Lessons of History

I would just like to share this piece of news I got from the upaaToronto. It's really worth sharing.

History Lessons: Very Interesting‏

They used to use urine to tan animal skins, so families used to all pee in a pot & then once a day it was taken & sold to the tannery. If you had to do this to survive you were "Piss Poor" But worse than that were the really poor folk who couldn't even afford to buy a pot. They "didn't have a pot to piss in" and were the lowest of the low. The next time you are washing your hands and complain because the water temperature isn't just how you like it, think about how things used to be.  Here are some facts about the 1500's: Most people got married in June because they took their yearly bath in May, and they still smelled pretty good by June. However, since they were starting to smell, brides carried a bouquet of flowers to hide the body odor. Hence the custom today of carrying a bouquet when getting married.  Baths consisted of a big tub filled with hot water. The man of the house had the privilege of the nice clean water, then all the other sons and men, then the women and finally the children. Last of all the babies. By then the water was so dirty you could actually lose someone in it. Hence the saying, "Don't throw the baby out with the bath water!"  Houses had thatched roofs-thick straw-piled high, with no wood underneath. It was the only place for animals to get warm, so all the cats and other small animals (mice, bugs) lived in the roof. When it rained it became slippery and sometimes the animals would slip and fall off the roof. Hence the saying "It's raining cats and dogs." There was nothing to stop things from falling into the house. This posed a real problem in the bedroom where bugs and other droppings could mess up your nice clean bed. Hence, a bed with big posts and a sheet hung over the top afforded some protection.That's how canopy beds came into existence.  The floor was dirt. Only the wealthy had something other than dirt. Hence the saying, "Dirt poor." The wealthy had slate floors that would get slippery in the winter when wet, so they spread thresh (straw) on floor to help keep their footing. As the winter wore on, they added more thresh until, when you opened the door, it would all start slipping outside.. A piece of wood was placed in the entrance-way. Hence: a thresh hold.  (Getting quite an education, aren't you?) In those old days, they cooked in the kitchen with a big kettle that always hung over the fire. Every day they lit the fire and added things to the pot. They ate mostly vegetables and did not get much meat. They would eat the stew for dinner, leaving leftovers in the pot to get cold overnight and then start over the next day. Sometimes stew had food in it that had been there for quite a while. Hence the rhyme: Peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold, peas porridge in the pot nine days old.  Sometimes they could obtain pork, which made them feel quite special. When visitors came over, they would hang up their bacon to show off. It was a sign of wealth that a man could, "bring home the bacon."They would cut off a little to share with guests and would all sit around and chew the fat.  Those with money had plates made of pewter. Food with high acid content caused some of the lead to leach onto the food, causing lead poisoning death. This happened most often with tomatoes, so for the next 400 years or so, tomatoes were considered poisonous. Bread was divided according to status. Workers got the burnt bottom of the loaf, the family got the middle, and guests got the top, or "the upper crust. " Lead cups were used to drink ale or whiskey.. The combination would sometimes knock the imbibers out for a couple of days. Someone walking along the road would take them for dead and prepare them for burial. They were laid out on the kitchen table for a couple of days and the family would gather around and eat and drink and wait and see if they would wake up. Hence the custom of holding a wake.  England is old and small and the local folks started running out of places to bury people. So they would dig up coffins and would take the bones to a bone-house, and reuse the grave. When reopening these coffins, 1 out of 25 coffins were found to have scratch marks on the inside and they realized they had been burying people alive. So they would tie a string on the wrist of the corpse, lead it through the coffin and up through the ground and tie it to a bell. Someone would have to sit out in the graveyard all night (the graveyard shift.) to listen for the bell; thus, someone could be, saved by the bell or was considered a dead ringer...  And that's the truth....Now, whoever said History was boring ! ! !

Argumentum Ad Misericordiam

I've been listening to the news on TV lately and I've come to one frightening conclusion: it's quite all right for children to watch violence on cartoon networks... Compared to the reality seen on the evening news, anime and superheroes are all sissies and nothing compares to the pathetic stupidity of adults.

Consider the people in the Philippine Congress for example. In a nutshell, the so-called-representatives-of-the-people are up in arms because the Supreme Court has dismissed their filing of TWO impeachment complaints against the Ombudsman. The law states that only one can be filed and these bright guys still insisted on having the complaints passed. Now they're calling the justice branch names like crony of the past president (who put the supreme court members there in the first place) and etcetera... They're even accusing it of creating a constitutional crisis, one that they are actually starting themselves.

A city mayor is seen crying and pounding the table with his fists because he is implicated in the hostage crisis that claimed many lives. He's crying that all the police have ever done was die for the people and so on... all that what he has worked for and the name he created for himself ... are all down the drain because of this accusation that as mayor, he should be blamed... more tears.Duh

Squatters clash with the police and members of the demolition team in a supposed private lot near EDSA. It is known that notices of eviction have been served many times in the past months and still the illegal occupants refused to budge. In a final sign of defiance, they seek the intervention of the reigning popular president to order a halt in the demolition. This is of course done through the watchful media whose coverage is seen worldwide. The president, who is presently in the US on a formal state visit orders a halt in the demolition. The squatters are happy.

The lawyers of the Ampatuans continue to create one delaying tactic after another to postpone the hearing of one of the most gruesome massacres in history. It is clear that for all their millions, the Ampatuans are happy because their lawyers are doing a very good job indeed.

I can't wait for tonight's evening news...and may God forget about Justin Beiber for a while and seriously bless this country. Amen

In Search Of...

I've read so much about friendship, lasting friendship, true friends, and so on, that the grey area seems like an ocean and the islands are spread farther apart. Yet jaded as I am, I've learned a few things about friendship and I constantly sift through the countless acquaintances and relations, always on the lookout for that unpolished jewel that lasts forever. They are not so easy to find you know. The merry mix isn't at all pleasant and they can lead you into so many blind corners. There are friendships that gleam at first and you're blinded by their beauty. Then they fade like a cheap lightbulb. There are those that moisten their lips and kiss your existence with praises. Then they turn into leeches that drop away when sated. However, there are others that blend with the scenery and it's difficult to notice them. Then slowly they bloom and develop depth, never to be forgotten.


Years ago, I met an older woman in Koln whom we all regarded as mother. In the short time we were there, we became very close so that when the time to part came, it was difficult for me. Then she told me something I will never forget. True friends, she said, wherever they are, no matter how far apart, shall remain that. When they meet, they shall simply start where they left off and begin the cycle once again. No gaps. No pretenses and most certainly, no sadness.

I admit that I have acquired some really interesting jewels in my heart's closet and they remain there still, safely tucked away until my last breath. They know who they are, confident in our friendship and needing nothing else. For those who whine away over errant friends, "fake" friends and "f_king" friends, remember only one thing: use or abuse them... and you lose them. Another thing, the moment you demand that they be with you in your time of need, YOU are not a friend and they have become nothing but crutches. True friends come anyway whatever weather in your life.

P.S. So let's stop wasting our jewels. We have to be reminded that we have to HELP OURSELVES FIRST and not rely on those around us to fight our battles for us. That's watching too many cavalry movies.

-From an older blog, "Grey Matter Extensions: Things that go bump between the ears"

The End?

End?

No the journey doesn't end here.

Death is just another path.

One that we all must take.

The gray rain curtain of this world

rolls back and all turns to silver glass

and then you see it...

White shores and beyond...

a far green country

under a swift sunrise.

-Gandalf The Grey

Emptiness

Emptiness is a deviant world where color has no meaning and love is but a memory. Its sky is forever a shade below pale, w/ a paste-up moon hanging on wasted dreams. Its streets are lined with the dried shells of lost hopes, echoing the mournful cries of twisted souls who once dared but lost, tried but failed. Souls of dreamers who took a chance and are thus left chained to nothing but the promise of a whisper.

The Diplomacy of Olympus

How do we deal with people? Better still, how do we deal with people we don't want to deal with in the first place? How much can we take and how much snakes can we keep from bursting out of our mouths so that, like heat-seeking missiles, they find their way into the hearts of these vermin we so passionately hate?

Relax. Pray. Torture your Barbie. Etcetera. No matter, the moment is not without its resbak, the day ends and a new day begins... the circle completed, you have no choice (slave!) but to meet people once again. They are part of life!

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, I worked at an office and one day, a group of visiting kulturati, really, old veterans who have made their mark in the field of arts... comes waltzing in.  Immediately, they scoop up some of our displays, our posters and command one of us to prepare the artifacts they've chosen for transport (not request mind you, command as in, do this peon!).  The resident O.C. that I am immediately swings into action. "Hey! You can't just barge in here and do that..."

And I am immediately put in my place... like the poor little fish stung by the invisible poisonous strings of the Port’ Man O War. "How dare you rebuke us? Is that the way to talk with someone senior? Aren’t you Tagalog, you don't know how to say PO? ... To think I KNOW your parents!" (Great, now not only am I going to lose my job, I’m getting a spanking as well...)

I just stood there absorbing all these sh_t from these older citizens of art Olympus and several thoughts boil in my head... yes, how do we deal with people? Particularly “these” people. The Don Corleone resident evil in my head says "with respect". But doesn't the word respect go together with the word "mutual"? The incredible hulk lurking neath my inner temple shouts “kill! Smash! Destroy!” But the cowardly Peewee Herman that I am says peace bro; she can kill you with those lethal stilettos! Then, the mother-like dweller of my left hemisphere coaxes, diplomacy.

Diplomacy? But isn't that a political word? Isn’t it that it means "compromise" in the real world? I’ve seen it among neighbors, more formidable than the fences that surround them. It is the unspoken “I don't care what you do, so why should you care what I do?”, otherwise called the “dedma” syndrome. I’ve seen it quite often among squabbling siblings, let's do this for mother, she's sick you know...

Ah diplomacy, the glue that keeps the world together. But wait, whatever happened to mutual and respect? Alas, I took the road less traveled. 

Go in peace Peewee and build your own world!

Lest We Forget

The land weeps and bleeds from under my feet, 

yet there are times when I feel nothing. 

No tremors of unrest break out from my heart.  

It's just the purring of contented heartbeats that go 

throb-throb in its usual pace so that I am, 

conveniently alive. 

The visual assault of everyday makes me what I 

regrettably am sometimes

too numb to listen  to the scratching sound of despair. 

Too blind to believe that the tears

are rainfall in a loved one's cheeks.

These, plus the full volume of earphones 

cushion me from all ugliness,  as though beauty

were life's only worthy price.

Alas, I reckon I'd hear my earth's cry very soon

when this heart is still. 

I hear it now. 

Listen with me. 

Please.