The Parable of The King Pig

There once a farm that raise pigs.  On one sty there enclosed a herd of swine. One would notice a commotion going on amongst the inhabitant of the corral.

"Within this realm, I am the law!"
One burly boar shouts with a feirce bite on a lowly hog.

When mealtime arrives, every shoat have to give way for him to eat intensely and vigorously did he attack the trough leaving the other poor porker a meager meal.

Six months have passed and the swines had grown three times their usual and the brawny one had become as strong as before.

One morning the gate of the pen opened and every boar were ordered out. The king was last to exit as was in the "order" of things.

"We have a good harvest this year!" said a farmer to his companion.

"This one is the finest.  He will make a good centerpiece for the the king's feast" says the other.

RANDOM THOUGHTS for 10-11-12

Once in your miserable life things will fuck up in your face.  Irregularities do exist.  This life is never a love story, an adventure movie, a sci-fi novel, or a fuckin game show.  This shit blows in your face like an unexpected fart. Suffocating and stinking the shit out of the room.  It is a freaking accident, death toll soars to millions, wounded thousands, traumatized hundreds, sad tens, preoccupied one: ME.  The sudden changes strikes like lightning, electrifying every molecule and burning every sinews, tendons, and bones of your damn body. The time to respond is nil.  You will be stricken, you will feel it, and you my friend is just another casualty.  A victim of a freak accident. Everyone will know you, not by name, but by what freakish event and the funny position you have died .  Your name is not essential.  What is essential is what the mind can perceive as different, indisputably unique, and most of all intriguing.  The mind is a marvelous thing.  Some sharpens it to increase intelligence but stimuli tend to trick it and old age diminish it to oblivion.  It is funny to think that at in our youth we absorb thoughts that we think is essential to our social lives, skills for our occupation, and knowledge of the world for our survival but all these in just a snap of a finger will disappear.  Faster than a tear falling from your eyes, snots falling out your naris, pee from your urethra, and most of all shit coming out Uranus. The irony of a sharp mind is age and eventually death. I  believe in cultivation of thought, good or bad, it does not matter as long as there is a perception and a deep distinction between both.  This has been my belief, always have been. There is no high judgment after death. You are what you have been perceived by others. At the end of your puny life there is none. No immortality of the soul. No garden of Eden.  No 70 virgins waiting.  The end is the end. I have Matchbox 20 playing and is about to end so I leave this shit here. Ill write next time. Oh! Today is October 11, 2012 (10-11-12).  Did not caught that the first time someone brought it up.  It's a slow day for slow brains.               

Happy Martial Law

It is today, 40 years ago, that people disappeared.  Things will never be the same for them.  Some will perish and some will live to tell their story.

It is Martial Law.  Sirens bombarding the ears of the Metropolis while some “junkies” were taken out of a home leaving his crying baby in her cot with his wife clutching tight on his arm receiving a blow to the head from a uniformed man.

We are without rights.  The sun will set today and melt from our eyes, and then darkness.  The shouts will intensify.  The crying intensifies.  The anguish deepening.  The loss quadruple.  The monsters are feeding.  Claws are boring through skin.  Blood are clotting on the pavement.  The time has come for us to say good bye.

Sun is coming.  As morning approaches, the violet-colored sky begins to annoy a gasping prisoner of the night.  Let us be off this dark evening chains upon our wrists and let us breathe.  As the horizon brightens, hopes are rising following the yawning sun.

I am free.  Surely, as the brightness of the sun bursts in the sky, darkness dissipates as well as my chains.  As the warm sun touches my skin, so does freedom.  Am I really free?  For now.  Darkness will fall again in 12 hours and 59 minutes.  Our chains will still chain us.  Fear will terrorize us.  Hope will flee and return in an annoying cycle.  Happy are those who fell during the night.  Hope will never haunt them.

Bong Revilla: Mr. Stickerman Huwag iboto!!!

Isa nanamang walang kwentang batas ang agad-agad na naipasa ng ating pinakamamahal na mga senador, at ito mga kababayan ang helmet law ni Bong Revillame este Revilla.

Kailangan daw po iregister ang mga helmet ng mga kawawang motorista at kung hindi 1,500 pisong tumataginting ang ibubulsa ng gobyerno mula sa karaniwang manggagawang pilipino.  Nangangailangan pong pumasa sa standard ng mga magagaling ang helmet ni Juan at ICC sticker ang tanda ng pagpasa. Nagkakahalaga ito ng 100 piso para sa proseso ng pagsusuri at 1.25 piso para sa sticker. Ngunit ng makahalata naisipan nilang ilibre na lang ang mga pobreng tao. At tulad ng inaasahan dinagsa po ang mga tanggapan ng DTI sa Metro Manila. Merong lumiban ng trabaho na nangangahulugan hindi sila mababayaran ng araw na iyon (No work No pay policy) at nagutom dahil sa haba ng pila. Merong na-wrecker ang mga motor na ang bayad po kapag tinubos ay higit 1,000 piso. Ang kawawang indibidwal naluha nalang sa sama ng loob. Di malaman kung saan kukuha ng pambayad ng pantubos imbis pambayad ng tumataas na kuryente, tubig, at pagkain. 

Tuwang tuwa sa galak ang mga businessman na kaibigan ni Mr. Revilla na naglobby ng batas na ito dahil magkakamal sila ng limpak na salapi kapag ang batas na ito ay maipatutupad sa Agosto. Mapipilitang bumili ng napakamahal na helmet imbis na ipakain nalang sa pamilya nya.  Tuwang-tuwa din ang mga buwaya sa lansangan, meron nanamang rason para makakotong sa mga kaawa-awang motoristang tinitiis ang init at ang ulan makapasok lang sa trabaho, mabihisan, at mapakain lang ang pamilya.

Inisip mo sana Mr. Revilla ang mga kaawa-awang manggawa bago isinalang ang walang kwenta mong batas, at isinaalang alang nyo sana mga respetadong senador ang kalagayan ng pamilya ng mamayan. Ito ang patunay na ang kasawian ng maliit ay kabuhayan ng malaki. Marami po tayong kababayan na gutom at nangangailangan ng kalinga. Inuna nyo sana sila kesa sa batas na ito.

Mr. Revilla, Mr. Stickerman. Masdan mo ang Pinanday mo. Nagartista ka nalang sana at di na nakialam pa sa Pilipinas. Mas hayahay ang buhay namin kung pinagpatuloy mo nalang sana ang alamat ni Panday. Sa susunod na eleksyon wala  sa iyo ang boto ko kasabay ng boto ng milyun-milyong nagmomotor na Pilipino.

Kung Tuyo na ang Luha Mo, Aking Bayan

KUNG TUYO NA ANG LUHA MO, AKING BAYAN
Amado V.  Hernandez
 

Lumuha ka, aking Bayan; buong lungkot mong iluha

Ang kawawang kapalaran ng lupain mong kawawa: 

Ang bandilang sagisag mo’y lukob ng dayong bandila,

Pati wikang minana mo’y busabos ng ibang wika,

Ganito ring araw nang agawan ka ng laya,

Labintatlo ng Agosto nang saklutin ang Maynila,

 

Lumuha ka, habang sila ay palalong nagdiriwang,

Sa libingan ng maliit, ang malaki’y may libangan;

Katulad mo ay si Huli, naaliping bayad-utang,

Katulad mo ay si Sisa, binaliw ng kahirapan;

Walang lakas na magtanggol, walang tapang na lumaban,

Tumataghoy, kung paslangin; tumatangis, kung nakawan!

 

Iluha mo ang sambuntong kasawiang nagtalakop

Na sa iyo’y pampahirap, sa banyaga’y pampalusog:

Ang lahat mong kayamana’y kamal-kamal na naubos,

Ang lahat mong kalayaa’y sabay-sabay na natapos;

Masdan mo ang iyong lupa, dayong hukbo’y nakatanod,

Masdan mo ang iyong dagat, dayong bapor, nasa laot!

 

Lumuha ka kung sa puso ay nagmaliw na ang layon,

Kung ang araw sa langit mo ay lagi nang dapithapon,

Kung ang alon sa dagat mo ay ayaw nang magdaluyong,

Kung ang bulkan sa dibdib mo ay hindi man umuungol,

Kung wala nang maglalamay sa gabi ng pagbabangon,

Lumuha ka nang lumuha’t ang laya mo’y nakaburol.

 

May araw ding ang luha mo’y masasaid, matutuyo,

May araw ding di na luha sa mata mong namumugto

Ang dadaloy, kundi apoy, at apoy na kulay dugo,

Samantalang ang dugo mo ay aserong kumukulo;

Sisigaw kang buong giting sa liyab ng libong sulo

                  At ang lumang tanikala’y lalagutin mo ng punglo!

Listen here:

Ear candy anyone

This is a very good site...www.mp3skull.com

Signs that your life sucks

You are working for an asshole.
You are working with assholes.
People you work with thinks you are an asshole.

Wise and wiser

"A fool doth think he is wise.  A wise man knows himself a fool". Maybe some people should have read this quote or had but had not grasp the idea.  He clothed  himself with pretty things to hide a small and insecure self. He thinks that others are inferior to his class.  Think again man. You are smaller than you think you are.