Why is Ka Noli so silent?

Another journalist has been gunned down in my country, this time a radio announcer from Samar. This brings to eight the count of dead journalists in this year, and 60 since Mrs Arroyo assumed power.

We, as Filipino citizens, have a responsibility to hear, see, and feel this as a grave threat against our basic freedoms.

Please, please, PLEASE email Ka Noli de Castro, our "Working Vice-President," and plead with him to speak out against these killings.

Go to Open Letter to VP de Castro and copy, edit, and send it to the feedback section of the Office of the Vice President.

Spread the word about those who speak for thousands.

Protect those who seek out information and alert the world.

Stand up for those who have god-given courage, skill, and temerity to bring you your news.

Our journalists may not always cover the things that we are most interested in. We may disagree with their views or even ridicule them for the way that they dispense them. But we cannot, as a free nation, tolerate their harassment or violent treatment, nor can we abide the inaction by local and national government in bringing the killers and the masterminds even within earshot of justice.

Take action. Email Ka Noli de Castro, and ask him to speak out against these killings and for him to take action, too.

Go to Open Letter to VP de Castro and copy it, edit it, and send it to our "Working Vice-President." (http://www.ovp.gov.ph)

You can also scroll down my notes here on FB to find the same letter. This is a simple act that can affect us all. God knows, killing journalists is already changing our nation into the second most dangerous place for journalists, only after Iraq.

For the record, please leave a comment here so that people can see that we don't turn deaf ears and blind eyes to these crimes. Feel free to post this on your FB page or wherever.

As a writer, I thank you. - Carlos

RTR 08 - WEB POSTER

Link

Solb na ang transpo

RTR 08 - WEB POSTER

Link

Solb na ang transpo

0-1-0

Fundamentally, every digital device as we know it is created from binary code, 0/1, which really means On/Off or closed-/open-circuit. This is in tangent to the article on NSA encryption reevaluation that I just read, but as I was fascinated by it, I remembered all the times that I realize that I have no idea how the world works. We've built such a comfortable sconce of things, mechanical marvels and angels pirouetting on microchips, machines that service machines, and pulsating energy, mere information! that actually forms virtual things—quite literally unclaspable facsimiles, concepts held over from our recent history and obsolete memory; of pen and ink, fire and stone, oral history, music, and life with yet uninspired, insinuated lungs.

That we have technologies literally built one on top of the other like some haphazard, damn-the-future-archaeolog

ists-who-will-root-through-this-for-their-PhD-on-some-digital-genealogy-course way is simply stunning.

(I read another article on a new search engine that is trying to one-up—or down—google etc by accepting loooooooong strings of text to find specific articles. Apparently, the google search system has loopholes in that it has a 32-keyword limit, it finds data based on popularity, and others, all of which—according to the creators of this new technology—only fetches 1% of all internet content. Therefore, there is a hundred times more internet than we lay people imagine or have come in contact with. The concept of this search is called deepdyve. )

While I abhor the use of "literally" when people oft mean "virtually," or "metaphorically speaking," or "exaggeratingly yours, Helen," we are at the cooling point of the melding universe of our creation. "Virtual" and "real" are solidifying, the duality is such that floating bits of information can be shooed away and stirred to life like phosphorescent plankton displaying its utmost fragility.

I made a prediction in front of a Facebook worker in Cafe Bean on Sutter St: the next major terrorist attack won't be an A-bomb in a football stadium parking lot during halftime. It will be digital, maybe an EMP, it will decimate our digital lives, and for a second, everyone will stop, tap their mouses, try to scroll, reboot, and give up. Some will give up. Some will inevitably make new stuff up from a DOS floppy disk that he saved and framed for nostalgic purposes. I guess that's why we should all keep a hammer handy.

Hoy! Gising!

Another journalist slain brings up the number of deaths since GMA's 2001 ascendance to the presidency to 54. (Click to read the The Age article.)

As grievous a loss of precious life as this is, this is more alarming when we see that the Philippines is the most dangerous place to work as a journalist, second only to Iraq.

These are not victims of bad spelling, punctuation, or mixed metaphors. These, almost to a victim, are reported to be critical of the rampant, RAMPANT corruption in the Philippines.

Let it be known that Vice President Noli de Castro was one of the most popular news anchorpersons in the Philippines since press freedom was reinstituted after the fall of the Marcos dictatorship.

What does the Veep have to say about this? He had a TV show, "Hoy Gising!" which means, "Hey! Wake Up!" which exposed ineffective governance. I used to watch this a LOT growing up and I know that most Filipinos did, too.

And now, no one can sound the call to government leaders and concerned citizenry alike, not only because they are dead, but because they are being terrorized to death. Contact VP Noli "Kabayan" de Castro ("countryman") to urge him to publicly comment on this and take steps to find the murderers of his fallen colleagues.

Copy, edit, and paste the letter below and visit http://www.ovp.gov.ph/ to send "the working vice president" a Hoy! Gising! email.

=======letter begins=======

Dear Kabayan, Vice President Noli de Castro,

Throughout the years, we have looked up to you as a patriot and a voice for us all who suffered the slow movement of justice and progress. As a young man, you joined DWWW in an era when it was heroic to simply wear the press badge, and it was unthinkable to speak out and stand up against the strangling administration of Marcos and his cronies.

Years later, after a fruitful period of liberty and nationalism, you became the golden voice of Filipino news.

Your run for the Senate (as an independent, a lone voice amidst the machinery of vote-buying and election swindling) you were supported by 16 million Filipinos when you ran for Senator.

When you won, you authored Senate Bill No. 2029 or the "Local Government Transparency Act" which aimed to end corruption through transparency measures in the local government units.

Today, your responsibilities include looking out for OFWs and the working class' housing opportunities and more as Head of the National Price Coordinating Council.

But what we need now, Kabayan Vice President, is help in securing press freedom and vigilance against corruption and poor governance, as you once did in your days with DZMM and ABSCBN. The Philippines ranks the highest in journalist deaths, second only to a war zone, Iraq. Surely, you remember the fear of retribution when you uncovered and reported on irregularities and inaction in your time as the most popular and influential newsman in the Philippines.

We need your voice and your action again today to stop the violence against journalists who are alerting our countrymen to the misdeeds of our elected officials. Please make a statement denouncing these killings and intimidation of the greatest symbol of our liberty, the right to free speech.

Your historic Senate Bill 2029 will be useless if the transparency you advocated will be overshadowed by fear and stained with the blood of your fallen colleagues. Please act on their behalf, as they have acted on the behalf of the Filipino people.

Sincerely,
Your name here

====letter ends=====

Copy, edit, and paste this onto the comment field on http://www.ovp.gov.ph/

"Evil prevails when good men do nothing."

An OpenLetter2.0 to ABS-CBN (A Philippine News Organization)

An OpenLetter2.0 is a letter that you can copy, edit, and send to the prescribed recipients to add your voice to the content of the letter. By swarming the recipient with the same letter or sentiment, we can show that we are watching, thinking, and acting.

Carlos

=======letter begins==========

Please stop comparing Jojo Binay (or any aspirant-du-jour) to Barack Obama. Obama is an outsider who is promising change in business-as-usual Washington. Binay has used his wife and, sure enough, his son to get around term limits and perpetuate his hold on Makati. Makati, despite being the highest revenue earning city in the Philippines, is still Manila-as-usual with undisciplined policemen, traffic enforcers, and PUV drivers. If not for Ayala's high property values and the trickling down from Binay's "pro-poor" projects, he would have been voted out a long time ago.

send to: feedback@abs-cbnnews.com

Abstinence As An Option

Prop 8, California's vote on whether 'marriage' can be applied to couples of the same sex, should never have been put on the ballot. Again: since when has life and love been something to debate? It is indeed a cruel world thrust upon our generation—and generations before—where we align ourselves on the death penalty, abortion, and now, same-sex marriage upon such a simplistic Either/Or tableau.

What is on the ballot IS NOT, "Do mothers have the right to kill their unborn child?"

It IS NOT, "Is homosexuality deviant and therefore an affront to what 'marriage' or 'family' is?"

It IS NOT, "Does a heinous crime warrant the ultimate punishment?"

What IS on the ballot is fear, mistrust, intolerance, an insecurity that society will not support ME when my life is in others' hands.

If you voted, whether 'yea' or 'nay', the fact that our capacity as humans to show compassion and solidarity is defined by a show of hands is an indictment of us all. We will point fingers long after any decision is made, because a decision was foolishly required.

California should have abstained on this. Unfortunately, the excitement that "my vote" really mattered in a historic election bubbled over into a giddiness that overlooked voters' ability to—in case of defeat—accept the democratic outcome. After all, you could practically hear the marching band on Election Day playing "If God Be With Us, Who Can Be Against Us?"

This is one case where snubbing the ballot would have drummed just as loudly, if not louder.

The Bearer of News

Calling

I've found my muse in a new blog site, myspace.com/blarmey.

My new blog is there. I aim to see what I have here and transfer some over there if it's worthy at all in retrospect.

If you want to check out my music (rough, few, but heartfelt and true) please check out myspace.com/carlosgarch.

Then add me as a friend. I need more guy friends so that girls will like me for who I am, not because I am a pimp who brings her money.

Great Scot!

He speaky Engrish funniree.

http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoID=1246270671

Goodbye Hello Goodbye

Nothing in this world is meant to last. Not silence; nor pain; nor the rush of a drug that smoothes all kinks in the fabric of life.

It's Friday today. Interesting. A hot muggy day. Not much different from Manila. Except I am in San Francisco with a computer in an office overlooking the bay. It's 10:13 am and cloudy as hell outside and empty inside with exception to the painting students that randomly go in and out of the studio across the hall and Ted Roberts, online coordinator for the Advertising Department, whom I beat this morning to be the first in.

It's been 2 and a half months now since I left a beautiful one-bedroom on Polk St.--a long road that runs the length of San Francisco's social spectrum. Things haven't changed much from me. Still quietly haunting the streets of the city by the bay with my long hair unshaven face and eyes hidden behind sunglasses even when the sun don't shine.

Well, I have moved into a new apartment. Much smaller. A little more expensive. Cozier but lonelier in the midst of crackdealers, whores, and lunatics. A little piece of hell that is kept at bay by two steel gates.

Still, I am as isolated today as I ever was. Without the internet or television or radio, I am left to my own devices, playing the guitar, recording music, writing songs about my melancholy waiting for the day that I can write about how good my life is and how happy I would be to share this with someone or someones.

Ah, bullshit. Nothing ever changes. I've never been in a relationship more than 6 months except for once, and that was interrupted by a flight to America, where my destiny was written in making commercials. Selling things, ideas, and motivations to people is hard, but very rewarding when done well. It doesn't have to be a soulless job. After all, you can get people to act positively, support causes, even support corporations that have causes so that you can act through them if you are too busy or too self-consumed.

Nope. Never did.

The Finger

Hey all.

I want to break the notion that I only have things to say on this blog when things go wrong or when I am being persecuted by peons of agencies like "HRP". (Honestly, I thought that HRP meant either Human Resources / Personnel--or Honey, I Ripped My Pants, I'm not a very good spellar, you see.)

Well, if you MUST know, I'm still being persecuted, mostly by the front covers of Sports Illustrated who non-stop whisper things about me to the brides-to-be on the wedding magazines.

But my publicist (played by the man who lives in Fozzie Bear's finger) and HIS intern (played by the woman who lives OUTSIDE of Fozzie Bear's finger) each gave me a great idea.

The first was to throw away the alfalfa sprouts that had been in the fridge for far too long.

The second, though not as urgent as the first, was to post my advertising work on my blog. So that unlike *some* people, *I* have something to prove I exist. Because why would someone go on to create a fictitious person to create bad ads? While some bad advertisers ought to spend the rest of their days thinking about their careers, and whether they spelled spankalicious right or not (who, after all, does one consult when spelling of the word spankalicious?), I have more extroverted shameless self-promotion to do. Well, lucky for me, the woman who lives outside of Fozzie Bear's finger showed me the light, and told me there were no Es in spankalicious. Saving me the embarrassment and a mean bout with salmonella.

So this post is dedicated to the boys in blue who make up the characters in the "new" show, The Shield.

An awesome cast and great writing about a police district in crime-, gang-, drug-filled Farmington, Los Angeles. The temptation to steal, protect druglords, and be on the take for these characters is too great, especially when the lines of morality are blurred by the rising vapors of everyday life and the face-to-face enounters with death.

It's Not the Pale Moon That Excites Me

It was something like 25 days of rain that San Franciscans endured. Some say that this might be a Buiness Book of World Records record. Either that, or the Start Of Something Big.

But! Today was different. The sun shone from the instant I saw the yellow pavement. No, that was not a dog and its peenmanship. It was a humid morning. San Franciscans must have been ecstatic. You know how I know? Because I got this flattering email that I will print verbatim:



April 4

XXXXXXXXX (Harper's name withheld to protect his/her real identity)

Hey!

Making a list of the advertising department at the
academy. If you know someone who's name isn't on this,
please send it over or forward them this email. Puting
together a list for everyone's records. Will send out
a final email when the list is complete.

Blithe

p.s. I hope no one takes advantage of this list and
starts sending spam. just ad stuff please!



(OKAY, innocent enough. But what if it's a spammer? I (Carlos) choose to be on the cautious side)

Apr 5 (2 days ago)

Who are you and what is this for aside from a list "for everyone's records"? And for whom do you work?



(Sure, a bit standoffish. But who sends emails with the intention of getting this forwarded to multiples and chooses to start it with "Hey!", with poor spellchecking, and lowercase starts of sentences? Anyway, it gets better obviously.



Harper Blithe
to me

Apr 6

Oh yeah, I heard about you. Don't worry, I'm removing
you from the list. Everyone happily obliged. You
didn't. Typical.



(Ouchie! What the heck was that? Did I miss something? Well, obviously, the reputation precedes the man, but wow! I got slammed. Meanwhile, some girl thinks the email list is a great idea, and uses the email addresses to get some collaboration on a project of hers. Kudos, Harper! I, on the other hand, prepare my salvo.)




Carlos Garchitorena
to Harper, (bcc:alaushman), (bcc:aherre) ...
More options 12:32 am (22 minutes ago)
Dear Mr Blithe,

Obviously, you don't listen to what people tell you about me. And what's more, you expect me (and everybody) to happily oblige some mass email from a complete stranger who doesn't bother to clarify matters with a simple "I am so-and-so, and I want to create a network of students who can share creative insight, network, and show off their respective talents in an increasingly competetive world saturated with inane media and a dearth of cooperation--when our only objective is to further the consolidation of art and commerce for the good of Peace, Justice, and the American Way." Instead you admit a huge lack of foresight by including me in your well-meaning but unfortunately uninforming and informal email in which, when pressed for said clarification, you choose to be judgemental, shortsighted, and flatly sarcastic. And guess what? *I've never heard of you*. I'd rather be notorious than unknown. Furthermore, fuck you.

Yours Truly,
Carlos Garchitorena

ps: Attached are some screen shots re: your interesting name. Fitting.

pps: Anyone looking for a copywriter? email me blarmey@yahoo.com. About me: in need of intelligent discourse when brainstorming; I like: challenging briefs, concepts and consumer insight to reflect my fascination for "Eh?...Ahhhhh!" advertisements; my fave campaigns: the Economist, Comcastic, and my personal favorite, hybridcenter.org; when critiqueing/brainstorming, I will: 1) give it to you straight, 2) will never say "no", 3) will not stop at a mediocre idea; willing to teach and learn, but only in equal portions.



(Of course, true to form, I fail to attach the said picture files, but needless to say, the dictionary definitions of Harper Blithe are less-than-flattering.)



END OF COMMUNIQUE



So I will update you on the case of Garchitorena v Blithe.

Waiting In Line: An American's Birthright

So there I was, hanging out with my sister on her last night in San Francisco in the yuckie...I mean the yuppie hood called the Marina: salvaged land; reclaimed from the bay; doomed to be the first to swim at the first shake; reclaimed by the bay.

Something you have to understand about the place we were in. Not only the area which is pretty much fratboy/gainfully unemployed HQ, but the particular bar. Now there is no reason to flung dung because I think all these places in these areas are filled with those damn yanks (shout out to my pinsan "london") who think that bud light and skeet ball is just so fucking rad, so let's just call the place...hmmm...Mauna Loa to protect the hangout's identity. Cool?

So there's a cute little pool table with a good game...not bad...girl knew how to shoot...needed practice...the guy was doing good until he realized that he wasn't going to be king of the table for long. Some challengers had chalked up on the board and I was waiting for my turn to play.

Thing is, I love a match. Whether I win or lose, it's nice to play, meet folks, and talk shit. Unfortunately, yanks love to wait in line more than actually play. I find it pretty sad that in place of fun and love of the game, people would rather sit a week in the dark for a day in the sun.

America: If God killed you right now, would you rather kiss your own ass good bye while feeling the joy of victory (or the agony of defeat)? Or would you rather die in line, respectable-like, gentrified, and civilized--like cows? Yuckies.

No Free Rides, Howsoever Hip They May Be

"Want a free* iPod?"

"I swear** this is true."

"My† friend is a lawyer***************** and he says it's true." (No asterisks).

Just recently, I started a huge shitstorm, lashing out at the world at large like a monkey in a cage with a tattered bag full of feces. It all started on a sunny morning in San Francisco...

I woke up to a fresh pot of coffee and a sweet mug and a bowl with some pot. In my terrycloth robe and my Invader Zim Grrrr Slippers, I went to check my email and grab the electronic news. I was distracted momentarily when I made small talk with my neighbor, Lisa, who happened to be online as well. I didn't notice the big bundle that all but stuffed my inbox. 'Twas a forward to about a million people about a DJ I've never heard of, and a party I would be loathe to go, in a country that was as far from my mind as it was from my body.

I have been spammed by strangers. I have been spammed by spambots. I can so easily write off these fuckers and send them to the guardians of the 'net who are slightly subtler, incognito, and ruthlessly efficient than the Spanish Inquisition (Fear and Surprise, at the very least, being their priority).



But when it's people that I know who are trying to sell me Notox Footspa® or a chance to win another chance to be on the mailing list to the pre-qualifying contest, it is very hard to tell people to fuck off whilst setting a good example. So I replied to all and told them, "stop this". Doesn't the wholewideweb know by now that these mass emails and forwards are what unscrupulous marketers (hate them types marketers) use these email lists to harvest email addresses and personal information? Or is that only a fact I made up in my dredged up mind?

Oh, yeah. What triggered this rant after æons of dormancy? click on the link then:

http://www.wired.com/news/technology/0,70420-0.html?tw=rss.index

This is my latest artwoork. I was able to get hold of Inseeyah's camera (albeit sneakily, hi-hihihi-hihi!) and took this single light photo of the CLIO award, the highest honor in advertising (which could be construed to mean being the Overlord Satan in the Fiery Pits Of Hell).

This will be sent out to all locally-based agencies in San Francisco as an invite to our school's playing of the CLIO Reel at 491 Post. The evening's secret theme is Hot Damn (tchang-inang init yan!).

It might look like it was really easy to make. And it does. What isn't apparent is the work that a designer has to make so that everything looks and flows as it should.

And when text is added, you have nuance, logic, sense, and a whole lotta letters to love.

"Way, way, down inside/Honey you need ice/ Wanna give you my love/Every inch of my love...Yeah/"

Would You Like the Sense of Sight?

Sure there's tons to see
Sex and violence on national TV
With movies and ads telling me
Who I want to be
I'll skip the Last Action Hero's fight
Give up my sense of sight.

The Big Mouse City

It's easy for the City Mouse in the Big Mouse City to blend in. All he needs to do is grab a suitcase and stop gawking at the tall buildings.