Burn, Momma, Burn

In India, during 4th century B.C. ,widows, after their spouse's death, are left with only two options: pack their stuff and head to tralalaland, or hurl their bodies into their husband's burning funeral pyre.

These virtuous women, referred to as "suttees", are expected to fulfill this ultimate gesture, to expurge their sins and assure her and her departed husband eternal bliss.

This prevailed, until the British government outlawed the tradition in 1800s. But rumor has it that it still secretly occurs until today. Modern day suttees must be singing "Eternal Flame" (as performed by The Bangles) as flames consume every inch of their skin.

I wonder if husbands who outlive their wives also go through the same feat?

An Anthropological Hoax

The Marcos Regime left a string of the most intriguing stories of our time. No, I am not talking about the discovery of Yamashita Treasure, or Ninoy's Assasination Plot. Those stories had been dissected and discussed ad nauseam, it feels like I had first hand share of the events myself. What I found out is less celebrated, but equally interesting.

The year was 1971. There was so much excitement circulating within the scientific world. Dafal, a Filipino hunter, stumbled upon the Tasaday Tribe hidden within a thick rain forest. The modern world had just discovered a prehistoric relic existing on an island in Mindanao. Scientists, anthropologists, international media and organizations came in hordes, all eager to stick their noses into such an amazing discovery: A prehistoric group of people, still following stone age ways far from the reaching arms of civilization.

The Minister for Tribal Affairs, Manuel Elizalde, during Ferdinand Marcos, is in charge of the affairs.And just a year after their discovery, the Tasaday forest was declared as an anthropological reserve in 1972.

It stayed that way for fourteen years.There were about twenty-seven people, including children, and they existed without any knowledge about agriculture or raising livestock. They had no social norms, no social hierarchy, no leaders.

But when the Marcos Regime receives the last inevitable blow in 1986, and as soon as Marcos was unseated, the lid was lifted and out goes the stench. Oswald Iten, a Swiss journalist, paid an unannounced visit to the Tasaday reserve. Much to Ossy's surprise, he was greeted by tribesmen wearing modern underwear beneath leaf aprons and cavemen living in modern houses.

It was a splendid performance worthy of an Oscar Award. The gentle Tasaday sported crude tools and spoke their ancient Tasaday language to pull up the act. And the children too, were very cooperative.
While scientists were shaking their heads and anthropologists argue how they were taken for a ride, Elizalde is sipping the rich, steaming froth of the proceeds from grants, intended for the tribe's preservation.

Amazing isn't it? I'd probably try to look for someone who can claim that he's seen Bin Laden basking under our tropical sun.

Strange Beginnings

Aristotle, an ancient Greek philosopher, and incidentally,The Father of Science, presented theories that were based on misunderstanding of the forces governing the physical world. This may seem odd, but he really believed that the brain was a blood-cooling device, that maggots spontaneously develop on meat, and that all things are varied combinations of air, water, fire and earth, and discounted Democritus for his "Atom Theory".

He also categorized things based on their "gravity" or "levity". Earthen materials, which sink in water and other liquids, had more gravity, and fire, which leaps up in the air, had more levity. To explain how stars and other celestial bodies float in the outerspace, he created the fifth element which he calls "ether".

It never occured to Aristotle, and to most ancient Greek intellectuals, to put these theories under testing. Experiment was unheard of, until a 17th century scientist by the name of Francis Bacon introduced the concept.

These profound errors were conceived because of logic and observation, which is the very foundation of science. So let's just leave Aristotle as he is right now, the reigning "Father of Science" or we might end up rewriting textbooks and launch debates as to who deserves to get the title.

In Defense of Cell Phones

I couldn't help but wonder
How in the thicket of thin air
Throbbings sent by minuscule hearts
Are received by its intended cell

*
Bowed heads of glinting eyes
That scintillates, not with the glow
Of the screen's backlight
But with clowns popping out of
The screen and strings of letters
Being scrolled down.

*
No.
A unit cannot be anymore reduced
To mere plastic chips.
Or mere buttons to
Push

Quills

I was digging through some old cds at home, one rainy lazy sunday afternoon. An old buddy was asking me to come with her for another tiring rounds at a newly opened "supernova-mall" somewhere in Roxas Boulevard. I fabricated reasons just to stay at home. I told my friend that I had to finish some crochette-ing and cross-stitching jobs, and some carpentry stuff after that.

My wallet's almost dried-up and I guess, I am just not in my best mood to prowl around and spread love, harmony and world peace by strutting my ass in a crowded mall. After a few minutes of digging into my old stack of discs, I found something that may suffice and keep me awake for a good 2 or 3 hours.

So I settled to watch a not-so-old movie, which I had first seen some 5 or maybe 6 years ago. The title was "Quills" and it stars Kate Winslet and Joaquin Phoenix. And yeah, the Great Geoffrey Rush who plays the role of Marquis` de Sade. The story unfolds in an asylum/institution where the "demented", "queer" and those who were labeled "unfit" to thrive within the norms of the society, are placed (or should I say, locked-up).
Marquis` de Sade was part of the population, and he is guilty for writing prose that leans on the sexual, which the conservative society deems as a threat to an otherwise "wholesome and decent" social norms. So he was ordered to be incarcerated and was prohibited from transcribing his "lewd" ideas into printed letters. But just like man's morning erection, De Sade didn't just stopped there. He's got blankets, a goblet of red wine and chickenbones as a quill and he had her laundress Maddy, played by Ms. Winslet, smuggle the stories, to be published for the prudish world to read. And when blankets and wine was taken away, he cut his tongue off and he splattered his prose with his own blood all over the walls of his cell.

That scene was reeking with madness and insanity, so mad that it follows me even during sleep, hours after I watched the movie. I came to realize how I have been betraying myself for not doing what I had always wanted to do, to wield words, to write.

I am existing in a time where medium is not a problem, and people don't get incarcerated for writing (Except if you're writing about GMA and her government; you get gunned down. That is not a problem with me because I intend to write about other better things).I need not slice off a member of my anatomy, we got papers everywhere, and an interesting thing called "blog".
For years, I have been a doing somnambulogues. I eat, I drink, I shit and I fuck. I do the things normal people does. But they were all did while in deep slumber.

I just woke up... and I am now ready to spread love, harmony,and world peace.
And I will do that by wielding prose , by writing ...
and by strutting my ass in a crowded mall...

I will call my mall-rat friend.