A todos mis colegos; adios y muchisimas gracias!

THE FINAL ENTRY on this blog won't end without a punch:


A - nd the last prose I will wholeheartedly write is

D - ogs can fly with yellow plastic wings

I - n the ocean whilst fishes profusely piss

O - ver the crimson firmament with kings,

S - aved and finished at last with cyber writings.



Muchisimas gracias.

A todos mis colegos; adios y muchisimas gracias!

THE final entry on this blog won't end without a punch:


A - nd the last prose I will wholeheartedly write is

D - ogs can fly with yellow plastic wings

I - in the ocean whilst fishes profusely piss

O - ver the crimson firmament with kings,

S - aved and finished at last with cyber writings.



Muchisimas gracias.

This is how it should be

The last three topics tackled in our colloquia were politics, media and military. It seemed to me that it just made my uncontrollable giggle suffer because of the stolid arrangement and uncolorful discussion of the matter. The penultimate cry in my tears wanted me to cover my body and wrap myself a straight jacket leaving the colloquium. It was the same scenenario I felt when we were talking medicine last week. But due to my deference for the arrangers, I sat down and listen like the absence of the air.


Until the roof of tediousness came crashing down, I just took short notes and stayed outside. The death's final recital from the underground, tha't all I heard. But off the program, media and politics are the sprints of media corruption including motley facets like the military destabilizing the administrative forces. Actually there are terms for media corruption or payoffs to journalists that are used in some article in the news stand. Here are those various terms in corrupting the media.


Blood money

A payoff to ensure that a story or cricle article is killed or else slanted in the briber's favor before publication.


Bicycle gang

Refers to the contacts of politicians in television news desks who ensure that video footage of candidates barnstorming in the provices is circulated to the different TV networks by a messenger riding a bike.


Hao siao

A derogatory term used to refer to pseudo-journalists, those not employed by a reputable news organization but pass themselves off as journalists in order to cash in on the payoffs and bribes made by news sources, particularly during elections.


Orbit

Like planets revolving around the sun, reporters also make the rounds of offices, particularly the police stations, to get their weekly payola.


Smiling money

Cash that is given to reporters or editors for no particular reason except to create goodwill between a source and the journalists.


Tigbas

Cebuano for "cut," used to refer to a hatchet job.


Warik-warik

A Cebuano term used to describe unscrupulous people; to journalists in the provinces, these are the counterpart of Manila's hao siao.


And now what is it you pay when there is nothing to say?

-lyd

Was it the star, your chocolate fantasies, or my shadow?

Music, sports, fashion and hey business!
Peeping through the doorknob from choco-vanilla eyes,
I saw sunshine butterflies with cinematic faces.
Felt the cobblestone streets like slices of mood music.
Were you there standing by the door looking for a star?
The star has just faded away, past midnight, dead in the gallows.
A new face rose from the Betty-boop neck, it was turned.
Drinking from a frappe mocha cup with Audrey Hepburn,
Serene as the morn, alive and exposed- brakfast at Tiffany's.
My sprting chances to meet Lebron, Ming and Duncan
Went ape my imagination splattering the room- ja 'mon!
And what about walking marionettes and fame?
40 minutes was enough to wear skins and get naked.
And hey business, the only thorn among the roses!
I beseeched and wrote him down, "are you gay?"
Yes, said he in the late afternoon of March, 20th day.
After the peeping, Mister, let me see the hole.
Who were there romanticizing you eyes?
Was it the star, your chocolate fantasies, or my shadow?

There was a Call-low-quium

Conversations on medicine filled the atmosphere with room temperature of scientific interrogation and scientific matter only. This was the first time that pharmaceutical revelation delivered
itself with fruits of knowledge and experience of the speaker sharing her thoughts and relationship in dealing and handling medical practitioners. All have their pouches opened to queries, even illogical ones were restored to make a big splash, that in my opinion, must be kept unasked. Damn if this will be the flow, I won't be listening and just play my guitar instead! Anyway, the topic was quite interesting but audience didn't love it back. As much as I would like to say something about medicine and the colloquium, I'd just feel the motion of love and cognizance.


The colloquium was unprepared.
The colloquium was good.
The colloquium was informative.
The colloquium was suave.
The colloquium was tedious.
The colloquium was them.
The colloquium might hate me.
The colloquium was the colloquium.
The colloquium, there was.
There was a colloquium.

The Glass was a city and the World was naughty

Phisolophy, ecadution, and raliteture. These were the first batch of topics discussed at the Kapihan lounge yesterday. I intentionally, before you react, chose these topics to infuse indispensable principles, creative flames, and learned lessons in the pedagogical stay of students in the academe. Of course, the revolution I want to embark on, look I murdered the solid array of letters of each word I mentioned in the introduction. Nonsense? No! But nonsense of you if you bury the tradition and smoke away ancient learnings of great thinkers and lack creativity or scarcity of originality- personal copycat sneaker! Take existentialism as an energy drink to refuel the essence of philosophical bindings to contemporary teachings. Beyond the Universal- the transcendental destiny to perfection is what the individual sees to attain union with God, or not with God. Philosophy, education, and literature are cyanide dreams, jagged realities. No filter papers teetering sawdust explanations, because the answer is within your heart.


And as for literature, take this;


The Glass was a city and the World was naughty


Overjoyed. Overruled. Over the bright lights of tears.
My profoundest apologies from the underground
Shaved the grassy filaments in a descent boulevard.
And the whistling wind filled the empty glass a sad happiness,
Losing glitters, losing waters, losing pain and spilled
Me more milk and milk and urine, from the lactating nails.
Blood was the urine and milk streaming heavily and naughtily.
Pissing was art, lactation was quasi-science and she told me-
The Glass was a city and the World was naughty.

Old school rule, a code to journ surface

Is steady performance a prolific story of the old school? Writing is a passion, not a mobile 30-minutes- of- fame exploiting the deliverance of vast messages from various angles stressed out by editors and the stand of the paper. The ripe-old age of the fundamental mode of writing speaks under the blankets of truth, it does not follow the plunge of contemporary news editors though the basics stays right there, but campus journalism is continuously strangled tight by passive voices, basically ineffable truth that must have been spoken out profusely.


Like a contract and if it were designed to call for justice of freedom, editor draws the dotted line for an absolute agreement of the issue; writers push to write, not use name to bite. Therefore the issue of campus journalism must fit like a glove in order for young writers to put their heart and soul on the marketed life of journalism. They, however, hold the touchstoned magnetism in controling and filtering both the negative and positive sides of stories. The home of journalism embarks on the campus exercising the modals of expressions, style, principles, genres, figures (factual results and students' resources) because of its pedagogical studies infused therein.



A democratic body utters everything the paper adheres and resonates from the bizarre to the specific, yet unicameral decision of the sounding reality of objectivity. Amid ethical concerns writers abiding by, there are iniquitous topics raised, still instilled and can never be diminished unless they stand by the philosophical attachment of the campus through old school stampede of the journalist's code of ethics dead in the writer's clutches- no spins.



Alive. Define. Survive.
The writers are the subaltern of truth and free will.
Stand tall...tell all!