A not so violent reaction.

PGMA ran for president after saying she won't. She emerged victorious.

ERAP insisted he was innocent even after proven duly guilty of plunder beyond a shadow of doubt.When he ran for president again, he ranked second.

GUTIERREZ went into plea bargaining when she should have prosecuted Garcia fervently. Though the beheading scythe of impeachment looms and although technically she is not, she is still the Ombudsman.

YOU ran for senator after making a major (major) blunder, saying you were coerced by the previous administration to betray your folks, causing others to cause anarchy, lying about making a public apology and indirectly injuring the reputations of people who should have known better than giving you that responsibility you messed up. The least you could have done was stage an "Angelo Reyes" and the worst is run for public office. And yet, 

you WON.

-Bongga ang mga ka-level mo. Ma-proud ka.

'Congrats and goodluck to you'- Regine

It occurred to me that everywhere I go, the fact that I am a fan of Regine Velasquez always shows. One example was during my Nestle M.I.L.E. experience where I dined with Bear Brand's brand manager, Ms. Jasmin Estacio. Because the topics usually revolve around business and management ideas, our conversation shifted towards Bear brand's endorsements and commercials. I asked her if she had met Regine-- a stupid question since she sure had met Regine, being the brand manager. She said yes. Before she could even ask me why, I told her that I am a huge fan of the diva in an exaggerated manner (probably forgetting that I am dining in a five star hotel's international buffet with no less than accomplished and high-ranking professionals around me). That sent her the message that my newfound 'close' connection with Regine (Me to Nestle MILE to Nestle to Bear Brand to Ma'am Jazz to Regine) meant the world to me so she offered to bring me along during Regine's new Bear Brand commercial taping. To my extreme disappointment, the MILE program would be over by that time and while Regine was taping her new commercial, Ma'am Jazz would have to bring something else instead.

A piece of paper, I suggested. Regine could sign it and Ma'am Jazz would send it to me. The piece of paper I gave was a Bear Brand stationery with blanks for your name and ambition. I wrote my full name and after pondering for a short while I scribbled 'to be successful' as my ambition. Then I left her my address. 

A Facebook message from Ms. Jazz revealed that Regine Velasquez, my idol, rejected to sign that piece of paper. But it was a different kind of rejection. She proposed instead to give me her soon to be released album sometime in November.( The MILE program was from Oct.26-29). To quote Ma'am Jazz, "with dedication pa ha."

She was referring to "Fantasy," her last album as a single woman before tying the knot with Ogie Alcasid. It was October then and I never heard from Ma'am Jazz until recently when she asked for my mailing address once again because aparently she never forgets her promises.

I used MSU-IIT's Chemical Engineering Department as my address because I was worried that if I use my boarding house address I might not be there to receive it. At least my instructors would be willing to secure the package for me. 

Imagine my elation upon receiving this.

 My reaction was, "Omigad, she wrote my name. Look friends, she got the double L right!!"

 When I opened the package I saw the CD enclosure and a beautiful Regine greeted me with her lips parted.

Great.

But this was greater. Regine postcards.

I remembered the time when I browsed through these pictures in Facebook and showed them to my friend the Renaissance Painter. He refused to believe that it is Regine. As usual, it was a heated debate I insist I won.

To Ma'am Jazz, I could never thank you enough. It was very kind of you to do this and this is something deeply engraved in my memory.

To Regine-- if this can be considered my message to you-- finally, after watching all your videos in YouTube for n times, going to one of your concerts, listening to almost all of your songs original or cover, watching all of your movies and TV shows, a dream of mine came true. I keep on wondering what is next-- meeting you in person, perhaps or singing with you? It is not an exaggeration to say that I would be ready to die when that happens. Thank you, Songbird for this tangible gift of my admiration. I believe it transgressed the electromagnetic waves, radio signals, huge concert venues and silver screens between a fan and his idol.  I cannot help but think that your kindness and compassion to those who admire you as a singer and as a person is the reason why you are still reigning beyond compare.

How island hopping can be depressing.

In three days I have been to three different cities in three different islands in three different modes of transportation. To make it clear enough that's off to the city of golden friendships by land, then to the queen city of the south by sea and finally to the city of smiles by air. From Iligan City I travelled to Cagayan de Oro then to Cebu and lastly to Bacolod.

 And then back.

My classmate and I were chosen to represent MSU-IIT in the 72nd Philippine Institute of Chemical Engineers National Convention (PIChE) National Student Congress 2011 Quiz Show in Colegio San Agustin in Bacolod City. They chose us because apparently my classmate is the top student in our class and probably because I often win in quiz show contests at home. There are three members in a team and our third member, a year behind us, once had an overall grade point average of 1.0000 (extend decimal place indefinitely). That just goes to show we were the best that the department could possibly gather.

But we lost.

My classmate and I have joined this for the second time already and the results are, well,the same. Last time we finished 8th place among 11 teams. This time, Tadaaa!! The 9th. Yes, we did not prepare because we thought, without ever learning from the first experience, that stock knowledge is enough. The next thing we realized, after hearing the questions, our stock knowledge is nowhere to be found. It had escaped us and the flow of thought balked at the sight of problems solvable in 120 seconds. One problem especially left me feeling queasy. It asked about the pH of a 0.5 M sodium acetate solution given that the hydrolysis constant is 5.8x10^-10. I went on getting the pH by equating the hydrolysis constant to the ratio of x² over (0.5)(1-x) and assuming x is very small compared to unity, neglected it in the denominator and went on solving for x. This is the concentration of the hydronium ions in the solution, and the negative logarithm of this is the pH. Brilliant.

Big mistake. Sodium acetate is not an acid and x should represent the concentration of hydroxide ions, not hydronium ions. Thus, the negative log gives the pOH and not pH. My answer, 4.77 is therefore utterly wrong. It should have been 14-4.77 or 9.23.

What's so depressing with this is that this is the first time in my quizzing history that I mustered the effort to solve a problem. Usually I leave that to my teammates and they leave the general knowledge and recalling skills to me. But when this question came I felt like having the moral responsibility whatever to answer it. I came a subtraction close but a concept too far. Depressing. The same thing happened to me last year when the question asked for the name of molecules that are mirror-images of one another, that is, chiral. I answered stereoisomers, but it is the larger group. I knew the question asked for a sub-group of stereoisomers but my memory failed me that time. I contemplated suicide after hearing the answer. Guess what, it's enantiomers.

Probably the reason I ace quiz shows at home is because the questions have categories. General Engineering, Physics, Chemistry, Biology, Current Events, Literature, and General information. In the student congress the categories were Gas Absorption, Reaction kinetics, Heat Transfer, Chemical Engineering Thermodynamics etc. I have always told everyone that I am not the brightest in the Chemineering majors and excellence in these fields almost always determines the winners of this competition. Nevertheless, it is flattering to be chosen again to represent the school. My classmate and I will be graduating this year and I have one advise to the subsequent quizzers:  Prepare and overprepare. The pattern of the questions recurs every year and the instructors have a copy of them.  Our fault is that we were too lenient with ourselves. We did not participate to win but only for the purpose of being there. As for me, I was too preoccupied with our thesis project left behind and too mindful of the expenses. I retained the feeling of being compelled to join the competition up to the competition itself, sulking over the fact that we cannot join the convention proper because nobody wants to pay our registration fee of 3,000. Not even us.

 I admit that we did our best, but only the best of what we were able to prepare. We did not mark our ways with excellence, so success was not able to follow after us. That must have spelled the difference. Sad, probably but on the brighter side, I can always sleep.

I have Big herr.

After 48 years ,I went back to ICC where I had my memorable On-the-Job training. For unknown reasons, I always forget to get my certification that I worked there for 320 hours. Finally, when the circumstances of graduation (as if everything's laid out already) compelled me to get my certificate, I let out a sigh and headed back to the cement plant. I was somehow excited with going back there. I was sure the guards would give me a hard time before I could enter their premises and when I finally did, the first statement of the employee and community relations manager (Oy, Mam Lolits), joking, was "May gani gipasulod ka sa guard. Taas na kaau kag buhok." ("You're lucky the guard let you in. You need a haircut.") She asked me if I'm available after five pm. I said yes. She said it's a good thing because by then they could accompany me to the barber shop. 

I have to get my certificate. I grinned.

I don't need a haircut. My hair is just BIG. However, I'm doubtful sometimes, especially when I feel like I'm not going to fit inside a room because my hair won't allow me or when I go to school and my hair seems to tell everyone that I haven't taken a bath. Or worse, when people say my hair is obscene and should put on underwear.But I went on liking my big hair. BIG, curly hair. It protects me from drizzles (Yes, it's waterproof.) and it gives others the impression that either I am a contemporary Einstein or a former charge of a mental institution at large. Either way, I do not fit in and I stand out. 

Recently, my friend Tamsi gave me a headband. That's it. I'm gonna keep my hair.

Why he is the G.I.

I knew he would win. Grabbing the title was one of the two things I was certain he would do (the other one is make me swoon). But the pageant night was not for his keeping. My friends told me he looked like a ghost one time, then literally ugly the next. His make-up was so garish I almost thought he was going to stage a theatrical act. And God forbid the barong which would make him complement a casket and make us all attend a burial. To speak plainly, he did not look good on stage. (At least for those who were about 10 meters away from the spectacle. Was it the lighting? Or the make-up?). Ironically, my eyes always see him as an impeccable creature. But even this failed.  I almost agreed with my friends except probably for the belief that I was certain the judges would never base their scrutiny on what they see on the stage alone. They have to see something far more relevant—the simplicity that makes him who he is.

I think Alberto Lucas Belgera neither became the Ginoong Inhinyero 2011 because he sashayed across the stage, displaying his bare torso for everyone to see nor because he proved to us that men could wear that much make-up and actually be men.  Aside from considering that there can be no other winner, Alberto Lucas won because of two things: First, he won because he was not meant to be on that stage.

Being a Ginoong Inhinyero is not a stage presentation. It is actually what is not on the display that matters. Our impression on whoever wins the title is not shaped by the way they walk or project. It is how we know them in their everyday life as an engineering student that we believe in them, or in any case, ascertain that they will actually win.

Alberto Lucas is that ginoo. I don’t know him personally but I would base my conclusion on what I observe from afar. He looked ugly with make-up because he is infinitely better-looking without it. He was diffident and ungraceful with extremely embellished costumes because he is not a celebrity who is comfortable with what others insist as fashion but an athlete who is content with a loose T-shirt and a pair of pants and pull the look that could make girls and pa-girls die with longing. (The bag pack is a perfect complement, by the way). He was unsure with choreographed movements because it was his nature to move unpredictably when he plays. I noticed that he doesn’t care what the hell happens to him as long as he could steal that ball or deliver that spike. Moreover, his was not the best projection on stage because he suppressed his wide grin—the very thing that made him a chick magnet. (Sorry to descend to cliché. Not that I am a chick. Ha ha). In fact, the rare shining moments he had were on occasions when he showed his true self by smiling at his ECE fans with that distinctive smile. (I swore I saw the Cheshire cat).  It was probably on these instances where the judges were enlightened with their choice. Here is a man who presents himself with all the flamboyant effects, yet here is also a man who could epitomize the Ginoong Inhinyero without the same.

                

I repeat: He won the title because he lost the pageant. The judges, if ever they had the same notion, have had to be very observant. I guess they had seen beyond the costumes, glitters and spectacle. After the event, in an ordinary day, they saw the simple Alberto Lucas sharply contrasted to men with overdone hair, body-fit clothing, ubiquitous shades and condescending air. This is of course based on my own observations, and the truth might be otherwise. However, other people testify of the same and I can assure you there are a lot of them. This alone is proof of his charm.

                

Probably you could attribute it to the eyes but his expression is one of humility, something not hard to see in him. I just hope that this achievement would not take that away. After all, it was this expression of humility that was his ticket to becoming known. After his win, it is his job to prove and keep it. 

               

This brings me to the second reason why he won: A lot of people believed in him. Sure, other departments cheered for their bet by bringing in streamers with their departments’ names. But it was only his ECE family who brought in streamers with his name blatantly spelled out. They did not just cheered for their department, they cheered for him. I have not seen any previous contestant who had this kind of support from their course mates. They seem to have this consensus among them and their concerted efforts showed in the results.

Gratzness, Alberto Lucas. I have always believed that competitions such as these are of no importance. Nada. The reason is because the title doesn’t impose any responsibility or if there is one, it is not so defined. Glory would not be worthwhile without the attached burden. Yet now it occurred to me that somehow this is a test of your character. You don’t have to save the world by being the G.I. or do anything for that matter except for one thing—improve for the better and stay humble. Do not even attempt to become a model student. Sure, COE students admire people but they are never constrained by emulating role models because they go beyond. The Ginoong Inhinyero was not meant to produce an ideal COE student. Originally, it was meant for the thrill of seeing good-looking boys on stage. But here you come letting people see that you could actually win by looking better without the stage. That of course is desirable, since the glamour of the stage is only fleeting. What matters is everything else.  

                

I have bothered to write this all up for no reason at all. Or shall I say for a reason completely irrelevant to you. I do not mean that you live by other people’s expectations. That is just unfortunate. No other person knows what you ought to do except yourself.  Nonetheless, all this stranger wants is for you to heed his unsolicited advice.            

[01.29.11]

Of velociraptors and tyrannosaurs

It's not something to be proud of. Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton and its sequel, The Lost World has been there for decades and I've only read them recently. However, it did not diminish my amazement. It's like being a child again. Eras ago, when I was still a child (probably even before these dinosaurs), I would often wonder about these strange creatures. Phenotypically, we might be relatives. That was probably why.

The writing wasn't phenomenal but for Crichton's creation, Ian Malcolm. The assertive mathematician who specializes in chaos and complexity theory became endeared. He is, to quote, "a gadfly who stings the plot to life," providing the passages I love to quote. It was only Malcolm who appeared in both novels. (Dodgson of course, but for purposes of bias I dare not include him.) Of course Sarah Harding is incredible (JZ would be fascinated with this superwoman) and the kids, what can I say, they are always part of the marketing ploy.

My favorite aspect of the book is how it provides deep insights about history, culture, and life in the context of extinction and survival. In this way, the book touches upon the enigma that is human existence and its cessation. Coupled with disgusting and tales of gore (evisceration is ubiquitous), the books are indeed riveting. At least for me, I can completely relate to the Gaussian distributions, computer interfaces and so on. For others, it may well be regarded as another one of the avenues for learning.

Yes, you're right. I am. So?

Romans, countrymen, friends and lovers. I do realize that the consequences of my actions lately include resisting an intense desire to cover my face upon entering the engineering building and being the object of revulsion of certain individuals. I am prepared in anyway, if my simple admiration would lead to cataclysmic outcomes. But even so, I do believe, and so does any sensible individual, that I do nothing wrong in the context of placing the object of my admiration to ignominy or public consternation. He remains, with or without my existence, an individual of indubitable integrity and honor. I take solace in the fact that we, from the moment I saw him until I accidentally managed to have my picture taken with him, are strangers and will remain strangers as far as the cosmos is concerned. If by any chance a hint or even a shadow of an acquaintanceship looms, I will welcome it without feeling anything like what a hiker feels after surmounting a major hurdle on his treacherous trek towards a picturesque mountain.

If for my welfare my friends will advise me to cease such publicity knowing that I can never compromise my own valuable integrity which I have built and strengthened since time immemorial,  I can only thank them. But forgive my vanity. This wouldn't last for long. Follies are a luxury for me, sometimes.

And to you, lucky individual, whom the universe showered favor by allowing me to have such eyes for you, I only ask that you wouldn't mind. And I mean it literally.

I am overreacting, of course. Duh. It's just a crush. It just goes to show that I'm normal.

Abnormally normal. Ayeee...

(Because of the hype on plagiarism, the first sentence is inspired by the speech of Marcus Brutus in the play Julius Caesar by William Shakespeare. Just in case. )