Resolved: I shall be constructing an hPAA

This week has been unexpectedly busy for me. Since last week I had been involved in an internet debate and I have been having a rum time trying to organize my data. I have also been assigned to give the mid-week sermon last Wednesday (February 15), which meant even more organization of data. I have also had to give assistance to one of my brothers in researching a good enough PDA phone to replace his excellent but suddenly not as "useful" Nokia. Later in the week, I've had to visit the family of a poor guy who was murdered for his cellphone, and then make the tedious trip back to my former employer to get my back pay and put it in the bank.

My youngest brother had been taking his post-graduate studies finally this year and, I am happy to report, doing well. However, he is suddenly finding that having a job and studying in the evening is taxing and time-consuming. To cut a long story short: even if he has a PC at home and access to a laptop that his job is allowing him to use, he finds that both are still too inconvenient for him. He needs, for instance, access to several Bible versions and a few resources that would have had him lugging around big books, or else, copious notes. There are, of course, eBook versions of these that are normally readable on the PC or a laptop, but as I said these are very inconvenient to bring. The obvious solution is, of course, a PDA.

Since he cannot afford something brand new, he has had to trade in his Nokia and get something second-hand. If I might say so myself, the O₂ XDA II PDA we got last Wednesday was a good bargain. It had the original box with complete original accessories with it, including the important installation CD. By the next day, I had already installed a lot of free resources (like several Bible versions, including one in Tagalog, and some other references) and he was able to copy his report (in MS Word Doc format) onto it for him to easily modify later for his class.


It took almost the entire day on Wednesday to find him a good bargain, and I had barely enough time to prepare my sermon. I wasn't in the mood to use the lectionary and I had wanted to give a sermon on "Love" since it was February after all. But I found that having too much to say is as much a disadvantage as having too little. In the end, I merely listed down some facts that I do know about love (including the four divisions that C.S. Lewis made) and several Bible verses about why we should love and what cold love is a symptom of. I used the "Compose" feature of Gmail to write my sermon so that I don't have to open MS Word or WordPerfect. I wrote only an almost bare outline and decided to wing it later than night.

In the end, if the congregation is to be believed, they thought it was the best sermon I have given yet (I've preached a total of two to this particular group of parishoners), and one of the pastors listening even told me that he was touched to the heart. It was a personal success for me, but I must admit that it almost ended in disaster.


If there is one thing that ties in all of these is that, despite having a PDA myself (an aging Palm m130) I am still having difficulty organizing data. Oh, I am very happy with my Palm device for data of a digital matter; but I mostly use it as a portable digital library of eBooks I have either obtained or digitized myself. I rarely use the "To Do" function. About the only other function that I extensively use is the "Calendar" function (as a glorified alarm clock to remind me of important events like birthdays and tv program schedules) and the "Address Book" function (for storing phone numbers and other details). But the one thing that I had hoped I could use it for, that of a personal database, is the one thing that I have not used it for lately.

It's not entirely my fault. I had in previous times used it as such, using Documents To Go as a digital "tickler" notebook. But I have since worn out the touch screen with my incessant note-taking that it is no longer reliable for that purpose. The touch screen works well enough for me to access my eLibrary, but little else.

I can, of course, purchase a folding keyboard, but that kinda defeats the purpose of it being a "portable" digital notebook. In the end, it spends more time sitting pretty in it's neophrene holster as a glorified digital Library and newspaper (using AvantGo, I'd been downloading the Daily Inquirer and other news sites) that I can read in the dark.

But with this on-g0ing online debate, I really need a notebook for taking notes and organizing my thoughts. I had always used tickler notebooks before, but inspite of their working well for its purpose, they aren't versatile enough.


Then, several things happened at once. I remembered that back in college we used notecards instead of notebooks (basically, they are index cards used for the purpose of taking quotations and properly referencing them). Before I started using my wife's m130, I always had a pack of them in my pocket for taking down notes. They were easy to organize, but also easy to lose track of.

Then, while reading about Internet Phenomena on Wikipedia, I came across this article on the Hipster PDA, and it seemed to be the answer I was looking for. I quote the entire article below:

The Hipster PDA is a paper-based personal organizer popularised, if not invented, by San Francisco writer Merlin Mann. Originally a tongue-in-cheek reaction to the increasing expense and complexity of personal digital assistants, the Hipster PDA (said to stand for 'Parietal Disgorgement Aid') simply comprises a sheaf of index cards
Hipster PDAheld together with a binder clip. Following widespread coverage in the media and blogs, the Hipster PDA (abbreviated 'hPDA') has become a popular personal management tool particularly with geeks and followers of David Allen's Getting Things Done methodology and users of the Fisher Space Pen.

Advocates of the hPDA claim that it is a cheap, lightweight, free-form organiser which doesn't need batteries and is unlikely to be stolen. Critics cite the lack of integration with desktop PC productivity software and point out that there is no easy way to back up the often critical information stored in an hPDA.

Although it began as a joke, or perhaps a statement about technology fetishism, the Hipster PDA has rapidly gained a population of serious users, with hundreds posting pictures of their customised hPDAs on photo sharing sites and exchanging tips on Internet mailing lists. Enthusiasts also design and share index card-size printable templates for storing contacts, to-do lists, calendars, notes, project plans, and so on.

The Hipster PDA (perhaps so named because it is a pocket device, or as an allusion to hipster culture) has become something of an Internet phenomenon, gaining popularity primarily among young, technology-literate people especially IT workers. It represents a 'back-to-basics' or Zen attitude to personal management.

The answer has been obvious all along. In my most recent job, I had used index cards more often than tablets they gave us; I had even written my entire presentation on it. Of course, the term is a misnomer, since PDA stands for Personal Digital Assistant, but this "PDA" is not digital. It's analog. Of course, according to the article above and the site that "instructs" you how to "construct" one (43Folders), it's supposed to mean "Parietal Disgorgement Aid," whatever that means. I guess they need to keep the PDA acronym to preserve its "geek" factor; calling it merely a "sheaf of index cards" isn't cool.

I will be constructing one, because I need it (especially on that online debate on the mailing list), but I will be calling it hPAA, short for Hipster Personal Analogue Assistant. It will be pronounced as hi-pah (with the glottal stop) so that it can benefit from the assonance with iPAQ. In my mind are numerous "hacks" to make my hPAA more "gadget-like" (like constructing a cardboard wallet with pockets for Post-it flags and a pen), but I guess I'll try to keep it simple for now and use a binding clip in the meantime.

I must remind myself that I am construcing a hPAA not to play around with it, but to use it as a tool.

Anyway, I'm intrigued by this and I will give an update as to how it works. I can't wait to make one tomorrow!

Fleeting Precious Things and Forlorn Hopes

One of the really good things about a really good book or a really good movie is that they have the potential to last. A movie I enjoyed when I was young I can reasonably hope would also be enjoyed by my progeny, if a copy of that movie still exists. A book is even easier—as long as I, myself, have a copy of a book that means a lot to me, the possibility of sharing it to my children in the future is a joy to me.

Still, there are certain things which are so precious and yet so fleeting that one can almost despair that anybody else can share it with you. People have felt this when there is a particular play or cantata or musical which was magical, but with a magic that lasts only through the night and only imperfectly in one's memories. So many people, for instance, point to Christopher Plummer's performance as Cyrano de Bergerac as his best performance in his entire career. I wouldn't know. I didn't watch it; and I will always have the feeling of having been excluded from such a wonderful experience.

Nevertheless, cantatas can be performed again. Plays have scripts that can be published and enjoyed. Musicals that one hasn't ever watched can be remade as films (the way the Broadway musical of the Phantom of the Opera has been) and be enjoyed by new generations. So, even here there is potentially some hope that one can feel that one isn't alone in enjoying these treasures, no matter how different they are.

The same cannot be said of computer games. One of the things that my wife and I shared even as best friends were computer games. Before even a hint of romance between us, we were already close trading secrets and strategies of the games of WarCraft and MYST. As we became closer and closer to each other, there was Final Fantasy VII. WarCraft and MYST both have novels written for them and complete histories that will satisfy the cravings of knowledge; but this is not the same as actually "living" the games. Of course, there still is a WarCraft game out there, and several MYST sequels, but as memorable as these games are to me, to my wife and countless others, they will be forgotten by the next generation. Not because they aren't worth remembering but because there is no way for them to exist once the technologies they are based on becomes obsolete. I find this very sad.

It is even worse with Final Fantasy VII. This game was designed for a console that is no longer being manufactured, and the discs that I saved for and bought are no longer in good condition, even if I am able to preserve the PSOne console for my children. Even when I tried downloading a PC version of it, hoping to relive some of the joy and happiness of playing it, it has problems even working on Windows XP. It is sad, because the story of Final Fantasy VII is one of the best that I have ever lived through. "Lived" because, unlike even the best books, role-playing games such as these allow you to actually live out the characters, even if the story-line is linear. Someday, I can hope to have my kids read Pride and Prejudice when they are old enough, probably watch a DVD of the BBC version; I cannot hope for the same with Final Fantasy VII. True, there is one anime "prequel" and a movie "sequel" to the games, but none of these hold any meaning apart from the game. These movies mean something because we played the game.

Sometimes I wish somebody would write a novel concerning the game, but I realize now that that is a fool's hope. The printed word vs the audio-visual journey are very different things. Notwithstanding issues of canon, putting "the game" down into words will kill the game. How does one translate all the possible materia combinations, the different strategies for defeating the Weapons, the side quests or even Chocobo raising, training and racing into the written word without making it long, tedious, boring and irrelevant?

Prequels and sequels are okay, like they did for the MYST franchise, but even the creators realized that they shouldn't novelize the actual games itself. It shouldn't be done for Final Fantasy VII either.

So, sometimes I wish that Square-Enix had the resources to "re-publish" their "titles" for each succeeding generation, or at least find some way to preserve it so that it can still be enjoyed. I know I am not alone in hoping that Square-Enix would "remake" Final Fantasies I-VII, at least, one last time for the Playstation 3. I know that, unlike good books, good games cannot be republished ad infinitum; but it still is a wish. Then maybe, as all forlorn hopes are, there is a potential for the joy of being in connection still with the next generation, a connection with something that had meant a lot to us while we, too, had been young.

Some Quiz results—wala lang

As Dumbledore, you are talented, intelligent and powerful! You may prefer to be in a leadership position, and always uphold what is right. You set trends with your crazy beard.

Pacelbel's Canon in D—Rock Guitar version

Man! This guy is amazing! Makes Canon in D totally rock! Wow!

English Vocabulary in the Philippines—A Private Peeve

Iknow, on an intellectual level, that English, like any language anywhere in the world, will evolve somehow depending on the local situation. Elizabethan English is different from modern English in that regard. It is with that acceptance that I hope that Tagalog can also evolve someday into something more useful and convenient for communication and instruction.

Still, I find that there are certain idiosyncrasies in the Pinoy dialect of English that I find very annoying. It is not to say that I don't approve of local modifications, because I do. Locally coined words (the word "Tambayan" for instance) enrich the vocabulary. But there are times when words are added to the vocabulary based on mistakes. Some of these mistakes are unintentional, but in others they are not only intentional but deliberate. Over the years I have come across a lot of these, but I will only mention two right now.


Iam quite sure the local meaning for the word "salvage" did not exist until at the very earliest the 70's. I am sure because I still remember when the word "salvage" was still used in its original meaning of either "to save" or "to redeem" when I was in early grade school. I still remember when teachers and visiting nuns would talk about salvaging an unruly student. Things, of course, changed because of People's Journal.

Well, People's Journal didn't use the word "salvage" to mean brutally murdered initially. But during the early to mid 80's brutal murders happened frequently enough that it made the news. These bodies were often disposed of in garbage dumps or in the river Pasig. So, whenever these bodies were recovered, the headlines will, of course, say "Dead man/woman/etc. was salvaged last night from Pasig/Smoky Mountain/etc."—"salvaged" here meaning that it was fished out and recovered by authorities. People say the same things when they "salvage" useable junk.

Now, it seems natural that Pinoys would make the association between the word "salvage" with "brutal murder". . . it is natural (even considering the fact that English teachers nationwide should have nipped this one at the bud). What annoys me most is that, by and large, Pinoys have forgotten how and why this happened and insists on silly explanations.

A few years back a major daily attempted to explain why we have a different meaning for "salvage." I read it with eagerness. At last, I said to myself, somebody can set it straight. Instead, I had several different implausible theories, the most plausible of which is that "salvage" is just our corruption of the word "savage." I can still remember the approximate wording of the explanation: "In America, when somebody wants to murder someone, they usually say 'Savage him!' and Pinoys [supposedly] merely added the 'l'." There are a number of problems with this explanation, the most obvious of which is that I have never heard of any American expression like that. Savage him indeed; "savage" means something else entirely in the USA, if I am not mistaken.

In the meantime, Pinoys continue to use the word with the local meaning. And we sound idiotic as a result. Nowhere else in the world does the phrase "salvage victim" mean victim of brutal murder. Even though Pinoys have since been briefed on its true meaning, we still use it. So what? some ask. How would we feel if some other culture used the word "iniibig kita" to mean "I want to rape you"? Normal word coinage (even gay lingo) does not bother me because I see that as legitimate word evolution. If we all gave private local meanings to foreign words, why even learn the words in the first place?


This other instance is a constant, almost weekly annoyance. For years, the proper term for somebody celebrating one's birthday was birthday celebrant, and it still is. However, in the last decade, Pinoys have decided that the proper term now is birthday celebrator, and every time I hear it mentioned, I gnash my teeth.

Of course, the word "celebrator" does exist in the English Language. It means "one who celebrates" so it should make sense that that is the right term, but it isn't. The celebrant is the person who is the reason for the celebration, and the celebrators are those who celebrate with that person. For instance, in a birthday party, there is the celebrant (celebrants in the case of multiple births or those with the same birthday) and the rest of those who actually sing "Happy Birthday to You" (and take the pictures, eat the food, the cake and the ice cream) are the celebrators—the people who celebrate with the celebrant.

Let me use another example which Pinoys, thankfully, never made any mistake on. In any school contest, those actually competing in the contest are called participants. Of course, those students who are not competing but should still "participate" in the school activity by watching the school contest are called participators. See? Makes sense here in this sense, why not in the sense of "celebration."

Yet almost nobody I met who has heard this explanation would rather still call the celebrant a celebrator instead. One person once remarked to me "Well, the TV personalities use it. So do reporters. So, it must be the right usage." This annoys me the most.


This is just two of many instances. But what connects all these instances is one very Pinoy trait which fuels all of this: the anong-paki-'mo attitude. I know that there are lots of exceptions in our country, but the usual impression I get when Pinoys justify errors, mistakes, cheating and any other objectionable or annoying stuff, they would also snap something like "mind your own business." Because of that, too many Pinoys would rather be mediocre than take the steps to "salvage" themselves in the eyes of many.

Magic Box Trick

How was this done? I still can't figure it out. Wow.


As seen on Break.com

My wife and I were having fun about a Naruto "love compatibility test" to see which Naruto character was our "true love." Katuwaan lang. But when Ærynn and I took our individual "tests" we ended up with the characters that were being paired together. All that on our first try. Wow. And she wasn't so hot about who she picked at first, because the guy was a chain smoking shinobi. Anyway, find out more about the Naruto series and these characters here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Naruto_manga and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Characters_of_Naruto.

Anyway, here are our results:


Sarutobi Asuma

Compulsive smoker, jounin from the Leaf, youe one true love : Sarutobi Asuma

Rivals :
- Yuuhi Kurenai. Then again, it might just be a rumour that Kakashi is spreading so go get him!


Yuuhi Kurenai

Rookie Jounin, genjutsu user, your one true love : Yuuhi Kurenai

Rivals :
- Sarutobi Asuma. Then again, it might just be a rumour that Kakashi is spreading so go get her!


The Naruto anime series have recently jumped the shark, mainly because it is no longer following the manga it was based on initially but consists, instead, of a season of "filler" episodes until it can catch up with the manga. I don't know why I'm still watching it. I guess I'm hoping it gets better once it starts following the manga again.

I will always hate loud music

Ihave very distinct musical tastes. For the longest time, I have appreciated Baroque and Classical Music, a smattering of some old "classics" from the early to mid-2oth century, some 70's music, and the music they used to play in the early Sesame Street. I also have been listening to Enya for quite some time now. I know I am not a music connoisseur, but I am definitely a music afficionado and I can hear, in my mind's ear, the music I so love. People have called me names ranging from freak to anti-social for my musical preferences, the tamest (I think) was that I was accused of being boring. I didn't mind... I enjoyed my music.

Now, a few years ago, I was introduced to several sources of unwanted loud noise/music of which I had no control or choice over. The first source are the blaring music of public transportation vehicles. The second source are the blaring boom boxes and "mobiles" of peers. The third, and most damaging (later, I will explain why) was when I had a stint teaching high-school kids. The thing with the first two sources was that they either don't last very long (the former) or that I can choose to stop my ears or leave the place (the latter), and so later, when I returned home, I can listen again to my "boring" music and hear what I remember hearing.

But those nasty, inconsiderate kids whom I tried to teach would not let up with their noise. I frequently had to raise my voice just to be heard because, in keeping with the current trend of unruly students of "heroically" defying their teachers, they did their best to maintain conversations and not keep quiet. No threats scared them—they know I can get fired for corporal punishment (funny how I can suddenly wish for something I used to be bitterly against when confronted with a bunch of idiots who deserved it) and they didn't care if they got minuses from their grades (they had their parents who can fight for the "unfairness" of grading their kids' "intelligence" based on how talkative they are; they can even convince the principal that talkativeness is merely their way of showing smarts).

At any rate, they were noisy enough to keep my ears ringing long after I got home. But, what choice have I got? I needed to keep not only my eyes but ears peeled when it came to students. What kind of teacher would I be if I didn't pay attention to them?

During that time, the only "music" I got to hear were Back Street Boys and those other loud whatchamacallits that are only worth listening to because they were currently "in" at the time. But one Christmas, I tried listening to a bit of Ray Conniff to ease my nerves. Imagine my shock when the only voices I heard clearly were the men.

So I frantically dug up my Enya CDs and other classical/baroque music and listened to them, and I fairly panicked when they all sounded different from when I remembered. I can no longer hear the lilting high notes in Enya, or enjoy the flutes of Mozart (I can't hear them), or the loveliness of Handel's Messiah. I tried to convince myself that my speakers were busted... yeah! Those speakers were ancient. I bought a brand new pair—still the same result. I borrowed high-quality ear-phones—nada! I had to accept the fact that my hearing was now impaired.

The reason why I am remembering all this now is that, two years after I resigned from that hazardous job, and listening only to real music at their proper volumes, I realized that I can enjoy Enya again. I can, once again, hear those lilting high notes in her songs, and I can enjoy the interweaving melodies of a cappella recordings again. But, it still isn't the same as it was before: I have regained some of my hearing, but not all of it.


Idespise all those people who think that all their loud music is "the way to go" (including kids who think that ears ringing is "cool") and scorn the sort of music I like. For the longest time, I cannot defend my preference, since they themselves cannot see anything "special" about my music. For years, I knew why—their music is damaging their hearing and their ability to appreciate real music; but I didn't have any proof beyond my assertions.

The day has finally arrived. People are now finally accepting that loud music is bad. Here is just a smattering of the links I found that supports my view, including one hypocritical account of a drummer of a band claiming that his hearing loss is not due to the loud music he plays but rather because he used studio headphones.

• http://www.abelard.org/hear/hear.htm
• http://kidshealth.org/kid/health_problems/sight/rock_music.html
• http://www.cyh.com/HealthTopics/HealthTopicDetails.aspx?p=240&np=297&id=2015
• http://www.hearingcenter.com/Questions/Q_loud_music.html
• http://www.goaskalice.columbia.edu/0939.html
• http://www.dizziness-and-balance.com/disorders/hearing/hearing.html
• http://www.ehealthmd.com/library/hearingloss/HL_whatis.html
• and http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20060104/ap_en_mu/pete_townshend

In the meantime, I will enjoy my Baroque music, thank you very much, while I try to train myself (in the spirit of Christian charity) not to gloat in the next few decades when those who are fans of loud boy band music and gangsta "rap" will find that they cannot even hear the music that destroyed their ears... while I admire the nuances of different versions of the same Baroque or Rennaisance song.

A Most Engaging Paradox

I am currently having difficulty typing right now. My arm had, until yesterday, been in a sling after being injured during a mugging I was involved in. The mugging itself (last December 29th, early evening) should have been humiliating, since I am a martial artist and I am used to taking care of myself. But, as they say, even Napoleon tasted defeat, and the best Olympic athletes do not always maintain their "gold streak"—so, I don't feel as bad as maybe I should. I am glad that the injury I sustained when I fell of the moving vehicle was as light as it is. I am, in fact, happy to still be alive and missing only my cellphone, while others less fortunate had arrived in the same ER that I was brought to either dead or permanently maimed.

But I must admit, I was severely disappointed that day. Not because of the muggers—that was their "job"—but by the passers-by. I had been used to assuming that Pinoys are, generally speaking, nice people that still possess the "bayanihan" spirit and will readily help any other Pinoy in need. When I hit the pavement face first at cruising speed, that was what I expected. When women and children started surrounding me, I expected them to help me. Instead, they proceeded to rob me. I was conscious but stunned, and now even more stunned when they took the bag of CDs I had (containing the wedding pictures of a friend and not pirated movies, as the perps obviously expected) and attempted to take my watch off. My brother, who jumped out of the speeding vehicle, put a stop to that, and they all melted away into the crowd, leaving me and my brother behind in the middle of the road. I am quite sure that the vast majority of Pinoys probably have more Bayanihan and Christmas spirit, but we met none of them there.

Thanks to the mugger's ingenuity, he tried to "PasaLoad" the money loaded in my cellphone to his cellphone; thanks to my ingenuity, anytime he tries to send SMS, my cellphone would automatically send it to my wife. He sent his cellphone number to my wife. And, so there I was, injured and in pain, but smug with the knowledge that once the police gets a hold of his cellphone number, they can track him down using SMART's Person Finder^[1][2] or, if they are too low-tech, they can at least find a way to use it. I mean, after the glowing reports they show on TV, right?

My faith in Pinoy law enforcement was over-rated. When we went to report it to the police, they were bewildered over what they had to do. Even the mug-shots they showed me didn't help. They, at first, didn't understand how I got the mugger's cellphone number and, when they finally did a half-hour later, they didn't know what to do. Their best solution is to wait until they catch a mugger in the act and, if he's the same guy, then... then... even I don't know what they plan to do next. From overwhelming optimism that I would be able to get my cellphone back soon to knowing full well that, once again, crime is made to pay yet again because of the mediocrity of Pinoy law enforcement (I shouldn't be surprised, since Chavit Singson is still not in prison).


Why is this, then, a paradox? My wife and I have been discussing things. We both admit that government and law enforcement in Australia is so much better than here in the Philippines. We both admit that it is safer for people in Melbourne than in Metro Manila. And yet both of us are adamant about raising our children in the Philippines rather than in Australia. Why? Shouldn't a better, more civilized society be a better environment to raise children? Why is it that, after admitting that we (my wife and I) stand a better chance of thriving in Australia than here in the Philippines, would still regard the Philippines as the best place to raise a family (that is, as long as the financial aspects are dealth with). And, for the longest time, neither of us can think of an answer.

It was all so obvious, of course. A better society doesn't necessarily mean better people. Ærynn, who used to want to raise kids in Oz, now sees that kids raised there are not better people, and are only brought under control later as adults by a better government and law enforcement. When I discussed this with an American friend of mine, who himself thinks that raising kids in the Philippines is better than doing so back in the USA, we both admitted that for all their vaunted government and law enforcement, "Western" people are sissies. All one has to do is watch them in other cultures and see how they cope—very badly (with the rare exception of some missionaries, who are more at home with indeginous cultures anyway than with western culture). In the end, we realized that even if the Philippines is not as well governed and guarded, and is a state of virtual anarchy, it is that anarchy that allows more freedom to raise better as well as worse individuals.

Child discipline, for example, is better implemented (and better abused, I admit) here. Whereas in most "Western" societies, one is carefully monitored. This, of course, prevents a lot of abuses that are readily apparent in the Philippines; however it also handicaps otherwise good parents from raising their children better. Everybody is made equal.

This is, of course, over-simplifying things, since "Western" countries are not one monolithic bloc. America is different from Australia, after all. In America and Australia, there are sectors of society that does allow the best of Pinoy upbriging. Yet, generally, not so.

One other thing is the relative attitudes towards religion and faith. While in "Western" countries, religion and faith are seen as "options," religion and faith right here are (inspite of the double standard and the justifying use of the Roman Catholic confessional) essential. Raising our kids to be God-fearing individuals is just more convenient here in the Philippines than anywhere else. This, even though a lot of Pinoys have learned not to fear God because of they penance they can do anyway (the real secret behind why organized crime in the Philippines doesn't collapse on itself). Father confessors and the confessional are very important aspects of organized crime, after all. Yet all that is better than a society that denies the existence of God and prevents you from exercising your conscience. I don't look forward to having to explain to my kids that believing in God is not unscientific.

I have not yet explored the other reasons why we feel this way. Maybe Ærynn can give better insights from her point of view; after all, she's actually living in an Australian society. Please note, though, that this is just our intentions as it is now. We are still open to finding ways to raise our kids properly in Australia.


W hile surfing, I cam across a few sites that have helped shape and clarify my position. I am listing some (not all) of them down below. I will add to the list when I have the time.

• http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1581344589/104-0688693-6767140?v=glance&n=283155
• http://www.techcentralstation.com/111005B.html
• http://www.leaderu.com/focus/intdesign.html
• http://www.newyorkmag.com/nymetro/news/columns/imperialcity/14721/
• http://www.oudaily.com/vnews/display.v/ART/2005/12/01/438e6ec1e7e2c
• 
  

Catholic Church no longer swears by truth of the Bible

I didn't make that title up. That was the title of a "news report" about the Roman Catholic stance on Intelligent Design. I don't know how biased the writer is, but it appears that the Roman Catholic church "supporting" Darwinism is big news simply because it is the Catholic Church (you know, the uber-conservative "Christian" church of the world) that is seemingly supporting it.

Of course, I don't know what Pope Benedict thinks about all this. And not all Catholics, I presume, believes that. But I would like, again, to call attention to the fact that the RCC is willing to compromise on the important issue of the creatorship of God but is adamant about their stance on priestly celibacy (which the apostles never followed) or transubstantiation (which is even more unscientific than anything I know). Perhaps that accusations of the RCC being Babylon the Harlot is true after all, although I never would have guessed such strange bedfellows.

Scuba diving are for those who can swim underwater

Among those books which my wife and I count as one of our favorites is the perennial favorite Pride and Prejudice. One of the surest ways to get my wife tingling with nostalgia is to quote to her that "[i]t is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife." We loved the book; and we also loved the mini-series that BBC made... the one with Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle. The book was high romance and poignant fiction. I have met very few here in the Philippines that think highly of the book. I have also yet to see any local "rendition" of this book in any Pinoy movie or tele-serye, which I thought was strange. While Helen Fielding, creator of Bridget Jone's Diary, had to create different situations to make the basic plot believable, I am quite sure that an "authentic" Pinoy rendition is possible if handled correctly.

There are some who think that this would not be very easy, and I would agree with them, but I suspect that they have other reasons for thinking that it is a difficult undertaking. For one thing, I suspect that even Pinoys have this feeling that whatever the situation in Georgian England is irrelevant to that of modern Philippines, probably even more irrelevant than it is for modern Great Britain. If that is how they feel, I would disagree. If there was any place in the world that still discriminates people based on the highness and lowness of birth, the quality of connections, the power granted by owning land and having money, and the over-bearing sense of propriety, that would be turn-of-the-millenium Philippines for you, right down to the dot.

If I had a peso for every time I heard a fellow Pinoy talk about another Pinoy using the the phrase "Sino ba ang nanay at tatay niyan? Sino ba ang pamilya niyan?" I guess I'd have enough to purchase myself a really good MP3 player (perhaps I should have wished for a twenty-peso bill for every time I heard it). Of course, Pinoys may argue that that isn't the case at all and that all Pinoys have equal opportunity to get ahead in the world. What a lovely sentiment... unfortunately, so very trite. One only has to see how people get positions not only in government but in companies to see that one's pedigree is so vastly important that one has to be so shockingly brilliant in order to penetrate the "inner circle." If this were not true, there would be no political and socio-economic "dynasties" in the Philippines. Unfortunately, like the Gardiner's in Pride and Prejudice, sometimes intellect and wit are not enough to get them accepted unless one of their own would marry into a good family.

Connections, too, are very important in determining your place in the socio-economic heirarchy, just as much as it was in Jane Austen's time. It is who you know that is important, and this is a simple test. A new graduate's chances of getting a really good job is determined, first of all, by that graduate's alma mater, connection number one. If one is unfortunate enough not to graduate from any of the "ivy league" universities, there is still a chance, but one should know somebody in that company/institution one wants to join... and the more powerful that somebody, the better the position that can be offered (connection number two). I suspect that most of the jobs that people hold are not found through the classifieds so much as they are "internally" advertised to those friends, family and acquaintances of the existing employees. Even getting Ninongs and Ninangs and a batch of friends and acquaintances are based on whom you already know. Again, just as discrimination by pedigree, one must be smarter than a whip in order to be able to circumvent this, but even then, not by much.

Of course, one can get away with being rude, ill-bred and generally obnoxious if one is filthy rich. The Bingley sisters and Lady Catherine de Bourgh can afford their high-handed, high-brow attitudes only because they have personal fortunes, in the same way that Kris Aquino and Ruffa Guttierez-Bektas can get away with behavior that would have gotten severe ostracization if they were less moneyed, lower pedigreed and not so well connected. And they are just the more obvious examples. In the meantime, the poorer, humbly pedigreed and poorly connected folks must make vigilantly sure that their manners are impeccable (no matter how brilliant or talented they are) when with their more fortunate brethren, if they want to keep whatever station they currently have.

But all this is not my point. My point is that, a Filipinized version of Pride and Prejudice can be so accurately and faithfully adapted even for modern Pinoy society. I mean, those jologs who lap up "Jewel in the Palace" and other imported mini-series enjoy them, no matter how sophisticated their plots are and no matter how subtle the dramatic acting; so, why shouldn't they go crazy over a Pinoy Pride and Prejudice? Well-written and well-adapted, it can provide a social mirror to our society, much better than the over-used comedy motifs and archetypes that Philippine TV is crawling with. And the ratings can go through the roof.

But maybe I am too optimistic. My wife used to hide her love for these sort of books and suppress the natural desire to discuss social issues when she was still here in the Philippines because Pinoys, in general, hate such tendencies. If I've heard it once, I've heard it a thousand times: "Masyado kang bookish" or "Masyado kang seryoso" (I wish I had a hundred pesos for every time I heard it—it would be enough to allow me to purchase my own condominium). So many Pinoys are so bent on finding something to laugh at that they would hear the same old stale variations of "wala kayo sa lolo ko" and think it is the funniest thing in the world (one reason why I like Michael V. over Dolphy and Vic Sotto any day—because he finds innovative jokes that are also subtle satires of Pinoy society. . . now, there's a wit!). Even in Australia, where she is now, where she can express her love of books without seeming to be "wierd" my wife would have to occassionally clam up when she is with expats from the Philippines.

In fact, the more I think of it, the less optimistic I become. When Noli Me Tangere and El Filibusterismo were made into what I consider well-made mini-series, it never broke any ratings records. Not for lack of trying, but rather because of a deficiency of "connections" and "pedigree"—it was made by PTV 4 with a low budget, almost no promotion, and with no big-name stars like Vilma or Nora. Whereas a zany series like Full House or and even the infamous Meteor Garden became a part of pinoy pop culture (down to their ridiculous haircuts and misogynism) only because they were shown on the mega-networks. If a Pinoy Pride and Prejudice were to be produced in any network but GMA 7 or ABS-CBN 2, and not starring any of the big-names, I guess one shouldn't expect it to be successful, no matter how well-crafted.

Who would want to watch Pride and Prejudice? Mas nakaka-aliw to watch Dolphy do the nth variation of his stale joke, or see Vic cavorting around as if he's as young as his grown-up son, or view over-melodramatic pilit na tear-jerkers with over-acting "big name" actors yelling and crying all over the place. Thank God that the Koreans and Kiwis are much more sensible, and create stuff that we can import and enjoy. . . and hopefully inspire some of our young ones to someday reform our entertainment industry.


So. . . what has this to do with scuba diving? Well, those who content themselves to wade at the beach will only hope to see so much gray sand and other people. Only those scuba divers who dare and are willing to go deeper are granted with the privelege to gaze at wonders and come back with stories to tell.

The Catholic Church is Compromising in the Wrong Direction

I have always viewed the Roman Catholic Church to be reactionary in the worst possible ways (notwithstanding that the last Pope, Pope John Paul II, seems to have been the best Pope), but this takes the cake. I couldn't believe that the RCC would compromise on such an important issue as the origins of the universe and of the species by calling "Intelligent Design" not a science and should not be taught as an alternative to Darwinian evolution.

The Rev. George Coyne, the Jesuit director of the Vatican Observatory, said placing intelligent design theory alongside that of evolution in school programs was "wrong" and was akin to mixing apples with oranges.

"Intelligent design isn't science even though it pretends to be," the ANSA news agency quoted Coyne as saying on the sidelines of a conference in Florence. "If you want to teach it in schools, intelligent design should be taught when religion or cultural history is taught, not science."

The RCC would not compromise on priestly celibacy, or the role of women in the church, the merit system of the Saints or even Papal infallibility (yes, I am aware of the qualification that infallibility only extends ex cathedra), but whoa! they are willing to compromise when it comes to calling the theory (that we all descended from just one organism in just a few billion years) as science while teaching the belief that we were created by one God as not science?

I suspect that this is reactionism, plain and simple. The RCC are recently giving the appearance that the affair with Galileo is not an instance of Papal infallibility displaying fallibility, i.e. that the Pope wasn't using his claim to Papal infallibility. But the embarassment of having Galileo, whom they tagged with the label "heretic" and had under house arrest all his life, even if it wasn't under the assumption of Papal infallibility, as being right all along may have contributed to their more recent view of keeping science and "religion" separate. In short, they are claiming the right to believe anything they want even if it is contradicted by science; in this case, their belief that the universe, and us along with it, was created by an intelligent entity called God.

This is a cunning move on their part, as most of their beliefs can be, and has been, disproved by science. Transubstantiation, for instance. By calling the belief in God as creator not science, I suspect that they feel that they can now continue with their unscientific beliefs on one hand, while on the other delve and contribute to the very science that contradicts their belief. This, in my opinion, is dishonest. And I believe that Rev. Coyne is very dishonest, if he both believes that the universe began and was developed by chance and that, after all, God "created" the world. In fact, I am curious as to what he believes "creation" is.

Which is a shame, because "Intelligent Design" is a science as much as Darwinian evolution is. Both handle the same data, both make conjectures over periods we no longer have access too, and both have tenets that we have to take on faith. We either trust that Darwin was right or wrong, and it seems that the RCC would rather have Darwin be right (with the condition that the Roman Catholic Church, within it's own sphere, can also be as right) than have the Protestants show that Darwin and the Catholic Church are wrong.

I'm some kinda unknown, but cool OS

I took this online personality quiz, supposedly to match you with a computer Operating System that you most closely resemble in terms of "personality." This is what Ærynn and I both got (wow! lovely...).


Which OS are You?


I'm curious to find the descriptions of the other OSes. For instance, what makes a person a Windows ME? Well, I found it here. Wow... people hate Windows ME. And I thought I was the only one.

Colors of Christmas "teaser trailer"

I 've been trying out several free video hosts so that I can, at last, post videos here on the Blog. I tried the free service of Google Video (which is currently in Beta) and, although the video quality has not degraded, for some reason the sound has. Oh, well! It's still in Beta after all, and Google can still improve. If you want to see the Google Video version, click here.

Instead, I got better results when I tried out OurMedia.org, which was recommended by FreeVlog.org, which is a site that provides a tutorial on how to video blog, hence the portmaneau "vlog." The initial result can be seen below.



This is the "teaser trailer" of my local church's Christmas Concert, which I made. It was shown some weeks ago during Sunday Worship services to encourage people to support, join or do both for the upcoming concert. I am very pleased with the results of this new service.

A rant on work ethics

One thing has become so very personal for me, so very personally hateful to me is a perception of my uselessness. I guess it is the only part of me that I can describe as unrepentantly machismo. But I hate it with all of my heart when people think that I am of no help.

Black and White, and Shades of Gray

This is an Adobe Photoshop color swatch toolbox. As a child, we were led to believe that there were only seven colors. Later that collection of colors was extended, first to sixteen, then to thirty-two, then to sixty-four (for those fortunate enough to afford those boxed Crayola sets), and then even later we were told that there were only, really, just three colors. Of course, sky blue, perriwinkle and dodge blue are very different colors and, for the longest time I didn't know what made them different from each other and all the other types of blue. And that's just the color blue.

Later on, when I learned about "computer" colors in my programming language class, I found that there are, actually, different sets of primary colors. I had always thought that it was Blue, Yellow and Red; now I was being told that it was actually either Red, Green and Blue, or Cyan, Magenta and Yellow. We learned to look at long color charts for the numerical equivalents of displaying colors properly; we also learned that different machines will display the "same" color differently. As a consequence, we learned to "cheat" our displays so that we can actually come up with the color we actually want, regardless of what the color chart says it really is. For instance, when Pink doesn't look pink enough, we use a light shade of some violet/purple color.

And, at around that time, I learned how to use, first of all, MS Paint and then Adobe Photoshop. And this box over there at the top of this post (which is an Adobe Photoshop color swatch toolbox) became very familiar. But, for some reason, we always knew that blue was blue, red was red, yellow was yellow, etc. etc.

About two years ago, my wife (then my girl friend) found a way to enroll me into an art class. She knew that I always dreamed, wished and fantasized about doing my own paintings and, thanks to Chords and Canvas (a project she was working on at that time) she found where I can finally realize my dream, wish and fantasies (all in that order).

Arroz caldo straight from the heart

My favorite dish has always been Arroz caldo in all it's permutations. For most Pinoys, arroz caldo only refers to that type made with chicken, the most usual type. Other types are referred to as either goto or congee if the meat used is beef tripe or meat dumplings, and lugaw if it doesn't have any meat in it at all. Technically, all these are arroz caldo, just as Colgate is just another type of toothpaste; Colgate, by the by, is the "generic" term for toothpaste for a lot of Pinoys for decades, only slowly changing during the last decade of the last century. Well, as I said, arroz caldo is my favorite dish and my favorite version of it is arroz caldo de bulalo.

For the past few weeks, I've already made three batches of this my favorite dish, but not because it is my favorite dish. I've been making this because my niece's favorite solid food dish is my arroz caldo. Of course, my brother and siste-in-law have already been trying to feed her some solid or semi-solid food. On the whole, she wasn't a picky eater, but only with arroz caldo did she display any sort of fondness, actually holding her mouth open to be fed, occassionally grabbing the spoon to put it in her mouth herself and crying if she still wants more. I mean, really, how can I resist? I am also her godfather after all.

Of course, I have to tone down my recipe so that it wouldn't be as spicy as I am wont to make it. Here is my modified recipe, based on my Mom's way of cooking it, henceforth called Arroz caldo de manok ala Dayang:

What did the fool say in his heart?

"Last week a middle-ranking officer of the Salvation Army, who gave up a well-paid job to devote his life to the poor, attempted to convince me that homosexuality is a mortal sin.

Late at night, on the streets of one of our great cities, that man offers friendship as well as help to the most degraded and (to those of a censorious turn of mind) degenerate human beings who exist just outside the boundaries of our society. And he does what he believes to be his Christian duty without the slightest suggestion of disapproval. Yet, for much of his time, he is meeting needs that result from conduct he regards as intrinsically wicked."

At last, an atheist finally admits that religious people are actually better human beings than those who claim that their creed is humanism (http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2005/sep/12/religion.uk).

And yet he still does not see this as proof that God exists but rather as the sort of mental delusion that just so happens to make them better human beings (no surprise there). And that is just one atheist; the others still think they hold the moral high-ground and believe that religious automatically means evil.

Another Alibi?

A lot of things were wrong with T² from the very beginning, although I was too thankful that they hired me without a lot of questions asked. I had nothing to be ashamed of, of course; it's just that I've always been subjected to the rather heart-breaking experience of being passed over so many times because of my alma mater. Also, initially, the training that they gave us during the first month was well-paced and well-designed and, although my impressions of the people I was going to work with on the first day was not so positive, I was fortunate to finally be put on a team whose members were not rambunctious and generally people I enjoy being with. It was also nice that we were being paid during that period, before we were technically doing any real work, and that pay was the highest I ever got in the Philippines.

It was much later, when our product training started that we had our first intimations of disaster looming on the horizon. Compared to the accent-neutralization training we received (ACE), which was, as I stated, paced, designed and balanced well, this was hurried, with no clear statement of our goals or objectives, incidental in treatment... basically not really training us for what we should be trained for. I mean, after all that big talk on the first day that our ACE and product training would be seamless and interspersed, we were disappointed and disillusioned to see that there was actually a clear demarcation line between ACE and product, and that the only ones benefitting from the product training are those who've already undergone that sort of training in another company.

Still, I thought that I can handle it... and why shouldn't I? I, who prided myself on learning computers more swiftly than others? I, who (in my hubris) gloried over the nickname given to me by friends of "The Machine" because of my skill and know-how in anything mechanical or electronic? Why shouldn't I pass this easily? I wasn't looking out to be the best; I just want to be good enough.

But, so tedious to relate, the training claimed even those of us who believed we were "techies" as victims: we just weren't understanding enough of it on time. Still, our team performed much better than all the other teams, due probably in no small part to the introspective nature of those on the team; but we were not happy being the best. Being the best means being the first on the floor, and we knew that we needed much more training that we had. Even when we tried to ask questions, we were always told in that annoying North American accent to just "figure it out."

I suddenly felt what it was like for a raw recruit with just a month of basic training before being sent into a battlefield, where your first mistake will always count... well not quite—technically, we had almost two months before we hit the floor, but you know what I mean.

Actually, I wasn't so bad. I sounded and talked like an American well enough for the clients to think that I was, and for a while that was all that mattered. I was there to help people, and helping people (as I was accustomed to) took focus and time. Especially time. It was only when my team leader told me I wasn't doing it fast enough that I even had any inkling that I was doing something wrong. That's when everything started going wrong. Suddenly, we were all counting our AHTs and ATTs (that's Average Handling Time and Average Talk Time in newspeak), feeling irritated at the occassional grandma who just wouldn't put the phone down because they knew that we hadn't really helped them enough yet. Our goal was to help our clients within 14 minutes. FOURTEEN, FREAKIN' MINUTES!!! I mean, gee! I guess I can, if I didn't have to give all of the prescribed opening, troubleshooting and closing scripts that make me sound like an intelligent robot. I guess I can squeeze all of the help if all we had to do was "help" them. But we were supposed to document everything while helping them, that is, we were supposed to be typing like crazy everything that we did.

But I think I can handle even that. I'm a touch-typist after all. What was so illogical and unhelpful is that we were supposed to troubleshoot according to a fixed and immutable flow-chart. It didn't matter if the agent before me had already done that, even with access to his/her "notes" I was supposed to go through it all over again. And it wouldn't matter that I had already done all that, and painstakingly recorded all of it, too. The agent that the client would have to call because I was not able to "resolve" the problem within the prescribed time will, also, have to go through the same steps.

And, though it pains me, I know I can handle even that. Yet, for those few cases that training did not prepare us for, we had to rely on our "floor support" which is basically a few knowledgeable individuals who have actually handled the "product" and can answer specific questions. But with thirty or more people in our team, of more than three teams, start waving our help-me flags, they cannot help all of us at once (and with our AHTs still ticking away). Even when they eventually came over to "help" us, the North American Caucasians (who were our trainers and our floor support) would merely tell us that "we took that up in training" (when was that?) and tha we should "figure it out." Even now, the phrase "figure it out" has become a sort of swear word to us Pinoys. That first week was the breaking point for me and a lot of my teammates. My scores on quality were really good, that is, inspite of my terrible AHTs (the longest of which was almost an hour and a half long), because I knew how to get a banter going. But the first time that was the worst day, which was some time later, also proved to be my last day. I spontaneously developed S.A.D.

This was a bitter pill for me to swallow. I had faced down principals, angry parents and idiotic teenagers in the past without flinching, without fear, then suddenly found myself having an irrational panic attack during a call. And knowing that it was an irrational panic attack was not helpful... it made me even more anxious... it didn't help that I was talking to a client that had such a thick French accent and couldn't understand a word he was saying. Somehow I finished the call, but I knew that I never want to take a call ever again. I excused myself quickly from my Pinoy teamleader and the pretty but insensitive caucasian trainer. All admonitions not to quit fell on not so deaf but definitely numb ears... I wanted out and I wanted out now. By the time I got home, I had a splitting headache, my heart was beating so fast and, though exhausted, couldn't go to sleep.

It didn't help that I knew why I was experiencing such. After weeks of being "weighed and measured and found wanting" (something I have always hated), suddenly being thrust into a situation where one is judged on literally a minute-by-minute basis on rules that are unfair yet unchangeable triggered that panic attack. I have not told anyone but my wife because I, of course, fear judgement. "Coward" and "quitter" are just some of the milder translations of their Tagalog equivalents. The thing is, the actual practice of taking a call and helping them blindly while on the phone isn't new to me—I've done it for years with friends, students and former employers alike. I'm used to talking to caucasians. But having a dagger continually over one's head all that time, and being constantly reminded of it everytime we look at the timer on the Avaya web phone was just too much. I never want to work at another call centre ever again if I can help it. Even if some of my co-workers (now unemployed like me) assure me that other call centres are not as strict, I know for a fact that all of them operate on equations that compute erlangs. Basically, it means that I shall always be judged on how swiftly I end a call rather on how good I was at a call. No thank you.

Although I realize that I shouldn't be ashamed of that panic attack when it happened, I find that I cannot talk about it with others. I definitely didn't bring it up when discussing it with my family or my in-laws, that's for certain. Mom had always wondered why, as a young teen, I developed stage-fright; I had always performed in front of people, and performed well. I became ashamed of this stage-fright or jitters and have, over the years, successfully gotten rid of it. I still feel uncomfortable speaking in public, but I never feel anxiety or panic any longer. So, my intellect reasons out, I shouldn't be ashamed because even entertainers like Donny Osmond would spontaneously suffer from Social Anxiety Disorder (SAD, for short) at the height of his career. I reason to myself that I only experienced such because I hated to be judged that rigorously (I had also been "assessed" before in my other jobs, of course, but they never came minute-by-minute and over things out of my control).

But still, I feel ashamed. I feel that I cannot hope for understanding. I was making more money than at any time in my life, and for some that should have settled things.


It was only later that a lot of us would read the opinions of North Americans about outsourcing—basically, they thought that we were taking away jobs meant for them. When I went through the resignation process and the exit interview, I found that T² didn't care so much if so many of us resigned. For one, there were always more of us waiting to be hired, so we were as replaceable as a broken lightbulb. Another thing was that, high as our salaries were, we were relatively dirt cheap, so our American employers' collective pockets didn't ache if a lot of us resigned, even if they seemingly "wasted" their resources on training us for two months. We were peanuts. Of course, with that knowledge, even if our salaries were relatively high, knowing that on the grand scheme of things we were not as highly valued as we would have liked to believe (a weakness, I admit, amongst Pinoys), hastened the departure of those whom I left behind. It also gave us some insight over the perceived tendency of the North Americans reluctance to teach and help us Indios—was there an agenda somewhere?

Of course, one can read this entire post as rant and alibi, written by one so anxious to justify oneself. There are many, another one may reason, who find that they can stay in call centres with no problem at all. And knowing that there are some who think that way makes me feel more ashamed still. But my parting shot is this: while we were still there, we had a name for those who eventually proved hardy enough to remain. We called them "asses" and, though they had amazing 5-10 minute AHTs, they were the ones that give "phone technical support" the reputation of being unhelpful, uninformed and rude.

Archive of SayBox messages

Total shouts: 28

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crazyfoxycool:
Happy birthday, Ate Chris!!!

slaxxgurl:
andanda ng comp!!!

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Gryphon Hall:
Well done, Ærynn! At last, you are writing the sort of posts I was expecting from you.

Gryphon Hall:
Thanks, Slaxx! Really appreciate it.

slaxxgurl:
know what sir, you can make a concept book out of your blog...really good topics...

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eldzey:
iba ka talaga kuya jo ang galing mo! thank you talaga

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ethereal07:
hi sir! musta no po?
pede po ba matanong kung pano niyo po nagawa itong "say box" thing and how did you make your blog's baskground like this. that is if it's okay.
kimi, as in kimi ng first year (dati) or kimi ng mars?

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Gryphon Hall:
By the way, Valerie, check your comments on your blog.

Gryphon Hall:
Well, you can find my wedding pics by following this link: -link-

Valerie:
hi sir... this is valerie... i am still using my blog!! how are you?? i want to see your wedding pics... were can i possibly find them? thanks!!

kimi:
i'm gonna link you sir if that's fine with you.

kimi:
we have the same tagboard. hehe. kimberly here sir. just bouncin' by. have a great day.

Gryphon Hall:
Thanks! I think so, too!

slaxxgurl:
ahmm...know what...eowyn claire's really cool and cute...hehehe

slaxxgurl:
woohoo! the slacker was here! hehehe

Christine:
Happy now dat iv posted something? I enjoy ur musings!
Christine was here!

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I've been using SayBox for some time now. But I've changed to ShoutBox because SayBot keeps on bugging me with ads. I mean, I understand that these guys have to make a buck for a living. But if there is an alternative to this that is still free, I'm alright with it.

At any rate, I included the archive of all my "shouts" from SayBox right there on the right. Maybe someday I can port it to my ShoutBox? Or, maybe not. Who knows?