.

The view is different when you're behind the teacher's table. You see everything and everyone. The mini discussions when you turn and write on the chalkboard. The averted eyes of those who don't want to recite. The students who really answer the quizzes. Those who don't. And the blank stares when you utter gibberish like measures of central location. This must be why my mother loved teaching. It gives you a little taste of omnipotence. Hahahaha

So while I indulge on the thought of being an all-powerful teacher, here are some pictures from today's activity.

Gah! I seriously need to get my hair done.