Tales From the Moshpit and other Places

STOP POLITICAL KILLINGS NOW!

2007-07-19T02:41:00.000-07:00

“If the bullets of my enemies will trigger them to be happy, so be it in my 21st year”
-Rei Mon “Rambo” Guran

Out of habit, I browsed through my friends list. I caught a glimpse of one of my friend's picture, Rei Mon Guran on his sister's account. Rei Mon, whom we all call Rambo, is a very funny guy. He always cracks jokes and makes fun out of almost anything and anybody even his mom and/or dad. In high school, he kept joking about certain teachers and even our principal but he did not get in trouble because his jokes were so funny they all have forgiven them. Besides, as I think back now, he is probably too smart for them. But I always remember him as the guy who got kicked out of a UPLB dorm because he got caught with a small marijuana plantation out on his window ledge. I remember him for that because no one ever did that as far as I am concerned. He eventually got kicked out of the university though.

Rambo went into the good life (so he said) of killing time with skateboarding, rocking out with friends and deliberately not getting a bath for days on end after his stint at the UPLB. His mother, my sister said (she happens to be one of his closest friends) always complained of his son’s then lifestyle. His father could not do anything about it.

To everyone’s amazement, he suddenly did a turnaround. He went back to school, got excellent grades and actively participated in the social movement. He became a spokesperson of the Aquinas University League of Filipino Students and became widely known in the region for adamantly demanding the government to prioritize social services for the people especially quality education. So much so that at the height of the killing of members of militant groups last year, he was gunned down aboard a bus bound to Legazpi City in Bulan, Sorsogon on July 31 at around 6:30am. After celebrating his 21st birthday the night before, Rambo and his younger sister were about to go to school. They never got there. Followed by a suspicious man for months before, he was finally cornered and killed.

Sitting here writing about Rambo is a rather social task for me. Sad as I feel, as a fellow participant in the social movement, I must uphold the same issues both local and national that he fought and died for. And like the other people who died for the same cause (there are over 650 political killings under GMA rule, 14% of which are youth and students) he did not take things sitting down. Even if he was marked, followed and killed. The ultimate sacrifice was his life.

Who will say that Rambo was a fool for wasting his life on fighting for our rights in the streets? Who will say the same of UP Diliman students Karen Empeno, Sheryln Cadapan and Manuel Merino who were abducted (and feared dead) also last year on June 26 at 2:00 am in Bulacan? Who will say that these people were just clogging the streets, causing traffic and making senseless noise?

No, activism is not merely joining rallies nor raising your fists and cuss the government. Activism is standing for your right to be free from inequality and poverty, to freedom of speech, to know the truth. Activism is not a crime and we are not criminals.

I am writing this not only for Rambo but also for those participating in the social movement, some of whom died and most ready to die for it. I am writing this for the nameless and faceless heroes of our time.

Justice for Rambo!

Stop political killings now!

NOMO el Grande

2007-07-09T10:38:00.000-07:00

So I got a little tipsy last Saturday morning. But that's not the end of the story. Sunday night I drank. Then earlier this afternoon, I drank again. My tummy is quite heavy from all the beer I drank over the weekend. It's not that I am complaining, it's just that I can now attest to the adage that goes "be careful what you wish for, you just might get it." Ha. Now I feel really bloated. But I had lotsa fun. Yeah, it was hella fun. :)

Yeah, I was complaining to one of my colleagues the past couple of weeks that my throat was already so parched from lack of beer passing through it. My wish finally came true over the weekend and it was a bit funny because I was not expecting it. And when it came, it poured. I did not get drunk though. Can't. I have to prepare as much as I can before I get drunk so I won't get drunk-ass fool. That's what I am practicing about, drinking el grande without getting wasted. I got wasted only one time and it was not a pretty sight. If hugging the toilet seat is a pretty sight for you, then maybe we can talk some other time. Yeah, I hugged the toilet because I puked big time. And it was all green or yellow that came out of my digesive system. Not very nice because it was so sour, my throat hurt so bad. But anyway I have to cut this slimy story. I have to get back to work.

Yeah Rock and Roll!

Nomo

2007-07-08T21:26:00.000-07:00

Uh-huh. I don't have anything to sat except that drinking beer at 6am on a weekend makes me quite drunk. Yeah but not drunk ass fool though. Still, made me and Sendang look a little bit silly. We don't get a nightlife these days, so we got a daylife. Who says getting drunk early in the morning is not fun? Ha!

Potchi got fooled!

Of Juvenile Sugar Rush and TIs

2007-07-04T07:31:00.000-07:00

Okay so I haven't been in the moshpit for at least four months.I was a regular mainstay of the UP Fair's pit from 2001-04. Back then I still have a high tolerance for sweaty people's scent and antics. I can stay in the pit for hours on end and don't complain. I got socked in the head numerous times, kicked with steel-toed boots, squashed against the stage railings mercilessly and almost bounced around like a limp beach ball. I even made friends.I guess being younger made me sort of understand such juvenile antics.

But this year's Fair really made me realize that I might already be too old for the pit. Moshers nowadays go as young as 11 or 12. Yeah, they are the ones whom the older kids throw around. They are far easier to carry around I guess. And they have far more energy to waste. I can attest to that. They really can stay alive for 10 hours, energy not waning a notch. And with that energy, you can never win. Last year, I almost got into a fight with a group young boys who were flailing their limbs to the tune of Sugarfree's "Hari ng Sablay" like they were the only people in Sunken Garden at 3:30am. I got mad because I got hit several times and they looked like they didn't care. Besides, the performers weren't even hardcore so I was like "Dude, you can slow down. It's just Sugarfree." But I guess they had a sugar rush courtesy of Ebe Dancel. Well, a matter of preference maybe.

And there are also the TIs. TI as in Tropang Itim. No, I don't have problems with them because once upon a time I also went through the same "Black Phase." It's just that looking at them is so much fun. I always get amazed by the creativity of these kids with their costumes. At this year's Fete de la Musique, I saw a kid wearing a ruffled long-sleeved flannel shirt, black trousers and a tie. He looked like he was ready to hit the coffin. But it was unique as hell. I even gave him props personally. I wanted to take a photo but I didn't have the cam with me. I also saw a girl looking exactly like Amy Lee. She was a very beautiful girl and very goth. I almost thought I saw blood trickle down the side of her mouth. Well, it's all good. Next time I'll remind myself to take some photos so I can post it up here.

This year I had an entirely new experience in the pit. But that's another story...

Dammit It's Still an Hour More Until End of Shift

2007-07-03T13:55:00.000-07:00

And I don't know how to stay awake. I can't comprehend anything the trainer is saying. I can only nod to him as a (fake) recognition of understanding. Ha! I'm getting good at faking...

Maiden Mayday

2007-07-03T13:03:00.000-07:00

So this is the first blog for this spot. I am not much of a big fan of blogging but since I have some time to kill in the wee hours of this morning I decided to broadcast a handful, albeit quite random, thoughts coming from my arguably worn out mind. Working the night shift is pretty much a tiresome thing to do so here I am, trying to sound chipper when in fact I am already a few blinks away from a sound sleep. In fact, I am half asleep already. If you can see me right now, you will see me slumped in my chair, clicking the keys but not quite hitting the correct letters to form these words. I just type away to keep me awake actually. It's like when I was still a freshman in college taking Math 17 and Chem 16 together, my eyes were wide open but my mind was shut down. Nothing comes into my brain to process, retain or remember. It was all a grand show of attendance when in fact I was far away inside my mind, probably playing a Linkin Park song silently, religiously.

Yeah, Linkin Park was my med of choice back in 2001. I played Hybrid Theory over and over until I can sing it in my sleep, whenever I was delirious with fever or whenever I write a term paper. But today I cannot keep myself awake...