Old Thoughts, New Medium

Gripped in odd moments of human helplessness, it is not unusual for man to awkwardly start a conversation with his God. Sometimes in self-effacing candor he may look at his own tattered self as still like unto the image of his God though recklessly warped it may have been defaced. Indeed, all creatures are likened unto God from whence all emanated. And yet, God is not like us, no more than a sketch of any man is like that man. We stumble badly when we use our finite minds and language to describe the grandeur and perfection of that divinity to which we crave for ultimate unity.

We discern that the least perfection we find in our species speaks volumes of the ultimate perfection of that uncontainable model that interrupted his timelessness to transport us to finite time and space. Still, we admit that however generous and helpingful our pious platitudes may seem, they are simply dim, inadequate, puny, obscure and faint shadows of revelation of the awesome substance of that infinity. He who has no name is one who cannot be contained either in words of language or deep mystical musings.

Yes, we acknowledge God is good, and we like to think that somehow in this all too upside down world we now find ourselves in, that good would somehow manifest itself and bring some needed relief to a much-burdened humanity. We pine for the abundant generosities bestowed in times past. Godly love that showered us when least expected. His benign mercies easing the many vicissitudes that seemed formidable. So now we are desperate for a renewed round of tangible manifestations of his goodness.

And that is when we miss the mark completely. For that infinite goodness that we hanker for is not one prone to bring and give, but rather to demand and take. His goodness is expressed not so much as what it brings to us, but rather that it aims to take our hearts away from us. This captivating lover entices to wrench our hearts away from us. It aims to light up our timid hearts so that like smoldering torches it can scale the heights of its own goodness. Thus inflamed, no journey will be long enough, no peril too dangerous, and no obstacle too formidable. Giving birth to the needed courage, daring, wisdom, and strength to overhaul our adversities.

Look inward. The solutions are right there, not in projective victimhood. Nor in utter surrender to perceived inevitabilities of overwhelming human or institutional failings. Escapist exercises in endless rhetorical debates and mental gymnastics will not be sufficient, either.

Don’t look around, rather look inward. We grant that our very nature willingly inclines toward talking and discoursing with one another, but remember that seldom do we return to our own solitude without grave prejudice to our own conscience.

The more I converse with man, the less I find myself a man when I return. No truer words said.

Religiosity From The Past (Part Two)

Following up on the initial entry which was about my maternal grandmother, continuing to rummage through the remaining stowed items in the new house has unraveled yet another interesting remnant from the past. This time an old devotional/prayer book owned by my late mother, again written in the language of her milieu, Spanish, and made in Germany. I had asked the wife how this new find got into our possession, but immediately recalled that my mother had lived with us here in the US for about 10 years prior to spending her remaining years in the old homeland. Then it dawned on me that among the few things that she brought from the old country were the prayer books, rosary, and novenas that were her constant and ever dependable companions.

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Tracy Skyscape

The intense summer heat notwithstanding, Tracy can be a riveting visual delight. The chocolate-colored hills from the distance. . .
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. . .and the mute explosion of colors in its twilight sky.

When Is Many Too Many?

Unarguably The Bay Area anchored by the city of San Francisco in the US is home to many residents of Filipino descent, counting several cities with dominating percentages of such minorities, namely, Daly City, Union City, Hercules, Vallejo, Milpitas, etc.

There is little surprise then that this adequately-educated group has been targeted by certain local print media practitioners (of Filipino descent, of course) as their primary clients. Thus, many weekly newspapers blanket this large area with their colorful publications. Last I counted at least 6 or 7 of these publications are readily available within the greater San Francisco area.

It might be interesting to note here how these publications are circulated in their targeted markets. First, most important cities here in the US have what is popularly referred to as “one-newspaper town” situation, meaning essentially that each locale is serviced by only one major newspaper (applying to dailies) and economics has been attributed as mostly responsible for this. A known example is San Francisco which used to have two major dailies, the San Francisco Chronicle and The SF Examiner. While the latter still exists, it is now essentially a “free” newspaper on a reduced-size format. Now, the Filipino newspapers (typically published weekly) are of this second kind. Essentially given out free, though a couple still maintaining a semblance of being for sale by noting the price of each copy prominently on the front page. Nothing unusual since it is common practice here for free newspapers to still carry a price tag.

Guess where they are available? Typically in properly marked newsstands or shelves in certain ethnic grocery stores, or in well-patronized FilAm businesses such as bakeries or restaurants.

Not included in the picture are the Philippine News, Manila Bulletin USA, and Ang Panahon. The Philippine News is the grand-daddy of them all having been established way back in 1961. Mr. Alex Exclamado used to the publisher when we first got here in Northern California. Only the three newspapers in the picture where available during our last sortie to San Francisco, and aside from those mentioned above, there may be a couple more whose names escape my memory.

If we can accept the premise that economics dictated the rationale of a one-newspaper town, why do we have a sizeable number of newspapers serving an even smaller number of readers, even granting that the rule applied to dailies and we are querying weeklies here? And remember further that these are given out free, gratis, not even a thank you and you are welcome.

We have to assume that these are profitable ventures and that their revenue streams must not be in subscription or newspaper sales, or else why do they continue to be published. I am confident their publishers have either their altruistic streaks or for the common good idealism, but still they wouldn’t be able to sustain losses indefinitely.

Advertisements. That’s what these publications have plenty of, page after page of them ranging from coming live shows of Filipino artists to immigration services coming from the many immigration lawyers around. Most news items are anyway “canned” coming from the old homeland, and even the opinion columns, many are extracted from the national dailies in Metro Manila. One (or two) even carries the syndicated column of Ms. Michelle Malkin, the most visible and widely-read political editorialist/blogger of Filipino descent here in the US.

What else? I have noticed that these publications carry what used to be sectioned out in the old broadsheets as the society page, where social “happenings” within the local communities are either pictorially depicted or written about; but clearly in this instance a more extended and picture-dominated version . And mined from the sometimes loud verbal skirmishes within the group which somehow inadvertently wound their way to the public, I read sometime ago that this is possibly another revenue stream source. Subjects pay some “publication” fees to have their children’s graduation, marriage, trip to the old homeland, a well-attended sumptuous despedida or bienvenida, etc., featured or written about. Can its veracity be confirmed?

Anyway, what appears unchallenged is that these publications must of themselves be profitable because if not, the intractable laws of economics will invariably set in to write finis to them.

Thus, again the market holds sway, the number of newspapers being determined primarily by what the market can bear.

Different Strokes, Different Folks

In the wake of the brutal dogfighting scandal that has imperiled the career of Atlanta Falcons’ Michael Vick, the following story on illegal cockfighting somewhere in rural Polk County in Florida came out, this time highlighting the illegal and shady underground world of professional cockfighting here in the US. Aside from the brutality of the sport, this activity has been judged illegal in all states, except in Louisiana.

With this high-profile case about dogfighting, the good likelihood is that it will push legal initiatives addressing all forms of cruelty to animals in arranged encounters masquerading as sports. The concomitant monetary dimensions may also likely provide the needed inertia to slow the process down because these activities also partake of big-time gambling. So let’s wait and see, after all cruelty to humans as we see in many of those extreme fighting events is going the other way – on the rise and gaining more participants/viewership.

But now across this big pond we call the Pacific lies the archipelago nation of the Philippines that has very deep cultural ties (and monetary, too) with precisely this “sport” of cockfighting, so deeply ingrained that all strata of society willingly and with no qualms, participate in this legal activity. Even before Magellan in the 1500s discovered the islands, its indigenous peoples were already steeply engaged in it, placing it as a central part of their social recreation. In the big cities down to the lowliest towns, the presence of the unmistakable cockpit is ubiquitous and during Sundays, pious attendance to religious ceremonies in the largely Catholic country competes with the boisterous sessions at the cockpit.

And its popularity appears to be at inverse proportion to the country’s economic conditions. The poorer it gets, the more cockfighting is being done. As I recall growing up in that milieu, cockfighting was legal only during Sundays, or on rare occasions sanctioned by the local authorities, either as a celebratory dispensation like during fiestas, or to commemorate special occasions that bring more people (and money) to the locality. And these were held exclusively in a sanctioned cockpit under “regulatory supervision”. But even then, there were illegal and clandestine cockfighting sessions called tupadas, sprouting in remote and inaccessible areas.

But now as I understand it, the market holds sway, meaning it is held as often as the market can bear. Which could be daily. And as an undeniable measure of its popularity and acceptance, the same coliseum where the Ali-Frazier fight was seen by the entire world, the same place where the last pope said the Mass that echoed across the globe, is the same place where cockfighting “derbies” are regularly held and where the richest aficionados match the skills of their cocks with their bloated pocketbooks, and as reported with wagers as high as $400,000 per day.

As reported by LA Times, this “sport”, or call it game or industry, economically benefits the entire country annually to the tune of US$1 billion. As many as 5 million gladiator cocks are used each year for this.

One wrinkle that may separate the Philippines from the rest as reported is the manner of disposition of the “loser” cocks, or locally called bihag, which in most instances are not either thrown away or buried, but brought home and eaten. I recall as a kid that one could go to the cockpit and savor menu derived from their carcasses, rich and nutritious soup or stew dishes since cocks are not only fed and treated well but they regularly ingest vitamin pills to prepare them for battle. Or one could buy them dressed and brought home to be cooked as desired.

It is interesting to note also that during that time the much preferred breed was called Texas, primarily because they were imported from the US. And local breeders since then have been exerting their best to produce the best fighting cocks from that mix. I was told of late that in Stockton one could purchase breeders for export to other countries. However it has also been reported by the LA Times, that the president has signed a law making it a felony to transport across state lines, or export, chickens used in fights.

Like the sport itself, cockfighting lingo is also rich and colorful – inilog and biya, masyador or kristo, quatro diez, siete ocho, llamado and dejado, sunoy and sabungero, tari for razors or knives, etc.

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