Please save the youth from UNO

By Jason Paul Laxamana
Urban Kamaru
Central Luzon Daily

If you ever pass by Balibago on your way to SM Clark, you certainly will not miss a certain area somewhere along the Pagcor building where a lot of people—most of them teenagers and young adults—are chatting with one another as if they are a newly founded religion. I used to think it was a new branch office of some call center or something opening itself to agent-wannabes; hence, the proliferation of people my age wanting to earn something. That was until a close friend became part of that cult and tried to lure me into its cleverly structured clutches.


Unlimited Network of Opportunities or UNO is the name of the company. To use a no-connotation term, we can say that it's all about MLM or Multi-Level Marketing—a more credible term than “networking” or worse, “pyramid scam.” When my friend was trying to introduce UNO to me, I at once asked if he's trying to recruit me in a networking company.

Bad college experience

I certainly had my inhibitions, because back in college, my fellow boarders and I were recruited by the son of our landlady to Legacy, which all also claimed to do Multi-Level Marketing business. We were taken to a confident adult who oriented us about how huge amounts of money could come to our grasps by merely investing Php14,000 and inviting others to do the same. The way the whole thing was presented was so believable and overwhelming, such that my big brother and I weren't able to sleep because we were so overjoyed, thinking “This is it! We're going to be filthy rich!”

My mother was KJ then though. When we excitedly told her about the financial opportunity, she quickly aired her protest and told us it was just one of those pyramid scams. Of course, we were offended. We argued back and harshly told her that she was close-minded, and she would definitely fail in life financially by being the skeptic that she was. No matter how hard we fought for it, my mother wouldn't lend us Php14,000.

Our co-boarders had some money though. They decided to volt in their money—seven thousand from one person, and the rest from the other person—so they were able to invest the required Php14,000. They began recruiting various people like their classmates and org-mates in UP Diliman, their high school batchmates, and even their relatives. Alas, not one was fazed with the so-called opportunity. After several failures, they gave up. Bye-bye Php14,000.

It was a good thing my mother didn't lend us money when we demanded for it. After a few weeks, the excitement resulting from the hypnotizing sweet-talk of the recruiter faded away and Koya and I came to our senses: it was a difficult job—too difficult for the average person, you'd think it's designed to be that way—disguised as a legal and easy-money business.

How I was reduced from friend to prospect

I admit—I am not in speaking terms with the friend I am talking about just because of this UNO thing. Let's call him Karl.

He used to work in a call center in Clark. One day, he texted me and other friends, begging for us to come to Pagcor. He also begged us to not ask why, because it was something very complicated. The way the message was constructed, I thought he was having some serious problem, probably related to his girlfriend or his family. Unfortunately, I was busy with other matters at that time so I didn't go.

Concerned and curious, I called him (from landline to cellphone) early in the morning to ask what his message was all about. He sounded very desperate, like he was receiving death threats from a certain gang, or he had accidentally killed someone and had no idea what to do. Unable to explain via phone his predicament, he asked if he could stay in my place for the night. “Sige,” I told him.

Before he even came to my place to sleep over, I found out from common friends that he didn't have the problem I was suspecting he had. Instead, he was recruiting people to try MLM because he joined UNO. To focus on MLM, he quit his call center job without informing his parents. Hence, he sleeps over in the houses of different people including me because he couldn't come home at night. Lest he'll be questioned by his parents about his call center resignation.

When Karl arrived in my place, we were trying to catch up with each other because it has been a long time since we chatted about our lives. After catching up, I asked him what the thing he texted me before was all about. Before him even answering, I emphasized, “Are you trying to recruit me?”

From the persona of a friend, his face turned vendor-like, and told me, “O di ba, ang sama kaagad ng pumapasok sa isip mo kapag nababanggit ang networking? Pero ito, iba ito. Ako rin noong una, talagang duda ako, pero ni-research ko talaga, pati sa Internet, wala akong mahanap na loophole.”

Karl even went as far as assessing my personality. He first flattered me by telling me I am an extraordinarily smart and creative person, but my weakness, he said, was in business; thus, my failure to earn money despite working very hard. “Kilala kita,” he even said. “May tendency kang mag-claim na alam mo na ang isang bagay, pero ang hinihingi ko lang, makinig ka muna. Isang oras lang naman.”

I was also touched by his sentence of emphasis: “Kaibigan kita; yayayain ba kita dito kung alam kong ikakapahamak mo?”

Yet with all that, he didn't even bother listening to my college experience.

The UNO recruitment experience

Fast forward. Despite setting my mind to “I will never join,” I allowed him to take me to the UNO office in Balibago, where I saw members trying to recruit innocent-looking people—probably their friends, co-workers, classmates, or relatives. I even saw a woman dressed like a teacher orienting what seemed like her students about the mechanics of the business.

Karl then introduced me to a person I met and befriended days before at SM Clark. Let's call him Tim. Back when I first met him, he was this shy-looking but cool teenager who knew a lot of people I knew—bands, DJs, and other people. On that night we encountered each other at SM Clark, we talked about plans in life and the difference of burgers from one burger joint to another (since he claimed to want to establish his own burger restaurant someday). I even told him about my friend Karl and his funny attempts of trying to attract me to MLM. With all the laughter and cigarette-smoking, he was a nice and sensible lad, I thought, and I certainly would want to work with him in future projects (he used to have a band, and I used to produce recorded music).

But when I saw him again at UNO, it was as if he was a different person! He spoke like those salespeople you see in department stores promoting state-of-the-art kitchen knives and convenient-to-use floor mops. He wasn't a shy kid after all. He explained MLM like a Master Showman host, joked around sometimes to not bore us, and confidently claimed that in spite of him being just a mere “tambay,” he was already earning as much as Php5,000 per week. He also showed us the products of their company, including strength-enhancing bio-magnetic bracelets worn by ancient royalties and contemporary celebrities, 8-in-1 coffee that boosted energy, and other healthcare and beauty products.


Tim, with the help of Karl, also showed us an AVP explaining UNO and showing the people who had become instantly rich by joining—people of my age having their own cars, lay people casually withdrawing loads of cash from Union Bank, and segments that tried hard to convince the audience that they were a legal business.

Familiar with what they were talking about, thanks to my college Legacy experience, I entertained my mind by identifying what kind of psychological convincing strategy they are using on me. My favorite was that one that used peer pressure (“Huwag niyong isiping pinagkakakitaan namin kayo; kasi, kahit hindi kayo sumama, sasama at sasama pa rin naman yung iba e; ang gusto lang namin, magtulungan tayo sa pag-pag-asenso”).


Trained parrots

In the middle of Tim's talking, a loud tricycle passed by. Unable to continue talking, he pretended to have a grenade in his hand and pretended to throw it to the noisy vehicle. It was the first time I saw someone to that kind of gesture, and I thought it was a cool way to express hatred to loud-engined automobiles.

Minutes after, another noisy tricycle passed by. I saw another recruiter from afar doing the grenade gesture, too. Listening to other recruiters, I heard them tell their prospects the exact words my friend Karl was telling me that morning—about open-mindedness, about financial success, about researching stuff on the Internet, and all that jazz. All of the recruiters know how to write upside down, too, to make their written lecture readable to the target prospect, who is usually seated opposite him.

I even heard someone else say, “Yayayain ba kita dito kung ikakapahamak mo?” That was when disappointment starting growing in my heart. My friend Karl reduced me into an MLM prospect. All the things he said to me, including his knowledge of my need of money to do my dream cultural projects, were all parrot-speak from his fellow UNO members. I would have preferred it if he just told me directly that if I joined, he will be earning. But no, he even used everything he knew about me as a friend just so he could convince me.

However, I didn't join. UNO members say that in case you join, you have to work hard to be successful. It's the same thing outside the MLM business. I am slowly working my way to reach my goals, and it was quite offending for both Tim and Karl to predict that I'll be a failure. “Maraming Pilipino,” they would say, “kayod ng kayod pero hindi pa rin umaasenso.”

My God! I am only 21 years old. Isn't it too early to determine whether I'm successful in life or not? Other people in the UNO office who gave their testimonials were hopeless people, whose last resort was MLM. I doubt though they were earning as much as what they claimed.

Not-so-obvious richness

If they were so rich, how come their office looks very peasant? How come there's no free snacks for the prospects? Why are recruiters dressed casually? How come there's no big promotional event to make their claims more credible? Why was it that when a beggar approached us, they didn't spare him some coins, just to showcase that they were easily earning, and giving a beggar a hundred pesos was no biggie (I, a non-UNO member, was kind enough to give the beggar five pesos)? Why did Tim not pay for our jeepney fare went we decided to go home from SM Clark if he was earning Php5,000 per week, just to show that he was indeed making money comfortably?

Another friend of mine—let's call him Franz—who is witty in his own way, was recruited on a separate session. He asked Tim and other UNO members if they were confident that if he joined, earning money would be a breeze. With big smiles, they said yes.

Franz then said, “Kung ganoon, pahiramin niyo muna ako ng Php7,000 na pang-invest. Pagkatapos, babayaran ko na lang kapag nakaipon na ako. Madali lang naman makapasok ang pera, hindi ba?”

None of the UNO members wanted to lend money. Or was it because they really didn't have money in the first place?

Save thy souls

With that, I call on people: let's save the youth from this legalized scam. Wanting money to sustain their needs and luxurious desires in a period of tough competition, unemployment, and rising prices, they are the easy preys of UNO. The senior members even go as far as discouraging prospects to tell their parents about it because parents will naturally be skeptical about the whole thing.

“Pero sino bang pakikinggan mo?” they would ask. “Silang mga wala naman talagang karanasan sa MLM, o kaming mga may karanasan talaga dito?”

I am not questioning the legality of the business. It could be legal, fine, but not everything legal is for the good. Why are cigarettes sold in spite of the government acknowledging its danger to the citizens' health? If it's dangerous, why is it not banned in the market?

It's the same thing for UNO. In any case, I think I'm really interested in buying one of those bio-magnetic bracelets. I certainly need it in my strength-draining and pressure-laden line of work. After all, I need to work very hard to become successful, right?

I texted Karl when I got home and told him about my disappointment with his treatment of me as a prospect instead of a friend. I told him that I'll be looking forth to the day when he's already rich with UNO. If he does indeed become rich, I told him I promise to blindly obey his every counsel and burn all the books that serve as my guiding principles in life.

Another [controversial] Filipino film at the Cannes Film Festival!

Brillante Mendoza: the “Love Him or Hate Him” Director
'Kinatay' stirs Cannes Film Festival
By Jason Paul Laxamana
Urban Kamaru
Central Luzon Daily


AFTER participating in the prestigious Cannes Film Festival last year with 'Serbis' -- a neorealist film about the Family Theater in Angeles City, San Fernando-born Brillante Ma. Mendoza is again vying for the main award, the Palm d'Or, in this year's festival with a violent film about the infamous “chop chop lady,” a grim character propagated by the news media in the late 90s. 'Kinatay' is also a co-production between Mendoza's Center Stage Productions and France' Swift Productions, the followup co-production after 'Serbis.'

The title of his latest work is 'Kinatay,' with English title 'The Execution of P.' Again written by Armando “Bing” Lao, 'Kinatay' is a story of a newly-married young police trainee who is need of more money to sustain his and his wife's education. To solve his problem, he goes with police officers to a clandestine mission of torturing a drug-addicted prostitute in Manila. Later on, the prostitute is mercilessly beaten, slaughtered, and chopped into bits, the parts wrapped in plastic, and thrown in various parts of Manila.

The movie, like in most Mendoza films, again stars Coco Martin. Mercedes Cabral, who played as the girl impregnated by Coco's character in 'Serbis,' is also back, along with Julio Diaz (also from 'Serbis'), and Lauren Novero (from 'Kaleldo'). The movie also stars Jhong Hilario, Maria Isabel Lopez, and John Regala.

Controversial again

As with last year's Philippine entry to the Cannes, 'Kinatay' has not failed to divide the audience and the film critics. There are those that brand the film as the worst entry in the festival, while others praise it for its unconventional style—no sensationalized scenes, slow rhythm, hand-held camera shots, absence of plot, lack of character development, and minimal lines. This is also partially thanks to the screenwriter, who is known to advocate for real-time scriptwriting.

This recurring style in Mendoza's films is what gets on the nerves of film critics who are not fans of the internationally acclaimed director. They describe 'Kinatay' as something that causes the audience alienation, resentment, and a feeling of having wasted money to see the film. Like in 'Serbis,' these critics also complain about the terrible traffic background sound which they describe as too noisy. Mendoza and Angeles City-residing producer Ferdie Lapuz both defend however that they are only trying to show the reality of noise pollution in the urban Philippines, which I couldn't agree more with.

The boldness of 'Kinatay,' on the other hand, makes it a probable choice in emerging victorious in the festival. Match, a German film distribution company, has picked up the controversial Filipino artwork for international distribution.


No more box office

Mendoza already knows that the films he loves to make aren't the films Filipinos want to see in theaters. That is why he just plans to hop from school to school to screen his films like 'Kinatay' to students, and then talk about the issue featured after the film. Such style of screening makes movie-watching more interactive, and makes education much more exciting than just being stuck in the classroom.

Nievera's 'Lupang Hinirang' - another exaggerated issue, proof of Pinoy shallowness

Conrado De Quiros wrote pretty well about the Martin Nievera issue. The brouhaha about the so-called "desecration" of the national anthem by proud nationalists is proof how insecure Filipinos are regarding their patriotism. They are superficial.

Theres The Rub
Footnote to a false note

By Conrado de Quiros
Philippine Daily Inquirer
First Posted 02:22:00 05/11/2009

I beg to disagree with some friends on this. “This” is the way Martin Nievera sang “Lupang Hinirang” in the Pacquiao-Hatton fight, which has brought him into a brawl with preservers of Filipino tradition.

The fight has so far been lopsided, with many authority figures, from congressmen to historians, knocking him down with a chorus of irate voices.

I myself have no problems with it. In fact I have a couple of reasons for liking it.

The first has to do with the barb that Nievera went the route of show biz by aping the American singers (mostly black) who make the “Star-Spangled Banner” sound like Motown each time an American boxer takes to the ring. Which, as the nastier remarks go, is probably because Nievera is an American at heart and on paper. I leave others to argue where Nievera’s loyalties lie, though given all the open and closet “statehooders” here—Filipinos who long for the country to become a state of the United States—not least among the congressmen, I wouldn’t advise pressing this point too loudly.

But even if Nievera went show biz, what of it? Boxing is pretty much show biz, of the loud and glittery type. And though Nievera did not sing “Lupang Hinirang” traditionally, he did not disrespect it either, to use a word much favored by African-Americans.

The reason Americans do not mind their National Anthem sung like gospel (or its modern reincarnations; I wouldn’t be surprised if it becomes hip-hop one day) is that they are secure in their patriotism. They are secure in their sense of country. They are secure in their loyalty to flag and country. Enough to withstand Jimi Hendrix’s “sacrilegious” interpretation of the “Star-Spangled Banner,” which he did in Woodstock, his awesome guitar blaring out the din of discord in protest against the Vietnam War. That version has since been elevated to iconic status by baby boomers.

Our prissiness with orthodoxy is in fact a symptom of an affliction as worrisome as swine flu. We like revering tradition because we prefer form over content, because we like showing our love of country in ritual rather than in practice. We like to build busts and monuments to the heroes without liking to follow their ideals and actions, which is really the best tribute to them. The religious equivalent of this is that we like to hear Mass and receive the sacraments without liking to live lives that are not given to lying, cheating, stealing and murdering.

It’s like that line in “Lupang Hinirang:” “Ang mamatay nang dahil say iyo” (“to die for you”). I’ve always said that was a perfect, if ironic, commentary on us. We’ve never had problems dying for country, we’ve always had problems living for it. I’ve always suggested—utter sacrilege!—changing it to, “Ang mabuhay ng dahil sa iyo” (“to live for you”).

My second point is: Why on earth should we regard tradition as intractable or unchangeable?

Even the Rock, or the Church, changes. I still remember the time when the Mass, which used to unfold with Latin incantations, gave way to idiomatic English. Or indeed, horror of horrors, when the Gregorian chant gave way to the “Guitar Mass.” Once things that threatened to make the faithful faithless, plain language and (middle-of-the- road) pop (if not rock) are rock-solid orthodoxy in Masses now.

In the case of historical tradition, I should think changes should not just be acceptable to us, they should be welcome to us. I say this because our lack of sense of history—truly notorious in that we can’t even remember the recent past—owes in great part to our tendency to embalm history. To treat it as something dead and gone and remembered only on the historical equivalents of All Saints’ Day. One natural consequence of this is to turn history into sacred text and the heroes into untouchable objects of worship.

I still remember how we used to look at Jose Rizal, Andres Bonifacio, Apolinario Mabini and the other heroes that way, courtesy of high school and college. Something the new wave of historians led by Renato Constantino corrected, turning them into ordinary folk who did extraordinary things in their time and place. No less, or more, than the activists did in their time and place. The process of demystification, or “humanization,” would culminate in historians like Ambeth Ocampo who would make Rizal et al. as contemporary as, well, Nievera’s rendition of the National Anthem.

Which makes me wonder why Ambeth in particular should disapprove of that rendition. I recall that when he was pilloried by purists for “watering down” history with his “pop” version of it, I wrote a column saying that far from detracting from the worth of history, he added to it. Specifically by making the past present, by making the dead living, by making history not history in the idiomatic sense of “we’re outta here” but history in the sense of current events. The power of history lies precisely in its being living history, or a “continuing past,” as Constantino put it. One would imagine that a continuing past uses the idioms or idiosyncrasies of the flowing present. That’s what makes the past worth remembering. That’s what makes the past worth living.

It’s not just that I don’t think Nievera has done any harm by his version, it is that I think he has done much good with it. Anything that hooks the youth in particular of this amnesiac country to their past, even if it feels like a right hook to those who take that past reverentially, is fine by me. History has been known to rock, history has been known to roll. Sometimes, history has even been known to OPM.

In any case, I have a lot of friends who’ve always thought the National Anthem wasn’t “Lupang Hinirang” but Juan de la Cruz’s “Ang Himig Natin.”

The Pacquiao Victory: Pop Icons and National Pride

By Jason Paul Laxamana
Urban Kamaru
Central Luzon Daily

In a certain forum on the Internet, members are arguing on whether Manny Pacquiao's victory against Hampton should be given that much of a deal, to the point of labeling a boxing champ a national treasure. The thing is, in the Philippines, it's no longer a question of whether it should given that much of a deal because obviously, it already has for past years.

Named the “National Fist” of the country, everytime Pacquiao's match abroad arises, the Philippines—from the urban to the rural—is expected to lay still like it's celebrating a holiday. All eyes, regardless if they belong to Muslims, Christians, the poor, or the elite, are on his match, and the unofficial celebration rivals even Ramadan or Good Friday. Crime rate can go as far as zero percent and comes the time Pacquiao knocks out his opponent, we all jump together in triumph like winning a war against an invading country.

I am not here to judge whether this is bad or good. In the country of Barbados, RnB sensation Rihanna is very admired, in that the government decided to appoint a Rihanna Day in its calendar. It's a national holiday! In South Korea, international pop star BoA has been given an award by their President because her musical prominence in both South Korea and Japan is said to have contributed to the easing of the tension between the two countries (South Korea was invaded by Japan in the past).

However, it's slightly different in the Philippines because Pacquiao's victory, whenever it arises, seems to be the most important moment for the Filipinos. Pride rises from the heart to the head, and it makes the Filipinos think, “Damn, I so love being a Filipino.” In fact, I don't think our national hero Jose Rizal has ever causes current Filipinos to feel that way.

Manic with Pacquiao

The reason Filipinos are manic with what some intellectuals call “shallow” bases of pride—such as Charice Pempengco making waves in the US, Manny Pacquiao's winning in matches, or even Apl De Ap's inclusion in the Black Eyed Peas, is because we are a quasi-nation state.

A quasi nation-state is a community (like the Philippines) where the state was formed first before the nation. We know our Philippine history. The Spaniards forced us together into a country, not caring about our cultural diversity, linguistic dissimilarities, and regional competitions. Mindanao, they say, has never been conquered by the Spaniards; that is why they are asserting their “right” to secede from the Republic.

There were several ethnic groups that, in the past, formed several small “nations,” with their own specific languages, goals, songs, customs, etc. These small nations were forced together against their will. And so, trouble begins.

Now that the physical invaders are gone, and now that the Philippines is left to the hands of the natives, we are struggling to make ourselves a nation despite the long existence of the state. Difference is, the state was formerly in the hands of foreigners.

This quest for nationhood is the reason we have the National Bird, National Song, National Dance, National Language, etc. even though for example, the Northern Luzon people do not dance the tinikling, or even though majority of Visayas and Mindanao people used to not speak Tagalog at all.

Each ethnic group has its own precolonial gems of pride—local heroes, folklore, dances, literature, and cuisine—but since we are now one, these are usually dissolved. Lucky are those that get absorbed into the national scene, like the Barong Tagalog and the Sinawali style of arnis, to become Filipino property instead of, for example, Cebuano, Pampango, or Igorot properties.

Vacant positions

Since the Filipino nation is a new thing, we are desperate in finding other sources of Pinoy pride. Kapampangan pride, Ilonggo pride, Waray pride—these are all to be shut off because regionalism is said to be one of the major hindrances to national unity. “We need Filipino pride!” nationalists wail. The government and the educational institution solve this by trying to produce competent contemporary artists in the realm of high art: painting, ballet, classical music, cinema, etc. But honestly, do the masses look up to the high arts? Does even the middle class look up to the high arts? I think they look up more to pop icons.

So when popular cases like Pacquiao, Pempengco, Apl De Ap, or even the Filipino chefs in the White House, reach the consciousness of the masses through local mass media, they rejoice and claim they are proud to be Pinoy, because without them, we feel we are losers in the global arena, with all the bad news and reputations we have—corruption, unlawfulness, tax evasions, scandals, and poor waste management. Other countries like China, Korea, or the US don't care if any of their citizens or expatriates make it big in the Philippines because they appear to be not insecure.

We are insecure!

This artificial, fragile pride of ours is also the reason that whenever someone blasts the Filipinos, we whine like crybabies. Remember the so-called ethnic slur from Desperate Housewives? The 'Family Guy' cartoon and the 'Mr. and Mrs. Smith' movie also had made fun of Filipinos in one of their lines, but they're lucky Filipinos didn't pick them up. And let's not forget the Hong Kong-based columnist.

That's how fragile our national pride is. Atuan me mung bagya, kumiak ne. I am quite sure there are plenty more Filipinos who have wrote negatively about Americans, Koreans, or other nationalities, but I am also quite sure we never heard anything from them—nothing compared to how far we want to go to express our national disappointments. They never made petitions or rallies or whatever, asking for public apologies and stuff. American shows make fun of Koreans, Chinese, Frenchmen, Canadians, and Mexicans more but they don't act like crybabies like Filipinos.

Omitting the Quasi

The transition from being a quasi nation state to being a genuine state is a hard one. It's going against our nature because nationalizing ourselves means extinguishing some items that make up our diversity, as the less powerful ethnic groups are systematically forced to succumb to national policies (that are supposed to be democratic). Remember how Ramadan used to be NOT a holiday for non-Muslims in the Philippines, yet Muslims take a holiday during Christmas because government said so?

This is not unique to Filipinos though. China is undergoing the same process, trying to eliminate its diversity with its “Zonghua Minzhu” concept. “One China,” the People's Republic says. Rebels like the Tibetans are pacified and Taiwan is endlessly being wooed into unifying with China. Only Mandarin is the language in China and the others are systematically reduced to dialects (like in the Philippines). What makes them successful in their nationalizing actions is that they have an authoritarian government which has access to lots of resources.

The Filipino government cannot do that because it is poor and democracy is highly fought for.

East Versus West (Asians and Americans think differently)

By Hana Alberts
Forbes.com

A psychology professor dares to compare how Asians and Americans think.

Richard Nisbett used to be a universalist. Like many cognitive scientists, the University of Michigan professor held that all people--from the Kung tribe that forages in southern Africa to programmers in Silicon Valley--process sensory information the same way. But after visiting Peking University in 1982 and partnering with an Asian researcher, Nisbett found his beliefs challenged.

He embarked on a project to probe the thought processes of East Asians and European Americans. His experiment presented subjects with a virtual aquarium on a computer screen.

"The Americans would say, 'I saw three big fish swimming off to the left. They had pink fins.' They went for the biggest, brightest moving object and focused on that and on its attributes," Nisbett explains. "The Japanese in that study would start by saying, 'Well, I saw what looked like a stream. The water was green. There were rocks and shells on the bottom. There were three big fish swimming off to the left.'"

In other studies Nisbett discovered that East Asians have an easier time remembering objects when they are presented with the same background against which they were first seen. By contrast, context doesn't seem to affect Western recognition of an object.

"I thought there wasn't going to be any difference, and then we kept coming up with these very large differences," says Nisbett, a stately, white-haired man of 67, as we sit in the Upper East Side headquarters of the Russell Sage Foundation. In lieu of his regular salary, he has a grant from Sage to research the nature of intelligence while on sabbatical from Michigan's psychology department, where he has taught since 1971.

Scientists now attach gizmos to people's heads that track eyeball movement; these experiments have confirmed Nisbett's findings, recording that Americans spend more time looking at the featured object in an array while Asians take in the entire scene, darting between background and foreground.

East Asians see things in context, while Westerners focus on the point at hand; the former are dependent, the latter independent; the former are holistic, the latter analytic. There's a social aspect to these differences: Asians are collectivistic, Westerners individualistic.

Even if cognition does differ across cultures, why should we care? For one thing, it might help explain why we're prone to bubbles. In Nisbett's 2003 book The Geography of Thought he describes a study in which students were shown a graph with a line snaking upward across it, representing a trend like world deaths from tuberculosis or the gdp of Brazil. Investigators asked subjects to indicate how they thought the trend would continue. Many Americans sketched a line that continued skyward, while most Chinese forecast a peak and then a decline. A colleague of Nisbett's also showed that while Canadians predict a stock whose value is rising will continue to rise, Chinese think what goes up will come down. An intriguing difference, although one wonders if 1998's pancontinental financial crisis in Asia or the real estate and stock market crash in Tokyo affected students; in the U.S. the Nasdaq crash of 2000--02 was not as memorable. Nisbett doubts the theory but admits "the Confucian idea that the future will resemble the past is deeply ingrained in the Asian mind."

He reasons that cross-cultural differences can also explain societal phenomena. Nisbett defines a nation's preference for lawyers over engineers as a ratio: the number of the former divided by the number of the latter. When he compared America's ratio to Japan's, he found that the U.S. preferred lawyers over engineers 41-to-1. The American system, he says, prizes win-or-lose judgments, while Japan's preference is for middlemen who draft compromises.

In his most recent book, Intelligence and How to Get It: Why Schools and Cultures Count, Nisbett asks why Asian-Americans score higher on the sat than other Americans and why students in Asian nations do so much better on international math and science exams than their U.S. counterparts. The answer is not, Nisbett says, that Asians are smarter. Rather, he writes, "Asian intellectual accomplishment is due more to sweat than to exceptional gray matter." The tests measure proficiency as much as innate skill, and the proficiency comes from cultural forces, such as the Asian sense of obligation to the family. Another factor is that math lessons in Asian schools have a student working out a problem on the board as classmates chime in. That kind of collectivism confirms the commonly held belief that learning by organic induction is more effective than rote memorization.

Why do you find, in a music conservatory, a lot of Asian would-be concert pianists but comparatively few Asian opera-singers-in-training? There's a physical limit to how many hours a day a person can sing, Nisbett says, but not to how many hours one can practice sonatas.

He attributes these differences to history. East Asian agriculture was a communal venture in which tasks like irrigation and crop rotation had citizens acting in concert. In contrast, Western food production led to more lone-operator farmers and herdsmen. Greek democratic philosophy emphasized the individual; the Reformation stressed a personal connection to God; the Industrial Revolution made heroes of entrepreneurs. But in Asia, Confucius said virtue hinged upon appropriate behavior for specific relationships, say, among siblings, neighbors or colleagues.

These tidy generalizations are not without critics. A San Francisco State University professor who edits the Journal of Cross-Cultural Psychology, David Matsumoto, holds that while Nisbett attaches his observations to fascinating raw data, he takes some conclusions too far.

"In cross-cultural work researchers are too quick to come up with some deep, dark, mysterious interpretation of a difference with no data to support it," Matsumoto says. "It's difficult to draw one conclusion [from] a snippet of behavior, and that's what this work tends to do."

Though Nisbett believes our behaviors are shaped by 2,500 years of history, he also thinks they are malleable.

"I got interested in whether you could make people better at reasoning and problem-solving by certain kinds of education, and it turns out you can," he says. If Americans are asked to think about how they are similar to other people they know, they view the aquarium scene more like Asians--and vice versa. "So these things aren't necessarily locked in."

When it comes to cross-cultural business, Nisbett observes, East Asians want to establish relationships, while Westerners tend to keep their business connections at arm's length. Westerners operate by the exact wording of a contract, while East Asians hold that if circumstances change, so should the agreement. Marketers, of course, are aware of cultural differences. For the same phone, Samsung emphasized contrasting messages: In the U.S. the message was "I march to the beat of my own drum," whereas in Korea the ad campaign focused on families staying connected.

But Nisbett noticed shifts within the Asian cohort last year, after he observed a group of Chinese students at a Procter & Gamble ( PG - news - people ) focus group.

"My goodness, they were as lively as any group of American graduate students I've ever had. If I said something they didn't agree with, they let me know. … I would never, ever feel that way with Japanese or Koreans, who are more concerned with harmony," he says. "I think the Chinese will be more successful than the Japanese have been because they have that sense of obligation to family, but they're also going to get this more Western attitude of wanting to succeed as individuals."

Perhaps, Nisbett speculates, the personal drive one sees in Chinese entrepreneurs is a consequence of China's one-child policy. Because two parents and four grandparents dote on an only child, individualism is emphasized more than it used to be. As a result, Chinese youth are moving in a Western direction.

In the last half-century Japan has undergone a huge shift toward democracy, but this hasn't been accompanied by an increase in individualism, Nisbett says: "Japan is evidence that nothing changes. China is evidence that things can change like mad."

Why is Nisbett something of a lone wolf in studying the role of geography in cognition? His answer: "A lot of politically correct academics can't stand to hear about differences. They automatically assume that if you're pointing to difference, you're assuming superiority of your own culture. Well, that's just nonsense."

The upshot of Nisbett's research is that differences are real. They might not always be for the better, but they matter. Perhaps Americans should temper their optimism, Asians their reluctance to take center stage. For it seems to Nisbett that those who will be most successful in the 21st century are the ones who grasp what's best about both worldviews.

Omegle.com: The Thrill of Chatting with Random Strangers

By Jason Paul Laxamana
Urban Kamaru
Central Luzon Daily

There are a couple of reasons we chat with people we don’t know online. Back when I was still a Yahoo! Messenger chat addict, I went to chatrooms the name of which sparked my interest, like “Atheist VS Christian chatroom” and “Tambayan Kapampangan,” carrying the assumption that I would have the opportunity of chatting with people who shared the same interest.

Some who entered the chatroom merely lurked (an Internet term which means to be a member of a chatroom or forum, but not shouting out anything; an observer of the exchange of messages instead of a participant), while some debated with, or even flamed (an Internet term which means to debate with argumentum ad hominem) people who held beliefs different from theirs. A frequent case in many chatrooms though, regardless of their topic, is the abundance of perverts, meaning people who go online and try to pickup anyone, and probably invite him/her to some SEB (sex eyeball), or the so-called cam-to-cam (cybersex through webcam).

Now how about joining a chatroom that sets you up a session with a random stranger from anywhere in the world?

Introducing Omegle

One of my time-killers in my recent vacation in California was logging on to this website called Omegle (http://omegle.com), which my big brother introduced to me. The introductory message of the site says it all: “Omegle is a brand-new service for meeting new friends. When you use Omegle, we pick another user at random and let you have a one-on-one chat with each other. Chats are completely anonymous, although there is nothing to stop you from revealing personal details if you would like.”

I personally found the concept appealing. You know, being paired with a random person in cyberspace. Questions popped in my mind such as: What country will he/she come from? What age? What school level, course, or job? What interests? Will he/she be worth my time? Thinking of all these variables whenever Omegle paired me with a chat-mate gave me excitement, and I have chatted with a variety of people so far—from an interesting linguist from London who knew stuff about the Filipino language, to a Han Chinese university student who was forced to take up English.

I had a long chat with the linguist from London, who was not surprised with my proficiency in English, since he knew about the status of English in the Philippines, a country which, he said (and I agreed) had “stupidly big malls for a third world country.”

Sometimes, chats become very interesting in that I would chat with them until the wee hours of the morning, and we end up adding one another in some social network website like Facebook, like that Canadian French student whose ambition is to become a famous literary writer in Francais someday, the Mexican girl who is into spontaneous photography, and an independent grunge musician from Holland who hated his country’s wintry weather.

Despite the global accessibility of Omegle (even China allows it), the countries where participants usually come from are the United States, Canada, Mexico, United Kingdom, Holland, Brazil, and China. The only Filipinos I know who use Omegle are me, my big brother, and my cousins in the United States.

Disconnecting, Jerks, and Perverts

But not every stranger is fascinating. In fact, the chance of being paired with an interesting person is slimmer than being paired with a blah person. The good thing though is that you can disconnect with your current session, and Omegle will then pair you with a new stranger. (You can’t chat again with the previous person you’ve chatted with because contacts are not stored unlike in Yahoo! Messenger; unless serendipity is by your side and you get paired with the person among all other users online from all over the world).

Many times, the first thing you chat-mate would ask you would be your ASL (age, sex, location). A lot of times as well, if the person on the other line is a typical guy, and learns that you are also a dude, he would then disconnect without explanation. But the obvious explanation is that he is looking for someone from the opposite sex.

There are those who disconnect after learning what country you come from, or after learning about your age.

I’m not trying to be a jerk, but I usually disconnect without justification when the person on the other line answers briefly with questions. Like when I ask about how it is going with his/her country, and he/she answers with only a word, I disconnect. I yearn for more articulate people who just want to have a nice chat about anything under the sun. Some, usually high school students who are 12 to 14 years old, aren’t just very worthy of my time. Hey, I have the freedom to be a jerk, too.

Sometimes, I play pranks with people, too when I feel like it. I pretend to be someone else and make up my own fictional character description. I already have pretended to be a single mother from Japan addicted to communist ideas, an intelligent American male hustler wanting to commit suicide, and even an alien medium from India proclaiming the arrival of the aliens from a faraway galaxy.

It’s a nice exercise for fictional writers like me, hehehe.

About the Philippines

I have this habit of asking my chat-mate if he knew where the Philippines is, because I have encountered a lot who didn’t know where it is. Some didn’t even know it was a country. One stranger from Belgium thought it was one of the states of the US. One thought it was in Spain.

So what are you waiting for! Let’s add more Filipinos to the Omegle community! Log on to http://omegle.com

Send reactions to sisig_man@yahoo.com.ph

Sandara Park: Jologs in the Phils, Kinda Cool in Korea

So I was randomly watching East Asian music videos when I encountered a song called "Lollipop" by a popular Korean boy group called Big Bang (songs of which I have in my MP3 player currently), featuring a girl group called 2NE1.



I was watching the video, it was kinda bubblegum-pop/hiphop cool. But one of the members of 2NE1 was somewhat familiar in my brain. Then, in the middle of the music video, I had this thought:

She friggin' looks like Sandara Park (of Star Circle Quest fame, partnered with Hero Angeles and Joseph Bitangcol)!

So I researched on the girl group, and boom! It's Sandara "Dara" Park!

To like Sandara Park as a singer/dancer ('Sumusunod') in the Philippines is kinda jologs or uncool, but look at her under YG Entertainment (Korean label)! She's kinda cool.

Just goes to show that a lot of Philippine producers are baloney. I am nationalistic and all, and have always believed that Pinoy artists have what it takes, but our producers are just too mediocre to send a Philippine wave abroad. Sorry.

Kapampangan art is not acclaimed in Pampanga

‘Balangingi’ is ETC Best Short Film Awardee
Why are Kapampangan artworks awarded in other places but not in the province?
By Jason Paul Laxamana
Urban Kamaru
Central Luzon Daily

World Trade Center, Metro Manila—our Kapampangan short film ‘Balangingi’ (Nosebleed) wins the ETC Award for Best Short Film at the First Philippine Digital (Phil Digi) Music and Short Film Awards last March 12. Competing in a certainly Tagalog-dominated category, ‘Balangingi,’ in spite of being the only regional language entry, still impressed the Board of Judges from Entertainment Central (ETC), causing them to declare it the winner.

‘Balangingi’ tells the story of Xoo, who seems to be a standard teenager who lives boringly like everyone else, but unknown to people in his surroundings is what happens in his head—philosophizing about things average people would deem mundane, down to the minutest detail. One day, he is forced to attend a blind date. To avoid turning off his date, he struggles to suppress his intellectual side. The short film gives a peek to that minority in Philippine society who are unlikely to survive socially by being themselves—the Filipino intellectuals. Thus, the negative connotation of the local word “pilosopo” when it’s supposed to mean a lover of wisdom (philosopher).

According to the official website of the Phil Digi Awards: “There have been a lot of songs composed that are worth listening to. Quality short films are created even with low budget but are amazingly filled with art, ideas and moral values. Unfortunately, because of budget constraints, tough competition in getting radio airplays and film screens, and lack of knowledge, these great songs and films are being shelved. This is why iSYS Business Solutions and Blue Fish Asia came up with first Philippine Digital Music and Short Film Festival.”
Kapampangan Kompetes!

As usual, being a cultural worker seeking to empower the Kapampangan identity, I participated in the contest to “advertise” what Kapampangan can offer.

Note: I said what Kapampangan can offer, not what Kapampangans can offer. There’s a difference. It’s easy to show the world that Kapampangans (by blood) can be excellent. But oftentimes, these Kapampangans drop their being a Kapampangan—either consciously or not—to command the spotlight unto them. This, in my opinion, doesn’t empower the Kapampangan identity much. Whenever this happens, I just shake my head and whisper, “We’ve lost another one.”

In the venue of the Phil Digi Awards, there were huge tarpaulins where participants and guests can write anything—a freedom wall. Amidst the Pinoy pride slogans, individual promotions, and indie artist empowerment statements, we decided to write a message: “Kapampangan Ku, Pagmaragul Ku.”

Hours passed, and messages became more cramped in the tarpaulins. Checking out the “Kapampangan Ku, Pagmaragul Ku” again, we were surprised to see a reply written by a certain Larry, saying, “Kapampangan ku mu rin!”

Fast forward. ‘Balangingi’ was declared winner in the ETC category. I went up the stage to nervously deliver the first acceptance speech of my life—which started with “Mayap a bengi pu” and ended with a message on promoting Philippine cultural diversity—before an audience of both indie and mainstream artists, while being covered by the media.

And then we left, but not before checking out again the tarpaulin. Another reply, written by someone else, was suddenly added: “Aliwa la talaga ring Kapampangan!”

Perhaps we need more of these, as I call them, contemporary sources of Kapampangan pride—those that genuinely bring elements of Kapampangan identity to a more prestigious ground. For if we keep on drawing pride from Kapampangans who are successful but don’t carry with them elements of our identity (such as language, heritage, etc.), then we’re perpetuating the idea that the path to being successful is to drop our Kapampangan identity, when it is very possible to stick with Kapampangan (or make it the foundation of our works) and still get national or even global recognition.

Ligligan Kilual

The very reason I join film, music, and other competitions outside Pampanga is because Pampanga doesn’t have these. Hence, if I depended on what the province has, then I would have no means of increasing the symbolic value of my works, in spite of some of them probably being valuable to a certain degree.

There are no renowned music awards in Pampanga that would honor the best of the locally produced original songs annually; only specialized areas like those Battle of the Bands and so-so solo and choral singing contests. There are no film festivals. There are no province-wide literary contests except for municipality-level poetry tilts that produce Poet Laureates irregularly.

In result, a lot of Kapampangan artists who wish to prove something, feast their eyes on Manila and other countries, where it is actually easier to get formal acclamation than in their own homeland, just for the sole reason that the province doesn’t care much about the artistic capabilities of its residents, as seen in the scarcity of serious award-giving bodies.

An unrelenting source of funds, a board of credible judges, sincere support from the government, and media hype—these are the key ingredients in carrying out annual contests which are supposed to be looked forward to by the community, and looked up to by the people. Emerging as a first-time victor in these contests should make one feel as if he has undergone a birth of fire. He should feel several notches prouder, being aligned with the past winners who are supposed to be icons of excellence, as well.

But we have none. Probably the highest award from the province that can be bestowed to a writer, musician, visual artist, photographer, filmmaker, or actor would be the Most Outstanding Kapampangan Award for Culture and the Arts. So all your life, you have to struggle with your craft, reap awards from anywhere but your homeland, and when you have enough nice foreign awards up your sleeve, that’s when the province honors you.

But the province itself doesn’t make impressive actions in encouraging the best in the various areas of art.

Sindi, Patda

Contests are often held because they serve significant purposes—to encourage the creation of excellent artworks amidst art being a financially unrewarding career path in the country (especially in the province), and to invite the participation of the community in a certain field of art.

In a seemingly robotic world where almost everyone is reduced to a mechanical being tasked to perform a dehumanizing routine to survive, sustainable development in the arts will remind people of their humanistic side. I believe that the acknowledgment and exploration of our humanistic side prevent us from being insane from routines; and permit us to choose wisely and embrace elegant world views that will guide us sensibly in our decisions in life.

I know for a fact though that fields of art like music and sculpture thrive both in rural and urban Pampanga, but as Phil Digi Awards mentioned, these are usually shelved. They are made, but not distributed. Not all of them are excellent, but I’m sure a couple are, and they deserve to be known.

Now I ask: What efforts does the province make to seek for these artworks that deserve attention? What steps does the province take to collect these pieces of consciousness, which in the far future will remind the people how the art scene—which reflects culture, too—in Pampanga used to be?

Pampanga is becoming more and more like a parent who doesn’t care much about the promising talent of his/her child. What will the child do? He will either suppress his talent out of discouragement and choose the “more practical ways of life” (read: be like everyone else, go where the flow is, don’t innovate, don’t lead, just follow); or he will seek for other people who will greatly acknowledge his skill—and stick with those people in spite of not having the same blood relation.

Or is Pampanga that poor for it to not think about these things? I thought we were boasting of economic progress for the past years. If indeed we are poor, doesn’t the Pampanga government bother to take advantage of national grants, like for example, those of the National Commission on Culture and the Arts, to organize decent tilts?

If this is how lifeless the Kapampangan region will be in the realm of arts, then let me have my second thoughts on federalism and having a separate state for Kapampangans.

BALANGINGI (Nosebleed) WINS @ PHIL DIGI AWARDS!

1:30 am.

Just got home!

World Trade Center, Metro Manila—our Kapampangan short film Balangingi (Nosebleed) wins the ETC award for best short film at the 1st Philippine Digital Awards! Dakal a salamat pu!

I'd love to elaborate, but, sorry, I need to rest for now.Have to return to manila tomorrow/later for Cinema One Originals 2009. I'm submitting a screenplay there, too.

Para king Indung Kapampangan!

(L-R): Jason Paul Laxamana, Writer-Director-Editor of Balangingi, etc.; Jayvie Dizon, lead actor; Jeremy Cortez, dubbing assistant; Diego Marx Dobles, Asst. Director-Music Scorer-Location Manager, etc. Photo was NOT taken during the Awarding. Photo was taken backstage after the last run of Oedipus Rex at the Angeles University Foundation, where Dizon played the lead role as well.

'Balangingi' is Jack TV/ETC short film category finalist

I was told just minutes ago that my Kapampangan short film Balangingi (Nosebleed) is a finalist in the Philippine Digital Music & Short Film Festival.

Jack TV and ETC have joined Isys business solution and Blue Fish Asia in the Phil Digi Awards. The Stylish and posh ETC and the Outrageous and Manly Jack TV channels launched their new categories in the Phil Digi Awards Short film competition. The Jack Short Film Category and ETC Short Film Category are the latest addition in the Phil Digi Awards Short film Competition.

Jack TV is looking for chic, witty and funny short films, may it be with a Live cast or better yet an Animated one as long as it can tickle the funny bones and can made a ton of laughs, it's a sure ball for the Jack TV Short film category. ETC on the other hand is looking for reality based Short films, so for those who has a keen and sassy eye for making reality based Short Films, the ETC Short film category is for you.

Since people love Balangingi (and it seems it's effective as comedy), we decided to make a 15-minute version of it and submitted it to the Jack TV category. I don't know how the screening committee reacted to it, especially since it's in Kapampangan, but, uyta, it's a finalist.

It will be a two-day event, but I might be attending just the second day (even though I also want to attend the first day, which has a series of discussions on artist management and other stuff about commercial music, an area I would love to know more about).

The second day, the program will be more of a film and business forum:

8:00 – 9:30 Registration
9:30 – 10:00 Opening Ceremony
Opening Remarks
10:00 – 10:30 Trends and Opportunities in animation
10:30 – 11:00 Producing an Original Content in Animation
11:00 - 11:30 Setting up your own Business in Animation
11:30 – 12:00 Animation Open Forum
12:00 – 1:00 Screening of Short Film Entries
1:00 – 1:30 Movie copyrights and Publishing Rights
1:30 -2:30 Producing an original film contents
2:30 - 3:00 Finding Grants
3:00 – 3:30 E Commerce
3:30 – 4:00 Broadcasting and Marketing your Content
4:00 – 4:30 Film Business Outsourcing through the internet
4:30 – 5:00 Trends and Technologies in Film Making

At 8PM of March 12, it will be the awarding of the winning entries of PhilDigi Awards. The event will be graced by the presence and performances of Heber Bartolome, Dulce, Hilera, Typecast, Session Road, Zelle, Moonstar 88, Yosha, DJ Benjo and more.

I'm after the screening of the finalists, because I enjoy observing the reactions of people. Balangingi proved to be effective to Kapampangans; now let's see it fare in Manila. I'm not sure though if many people will be watching, but nonetheless, it's something I'd like to see.

Cinema One Originals 2009: Fantasy is welcome

Of the very few cash-granting film festivals present in the Philippines, the Cinema One Originals Movie Festival seems to be the boldest when it comes to picking up screenplays from the many aspirants vying for the now-one million peso grant for the production of their films.

While Cinemalaya does a good job producing ten feature films a year which can serve as alternatives to the mainstream, it seems as though—some Pinoy film enthusiasts would agree—it is beginning to box itself in a certain type of genre others would call “the mainstream indie,” or the “typical indie.” That is to say, realistic stories that give emphasis on humanity.

This used to be a good thing because most of the mainstream films produced back then by gigantic studios were purely imagined, ranging from formulaic romantic flicks to slapstick comedies.

Wanted: Creative Imagination

Then came the next problem—the marginalization of creative imagination. Addicted to seemingly true-to-life stories, we have forgotten that humanistic issues can also be artistically expressed in genres like science fiction, fantasy, horror, and even experimental, whatever this genre is.


My favorite “political film” for instance is not a period film or a docu-drama type of work that boasts of a true-story basis. It’s “V For Vendetta,” a cult action-thriller film. It’s social science fiction set in Britain in the year 2038 where the country has come under totalitarian rule. The lead character, V, is a seemingly superhuman anarchist wearing a Guy Fawkes mask attempting to end the fascist dictatorship.

With lines that get quoted even in my Sociology 10 class in UP Diliman, such as “We are told to remember the idea, not the man, because a man can fail; he can be caught, he can be killed and forgotten, but 400 years later, an idea can still change the world,” and “...artists use lies to tell the truth, while politicians use them to cover the truth up,” the movie has found its way in my Favorite Movies in both Friendster and Facebook.

Enter the Gothic

It is fascinating how films like “Dilim” and “Yanggaw” have made it to the list of finalists in the past Cinema One Originals. The official synopsis of “Dilim” goes: Dilim is an enigmatic creature that roams the streets at night and does vigilante work, saving innocent victims by literally devouring the villains. Conflict ensues when a do-good policeman goes hot on his trail.

I personally haven’t watched “Dilim,” but the synopsis itself proves that it’s not your typical indie film boxed in the world of realism. Whether “Dilim” has literary and philosophical strengths or not is another issue, but Cinema One’s willingness to produce such type of film is laudable.


“Yanggaw,” a Hiligaynon word for ‘infected,’ is an Ilonggo horror film exploring the life of a family with one member, the daughter, mysteriously becoming sick—she uncontrollably transforms into an aswang crunching on random people in the village every night. Under this dark and fantastic packaging is the screenplay’s tackling of Filipino issues of kinship and community. I was able to watch “Yanggaw” weeks ago at the Cinema Rehiyon Film Festival in the Cultural Center of the Philippines, and “Yanggaw” was an impressive alternative to the “mainstream indies.”

Struggle of new fantasy and sci-fi

Our ancestors used to have a lot of interesting stories to tell—from celestial gods that warred in the heavens to a mighty deity that wove the universe like a net, and from a fire-breathing monster tortoise burrowed under Mt. Pinatubo to witches that can burst into flames at will. Even “Ibong Adarna,” which was a required reading back in High School, is of the fantasy genre.

With the risen popularity of socio-realism in literature, the biggest propagator probably being Jose Rizal (although at closer look, Rizal’s novels can be categorized as social science fiction), fantastic fiction has been pushed to the kiddie world, comic books, mainstream television, and that endless series of True Philippine Ghost Stories. Queer works have even become “more mainstream” than fantastic or science fiction. Fantasy that is as praiseworthy as “Lord of the Rings,” or science fiction like “The Matrix” are lacking in bookstores and literary celebrations.

Literary fantasy is slowly being explored in the country though, albeit some have the tendency to go neo-colonial by pretending to be anime fan fiction writers instead of creating new local fantasy. But while speculative fiction is a genre slowly being popularized in certain literary circles, the annual Palanca Awards chose to remove science fiction from its categories, with reasons I am clueless of.

Literary fantasy is showing signs of penetrating movies, mostly alternative ones, as seen in some entries to the Cinema One Originals Movie Festival, but an almost impressive attempt was “Nieves, The Engkanto Slayer,” the third act in “Shake, Rattle, & Roll X.”

Currently, Pinoy science fiction and urban fantasies are rare, and I look forward to seeing films and literary pieces under these genres.

March 13

The deadline in submitting screenplays to the Cinema One Originals 2009 has been extended up until March 13. See cinemaone.tv for details.

Korean Singers attempt to conquer US market!

I wrote before a blog entry about Korean entertainers trying their luck in US—BoA, Rain, and Se7en.

BoA has already debuted with a fantastic music video, but I don't know how well-received she has been in the American market. With an obvious Asian accent when singing her English songs, BoA could have either irritated ears or she could marked her identity as an Asian in the US music scene. Nonetheless, "Eat You Up" has astounded people with BoA's dancing skills.



And then we have Se7en, my favorite among them all. He seems to be the most fluent in English, even though not a native speaker. A different accent can still be detected in his American English, but people perceive it positively, with girls falling in love with it, finding it sexy and cute.

Boasting of an album with popular American producers, the sound is very much like the typical American RnB and pop crooners like Justin Timberlake and Usher. Compared to BoA's "Eat You Up" though, Se7en's debut "Girls" is more lyrically creative.



Se7en's official debut video will be released March 10.

Both BoA and Se7en are obviously Americanizing their images though. Instead of bringing Korean heritage to the US, they are trying to immerse in the established American pop culture and seek to prove that Koreans are a wave to watch out for in the genres and styles the Americans are known for.

As regards Rain, I have no news about him.

Scarcity of Young Kapampangan Storytellers

Scarcity of Young Kapampangan Storytellers
Kapampangans at the Taboan Philippine Int’l Writers Festival
By Jason Paul Laxamana
Urban Kamaru
Central Luzon Daily

Last February 11 to 13, literary writers from different provinces gathered in Quezon City to attend the first ever Taboan Philippine International Writers Festival. The gathering is the offering of the Committee on Literary Arts of the NCCA (National Commission on Culture and the Arts), which for the first time celebrated a non-Manilacentric National Arts Month.

‘Taboan’ is a Visayan word meaning assembly, marketplace, meeting place, or rendezvous. In the Kapampangan language, the closest translation is ‘tabnuan’ or ‘sasmuan.’


True to the title’s meaning, the festival gathered both young and old writers from the regions to attend various discussions on topics ranging from writing for a living, literature and publishing in the provinces, new forms of publishing, children’s literature, language and literature, building literary careers, emerging genres of fiction, to transforming literature to stage and screen plays, the non-reading youth, experimental poetry, feminism in literature, and writing for an international audience.

Delegates from the province were Kragi Garcia, representing the older generation, and yours truly, the younger generation, both accompanied by UP Pampanga Directress Prof. Juliet Mallari, who happens to be part of NCCA’s Literary Arts Committee.


Decentralizing Pinoy lit

Like Philippine Cinema, Philippine Literature has often been Manila/Tagalog-centric. The ongoing history of national literature has always put the spotlight on the writers from the center, not taking into account the developing—or perhaps, even the long-existing—literary scenes from the regions.

In my elementary and high school years, all the literary works we were required to read for our Filipino class were Tagalog pieces, rendering me ignorant of works from other provinces and even of Kapampangan literature. Only during my self-imposed literary journey have I been exposed to the works of Jose Gallardo, Juan Crisostomo Soto, and other Kapampangan luminaries.

English and Tagalog literature have for a long time occupied for themselves the box called Philippine or National Literature, that is why non-Tagalog and non-English works settled for their respective regional titles—Cebuano Literature, Waray Literature, Kapampangan Literature, Ilonggo Literature, etc.

If logic be applied, then it means Cebuano Literature is Cebuano Literature, not Philippine Literature, same way as having to coin the term Bisrock for Bisaya Rock, when there’s already Pinoy Rock. This is because Philippine Literature has always been associated with Tagalog and English.

With the organization of Taboan, however, this might begin to change eventually. Any Filipino work, regardless whether it is in Ilokano, Kankanaey, or Maranao, will be called Philippine Literature. If the language be needed to be emphasized, we’ll call a Kapampangan work “Philippine Literature in Kapampangan.”

The undocumented present

By listening to the stories of other people about their respective regions’ contemporary literature, I’ve realized that the Kapampangan literary scene is more endangered than I thought.

It’s not about the dispute over orthography—although this is still a problem. It’s probably not even about the illiteracy of young Kapampangans in their native language. For me, it’s the scarcity of this generation’s authentic storytellers—using whatever medium—that poses the biggest problem.

I was in the Angeles University Foundation last week delivering a lecture about contemporary Kapampangan culture to Communication students. I asked the audience if there were writers among them. No one was raising a hand—not until I complained about the pekat-pekat attitude of my fellow youth, which I said was a disgrace to our mighty ancestors.

So one girl raised her hand and I asked her what she writes. Fictional prose and poetry, she said. Then I asked her to recite the synopsis of her favorite among her own works. She told me the story of a Mindanao-residing boy affected by the war in the Middle East and in Mindanao—or something like that.

Then I asked her if she has ever written anything with a Kapampangan as a main character. She shook her head. “How about a story set in Pampanga?” I received the same answer. It didn’t surprise me though.

Of course she’s just one girl, and I know that to conclude based on the account of one person is illogical—but really, I have been encountering this case as if it’s the norm—a scary one—for the Kapampangan youth, even the supposedly bright ones. Aside from refusing to use their native language in literary writing, they write about stuff happening either nowhere or elsewhere, anywhere but never their homeland.

If one is to get a feel of the Kapampangan region through literature, the present decade and probably the 90s would be murky “mirrors of society.” Or probably, they would be “mirrors of society in the eyes of the elders.” The perspective of the young storyteller has gone missing.

Mystery of the rappers

This might come as a surprise, but, actually, local underground rappers are probably the only consistent homeland-rooted storytellers of my generation. Their rap tracks are available only through the web or through pirated CDs in Angeles City, but if you listen to their lyrics, albeit usually not in Kapampangan, you’ll get the impression that they are writing about their immediate surroundings—something not done even by most erudite college publication writers in the province.

The topics of their rap songs of course are not the type that would win Palancas or even the Buwan ng Wika writing contests, but you can somehow detect the local storyteller within them.

The mainstream example would have to be Apl De Ap’s “Bebot” song. Apl De Ap of the Black Eyed Peas is from Sapang Bato, Angeles City, and in spite of his international fame, some of his compositions still mirror his Kapampangan life. Take for example an excerpt from “The Apl Song.”

Listen closely yo, I got a story to tell
A version of my ghetto where life felt for real
Some would call it hell but to me it was heaven
God gave me the grace, amazin' ways of living
How would you feel if you had to catch your meal?
Build a hut to live and to eat and chill in.
Having to pump the water outta the ground
The way we put it down utilizing what is around
Like land for farming, river for fishing
Everyone helpin' each other whenever they can
We makin' it happen, from nothin' to somethin'
That's how we be survivin' back in my homeland

How to solve

I don’t have the antidote to this dilemma, but I can share my thoughts. First of all, schools play an important role in making students aware of the culture, history, and literature of the Kapampangans. I think if our young storytellers were exposed more to homeland-rooted literary works, they would be somehow swayed to that direction.

Being chained to the past would most likely be the next problem. If these storytellers only read works that speak of life in the peaceful meadows, Japanese period struggles, and other pieces where all female characters are Maria Claras, they might end up writing about the past, the way they imagine it, instead of writing about their own time.

We are a unique generation compared to our predecessors. We are the MTV generation, the DIY generation, the anime generation, the digital generation, the global village generation, and many other things, such that only we can probably write about directly from the heart. We are a generation addicted to social networking simultaneously having Friendster, Multiply, Facebook, MySpace, YouTube, and probably even Xtube accounts, while keeping diverse contacts in our phone books—and to not include these things, along with other “strange” concepts that cause our fights with our parents, in our generation’s literature will be a great denial of reality. Literature then fails.

Also, perhaps we should promote Creative Writing more in our province. I wonder why we don’t have annual writing workshops like those of Cebu, Negros, and Baguio. And how come we don’t have a Kapampangan category for the Palanca Awards? Or better yet, why don’t we have local literary contests, aside from the oral poetry (pamigale) contests where elders dominate?

Creative Writing has always been limited to the school publications, making it seem as though it’s the grandest thing a young Kapampangan literary writer can achieve locally—to be published in the school paper.

Send reactions to sisig_man@yahoo.com.ph

The Curious Case of Kapampangan Cinema

A personal account of a Cinema Rehiyon participant
By Jason Paul Laxamana
Urban Kamaru
Central Luzon Daily

Cinema Rehiyon was held last week at the Cultural Center of the Philippines (CCP). It is the NCCA’s (National Commission for Culture and the Arts) Cinema Committee’s event for the then-called National Arts Month, now Philippine International Arts Festival (PIAF).

Cinema Rehiyon is the first ever film festival in Manila that puts the spotlight on independent films from the regions. Since the concept of Philippine Cinema has for long been Manila-centric, it is now time to decentralize it and take note of the more politically correct perception of Philippine Cinema—a collection of films from every corner of the archipelago, may they be indie or mainstream.


No Kapampangan participation

I make this personal joke—unfunny to some, probably—about Kapampangans naturally lacking the letter H in their speech. Despite this, it is ironic that they seem to be more involved with the Hearts’ Month during February instead of the Arts Month.

When the press release for the lineup of events for the PIAF was released, along with the focused provinces and cities of Cinema Rehiyon, I felt very bad because Kapampangan had zero participation.

“This is a showcase of nascent cinema from the regions. From the highlands in and around Baguio to the heart of Bicolandia that is Naga City; across the thriving Visayas cities of Cebu, Bacolod and Iloilo; and through Mindanao between Cagayan de Oro and Davao, a new generation of artists is telling stories of their own cultures and people in cinematic form.”

Being a Kapampangan indie filmmaker, I at once called the NCCA Cinema Committee and inquired whether the Kapampangan region can be represented by one of our short films—Ing Bangkeru (The Boatman).

No solid block

After more than a month of deliberation, they decided to include our film in the lineup, albeit categorized under the ambiguous “Short Films from Various Parts of Luzon” block. Our film shared space with a Laguna short film, a Batangas short film, and a Nueva Ecija short film—all Tagalog entries.

Enviable are the regions/provinces/cities that enjoyed a more definite block: Cebu short films, Bacolod short films, Cagayan De Oro short films, Central and Western Mindanao short films, Davao short films, Bicol short films, Baguio short films, and Iloilo full-length films.

Being the only Kapampangan during the festival, I actually felt lonely, seeing Cebuanos, Dabawenyos, Bicolanos, etc. come in numbers with lots of films to offer for the festival, speaking with one another in their respective languages.

It’s really tragic because Kapampangans have always played their part in national history (two sunrays in the Philippine flag are Kapampangan provinces), even in the field of arts. The CCP, where the festival was held, even has two areas named after two Kapampangan artists: Vicente Manansala and Aurelio Tolentino. Yet during Cinema Rehiyon—a historical event in the history of Philippine Cinema, I must say—we looked like a dying cultural minority, despite being one of the major ethnolinguistic groups of the country, and being one of the most progressive provinces in the country to date.

Alive after all...

Come to think of it though, an exclusive Kapampangan block could have been made. Aside from our “Ing Bangkeru” and our numerous other works (documentaries and music videos), there’s “Pupul” (Harvest) by Nicolette Henson, which bagged best narrative in her production class under Pam Miras at St. Scholastica’s College. It also made it to the Top 10 of the Short Narrative category of the Ateneo Video Open 10.

Then of course we have Mark Dela Cruz’ “Misteryo Ng Hapis” (Sorrowful Mystery), a full Kapampangan short film which enjoys several titles under its sleeve, including Best Picture in a recent year’s PBO Digitales, Best Thesis during its time at the UP Film Institute, Finalist in Cinemalaya 2007’s short film category, and Finalist in a recent Ateneo Video Open. It also competed in Cinemanila years ago. Following the trend is UP Film student Jacqueline Nakpil’s “Ke Lual Ning Kulambu” (Outside the Mosquito Net), her production thesis in 2007

Kapampangan full-length films are also existent. We have the internationally award-winning Kapampangan films of Brillante Mendoza like “Masahista” (The Masseur; City of San Fernando), “Kaleldo” (Summer Heat; Guagua), “Manoro” (The Aeta Teacher; Sapang Bato, Angeles City), and “Serbis” (Service; Angeles City). Although Mendoza’s Center Stage Productions is Manila-based, most of his actors and staff are his kabalen when he does Pampanga-based films. I should know; I have worked for him.

The Cinemalaya Best Picture of 2008 “Jay” (Bacolor), directed by Francis Xavier Pasion, can also be included. Even though the Manilenyos’ participation in the creation of the film was inevitable, most, if not all, actors actually hail from the province, as the auditions were held at DHVCAT in Bacolor. Even the lead actors, Baron Geisler (Angeles City) and Coco Martin (San Fernando), are Kapampangans.

But here’s the problem...

Despite the presence of these Kapampangan films, which are just as good as—or even better than—the other blocks I’ve seen during my three-day viewing of Cinema Rehiyon blocks, why have the organizers failed to detect us?

I know why. It’s because these Kapampangan films are not organized, unlike in Davao, Cebu, Bacolod, Iloilo, and other areas. Kapampangan productions sprout here and there, in various competitions, in various places, from Manila to Pampanga. They have all been individual efforts by various filmmakers who represent only themselves or their schools, not their homeland; filmmakers who are not yet well organized into a Kapampangan film community.

Most of the time, the people behind these Kapampangan films don’t even know the presence of other Kapampangan films, because each filmmaker is busy with his own career, flying solo either to Manila or abroad to propagate his/her own film, without thinking “I’m representing Kapampangan cinema.”

Is selfishness the root of this? I actually don’t think so.

The root

With conviction, I believe that the root of this is the deterioration of our people’s sense of being members of the Kapampangan community. The Kapampangans’ imagination of themselves as an equally distinct group like the Warays, Ilocanos, and Cebuanos is fading away, with Kapampangans, especially the talented ones, preferring to join the so-called Filipino community, which is actually just the Manila community.

While Kapampangan Cinema is a thing yet to be born, Kapampangans are actually not newbies in the industry. Manila has always employed the skills of Kapampangans—whose homeland is very near—in developing their film industry (and other industries as well): from Rogelio Dela Rosa to Gracita Dominguez; from Gregorio Fernandez (directed “Asahar at Kabaong,” “Senorita,” and “Higit Sa Lahat,” which won for him Best Director at the 1956 Asian Film Festival and also at the FAMAS) to Lea Salonga.


From Elwood Perez to Brillante Mendoza; from Patsy to Chuck Perez; from Lito Lapid to Liza Lorena; from Sharon Cuneta to Judy Ann Santos; from Paquito Diaz to Rodolpho “Dolphy” Quizon (born to Kapampangan parents in Pampanga but raised in Tondo); from Alma Moreno to Jaclyn Jose; from Hilda Koronel to Rosita Noble.

From Melanie Marquez to Dong Puno; from Dante Rivero to Rufa Mae Quinto; from Efren Bata Reyes to Lorna Tolentino; from Rudy Fernandez to Jean Garcia; from Nanette Inventor to Donita Rose; from Glydel Mercado to Rico Puno; from Ronnie Liang to Aljur Abrenica; and many more, and still progressing in number.

These are probably things not even national historians of Kapampangan descent like Ambeth Ocampo would be interested in tracing.

Local brain drain

While it seems nice that Manila has catapulted our kabalens to “national” status in the entertainment industry, what suffered actually is the Kapampangan community in general, as these Kapampangans who have been absorbed by Manila mostly have become assimilated to Tagalog culture, stripping away their “Kapampangan-ness” and their potential to represent the Kapampangan people.

A vivid example is probably Rogelio Dela Rosa, discovered by no less than the Father of Philippine Movies Jose Nepomuceno. Dela Rosa had a problem when the era of silent films was through—he had a very strong Kapampangan accent when delivering his Tagalog lines. But Dela Rosa worked so hard to master the Tagalog language, and later on, he was given a new break in the movie “Diwata sa Karagatan,” the first Filipino feature film sold outside the country.

It’s time for Cinekabalen

We have served the Manila film industry well and became instrumental in the propagation of Tagalog culture and language through cinema. Now, I guess it’s time to look back, even just a little, to our dear Kapampangan homeland and try to keep up with the rest of the country in producing local films—even just indie—that genuinely depict our native culture (both rural and urban) and imagination, using our own “de-Manila-tized” perspective. Because if Kapampangans won’t do this, no other region will do it for us.

This August, the first Cinekabalen Philippine Film Festival will be organized. It will not only exhibit existing Kapampangan works but also place in competition fresh Kapampangan works from participants, may they be students, professionals, mere enthusiasts, or ex-patriates. The mechanics can be found at http://cinekabalen.multiply.com.


To expose the Kapampangan audiences—most of whom believe that being assimilated to Manila’s pop culture is the way to go—to the impressive indie filmmaking efforts of other regions, Cinekabalen will also screen selected films from other regions in the Philippines, like Cebu, Davao, Bicol, Iloilo, Kalinga, Eastern Visayas, Bacolod, and Muslim Mindanao.

Actually, student short film competitions have been held in key colleges for the past years already, such as the Holy Angel University and Systems Plus College Foundation. Some have been technically competent. A major problem however is their “cultural confusion.” Their stories are not rooted to their homeland. They echo the stories of Manila, the way they see them on Manila and foreign TV shows and movies. The writers imagine too much melodramatic things and fail to see the beautiful local stories unfolding around the neighborhood.

All their characters speak Tagalog and English, and deliberately eliminate Kapampangan out of the picture because subconsciously Kapampangan is not as prestigious as the two official languages for them. Language is important in any cultural product that involves language. This is especially true for Kapampangan; anthropologist John Larkin mentioned in his book “The Pampangans” that Kapampangans share a lot of common culture with nearby ethnic groups, and their distinct language is one of the things that strongly sets them apart from the others.

Cultural farsightedness

I was chatting once with a college IT student, asking him to participate in the Cinekabalen short film competition this August. He said he would love to join, but told me he is not a good writer and does not know how to make stories.

So I chatted with him about life in general, until he casually revealed to me that he is a Muslim, converted from Christianity back when he was young. Within the Muslim community, however, “Muslims since birth” tend to regard themselves higher than “converted ones” or the so-called “Balik Islam.” Also, even though he was Muslim, he attended Catholic schools.

Then I told him—“There’s your story! You don’t have to imagine a lot of things in order to come up with a beautiful work.” I sounded sensible to him, and he got all excited about the concept (which came from him anyway), and told me that he WILL be participating. He got even more excited when I told him that the Muslims of Pampanga have never been tackled in any Kapampangan film.

This “cultural farsightedness” by budding writers and filmmakers is shared by many Kapampangans. For example, in the school paper of one university in Angeles City, a writer came up with the major highlights of the Year 2008. He cited the victory of Obama, the release of this Hollywood movie (“Twilight”), the end of season two of that TV show, the new album of this artist, the Eraserheads concert, Pacquiao’s victory over Dela Hoya, etc.

He didn’t consider the major happenings in Pampanga as highlights of 2008—the recall move against Governor Eddie Panlilio which has been getting national attention, the celebration of the first ever province-wide “Aldo Ning Amanung Sisuan” or Kapampangan language day, the release of the first ever Kapampangan rock album, the rise of Ara Muna (“O Jo, Kaluguran Da Ka”) to national fame, the production of the first ever Kapampangan TV drama (“Kalam”), the Cannes Film Festival participation of the Angeles City film “Serbis,” and the winning of “Jay” in Cinemalaya 2008, to name a few.

A reward-system shift

The question now is: how do we cure this illness? I believe it will take the introduction of a Kapampangan-glorifying trend to Kapampangans themselves for this to happen. Hopefully, Cinekabalen will contribute to the propagation of this trend.

Also, it would be highly appreciated if our public officials, academes, and successful entrepreneurs financially aid indie filmmakers who would knock on their doors for the production of their respective Kapampangan works. I believe part of the impressive output of Davao indie filmmaking community is due to the support of the more financially-blessed citizens of their place, like Mayors and businessmen.

Please email reactions to sisig_man@yahoo.com.ph

Old photos of Kapampangan stars care of Alex Castro.