The Illiterate (And Literate) Mango

My dad and I last Tuesday, March 11, decided to go on a road trip to visit a small piece of land in Taytay, Rizal. I was quite hesitant at first knowing that with my dad my back will surely break driving the whole day. He is the type that would get any person to circumnavigate the entire Philippines, if possible, in a day, armed with a historical for every road turn here in my mango. Actually I really think of it as his mango more than mine. He will always tell me “You can’t imagine how much this has changed over the years Gimo” as he would look at all the small housing and business establishments marked by little internet café’s on the road to Taytay. He continued that everything were just blades of grass, crops, and trees before and that now it’s just plain ugly, save for antipolo and the towns surrounding it like angono which still maintain much of it’s rustic beauty complimented by the new villages being developed around it. He also meant that the people seemed to have changed in a way due to the Americanization of the Philippines since the first Republic (Yes, our conversations do go that far everytime! Sometimes I wonder if he was born in the right century). Like they’ve lost more of their natural common sense now more than ever by dyeing their hair blond simultaneously trying to look like black rappers from South central. Our topics seemed to simultaneously shift with each passing turn of the road. There were moments of silence too on the way so I decided to turn on my car stereo. My dad hated my western music and as I was about to pop in one of my latin jazz CD’s to quell the matter I remembered that at 10 am that day there was supposed to be a senate hearing on my mango. I figured that AM radio would cover it so I went to look for 666 on my AM band frequency. 666 Is my favorite AM frequency as this is DZRH, the most listened to radio station in the country. I normally like to listen to FM but as I got older I would tune in to AM to change my boring driving world a bit (yes it’s either I’m getting more “bakya” or I really have no one to talk too). But local news of course is nothing to be taken seriously unless my mango grew balls overnight and decided to be like the Zapatista revolution or Chavez, which is, really, highly unlikely with the current national character!..But who knows? Just waiting for that day.
Anyway, as we rode through the comfort of our small little vehicle we were surprised when DZRH suddenly played an excerpt interview question of a Binibining Pilipinas candidate answering in carabao english. And, good grief , it wasn’t even near carabao english! In fact it wasn’t english at all! I was waiting for what my dad was going to say about it as it so timely hit our topic of language being a hindrance to discovering our national identity as a mango. And all my dad said was “Bein hecho, Bravo!” (Well done, Bravo!). My Dad listened first to the commentary of Deo Macalma, the announcer who played the audio excerpt and ridiculed the highlighted candidate, Janina San Miguel. Then agreed that it was really a shame. But only a shame to the Filipinos who so bravely adopted English from the Americans to so make it our national language up to this day. I went to youtube after hearing all this from AM and saw Ruffa Gutierrez (a former Miss world runner up back in 1993) commenting on Miss San Miguel’s proud and embarrassing answer (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tEycjHCQFXc). I couldn’t help but check Ruffa’s quip on the subject as she seemed to just blurt it out that 98% of Filipinos could speak English. With doubt, I did some digging and ended up double-checking with my dad. What I found out was that roughly only 35,000 Filipinos actually live and breathe english as their language from birth coming from a population of 88 million! This is less than 1/10 tenth of 1 percent!! I knew Ruffa’s answer was an arrogant contrarist “blurt” so to speak but I never imagined the figures to be this low! I was so surprised because what got stuck in my head was the 1983 Marcos census of Filipino literacy, which was pegged at 86%. Meaning that 86% of Filipinos can actually read and speak english in Marcos time. This statistic left an image of an igorot in a “bahag” reading people’s tonight in my head beside the rice terraces. I was so proud of this statistic being the only counry in Asia to have such a high literacy rate even when compared to Singapore! But, apparently this was only true in Marcos time and LASTLY at that time!hehehe... And now, all of a sudden it felt tremulous to know that not even 1% can actually be known to read,write, or much less speak english as their primary language as their constitution declares it so! Thus a Janina San Miguel…
I say abolish the idiotic constitution that says so. Please do it for the sake of Janina San Miguel! Come to think of it Tagalog hasn’t even be ratified as a national language! No wonder we’re so screwed up. I even double-backed on my dad about the statistics. We dug out the article from a mountain of newspapers he read it from (that’s why our house is being eaten by termites). Accordingly, in 2007, only 7% percent of Filipinos use English as a second language. Meaning they don’t use it at home but they use it in offices, the courts, and businesses. Here, they actually read, speak, and write English but still doesn’t necessarily mean that it is there language of choice upon setting out of the office after 5 pm.
With all these statistics in mind I began to understand my father why, for all these years since 1986, hated the Cory and her Constitution so much for abolishing Spanish and now was so happy that English failed as a language in this country. He had reason. I mean, if we follow simple logic, our heroes, notably Rizal and the Illustrados wrote everything for our revolution in tooth and nail with Spanish. Then here comes an idiotic housewife that pretends that she doesn’t even know who killed her husband and abolishes it and institutes Arabic, and Chinese. Our heroes did not even speak these languages! More so English!
And where is tagalog in all this? Apparently, the host of the Binibining Pilipinas pageant, Paolo Bediones, was already signaling to the famous Ms. San Miguel to use tagalog if she had a hard time with English. But noooooo! She had to go for english. Why? Is she ashamed of tagalog? Yes, of course she is...Also she could have sounded much better in tagalog. But still, And still…
Lets analyze “And still..” Why did her psyche insist on English and ultimately cause her this traumatic embarrassment. Answer: Because we are brainwashed! It’s worse than the CIA or the NSA planting a bug in your head just like in Denzel Washington’s movie: The Manchurian Candidate. This is a result of a hundred years of brainwashing since the Filipino-American war where 1/3 to 1/6 of our population was erased along with the Spanish speaking population. Count in the bombing of Intramuros and manila in 1944 to 1945 by the gringos which killed ¾ of the Spanish speaking population there and barely any of the Japanese which was proven in the block-by-block fighting that followed soon after. That’s what they’re good at Carpet Bombing everything. Anything and everything they do not understand and that does not belong to them. Like hollywood does to your psyche too. As a result we have again: Janina San Miguel. No spanish, no tagalog, and no english! Very sad for a country that used to advertise all three as their principal languages. I include the loss of spanish as significant because it leads to the loss of english, another foriegn language much farther from the filipino psyche as evidenced by Janina. Who does not even understand Hollywood movies probably. And while our so very brave politicians are fighting over the measly scraps before they are all handed of to the IMF/World bank in this Lozada fiasco we still remain an invisible colony of the USA with no language, no identity. Just the way they want it.

“Ang hindi marunong magmahal sa sariling wika ay higit pa sa hayop at malansang Isda”

I always thought of him as a prophet.

LG KU250 Headset

One problem with the LG KU250 cellphone offered by Smart and Globe Telecoms in the Philippines is the lack of available accessories and support for the unit. I have this phone unit now since October, 2007; and at last, only recently did I find a cheap headset. It is sold for a mere P150 each. I bought two! hehehe.


Actually for several months now, LG in Pasig City has been selling headsets for the KU250 for a whopping P1,300.

For my fellow LG cellphone users, I'll tell you where to get the coveted headsets. By the way, the sound quality from the headset's speakers are great.

First, go to Plaza Miranda in front of Quiapo Church of the Nazarene. There, you'll see a mall called Manila City Plaza. Go up the second floor using the escalator and then turn right. Count two alleys and go to the second alley and find the second stall to your right. Eureka! You're there! (See photo)

Now, my next problem is to have it open-lined or unlocked. There are rumors that say there is a stall that can do it at Monumento in Caloocan City near National Bookstore. I'll just have to try my luck there someday.

But I hope somebody would figure out the NCK codes of the KU250 instead so I could just input the unlock code myself. I tried two different NCK calculator/generator versions already and no cigar.

Mango Republic in Action

In this first article about the said mango I would just simply say “There you have it folks. Your tasty mango!”
About a week ago, I went to fix my aunt’s computer in alabang. She was a bit peeved as I was already there on a Saturday and now she had to spend again as I had to come back on the following Tuesday because she could not burn her favorite music as the new DVD combo player I installed didn’t want to eject her newly burned CD’s with the computer hanging and all. Thanks to my experience (the only thing I could ever be arrogant or boastful about so give me a chance to say it), I quickly diagnosed the problem as, what I couldn’t believe myself to be, the new DVD combo player by LG (a brand I trust, even after this) holding up the whole system. So I whisked by PC Express in zapote. They tested it and at first did not agree with my diagnosis. But I asked them to test it again with a media player installed on their OS and then they agreed that the bios was wasting a lot of time in its detection. Thus a brand new broken LG. (I will discuss more on my computer experiences outside “My Mango”).
After my PC maintenance job, since I was family, I was treated to a delightful lunch with my dad’s first cousins and their mom and some friends. We had the normal family conversation over table discussing “what happened to tito?... or tita?, Where is Tito?...What happened that time tita? How were those days?...etc..etc.” And believe me when I touched the topic of yesteryears Comparisons in my mango began to fly!
I began to respect the fact that I was seated with people on a lunch table who have seen a lot. Being the youngest in a table with an age range of 64 to 90 I could only listen more than I could speak. And I think I rattled the mango tree too much when I, again for over 50 times, had to listen to, and just had to stir a can of worms about the Lozada thingy. Me and my big mouth! Now I had to shut up and take it all in! My aunts and uncles began to rant of course all the more how much worse the situation of the country is today filled with crooks in high places and how, in comparison, their parents had to work so hard and never succumb to the temptation of corruption and they tell me: “Gimo, We are old and don’t have much to go for anymore but you are young and you have kids. You better start thinking how to get your kids out of this place before it’s too late. There is totally no future here for you Gimo!”
This piece of advice rang and rang in my head! I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t want to leave this mango bearing island where I could still uphold my pride and call myself a first class citizen. Well at least, I for one didn’t want to leave! But thinking further, I also didn’t also want to be selfish in the case for my kids. I could always mold them to set their sights for another country outside ours with the exception of the United States since it’s congress just passed a bill last year empowering law enforcement to further implement “probable cause” when it comes to people who look like immigrants. Meaning starting January 1, 2008, in selected states, if anybody so much as looks latino or “illegal” to an effect, will be questioned by even local law enforcement. Not just officers from the immigration bureau (INS). Imagine how racist this is going to be for foreign looking folks in the states. Brazilians and Mexicans have commented that if it’s going to be this way they might as well voluntary deport themselves rather than face these new laws. I read these statements on a new years day in an International Herald Tribune article cut out for me by my mom. She was trying to tell me that setting sights in going to the United States to solve my economic despair or to chase the dream of quick bucks abroad ain’t the answer. I checked and it is no joke if you were to look at the latest laws. And of course there is also Immigration Reduction .
Of course, I was just looking at the United States in this matter. Why? Because I’ve been there and I even got to work there and it wasn’t half bad. I didn’t feel any untoward racism either, maybe it’s because I look like a regular gringo only that my height was a dead give-away, hehehehe. I wasn’t looking at the other countries though initially. Nevertheless abandonment of life here seemed to hurt. It wasn’t happening yet but it already hurt. I wouldn’t be able to hear the Philippine Madrigal Singers anymore. I wouldn’t have a maid or my dad’s houseboy to help my household or to entertain us with their aimlessness and idiocies. I’ll miss seeing somebody washing clothes in the middle of a highway with a washing machine (When I say middle, I mean middle! As in center island!)or dodging them fools crossing the same in the middle of the night after watching them climb a ten foot fence blocking them on doing so. I’ll miss somebody asking me ALWAYS “Pilipino ka ba?” (Are You a Filipino?) and then I would answer in a fake angry tone with my perfect tagalog “OO! Filipino ako! Ako nakahanap nang isla mo diba! Bakit?” (Yes I’m Filipino!I found your island remember! Why?) He or she would immediately start laughing and will immediately be my friend and say “Sorry ha! Akala ko kano ka eh! Halika Kain!”. (I’m sorry! I thought you were American. C’mon lets eat!).
I mean who won’t miss a people, with all it’s defects and anomalies, that will befriend you and offer you to come and join him or her to eat with them right away after? I don’t think there is no other in the world! Generally this mango is tender and sweet. Of course there will always be a mango that can poison you after inviting you temptingly, but I’m talking general here and it ain’t that way with the majority in my experience. Even the robbers, plotters and thieves here have a heart! To look closer at my mango, just take notice of the mangoes trying to accost you on the road when you drive in Makati City. If you are nice with them you can give them their lunch, be their friend and go your way, if you’re not you can still give them your lunch and go your way! That’s all their after anyway: Lunch money! They’re hungry for Pete sakes! It’s just irritating, I know, because you can see them taking advantage of traffic anomalies at your expense. Instead of teaching you or assisting you they’re making a fast buck at your time and patience or sometimes, ignorance. But the problem here is that, they themselves are ignorant and have not much to live with! So I have always decided to rise above their plight and understand it. When I don’t say anything and just listen and give them their chance to be all-knowing they begin to explain why they did that. They are actually explaining why they are catching you! Did I ask for an explanation here??!! No. This is why I say my mango is still the sweetest mango in the world. The mango is actually telling you why he did it and that he is actually giving you a chance (you don’t need to believe him just look at his facial expressions and how he needs a bath soon). He is not even saying that you are wrong! He just can’t tell you outright that he needs to do it so he can eat in McDonald’s or Jollibee like you can with your kids. The mango begins to look like daffy duck to me and I just imagine I’m bugs bunny. And believe me it’s hard to listen to all this because my temper gets in the way. It’s good they look like mangoes in my mango republic. And everything in my mango is easy to view as comic relief. Nothing should be taken seriously, it should all just be eaten. Sweet and salty as it is.
In retrospect these are just some of the factors for me why it begins to hurt in the thought of leaving this fantasyland of sorts. I’m still procrastinating actually and I need to relate to you more what is affecting me. All of these mango qualities were already here since the American Invasion that aborted the First Philippine republic of 1898. Here I stop and will begin eating another mango as soon as I take a crap.

From Bananas to Mangoes

I recently did a little research trying to find out what indeed is our national fruit. Always thinking that it was the banana, since it is so fun to use to comically gesture my native land, I was apparently mistaken. Shame on me that I never knew it was the mango. The Philippine carabao mango is known to be the tastiest in the world and it is our national fruit. It is sold in America as “Philippine manggoes” but apparently they are grown in mexico. It comprises about 3.5% of the world production on mangoes (http://www.philippineherbalmedicine.org/mango.htm.).
Our mangoes are indeed tasty and though all my writings are associated with the banana when I refer to the state of Filipino consciousness (the banana has a twisty, funny, half moon shape which may symbolize a directionless path to my mind), I now believe I must switch to the mango since it is a fruit that grows in all tropical seasons and has the ability to change color from green to yellow and to a slight yellow orange especially when it’s about to expire. This ability, I must mention, correctly adapts itself to the people who have nationalized it as their fruit and will, I’m afraid, forever exhibit the same characteristics of “color change” when it comes to discussions on political ethics, leadership, national morality, etc. etc. as accurately exhibited in concerned topics we hear off now regarding our leaders (and don’t forget: the followers just the same).
So now, I formally declare this my mango republic, though I will miss the banana, it is still there in spirit. A country ran by mangoes not for the tree more so it’s roots!

When Life is Hard and Unfair

Once upon a time, in a province far away there lived a little boy who was born to a poor family—so poor they were poorer than a rat. His father and mother had nothing to their name except for a rundown shack with nothing in it which they inherited from a distant relative; how they ended up living there is unknown.

As they lived in the barrio a couple of kilometers away from the poblacion and accessible only by means of a dirt road, they had to make do with the small plot where they planted vegetables for their daily fare. Rice was oftentimes scarce since the isolated nature of their simple abode made it hard to make trips back and forth, and besides, they had no money to buy it.

The only consolation was a relatively peaceful existence eating vegetables and the water which ran from the little stream nearby served as their supply of “mineral water.” The river that ran next to their hut whereupon became swollen during the rainy months, time and again pitted them against nature’s fury and threatened their lives was their “washing machine.” Well, at least for what clothing they had. In short, life was hard.

When the boy turned seven years old, the couple decided to send him to the barrio public school a kilometer away. The mother accompanied the boy everyday—even staying with the boy—to school as the trail entailed unsafe obstacles of thick foliage of trees no one knows what roamed.

Showing much interest in learning everything, he excelled in school. He read books every night—of fairy tales and legends of a world beyond his young imagination—this amused him a lot. Soon, the time arrived for the boy to go to high school, and he asked that he attend the national high school in the town proper. It was another sacrifice for him for it was farther than the usual trips he made during his elementary days.

He decided—with the approval of his parents—that he would find work in town while going to school so as to augment his needs like clothes and shoes. It was also just fortunate he found work as a helper in a small restaurant owned by a Chinese proprietor named Enga. At “Enga’s,” it took the young man’s hard-working nature to gain the nod of his employer, in which he was awarded by being handed take-home chow. His daily routing thus, was to spend morning ‘till mid-afternoon in school with books and lessons, while the rest of the day until late in the evening he toiled at work, and finally burning the midnight oil back in their modest cottage. Spare time between that were spent walking back home, retiring to his cot and hurrying to school at dawn’s early light.

With work, he was able to buy some things he needed, and such things his aging parents never had the luxury of having like coffee and rice. The rest he was able to save. At the end of his secondary school he was top of the class.

When it was time for college, Enga offered to pay for everything he may have to spend in the city while in college. He was accepted in the state university in the big city as a scholar and excelling in everything the institution taught him. He took up Law some years later and graduated again with the highest honors. Soon, it was inevitable that the once deprived boy reap the benefits of hard work. Though he didn’t top the bar examinations, it was enough for the young man to finally steer his life for the better.

He was hired by a prominent law firm and his stint there made him a lot of money. With this, he made it a point of finally easing the burdens of both his and his parents. The suffering was at last gone.

He never married at this point, hence the bone of contention among his colleagues whether he was gay or not. However, he never made mention of anything as with regards to his gender issues, which he thought was a waste of time. Anyway he would all prove them wrong in the future when he married one of the paralegals working in another firm who caught his eye once in a party of this lawmaker at some posh village.

Many years later, he made a hard decision of coming back to the province to set up an office in the small town where he once worked as a busboy. Actually, the office was beside the Enga Restaurant where he used to labor his way out of poverty, although at this time Enga was already dead—he died years ago of heart attack while the young barrister was on vacation in the Cayman Islands. But of more importance was that of offering help to town mates.

Whatever the past gave him, he gave back. And so he offered legal help to his town mates who often had to pay in kind as a substitute to monetary exchange. It didn’t bother him at all; it only gave him a chance to help people who needed help most.

Now as a small-town practicing lawyer though, he wasn’t really enthusiastic with people’s legal problems, rather, he considered it as “missionary work.” Well, it was a small town and the only trouble they had were mere stealing-the-farm-guy’s-chicken to the local-peeping-tom’s-insatiable-lust-for-the-farmer’s-daughter sort of thing.

With that kind of arrangement, the lawyer soon decided in how to use his talents more—than with petty misdemeanors while being prodded by townspeople to be the one to lead them. But to him everything was all premature, and thoughts of dipping his finger in the political barbecue sauce were farthest from his mind. So, instead of focusing in politics—which the people had clamored—he set his thoughts in building and improving the national high school for which its library made him read books—which introduced him to a window to the world beyond his 5th-class town.

It was a long and hard task for a private citizen to help make improvements and change. But it was a welcome sight; donations here and there, improvement work for the whole plaza complex near the church, police precinct (#6), and even the local hangout Enga’s was changed—which prompted protests from local supporters of the World Heritage Site organization of the UN. The project that was most dear to him was the new library wing of the national high school that was just across the new public market (which he gave a huge donation for the restoration of its “Spanish Look”).

Many times, especially before the sun sets, he treks to the place where he once shared the “simple life” with his dear mama and papa—that humble hut that was mute witness to their lives of misery and pain, of simple joys and happy childhood memories of loving parents, the mineral spring, the river below—such a Shangri-La for extremely poor folks reminiscent of the Tasadays.

It was then while election was a year ahead and tensions were brewing with rumors of him running against a member of a prominent political clan who've been in power for generations only the friars can remember when they began control of the town—the town of Thousand Bananas; pop: 1,674.05.

(To be continued)

The Problem of Hell

I was at my college bud's place last night and, as usual, we talked about religion. One topic that made things more interesting though was of hell, and how my old friend spoke of it at length like a Biblical scholar. Anyway, it was merely (the hell topic) the tip of the iceberg (we talked for 3 hours), and the article below is sort of just a general understanding about hell which I copy-pasted from Wikipedia just now.

The problem of Hell is a variant of the problem of evil, applying specifically to religions which hold both that:

An omnipotent (all-powerful), omniscient (all-knowing), and omnibenevolent (all-loving) God exists.

Some people will be penalized by God with everlasting punishment.

THE PROBLEM

The problem consists in reconciling the assumed attributes of God, particularly omnibenevolence, with the existence of a place of eternal torment. The existence of hell might be considered incompatible with justice or divine mercy.

There are several major issues to the problem of hell. The first is whether the existence of hell is compatible with justice. The second is whether it is compatible with God's mercy, especially as articulated in Christianity. A third issue, particular to Christianity, is whether hell is actually populated, or if God will ultimately "restore all things" (apokatastasis) at the end of the world.

Criticisms of the doctrine of hell can focus on the intensity or eternity of its torments, and arguments surrounding all these issues can invoke appeals to the omnipotence, omniscience and omnibenevolence of God.

In the Abrahamic religions, Hell has traditionally been regarded as a punishment for wrong-doing or sin in this life, as a manifestation of divine justice. Nonetheless, the extreme severity or infinite duration of the punishment might be seen as incompatible with justice. However, Hell is not seen as strictly a matter of retributive justice even by the more traditionalist churches. For example, the Eastern Orthodox see it as a condition brought about by, and the natural consequence of, free rejection of God's love.

The Roman Catholic Church teaches that hell is a place of punishment brought about by a person's self exclusion from communion with God.

In some ancient Eastern Orthodox traditions, Hell and Heaven are distinguished not spatially, but by the relation of a person to God's love.

I also maintain that those who are punished in Gehenna, are scourged by the scourge of love. Nay, what is so bitter and vehement as the torment of love?...It would be improper for a man to think that sinners in Gehenna are deprived of the love of God...it torments sinners...Thus I say that this is the torment of Gehenna: bitter regret. —St. Isaac of Syria, Ascetical Homilies
Martin Luther expressed his solution for the problem as:

1. God is infinitely holy

2. Any transgressions against God are transgressions against His holiness

3. Any such transgressions against infinite holiness require infinite punishments

Issue of justice

Some opponents of the doctrine of hell claim that the punishment is disproportionate to any crimes that could be committed, an overkill. Humans apparently can commit only a finite amount of sin, yet hell is an infinite punishment.

In this vein, Jorge Luis Borges suggests in his essay La duración del Infierno that no transgression can warrant an infinite punishment on the grounds that there is no such thing as an "infinite transgression".

Against the alleged injustice of Hell, some theists, particularly in the Thomistic tradition, have argued that God's infinite dignity requires that any transgression against him warrants an infinite punishment. On this view, the correct punishment for a crime is proportional to the status of the wronged individual. Opponents of this view reply that the correct punishment is also proportional to the intentions and understanding of the wrongdoer.

The eternity of Hell has also been justified in the Scholastic tradition by appeal to the irrevocability of the reprobate's decision to oppose God after death. Eternity is perceived not as an infinite stretch of time, but as an unchanging present. Proportionate justice is administered through the intensity of this eternal punishment, which varies according to the sinner.

Another argument against the justice of Hell is that humans are not culpable for their sins, since sinning is unavoidable to them. For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God; (Epistle to the Romans, 3:23) Most Christians attribute this inclination to sin to some variant of the doctrine of original sin, rather than to God directly. This aspect of the problem of hell reduces in part to the theistic problem of free will. The monotheistic religions, even those that lack a doctrine of original sin, agree that sin is to be imputed to the sinner and not to God.

Some theological schools, most notably the Scotists and Calvinists, have taken the position that divine justice is entirely a matter of God's positive law, not deducible by natural reason. Thus, whatever God does is just by definition, and if this contradicts our human intuitions of justice, then our intuitions are mistaken. This view is opposed by Thomists and others who espouse a natural law view of morality, or consider that divine goodness ought to be congruent with human virtue and rationality.

Issue of divine mercy

Even if it were admitted that eternal punishment were merited as a matter of strict justice, there would remain the problem of harmonizing the existence of Hell with God's infinite mercy or omnibenevolence.

As in the problem of evil, some apologists argue that the torments of Hell are attributable not to a defect in God's benevolence, but in human free will. Although a benevolent God would prefer to see everyone saved, he would also allow humans to control their own destinies. This view opens the possibility of seeing Hell not as retributive punishment, but rather as an option that God allows, so that people who do not wish to be with God are not forced to be. C. S. Lewis most famously proposed this view in his book The Great Divorce, saying: "There are only two kinds of people in the end: those who say to God, 'Thy will be done,' and those to whom God says, in the end, 'Thy will be done.'"

Nonetheless, free will alone would not seem to adequately resolve the question, especially in the context of most Christian theologies of grace, which grant that God could indeed convert the heart of every sinner and yet leave the freedom of the will in its integrity. In the Thomistic tradition, God grants sufficient grace for salvation to all men, yet it only effects salavations for some. The early modern controversies on grace among the Jansenists, Jesuits and Dominicans focused in part on the question of sufficient and efficient grace, and whether these differed in kind.

Some modern critics of the doctrine of Hell, (such as Marilyn McCord Adams) claim that, even if Hell is seen as a choice rather than as punishment, it would be unreasonable for God to give such flawed and ignorant creatures as ourselves the awesome responsibility of our eternal destinies. Jonathan Kvanvig, in his book, The Problem of Hell, agrees that God would not allow one to be eternally damned by a decision made under the wrong circumstances. One should not always honor the choices of human beings, even when they are full adults, if, for instance, the choice is made while depressed or careless.

On Kvanvig's view, God will abandon no person until they have made a settled, final decision, under favorable circumstances, to reject God, but God will respect a choice made under the right circumstances. Once a person finally and competently chooses to reject God, out of respect for the person's autonomy, God allows them to be annihilated. The fact that one must believe in God or be subject to eternal damnation or annihilation, even if the choice is completely made by a person, is often perceived as a scare tactic that inevitably forces or scares one into having to believe in God, and God would seem corrupt and evil in saying, "You can believe in me or not, but if you do not, you will either suffer for all eternity in Hell (i.e., eternal damnation) or else be destroyed or obliterated out-of-existence (i.e., annihilation)".

It is also debated as to whether or not every human being on Earth is in favourable circumstances to believe in God. For example, it is unlikely that many people born in Iran to Muslim parents would become Christian, God could be seen as punishing these people unfairly. This argument was used by French philosopher Denis Diderot, who, when asked about the validity of Pascal's Wager, replied "an Imam could reason the same way." A further issue is that God, being an omnipotent being who wants all his subjects to believe in him, could make his existence a lot more obvious than is the case, an argument used by Bertrand Russell, who declared that if he were to face God on Judgement Day, would reply "Not enough evidence, God! Not enough evidence!"

Apocatastasis

Even if the consistency of Hell with divine justice and mercy could be established, there would remain an additional problem in Christianity, since the New Testament in several places asserts a universal salvific will, and suggests that at the end of the world, all things will be restored to God. This "restoration of all things" or apocatastasis, was interpreted strongly by certain early Greek fathers, most notably Origen, as suggesting that sinners might be restored to God and released from Hell, returning the universe to a state identical to its pure beginnings.

While Origen emphatically denied that the demons and the reprobate would be saved, his theory of apocatastasis could be easily interpreted to have such implications, as was the case during the later Origenist controversies.

In the twentieth century, a belief in Christian universalism reappeared among many Protestant thinkers, and the notion that Hell might be empty was even espoused by the noted Catholic theologian Hans Urs von Balthasar. Balthasar was careful to describe his opinion that Hell might be empty as merely a hope, but even this claim was rejected by most conservative Catholics, including Cardinal Avery Dulles.

Cure/Care for Boredom Anyone?

Boredom. It kills. In my case, it kills the spirit, the soul, my motives in life, crazy thoughts etc... And just the thought of being bored makes it even more boring. This is what I was telling my officemate/childhood friend/schoolmate the other day when both of us, to all intents and purposes, had nothing to do besides doing nothing in the office. This is true as you dart to and fro and nowhere to go.

So, how does anyone beat boredom in the face of a world filled with melancholia? Drink beer? Yawn. Send a friend a text message? Nah. A haircut? Hmm. A new book? Phu. Invite Jonas for a few drinks? Whatever. Watch a movie? Check. Buy a couple ‘a National Geographics? Check!

And so, later that day I headed to the nearest mall just around the corner from the office, and finally saw the movie National Treasure: Book of Secrets. Well, I have always watched Nicholas Cage films anyway, and this is the sequel in which he, rumor has it earned $20 million big ones, and since I am a fan of adventure movies ala Indiana Jones and History itself, I simply had to check it out. Plus the fact that I bought an old issue of National Geographic Magazine with the life of Benjamin Franklin, one of the founding fathers of the 13 original colonies as the main feature story just a few months back.

Anyway, I noticed that seldom does anyone go to the movies anymore, especially at least because of the advent of pirated DVDs. In my case the lady from the treasury department who hawks pirated DVDs just downstairs by the employee's entrance had no copy of it yet (National Treasure), therefore rendering me helpless as to, well, go to the real movie house. Which, by any standards, is a better thing to do; what with a huge Whopper in one hand and an Extra Large Coke on the other gives a feeling of nostalgia from days when cinemas ruled the earth.

Also, there's nothing wrong with having an extra popcorn just in case hunger comes knocking in the middle of the film; good movies always make one cringe and grab for more tasty, delicious, poisonous MSGs. Whoever invented the formula for Coca-Cola is the most genius person who ever roamed the face of the planet. What's life without Coke anyway?

By-and-by, in the evening back in my place, I even felt better, felt happier, of what I accomplished for the day; the the subsequent events of the evening. And that’s 1) Watching a good movie, and 2) Buying more National Geographic Magazines to add to my existing line-up of good ole’ copies (late 20’s to present day copies). To cap the night off, I read my recent purchase—enjoying those good ole’ ads to great stories of men, women, nature, how the world has changed, and stories (and photos) only the National Geographic can give a simple guy like me.

But I have to admit those fastfood stuff didn't really stuff me much. So I grabbed some leftover Queso de Bola from the ref from the Christmas Eve party a long time ago. Then just before midnight I learned to play G n' R's Welcome to the Jungle better from Guitar Hero at the Playstation. I'm kidding; I slept.

Camote, Cure for Dengue?

Every once in a while I receive e-mails from friends or relatives which are worth reading and/or pondering on. I have posted some of them here in this blog but I know no one really bothers to read, yet I don’t care much. A lot may still stumble upon them and: Serendib! Anyway, a couple of months ago, two sons of my boss were stricken with the dreaded Dengue fever. She had to spend time for her kids in the hospital, therefore filing a leave of absence for around two weeks or so. She was terribly worried about it and so were we. I wanted to donate blood but mine was of another type and I just couldn’t help. Luckily, the two young boys survived that ordeal.

Here is an e-mail from my eldest brother about Dengue and a possible 100% cure which was forwarded to him by his high school batch mate (Ateneo HS ’84). My first reaction on the forwarded message was that of a relief, one that you feel when you know there’s hope from misery, and that some things that I believed in regarding nutrition are justified.

Here’s the full text:


THERE is hope that the dengue scourge will be obliterated.

I was in a meeting in Manila recently with other Napolcom officials. While waiting for my flight back to Cebu, I happened to talk with friends. The conversation eventually turned to dengue. Some of their statements shocked me. I called up the persons concerned and they confirmed these revelations.

Computer technician Wenceslao Salesale Jr., 27, was downed by dengue. His platelet count plunged from 180 to 80. He was rushed by ambulance from Novaliches to Manila. Inside the ambulance, a relative, acting upon the advice of a missionary priest, made him drink soup made from camote tops. The following day, his platelet count was normal.

Dengue attacked the 7-year-old daughter of engineers Mar and Lita Budlongan of Kaloocan City. Her platelet count read 80. The same treatment was used. The following day she was back to normal.

The 15-year-old daughter of businessman Nepomuceno Salaga of Sampaloc, Manila had a dangerous platelet count of 80 due to dengue. The same treatment was followed. The following day she was back in school.

I asked a doctor of medicine about herbal cures and he said that many, if not most, medicines come from plants. He also said that under the Hippocratic Oath, doctors are bound encourage anything that can cure a patient.

*Research*

We need not do research deep in the rainforests of the Amazon or venture into the ocean depths in search of the elusive cure for dengue. It is right there in the backyard.

The following information is from Wikipedia:

"In 1992, the Center for Science in the Public Interest compared the nutritional value of sweet potatoes to other vegetables. Considering fiber content, complex carbohydrates, protein, vitamins A and C, iron and calcium, the sweet potato ranked highest in nutritional value. According to these criteria, sweet potatoes earned 184 points, 100 points over the next on the list, the common potato (NCSPC)."

"…Sweet potato tops are excellent sources of antioxidative compounds, mainly polyphenolics, which may protect the human body from oxidative stress that is associated with many diseases including cancer ad cardiovascular diseases. Sweet potato greens have the highest content of total polyphenolics among other commercial vegetables studied.

"Sweet potatoes contain protein, dietary fiber, lipid, and essential minerals and nutrients such as calcium, phosphorous, magnesium, sodium, potassium, sulfur, iron, copper, zinc, manganese, aluminum and boron. Sweet potatoes are also important sources of vitamin A, thiamin, riboflavin, niacin and ascorbic acid."

*Camote*

In the case of Salaga, he bought five sheaves (bugkos/ bigkis) of camote cuttings. Each sheaf consists of about 12 cuttings. Each cutting measures about one foot. A sheaf costs about P5.

Camote tops are boiled in water to extract the juice. The boiling lasts for about five minutes. A little salt is used to give flavor to it. The patient is made to drink slowly and gradually. The body's immunity system is thus revived, making dengue helpless against the body's natural defenses. Camote enables the body to heal itself.

Now you know why I earlier said that my friends' revelations shocked me.

They were shocking because people are needlessly dying all around us from dengue, while their very cure is also all around us.

In the past, many were fond of using the derogatory statement, "Go home and plant camote." Now, camote is big news. It can save lives. What could be bigger than that?

So, to fortify your family against dengue, "Go home and plant camote!"

(Engr. Lita Budiongan and Mr. Nepomuceno Salaga personally related to me their experiences with their respective daughters. I asked their permission to use their names.)

Quotes from Idol #2

I was pondering on anything to post here, especially that the Holidays are over and it’s a new year, maybe some thoughts pertaining to it, and I discovered I haven’t got any. Anyway, as with every New Year’s Eve celebration with the family—I did not light a single firecracker. I’ve been practicing this since 1992, and sure is great having all my fingers intact after all these years. So in lieu of nothing to say or write, I’ll just share these quotes from George Bernard Shaw, a chap who lived before us. I must admit though that Oscar Wilde is still the wittier guy. And yeah, I have new year's resolutions that I don't want to talk/write about.


The secret to success is to offend the greatest number of people.

The things most people want to know about are usually none of their business.

There is no sincerer love than the love of food.

There is no subject on which more dangerous nonsense is talked and thought than marriage.

There is nothing more dangerous than the conscience of a bigot.

There is only one religion, though there are a hundred versions of it.

Use your health, even to the point of wearing it out. That is what it is for. Spend all you have before you die; do not outlive yourself.

When a man says money can do anything, that settles it: he hasn't got any.

Why, except as a means of livelihood, a man should desire to act on the stage when he has the whole world to act in, is not clear to me.

You use a glass mirror to see your face; you use works of art to see your soul.

You'll never have a quiet world till you knock the patriotism out of the human race.

Lack of money is the root of all evil.

Independence? That's middle class blasphemy. We are all dependent on one another, every soul of us on earth.

If you leave the smallest corner of your head vacant for a moment, other people's opinions will rush in from all quarters.

I'm an atheist and I thank God for it.

I would like to take you seriously, but to do so would be an affront to your intelligence.

Everything happens to everybody sooner or later if there is time enough.

Do not do unto others as you expect they should do unto you. Their tastes may not be the same.

Some thoughts about Hell

One time, a blogger who considered himself as an authority in the blogging community said that re-printing or re-writing an article from another source from the vast landscape of the net was somehow a no-no. I think otherwise, and therefore, I am re-printing this interesting piece by a student from the University of Washington, who somehow earned high praises from his professor by answering a question from their chemistry midterm exams in a rather different fashion. It was an essay. Let’s get into it without the long preliminaries. (Actually, I already posted this more than a year ago)

This was the question: Is hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)?

This was the student’s answer:

“First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and at the rate at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul goes to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving.

“As for how many souls are entering Hell, let’s look at the different religions that exist in the world today. Most of these religions state if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell.

“Since there is more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell.

“With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially.

“Now we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle’s Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume in Hell has to expand proportionally as souls are added.

“This gives two possibilities: 1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate at which souls enter Hell, the temperature in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose. 2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.

“So which is it?

"If we accept the postulate given to me by Yolanda during my Freshman year that, ‘It will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you,’ and take into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then Number 2 must be true, and thus I am sure Hell is exothermic and has already frozen over.

"The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting more souls and is, therefore, extinct…leaving only Heaven…thereby proving the existence of a divine being which explains why, last night, Yolanda kept on shouting, ‘Oh my God!’”

I was initially thinking of the reaction: “to hell with it,” but the saner side of me laughingly told me that the student really just deserved the ‘A’ his professor gave him, which he deserves a lot. I wanted to post this hilarious (if not comical) article since it really darn reminds me of the college life that I’ve been through. Trust me, it was fun. Right Pau T.?