Small-Mindedness, Pettiness, And Unkindness

Qualities that easily come to mind when thinking about human interaction.

Though one is confident that we try to avoid exhibiting them in the countless situations where we have to interact with our fellow humans, whether on a personal face-to-face basis or remotely like when writing.

But be that as it may, we still find ourselves falling into that undesirable rut, manifesting signs of being small-minded, petty, and unkind. It can’t be helped all the time. We are naturally slanted toward paying attention to interminable details and minutiae in our everyday workaday lives. We tend to be blinded by our self-righteous views of our own selves, giving way to unmindful neglect of the delicate feelings of others.

Still, we have to take that extra effort, lest it also infects the broader aspects of our lives that require us to be more open and tolerant to the larger realities around us.

I fear that this situation is quite widespread in the newest medium which have opened for us limitless access to the most numbers of people around the world, through their creative works or writings in the virtual library which is the Internet.

We are not only gregarious but socially competitive. Scoring points with others gives the animus and impetus to feel good about ourselves. Feeling justified and satisfied. That we are smart and can compete and fare well with similarly-blest individuals. We must confess we get some “kicks” going this way. But in the process, do we have to bring others down, so we can promote ourselves and our ideas? Thus, is it necessary to, say, bring the United States down because we want to promote the idea the we are just as good as them, in the areas of social mores, intelligence, politics, or what have you? Or, to namecall other persons who we find espousing ideas or publicly acting when perceived to be inferior to ours?

I specifically point as example to a well-read Philippine blog, who will only introduce any subject about the US, if in the process the country can be disparaged and portrayed in a bad light. Thus, while entries like this are far and in between, one can almost be sure that when the occasional entry involves the US, it will be because it can be parlayed as a shill piece invariably having the US come out as the unlovable villian, with the possible exception of entries involving Hollywood movies, which of course are US originated. Is it simply a manifestation of visceral hatred or dislike? Does a person harbor such unrelenting disdain for such a huge and diverse entity? Does such a one wake up in the morning, feeling cheery, generous, loving, etc. but at the same time concurrently harboring, however latently, this long-running disdain for a country so that when the opportunity and occasion align, another fusillade will be forthcoming?

I am not saying that this happens uniquely to this one individual, because I also witness this in others, who typically come out as very passionate and oozing with love for country, family, honor, and all the good stuff.

Is it possible then for such two irreconcilable extremes to co-exist in one mind or personality? Love wildly, but hate wildly, too?

This continues to baffle me. Not because I see myself as this pristine and could do no wrong storehouse of virtues and grace. But because, if as a transgressor myself I can see the falsehood of certain of my actions and am impelled when discovered to resolve to rectify and make amends, aren’t these same epiphanies shared by all of humanity?

Or is it simply, the case of the “square peg in the round hole”?

Atenean Romulo L. Neri – In The Spotlight

Some disjointed, and hopefully not totally rambling, thoughts on the above subject. Read at your own risk and nothing is written and/or claimed as “gospel truth”. And this early, here is my personal disclaimer/representation as to where exactly I am coming from. I hope it is sufficient for the purposes I have summarily envisioned in my mind.

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The Philippines’ former NEDA head, former presidential economic adviser, and now present CHED czar, Romulo L. Neri, for a good eleven hours yesterday was under intense and glaring spotlight and scrutiny in the Philippine Senate being asked to testify about what he knew about the now embattled NBN deal (currently suspended by President/under TRO by SC) between the Philippine and Chinese governments.

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A few days prior to the testimony we saw the Philippine media in close cadence with a vocal and vociferous segment of the local blogosphere (quite few in numbers when compared with the total), with long knives unsheathed and pointy claws bared, wasting no time and giving no quarters trying to sandbag, second-guess, pin to a corner, dove-tail, mold, define, or negatively allude to Neri’s person, his integrity, whether he will demonstrate strict compliance with his forsworn duties to his God, country, family, and maybe even the family pet. One even questioned the educational values of the Jesuit institution that Neri spent his HS in. Sanctimoniously implying that Jesuit schools mold some kind of automaton which will robotically act as taught and admonished, subtly castrated of innate free will and the rest of the noble qualities derived from his human nature.

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And while the testimony was ongoing, the self-anointed busybodies in the Comments sections of some blogs were quick almost unanimously (in echo chamber fashion) to denounce Neri, and these pure-of-heart Galahads in the warm embrace of their sanctimony were quite generous in their ad-hominem labels for Neri, ranging from one derisively alluding to a locally derided sexual orientation to one comparing him to a many-celled parasite. One wonders how many of these people have even served a part of their lives in earnest public service, in the country they so avidly profess to love, honor, and serve. But instead have themselves taken the less-resistant way out – to work and live in a foreign country. Like in some more prosperous Asian country or in Europe, maybe?

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Funny but I can’t remember, maybe because I simply quickly scanned through a number of the pertinent sources in the Internet, any one item of statement or comment that at least claim that Neri “lied” in his testimony so far. . Yes, he declined to answer some questions, whose answers would have involved bringing into the picture his immediate superior, the President, without first consulting with that person. And most everybody is agreed that that President, however tainted or maligned, is still entitled to invoke that privilege. So can’t people wait for that consultation before making any judgment on the one testifying?

But didn’t Neri already subtly imply that if the information not revealed involved high crimes, whether personally believed by him or based on recommendations of his lawyers, he would personally override that restraining cover under executive privilege? Sorry, I am not now inclined to re-reading the transcripts, so I could be wrong about Neri’s mention of high crimes.

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The partisan crowd was sorely disappointed. It entered into this arena, hell-bent on bringing down the unpopular President, with united minds determinedly cemented to the conclusion that this usurping Lady needs to be exposed and sent to the gallows. But the anointed executioner did not faithfully follow his scripted role, and what is actually coming out, strictly based on the virtual executioner’s point of view and his reading of the events relevant to the issue on the table, is that only a smaller fish can or may be served in a small platter.

Where did the executioner go wrong? Maybe his facts as facts do not jive with the facts as scripted? Maybe, crowd should ease up a bit to fight another day?

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The partisan crowd wanted its pound of flesh, now and not tomorrow, or any other day. Unfortunately, the butcher did not deliver pronto. So, now the butcher has become the swine, to be quartered and served as the alternate menu.

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Neri said: NEDA.. .. . under the president, not independent. So whether it was established as a constitutional body is not a valid bet here. But the answer speaks volumes.

Neri serves under the authority and confidence of the President. He can disagree but allow the President to make her own final decision on the matter, and still find sufficient justification to continue to stay in office. After all, if President loses confidence, out the door he goes, hopefully without the added provision that the same closing door hit him as he leaves. Or maybe he can resign when any disagreement ensues and maybe consign the rest of his life to some unheralded corner of unreality, where he can nurse his unrealizable or utopian expectations. It is solely his call.

BTW, didn’t the interrogators show a very marked disconnect from the nature, extent and culture of the lumbering bureaucracy in the country? Thus referred to as the micromanager, this President caters to a very top-heavy concentration of powers, so that practically all government executive actions and decision emanate from her person? And that her subalterns are simply there mostly for advisory and/or ministerial capacities? Not that this is any different from past presidents, right?

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Neri invoked executive privilege on conversations he had with the President for two possible reasons. He is withholding information because revelation may implicate the President and her family, or because he wants the President to speak for herself on matters directly attributable to her. If Neri speaks and implicates the President, it could possibly boil down to a “he said, she said” confrontation, until an outside independent source can be brought in to confirm who is into falsehood. Much like the Abalos bribe try.

Ushering in the following questions:

When she returns, cannot the President be asked to testify before the Senate re this deal?

And while we are on the subject of seeking truth, cannot a Chinese and/or ZTE official be invited to shed light? What’s the harm in trying?

Unless, is it an accepted and foregone conclusion that they are the alleged source (s) of the proffered bribes? Or that bribes had actually been offered by them?


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Hang in there, fellow traveler Romy. This may be one of those instances where it still pays to be made a fool by others.

And let me end, for now at least, with the firm hope that when one Googles your name to search and tally the juicy items written about you, this little bit helps in easing the collective pain brought on by the cruel onslaught of blind negativity colonizing the Internet.

Update:

Well, Well. Finally, getting some evenhanded treatment of Romy Neri.

From Inquirer.
From Mr. Babe Romualdez.
Another from Inquirer.

Breeding Of Fighting Cocks

Here’s a follow-up to an earlier blog entry on cockfighting. As reported the only state in the Union where cockfighting is still legal is in Louisiana, which gleaning from an observation from an unhappy breeder himself may eventually change in the near future. But the southern neighbors, the Mexicans, are quite steeped in its practice, are now more attuned to and conversant with it, and thus, nothing indicates that it will go away any time soon from that side of the border.


This slow-paced attrition in the US will soon spell doom to this particular industry, particularly the breeders who supply the fighting cocks for this sport. Northern California has its share of breeders whose prospects of survival clearly now hang precariously. And from what we can gather, over the years the breeders’ clientele has shifted from domestic to outside sources. Essentially now consisting of Mexicans, either permanent or temporary US residents, and Filipinos, again either now residing here or those who come here purposely to purchase fighting cocks or those for breeding.









Remember cockfighting is not only legal in the Philippines but is a healthy and thriving industry, which on the upside, generates a lot of employment and allied services. The downside, of course, is that many may say, it is a cruel and inhumane treatment of the fowls being used; and an even bigger debilitating issue, because it is gambling, a zero-sum enterprise that afflicts and destroys from among the numbers of the richest and the poorest., so pervasive that the remotest barrio in the remotest province is not spared from its pernicious practices and influences.

But the reality is, it is not also going away soon in the Philippines. Instead as earlier noted it is gaining momentum and adherents. It is commonly understood there that cockfighting which used to be limited during Sundays and important holidays, is now sanctioned almost daily in many parts of the country.

This development then throws open the opportunity to engage in a business created by an ensuing vacuum. It is easy to imagine how one may be able to serve one of its needs, and in the process reap some bountiful profits.

One possible area would be in cock breeding, which is in my estimation an easy business to learn and which requires comparatively modest capitalization. Except that the expected returns are phenomenal, given the very stiff local prices for fighting cocks, especially those with foreign bloodlines.








Yesterday, we had the good fortune of visiting two breeders located in two different but contiguous towns here in Northern California.









The pictures we took give a rough overview of the physical set-up of a breeding business that boasts of 5k cocks and hens, but mostly of the former.

Transport For Comfort

Is it a plane? Is it a bird? Is it Supe…..?

No, silly. It is a gyrocopter, or an autogyro, or a gyroplane, or, err, a rotaplane.

Needless to state, heavier-than-air Homo sapiens has always been fascinated and intrigued about flying. Many a youngster’s dreams have been woven into episodes of being able to fly through flimsy air.

Of course, man has done most anything that strikes his many capricious fancies and whims, typically by inventing machines to accomplish them. He will even go beyond altering man’s exterior environment to make realities of those dreams. If given the opportunities, he will even invent or devise whatever means necessary to actually change man’s physical or mental constitutions in this pursuit, bound and limited most of the time by the perimeters of ethics and morality.

But enough of and away with the ethereal musings. Over time man has generally attended to with sterling successes in satiating his many wishes and fantasies, whether as necessities or simply as conveniences.

For God’s sake, we have planes and/or flying machines of various shapes and sizes to enable him to fly, or lift him from the ground and bring him places.

But that is not the attendant question. The more relevant question is how many of the vast numbers of humanity in the planet can afford to own a flying machine for his personal uses. On land, a vast number of us can travel faster than the fastest animals using a wide array of machines – bikes, motorbikes, cars, trucks, boats, jetskis, etc. And a vast number of us can own those land/water vehicles for our personal uses.

But a flying machine that we can use at the strike of our fancy or need? A flying machine one can keep in your garage or load up in your pick-up truck like a kayak for your skyward excursions? Now, that’s a great possibility. Easily translatable to reality.

Hoverhawk Corporation here in the US can provide you with the precious key to open up your own dreams of flying on your own, in your own little plane, transporting you anywhere you want to go.

For as little as 15k dollars plus shipping and handling costs, you can own the cheapest model which can be delivered to any location you desire, packaged and requiring some assembly before use. Most cars in the market today cost at least that much and most garages (and curbs) are filled with two or three cars to a family. Making one wonder why this addictive bias toward land travel does not carry over to the equally innate love of free flight in thin air. Like a soaring bird traveling to any part of the globe, unfettered by the bounds of the very limiting constraints of geography. Where one does not need roads, or valleys, or land or water, for land/water obstacles that may present some difficulty in scaling or navigating can be conquered by simply flying over them.

So the adventure begins. First item on the menu, learn about flying and its dynamics and when done, take some basic short-time flying lessons.

So excuse me, while I attend to those. Till then.

Sounds Around Town

At the onset of dusk when the slowly fading light of the sun starts being pushed out by darkness, I typically prod leaden feet to make lazy steps out of the front door and position myself to enjoy nature’s dramatic closing of day for night. During this transitional time of late summer, the particular time would be when 7 PM is announced by the ever-reliable grandfather clock with the booming chimes.

When that front door opens and ushers in the vista and the sounds of outdoors that’s when creepy nostalgia and a bit of melancholy commence. Extruding some somber kind of aloneness and solitude. Thankfully the compelling though muffled drone of freeway sounds generated by the constant stream of vehicles from a distance, rudely jars one to reality and dominates one’s aural attention. The constant drone from I-205 which guides east-bound travelers toward Stockton and ultimately Sacramento, almost never abates, from earliest morn to past midnight.


Pointing my face west, I let eyes feast on an artfully clouded sky that continues to source out whatever light that still lingers on.









And had I gone out earlier, this same skyward orientation would have awarded me with the attention-grabbing sunset where old Sol begins to descend to the mountain-tops in the distance, past one of the neatly-trimmed parks that punctuates our four-year old development, clearly defined and framed by a high perimeter fence. Thus, as one gazes at the fast changing skyscape, above the freeway din one’s attention is quickly co-opted by the faint shouts and tiny shrieks from children frolicking in the now barely visible park, under protective mantle exuded by eager watchfulness of matronly ladies close by, a number of them dressed in their flowing native saris.

Also, I tarry at my fixed gaze to await for the passing of the car of the wife as it wraps around the western end of the park and points homeward, at about this time, too.


Turning right from the same front-door vantage point, I extend my squinting gaze to the end of a short road that skirts left and can’t help feeling like I am in some kind of dressed parade, stiffly seated in the reviewing stand presiding over an array of stocky sentinels, neatly color-coordinated in differing pale shades of beige, brown, and gray. In reality it is simply the illusion occasioned by the pale light on the houses that populate both sides of the street.


Apart from these now all to familiar sounds, Tracy is still essentially a quiet town, still doggedly clinging to the homey feel of the old farming town that it once was. Though, no more cocks crowing. No more birds chirping on treetops. Replaced by the continuous drone from the distant freeway, constantly reminding one that certain places around here are never asleep. And the many new houses dotting its once farming landscape? Another mute witness to an old town slowly receding to history.

Inevitable transitions for a growing region, a growing state, and an equally growing country.