Global Warming: a factual myth

Last week I went to a UP Centennial Lecture (cool, I’ve never been in a lecture where all UP campuses get to interact after the talks—through videophone!) on global warming. Dr. Perry Ong’s thesis was simple but unnerving: yes there is global warming, but it’s not all our fault, so quit feeling guilty and act on the real problem.

Indeed, our penchant for guilt has led us to put all the blame on global warming on ourselves. We’ve forgotten that volcanic eruptions and cow farts can actually cause more atmospheric damage than the sum of all Chinese in the world.

What we should do? Of course, laxity is out of the question. Global warming is still a fact. Rushing around in paranoia, as Al Gore’s campaign may initially cause, is more so out of the question.

We should conduct more focused studies on the other causes of global warming, and from there, design a collective human action to counter the totality of causes of global warming.

As they say in philosophy, when you take a thing apart to study each part, you must put everything back to study the whole, otherwise, you’ll just waste your time. We’ve blamed ourselves enough. Now it’s time to see the bigger picture and act accordingly.

There’ll be another UP Centennial Lecture next Wednesday, 2 pm at UP NISMED. It’ll be on Education. I hope to see you there.

there’s something about those executives

written October 9, 2007

This afternoon, I remembered why it was that a few years ago, I was enthralled with the management field. Big numbers, huge offices, expensive shoes, kickass sports cars, and more importantly, that mysterious air.

I filled in for a business meeting for my previous employer, and surprisingly, I found myself sitting in front of the client company’s President, Vice-President, Corporate Adviser, Chief Financial Analyst, and HR Head. I was awestruck. They were what I wanted to be at some point in my life…

Well, the shoes weren’t that expensive-looking. And the cars were out of view. The offices and numbers were pretty obvious, but the air… it was so strong. Making business decisions in split-seconds, asking simple but very important questions, and pointing out sides of the case I wasn’t able to think were there at all. All that flair, all that genius, and all the power of those men and women... shet! Those are things they’re enjoying (mostly) because of their hard work. I can just imagine the sleepless nights, the liters of coffee and the books read.

Thinking back, I guess that was the real reason why I fell in love with that field. I wanted to be as hard working as the great people of that field. The shoes, the cars and the ultra-powerful, unlimited plastic card are really just cherries on the parfait. I bet Gucci and Porsche would look ten times better if I know I worked f_cking hard for them.

The presentation didn’t end up as hoped (the deal is still pending). But those higher ups have reminded me of something important, making the ordeal well worth it.

hoy, salamat a..

Alam ko nababasa mo na to, kaya hayaan mong pasalamatan kita. Kahapon, nung umulan, hinubad mo ung jacket mo para pagsilungan natin. Sabi ko bale wala yun kasi ililigo din natin ang panandaliang dampi ng ulan. Pero sa totoo lang, masaya kong katabi ka sa ilalim ng jacket mong isang linggo mo nang di pinalabhan.

Pati nung hinila kita papuntang admin building para tapusin ko yung interview assignment ko. Hindi mo naman kailangan gawin yun pero sumama ka pa rin. Umupo ka lang dun at nagmukhang magsasaka sa bandana mo. Di ka nabore, at nagtanung-tanong ka din sa kausap ko. Ginawa mong masaya ang isang boring na trabaho.

At nung natulog tayo nung isang hapong umuulan sa bundok, nalaman mong giniginaw ako, kaya paggising ko, ibinalot mo sa akin ang kumot na pilit mong inaagaw pag tulog ka. Maya-maya, inakap mo na ko nang husto. Ang sarap ng tulog ko nun.

Baka kasi isipin mo, hindi ko napapansin ang maliliit na bagay. Hindi. Naaalala, ko lahat yun. :)

p.s. pag tinukso mo kong ang cheesy-cheesy ko...lagot ka sa kin. ;p

The importance of a name

I remember one lazy afternoon while studying in Coffee Bean, my friend suddenly remembered he had to make a testimonial for an upcoming election. Those were the longest five short sentences of my life. It took us 2 hours of deciding on diction, punctuation, construction and length. All we wanted to say was Vote for our friend, but we just had to think long and hard before we said it in a different way.

I asked him, why not put in a quote, or a funny joke, or just be terse. We were, after all, studying, and two hours of sidework for a 5-sentence testimonial spelled wasted time in all caps.

I can't, my name is on the line, he said.

Name. The same was the gist in Celeste's (Mylene Dizon) short scene with Ploning (JudyAnne Santos) in the movie "Ploning" where the former contemplated the secret to immortality. She said it could be found in a name shared with the people she loves. And it can't be in the common form. Manong guard, manong driver, and ate fishball, these are all hollow and connotes dispensability. If you do want to be remembered, if you do want to live forever, you invest in a name. Look at Bush, Marcos, and GMA. We don't simply call them presidents. We use their names that they have, for good or bad, invested heavily on.

The same goes for my friend. He isn't just another officer. He has a mark to take care of, and that mark is carried on by his name.

And the same goes for all of us. We have to protect the names we build for ourselves, lest the world or even just the people we care for, forget about us.

Visual Delight

Overall, "Ploning" is a simple feel-good setting and sceneries movie. If you want to be visually delighted, maybe this movie is for you.

My movie companion observed that the screenplay was overdone. I think he was right. There were quips and quotes here, there and everywhere. Too many cooks just spoiled the broth.

As for Judy Anne, well, you gotta give it to her. She did portray Ploning with the necessary loveability and mystery the character deserved. She was a bit overdressed all throughout though, but you just can't help but pardon her for it. Ploning is, after all, a visual piece.

good food, but...

Last night was Nang Tet's despedida, and like any regular Pinoy despedida, it was marked with food. Lots of 'em.

We ate in La Mesa Grille, a fine (and cheaper, I think) escape from the now monotonous Dencio's or Gerry's Grille. As my Ninang is a food savant, and she shows off her tummy to prove it, we left her the honors of doing the orders.

hito flakes and scallops

mixed grilled seafood

I particularly liked the grilled hito and scallops. The flakiness of the earlier dish makes you forget of the image of a mustached fish, or the established fact that catfish dishes are particularly oily. Part of the trick, I think, stems from the unusual tamarind-bagoong sauce. As for the scallops, I liked them because they reminded me of my best friend who, 10 years ago, taught me how to eat those things.

As I was downing the food, I suddenly remembered the report I made for work earlier that day. It was something about the present food crisis and how my school should be hosting a forum about it as soon as possible. Food crisis, it seemed like just a bad dream we'd wake up from tomorrow.

But it is established reality. And we know we have to do something about it. But does it mean we should forego special family dinners such as this? This is similar to the impromptu question I got for my orals for my social theology class on whether buying a Porsche, given the social conditions of our country, was a social sin.

I said there has to be a way to have the two together. Self-pleasure and social responsibility need not necessarily conflict. You can buy the Porsche but still contribute to the poor in other, non-monetary ways. Education is cliche but it is still the best alternative.

As for my dinner with my Tita, I shoved away the momentary nuances of guilt. I won't be seeing her again for months and I might as well enjoy the feast. But at the back of my mind, I noted that I should make better the report I made earlier that day. Funnily, I suddenly remembered the face of my social theology teacher, smiling in what seemed like an approval.

a starry deal

(written a few months back)

Last Friday, I spent the night at a coastal resort owned by the family of the infamous Paris. I spent my night lingering in the beach area with some overpriced red wine and free peanuts in my hands. The sky was just so dark that the stars on it sparkled extra brightly. I thought I was in a dream, or in a movie. Things were too beautiful to be true.

Then I remembered the article I read the other day. Some super-duper nova (apparently one of the biggest stars in the universe) exploded with extreme intensity that no black hole formed. A king star died without leaving a trace. And so I looked at them, shining balls of hydrogen watching over our puny little planet, observing our puny lives. We die all right. But they do, too. Not so high and mighty now, huh, I thought.

We live in the mortal plane, all of us. The white sand beneath my feet, the pungent wine in my hand, me, and the giant stars above. Someday, at the right times, we’d all say our final goodbyes. It’s a scary thought, knowing that in the end no presently living star will be left to tell our story to the future creatures of distant galaxies. No one, except He who schemes all things. It sends me shivers, peeping through God’s vastness and seeing nothing concrete. But it’s also comforting. If the giant stars above us are all in God’s plan, then so are us. So are us.

“We are in this together,” I told the North Star above me. “So let’s make a deal. You shine your best, and I’ll live my best.” For a moment, I thought I saw the star blink.

walking through mist

(written 17 Oct 07)

Me: Is that rain or fog?
Cid: That’s both.

Paolo, Cid, Ron, Jen and I spent the afternoon in Choco Kiss talking about anything and everything (e.g. Sandman, racing, Shake Rattle and Roll, etc). Outside the rain poured for hours, bringing with it, interestingly, fog. Paolo was leaving for the States on Friday. The lunch was our pabaon feast for him. He said sternly that we weren’t saying “goodbyes”, only “see you laters.” In five months, he promised he'd return.

On the way home I decided to drop by the church. It was slightly drizzling and the air was so clean. Amazingly, the church was covered in fog. I remembered a foreign legend I’ve read before of people who enter into mists and find themselves in a new world. Time passes by rather slowly in that new world, the terrains are magically different and the people are smaller but older than they seem. Avalon. It would be a perfect place to wait in. They say a day in that world is equivalent to weeks in the real world.

After a while, the mists subsided. Five months is not a long time, after all. My friend will be back soon.

**And five months after, he did come back to us.