Julia Ward Howe's Mother's Day Proclamation

I stole this from this site. It reminds me of Grace Monte de Ramos' Brave Woman.


Julia Ward Howe's Mother's Day Proclamation

Julia Ward Howe (1819-1910) was a poet who co-published the anti-slavery newspaper "The Commonwealth" with her husband, Samuel Gridley Howe. In 1861 she wrote the words to "The Battle Hymn of the Republic," which became the recognized theme song of the Union during the Civil War. After the war Howe continued writing, became active in the woman's suffrage movement and advocated world peace. In 1908 she became the first woman elected to the American Academy of Arts and Letters.

Here is the original, pre-Hallmark, Mother's Day Proclamation, penned in Boston by Julia Ward Howe in 1870:

Arise then ... women of this day!
Arise, all women who have hearts!
Whether your baptism be of water or of tears!
Say firmly:
"We will not have great questions answered by irrelevant agencies,
Our husbands will not come to us reeking with carnage,
For caresses and applause.
Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn
All that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy, and patience.
We, the women of one country,
Will be too tender of those of another country
To allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs.
From the bosom of a devastated Earth a voice goes up with
Our own. It says: "Disarm! Disarm!"
The sword of murder is not the balance of justice.
Blood does not wipe our dishonor,
Nor violence indicate possession.
As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil
At the summons of war,
Let women now leave all that may be left of home
For a great and earnest day of counsel.
Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead.
Let them then solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means
Whereby the great human family can live in peace,
Each bearing after his own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar,
But of God.
In the name of womanhood and humanity, I earnestly ask
That a general congress of women without limit of nationality
May be appointed and held at some place deemed most convenient
And at the earliest period consistent with its objects,
To promote the alliance of the different nationalities,
The amicable settlement of international questions,
The great and general interests of peace.

Almost Pinoy

It says "FeiLuBin xiao tian bao" which roughly means "Philippine small sweet bread." They may look like pandesal but they don't taste like pandesal. Don't be fooled.

These are some of the things that reminded me of home. The pictures of the DVDs were taken in my suking pirated DVD shop back in TieLing. The pandesal was part of breakfast with Troy during my 2-week stay with him in Beijing.

Rica Peralejo, is that you?

Tonight while working on my thesis, I decided to turn on the TV to subconsciously soak in some Chinese. I haven't been studying since the HSK and I thought that I should find ways to improve my Chinese while being busy with the novel. I feel that I simply do not have enough time for everything so I need to multi-task a bit (albeit sometimes subconsciously).

After channel-surfing for a while, I found a Chinese Rica Peralejo. Note that the set is also straight from Eat Bulaga. Chinese primetime TV isn't that different from Pinoy primetime after all. I'll definitely keep you posted if I see a Chinese Mulawin.

*I'm posting this for the third time and it better works now or I'm cursing all the Rica-look-alikes in the world.

On 'Kawil' and Why I Shouldn't be Called a Malate Writer

Everyone knows how thrilled I am to have my short story "Kawil" turned into a play and staged in DLSU. You may click this for pictures and other mindless discussions on it. I'm hoping for reviews though. Basically because I like reading about anything that has myself in it. Yes, I'm vain that way. I'm sure you've already figured that out.

Many people thought that because I'm a writer and I'm from La Salle, I must have been a part of Malate at some point in my college life at least. Let me now try to give you a brief history of my college writing life and how nothing can be farther from the truth.

I wrote "Kawil" in 1998. I was 18, a college freshman. It remains to be my only short story in Filipino. In fact, I would not have written it if not for a midterm requirement for FILITWO (Filipino 2) in which I got a 4.0, thank you very much. I later on submitted it to the 14th DLSU Literary Awards and it would tie for second place with Johannes Chua's short story. There was no first place winner. I was by then a sophomore.

That was how it made it to the Malate Literary Folio. Because of the Litawards, I mean. I was never a writer for Malate. I tried out for the magazine in my freshman year but did not make the cut. I was depressed for a few weeks then joined the Writers Guild. Perhaps the Malate rejection played a significant part in my young writer's life because this was the time when I threw myself full force on anything that would improve my writing. The same year as the Malate rejection, both my essays won in the annual litawards, first place and honorable mention.

If I have to mention names, I should mention Rommel Fuentebella, WG's president when I was a freshman. It might have been because he was friends with Nuna or it might have been because he saw the raw potential in me, but it was him who took me under his wing and painstakingly read and critiqued my works when I didn't even think my works were worth anyone's time to read. In my junior year, I would be WG's president and hopefully had helped other young writers find their way somehow.

Thus, the only articles I had that were published in Malate were in the Litawards issues. This actually proved fatal during my junior year when I was nominated in the Student Awards as The Best Creative Writer. One of the judges pointed out that I had too few publications in Malate, it being the university's official literary magazine and all. This was already after the awards night so I wasn't able to defend myself anymore. Nobody won, by the way. I then wondered briefly if they even noticed that I had national publications. Those, apparently, were not enough. I had to have published more in Malate.

So there. Please don't say that I was a writer of Malate because I never was. It might have caused me certain things (awards, for instance, and I looooove awards. I'm needy that way.) but if there's any organization that should take credit or criticism for the writer that I've become, it's the Writers Guild and not Malate.

This might seem like a bitter entry to some but let me assure you that it's not. I just thought I would finally clear things up to everyone who has assumed and/or wondered about me and Malate.

I Am Not Happy by Paulo Coelho

 I was chatting with Evonne yesterday after about 14 years (more than half of our lives!) of not seeing nor hearing from each other. We were classmates in grades 5 and 6 and since I was a school-hopper, we never really got the chance to catch up on each other after grade school graduation except for maybe a couple of letters during the first few years. She's now based in Shanghai and we planned to meet up once I get my ass down there. Anyway, I got this article from her blog. Although Paulo Coelho is not exactly one of my favorite novelists, I found the article quite interesting, thus the repost. You may read her blog (which in my opinion is also very well-written) by clicking this.


I am not happy
by Paulo Coelho

A comment that is very often heard in interviews is: “ ... and now that you
are a happy person ...”, which provokes the immediate reaction: “Did I say I was
happy?”

I am not happy, and the quest for happiness as a principal
objective is not part of my world. Of course, ever since I can remember, I have
done what I felt like doing. That is why I was admitted three times to a
psychiatric clinic, spent a few terrifying days in the dungeons of Brazil’s
military dictatorship, and just as quickly lost and won friends and girlfriends.
I walked down paths that, if I could turn back, I might avoid today, yet
something always pushed me forward, and it certainly was not the quest for
happiness. What interests me in life is curiosity, challenges, the good fight
with its victories and defeats. I bear many a scar, but I also carry with me
moments that never would have happened if I had not dared beyond my limits. I
confront my fears and moments of loneliness, and I think that a happy person
never goes through this.

But that is of the least importance: I am
content. And contentedness is not exactly a synonym of happiness, which to me
seems like a dull Sunday afternoon without any challenges, just rest that in a
couple of hours grows into tedium, the same evening television programs, the
prospect of Monday waiting with its routine.

I mention all this because
I was surprised by the long leading article in one of the most prestigious
magazines in the United States that is normally dedicated to political matters.
The theme was: “The science of happiness: is it in our genetic system?” Aside
from the usual things (tables of happier or less happy countries, sociological
studies on man’s search for a meaning to life, eight steps to finding harmony),
the article includes some interesting observations that for the very first time
made me see that I am not alone in my ideas:

A] - countries where
income is under US$ 10,000 a year are countries where the majority of the
population is unhappy. However, it was discovered that from that figure upwards,
monetary difference is not all that important. A scientific study conducted on
the 400 richest persons in the United States shows that they are only slightly
happier than those who earn US$ 20,000. The logical consequence: of course,
poverty is something unacceptable, but the old saying that “money does not bring
happiness” is being proved in laboratories.

B] – happiness is just
another of the tricks that our genetic system plays on us to carry out its only
role, which is the survival of the species. So, to force us to eat or make love,
it is necessary to add an element called “pleasure”.

C] - however happy
people say they are, nobody is satisfied: we always have to be with the
prettiest woman, buy a bigger house, change cars, desire what we do not have.
This is also a subtle manifestation of the instinct of survival: at the moment
when everyone feels completely happy, no-one will dare to do anything different
and the world will stop evolving.

D] therefore, both on the physical
plane (eating, making love) and on the emotional plane (always wanting something
we do not have), the evolution of humanity has dictated one important and
fundamental rule: happiness cannot last. It will always be made of moments, so
we can never get comfortable in an armchair and just contemplate the
world.

Conclusion: better forget this idea of seeking happiness at any
cost and look for more interesting things like unknown seas, strangers,
provocative thoughts, risky experiences. Only in this way will we live our human
condition to the full and contribute to a more harmonious civilization at peace
with other cultures. Of course, everything has a price, but it is worth paying.

Life with Athletes

Being around athletes 24/7 made me notice that athletes have a certain walk. Male athletes, at least. It's like their arms are too long, or their shoulders too wide so their arms fall in a unique way. I'd always found something weird with the way athletes swing their arms while walking even before I came here but I thought this was just particular to basketball/volleyball players. Now I've made the conclusion that there is, what I would now term as, an athlete's walk.

Everyday at 4 in the afternoon, the players work out at the gym inside the compound. I've been meaning to go with them. I've even worked out a schedule in my mind. But as usual, the bed seems much more inviting than the treadmill.

Everyone always comments on how little I eat. Come on, I sit in front of the computer and laze in bed the whole day reading or sleeping. How can I even compare to them athletes? For the record, I think I have a big appetite which is somewhat hindered by the use of chopsticks. I always forget to bring my spoon and fork to the cafeteria. I'll bring them tonight and eat a lot. Hmp.

Another thing that being in close proximity with the team members entails is getting to know behind-the-scene controversies within the team. I'm now privy to a love triangle currently going on under my nose and I'm only too happy to observe the soap operatic plot. No I won't be writing about it. At least not until I have more details. :p

I've started working on my thesis again. This is good news. Somehow, the knowledge of the deadline looming over me is enough to scare me into writing. As much as I miss school, I do not want to take refresher courses which is what I'll have to do if I miss my deadline.

And now off to bed for my afternoon nap...

This is Home for Now

I'll be staying with the team in this semi-hotel for a little less than a month more. I love the fact that my room gets cleaned every single day without me having to lift a finger, that I turn the aircon on and off and not worry about electric bills and that if there's anything wrong I can just open my door and yell, "fuwuyuan" and somebody would come running to see what I want. I'm spoiled rotten....