Popularity of Porn

I am saddened by the fact that as it stands now, my most popular blog post is about PORN. To think I wrote the essay only to prove to myself the suggested idea of blogging about popular topics, and tagging it with popular words. I’ve never missed a day without a “view” on the subject, and these were not limited to the United States but all over the world—from Pakistan, Turkey, Australia, Indonesia, Nigeria, Austria, Spain, Ecuador, and the UK.

As if porn is already an important part of people’s lives these days; that they have to search online on how to go about it, how to do it better. I am not talking big numbers here, but the daily regularity of browsers dropping in to view the blog, is surprising (if not encouraging, if one decides to ride the popularity of the topic).

Truth is, I pity the teens who indulged in the skin business, and not because they are young and innocent, naive or coerced into it—but because they ENJOY doing it! They are proud to bare their physical assets, to be part of pornography, unmindful of later consequences.

One glaring but very influential evidence of this wide-world acceptance of open sexuality online are the Facebook duck-face pics, where the girl/boy/gay/lesbian holds her phone or ipad to take a provocative slutty pose—the more boobs and navel exposed, the hotter; the more pouted lips protruding, the more skanky and popular—advertising herself online for everyone to “like”. Can the porn industry talent scouts be far behind?

Call me a puritan, a moralistic hypocrite, but I still respect a human being, especially, a young girl. And to see these same beautiful girls blessed with good looks since childhood flaunting it online with utter disregard for decency while courting possible harm to their future and selves—basking in peer adulation and enjoying every moment of it—seems a shocking waste of life.

WHY a waste, when they are having fun? Why interfere and preach when they are “adult” enough to know what they are doing? Why be so concerned when it is as natural as drinking, smoking, getting high, and enjoying a series of sexual ecstasies? Common venereal diseases, unwanted pregnancies, drug addiction, alcoholism, prostitution, and possible criminal acts—what the fuck, who cares?

You do; you must.

Simply look at your angelic child now, the one you hold close to your heart, the ones you love and care for with all your life. Now, imagine her/him in a porn video/movie when s/he reaches her/his teen years. Corrupted, violated, abused, subjugated, and most of all, beyond your reach to save or change—with her/him, your baby, the one you cuddled each morning—laughing, sneering, mocking your so-called precautions, spitting in your face…live, in colour, in full stereo, and having fun abused and abusing his/herself online, for everyone to see.

Sigh, I am not a dad and cannot relate to having a child, but I have siblings, and I do not want any harm come to them. Do you?

Are You a Sexually Empowered Female—or a Slut?

 

An aggressive discussion once raged in another blog site dominated by female bloggers. I was there doing a discreet writing research for the tone and voice of women, especially the youth, in dialogues. The root of the topic discussed touched something I had pondered a lot before—judgemental conclusions—the human spontaneous and combustible reactions towards the superficial demeanour of someone’s character, popularly known as LABELS.

I contemplated on the implications and aspects of this very personal human flaw present in all of us, which can either praise or harm a person oblivious of the label, and found it happening often between a superior and a subordinate—or more common, to anybody who possesses a singular advantage over another or anyone else.

I am a victim myself, from childhood to professional life, suffering labels in the shameful form of name-callings, since I am not among the physically fortunate: Human malice can be painful, leaving deep scars unless one learns to ignore it, but remaining still unhealed in the process, only more tolerant of the pain.

This ugly part of human nature, an impersonal practice among societies judging people based on the character or behaviour an individual projects, were often given labels by those in authorities who think they are more educated, experienced, cultured, and rich. And therefore, uncontested and powerful, with all the exclusive rights to do the naming and the branding—as in “She is a sexually empowered female” or the lowly, embarrassing “She is a slut”—which was the main point of the heated arguments, giving merits while slighting the other.

Truth is, I do not find much difference in these words as both meant the free, uninhibited enjoyment of the benefits and satisfactions of sex, though only done in a different situation, manner, or mood:

The former oozed with their charms to indulge in sex “…she is a natural, a more sexual girl; has the strength and courage to embrace, do, and express what comes natural to her, as she sees fit and without hesitation or fear”. While the latter, seduces, “selling” their charms or what’s available to them, to indulge in sex “…may also be a natural, yet they used their sexual inclinations (i.e., empowerment) as a tool, because they lack other skills; are insecure, lacks self worth, dependent, weak.” (The italicized quoted definitions were taken from the blog that started the running discussions.)

Whew, I find it hot, hot, hot! The claims were too frank, almost violating the principles of acceptable candour and proper conduct in stating opinions in an online forum. Then again, as the empowered women felt, they have all the rights to break rules of propriety created by societies.

All right…Okay.

Does a sexually empowered woman then, “who lives her life her way”, sexually different from a slut? Is a slut who “lacks other skills” but uses her sexual inclinations to be empowered—yet lives her life also her way—wrong, to deserve another label?

Or is this negative label of being a slut seemed “degrading and dirty” only because these women lack other skills, and therefore, un-empowered? The absence of their self-worth, for one—as interpreted by the blogger, a sexually empowered woman herself.

Or were they only unfortunate not to have what these select, empowered women enjoy, like breeding, good education, and tons of money? What makes them, the sexually empowered women—recognized, empowered, and accepted as such by society—to sexually indulge in the manner and conditions they want without rebuke, disgrace, or degradation, unlike a slut?

My simple answer: Good looks, wealth, education, opportunities, lineage, conveniences, fame, luxuries, etc., etc., which the sluts, unfortunately, must earn to enjoy. Of course, the dividing lines that separated the two blur, becoming obscure when the lights were out or dimmed—the pull of sexual attractions makes everyone concerned blind to the truth of what they really are.

Time to put on our masks, ladies and gentlemen, so society will not betray our real colour, conduct, and demeanour when we get back to our air-conditioned, respectable offices and homes, lolling inside the luxurious privacy of our bedrooms. To the sluts among us—betrayed, exposed, and degraded—go crawl in your shabby, fetid holes.

Men and women who claimed to be different from the labelled sluts and manwhores—who, in some ways, are in a kind of competition with them, empowered ones, as to popularity, beauty, and strength of virility—need to take a second look at what they do in and out of bed first. For the prude and naïve among us will be surprised to find that the empowered bunch acted more like sluts and manwhores, while the real sluts and manwhores did the opposite number—trying to look empowered, entitled, and responsible for their aggressive actions.

The idea of labelling, insulting or not, segregates people. In the third world countries, common labels of low tech, conservative, inhibited, nerd, inexperienced, uneducated, etc., or the more empowering liberated, college grad, professional, cultured, scholar, etc., make everyone aware, if not only too conscious, if they are flowing in the groove of the present standards practiced by societies—moving confident, smooth, and above the total directions of sexual and social interactions surrounding them everyday.

Because, not to be in the popular cliché and circle of things, one becomes left out and no longer included in the fun and joy of things in the modern world. How many times do we hear our friends laughed when one say, for example, that she/he haven’t tried it yet, or afraid to try it, in the butt? In the same manner, guys laughed at other guys who have something against homosexual relationships, as if it is an empowering thing to follow and do—and that not to subscribe to the idea or accept the gender makes one a bore, unacceptable and embarrassing among peers?

One quite revealing observation made in the discussions was that manwhores (opposite of sluts) are not having a rough time, as tough and hardened as they were like their opposites—the sexually inclined (empowered) women who are strictly bounded or watched by a conservative society. Meaning, the horny guys can just date anybody available in a bar and get on with it, as against the women empowered to act and do the same, seeming conscious still of the erroneous label of “slut” thrown their way?

Do I read a slim, unspoken envy here? I thought empowered women can break the rules of propriety? Or was it a personal decision, a restriction held forth with valour and determination close to the heart lest be labelled a SLUT—a dirty, unbecoming word? Thus, “empowered woman” serves its labelling purpose—a glamourized version of slut?

“A woman of standards who avoids the advances of manwhores (…those who actively draw water from the well) truly deserves a man of standards, too”. Which means, the sluts are worthy only of manwhores in dingy bars and dark street corners, while empowered chicks deserve only the empowered boys in slick cars and expensive dinners before a romp in bed? What’s the f—–g difference, huh?

It is an unavoidable fact that these very same women, empowered as they claimed to be, were often giggly, thrilled to know and experience what and how it would be in bed with manwhores. Surf the social networks sites and be amazed at how these supposedly intelligent women bared their body and soul to hook a guy they like—shielded by their masks of respectability, which added more thrill, through anonymity.

Then again, it does not mean every one posted there are “women of standards”. And the irony of it is they can mix and come together— sluts and sexually empowered—in one site without anyone realizing which is which.

To go back on the heated arguments:

Guys often mistakenly label a woman of standards a slut because, often than not, when given a chance—private, intimate, or otherwise, regardless of intelligence, status, or upbringing in life—she acts like a slut. A guy may label an empowered woman a slut because she dresses and behaves like one. Just look at the MTVs and some make over and reality fashion shows, and one commits the same mistakes too.

Bottom line: If you’re a woman of standards—hot, sexy, and liberated, and therefore, empowered by your sexuality—and wants to be popular, known to everyone as “empowered”, then be prepared for the outcome because you’re acting and behaving like a slut—whatever the consequences, whatever the unwanted benefits it may entail.

Dogs come to dig in the garbage hoping to find bones; but bones from the supermarkets are more delicious and tempting and appetizing for dogs…Especially, when served in a clean, clear platter.

Classics and Past Bestsellers: How Relevant for Today’s Aspiring Writers?

“How relevant are the Classics and past Bestsellers to the present aspiring authors/writers?

Beginners/aspiring writers were often given several good and helpful pointers on writing, including the business side of it, through articles, magazine author interviews, and some profound essays on the craft.

One of them was about the “good opening sentence that must hook the reader” in every story. Yet, as I opened for the first time the first page of War and Peace, the first sentence greeted me with a drab and dull dialogue in one long paragraph that kept me wondering after plodding through those first lines, how it became a CLASSIC.

Another was the famous “show, don’t tell”. Gorky Park, a contemporary bestseller by Martin Cruz Smith, had several long rambling “tells” disguised as dialogue—quite unusual for anybody to talk that long unless it was a lecture—although the story was good and intricate in its plot twists and recreations of life in Communist Russia.

Last observation, even though I like both authors, The Talisman by Stephen King and Peter Straub, meandered and rambled along, becoming obvious that both writers were enjoying the lilt of their voices created on the written page. The rule was to “be brief and exact in telling a story”—do not bore the reader. In short, it was overwritten. And yet, this was such a popular bestseller that the two even wrote a sequel. (About the meandering thing, Peter Straub seemed to have a knack for it as shown as early as the prologue in Ghost Story, another bestseller.)

So, is it safe to say to leave the classics and bestsellers of an era and concentrate on one’s style? Or do we have to accept these popular literary examples of success as the yardstick to measure our own style and worth before developing our own?”

This was the whole question (edited here for better clarity) I posted on an online writers’ community forum in the United States where I’ve been a member for the past year. It was an honest question that came out from the situations mentioned above, where, after my daily dose of writing advice and suggestions gleaned from articles, essays, and blogs, I wondered why the so-called Classics and past Bestsellers would err on the contemporary standards of good writers’ rules.

There are ten accepted rules, as featured in an article of a popular writers’ magazine that also owned the online community. (I wrote an essay about these rules, and made a parody as if the publishers created their own, too. It is still posted in this blog page: “Publishers’ Rulebook: Wassup, Doc?”)

The popular accepted Writer/Authors’ Rules are:
1. Write What You Know.
2. Hook Your Readers on Page 1.
3. Show, Don’t Tell.
4. Write “Shitty” First Drafts.
5. Write Every Day.
6. Kill Your Darlings.
7. Develop a Thick Skin.
8. Silence Your Inner Critic.
9. Read What You Like.
10. If You Want to Get Rich, Do Something Else.

Indeed, I was thrown back by the opening line of the first paragraph of the first page of the highly revered and popular War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy. It was the start of a dialogue in one paragraph, drab and dull to even encourage me to continue reading. Thus, I dropped the book and began to question the high literary validations made on the Classics.

Did it suffer because of the translation? How much of the original were lost? Was it caused by the standard of English used at the time, which made it looked tedious and dry if compared to our present popular style of literary works? How much of the rules did it violate yet still claimed its reputation as Classic?

I have read some Classics in school, and I must admit I didn’t understand much of them: It was a requirement I must complete, and did the report without any interest. Later on, when my desire to aspire to be an author grabbed my hands and imaginations, I started to read and devour varied titles including bestsellers that interested me most: from Dracula, Moby Dick, Grapes of Wrath, The Naked and the Dead, 100 Days of Sodom, Lady Chatterley’s Lover, The Lord of the Rings, The Alchemist, to Foucault’s Pendulum and more.

Except for a handful that veered to my favourite popular genre—horror, adventure, thriller, and crime—the rest scattered my attention I had to stop for long periods—months, sometimes, and had to re-read it from the beginning again!—before going back to finish them. Without question, authors of the Classics and past Bestsellers—Mailer, Steinbeck, Updike, Fleming, Stoker, Melville, D.H. Lawrence, King, Dick, Crichton, etc.—were meritorious in their own individual ways. From story, dialogue, plots, style, to the actual telling or narration, each of these admirable authors established the excellent worth of their works.

As a beginner/aspiring author, education led me to believe that what I struggled with in school as literary masterpieces held the keys and secrets to a successful career in writing. And yet, working now in earnest to earn my reputation as an author, the faults of the past are revealing themselves slow but unavoidable and sure—something unthinkable for me, like seeing Gandalf the White was really Ian McKellan. I guess, the innocence and honesty of childhood still in me carried more creative power of imagination in my maturity.

But many seemed to have missed what I implied in my sincere inquiry, my frank dilemma in the forum as an aspiring/beginner writer with regards the Classics and past Bestsellers:

Have we placed so high an indiscriminate regard for works done in the past that we allowed ourselves to fold and lay prostrate at the brilliance of the literary achievements—losing sight of their glaring mistakes? Admittedly, there were numerous exceptional ones with almost beyond human comprehension of staggering creativity in literary accomplishments, which made them sterling masterpieces on their own.

And yet, are we to consider ourselves always “blind and respectful”, and thus, ignore and swallow with a smile the unintentional misgivings—errors or faults discerned in the writings of these outstanding writers and authors of the past—as based on our present standards that we have to shut our mouth?

Were these unarguable works of excellence, which their “era” considered masterful, and therefore, classic literatures of our present time—exemplary works that become accepted tools and examples in the craft of today’s writing (a required reading and study in fact, in colleges and most creative courses)—of paramount necessity and importance to us, the current crops of aspiring authors, aside from enjoying the ephemeral aura of having read and understood the Classics?

Are we not permitted to examine these faults as we read, and avoid it as a choice to improve and hone our craft? So that in our age, we can be proud to say that we used and understood their “mistakes” by not making them ourselves?

Are we not supposed to react, to question our surprising findings regarding its relevance to our own aspirations, and just absorb everything, with utter respect of the persons and their achievements involved?

Are we to continue ignoring these so-called “broken rules” (can anyone argue with a Tolstoy, a Stevenson, a King, a Stoker, or a Clancy, including their Editors for that matter, at the time?) and keep our peace with a bowed, quiet acceptance?

The Forum answers were mixed, but highly favoured the indispensable worth of understanding the Classics: closing a left eye to their faults, misgivings, and styles by supporting its worth in substance, content, and the power and longevity of the story themselves to survive in our contemporary times—as they set and challenged the writing standards also, during their time.

As for the Bestsellers, they earned their rights to “break rules”—their hordes of avid, adoring readers always behind every effort to support them, no matter how trivial, miniscule, or redundant the stories were—and thus, set their own standards, too, in our present time.

How relevant are the Classics and past Bestsellers for us? The answers lie in the individuals’ present needs—whether story inspiration, plot direction, dialogue style, character development, or a jarring twist in the ending that hooked and captivated readers all over the world—sifting through the jungle of accolades that distracted and clouded parts and portions of it, using our own creative heart and mind to decide what for us remains best.

Extreme Content in Writing? When, How, and Why?

In an online writers’ community, submitting stories and other written materials fall into basic categories. The buttons below the title of each story signify the evaluation of content, and through colour, guides the readers in their choices: The blue for general audiences, while black at the end, for extreme content and not for everyone. Anyone familiar with the site knew of these set standards for each story.

But when is extreme too extreme?

Is it when extreme becomes intolerable? And how is intolerable defined here? Is it according to site standards–those created and imposed by admins, mods, and reputable members? Or as dictated by government code of ethics and morals? Or, unfortunately, is it by the obedient, overprotective response of the writing community site to comply and preserve a nurtured reputation—yet limiting exploration, experimentation, and expression of new attempts, concepts, and interpretations of genres of fiction and other forms of writing?

I write to explore, to experiment, and to express my versions or evaluations of an old idea (every concept sprung from another more established ones, hence nothing is original) in whatever genre I like and belong.

Has anyone given it a thought, or at least tried to imagine, what Literature and the Fine Arts would look like if everyone in the arts community or the creative lot, settles down safe and secure, basking in the glories and achievements of the old established materials we fondly refer to as Classics—and no longer innovate?

Every artist and art school will institutionalized painting styles that favour the Renaissance Masters (and there’s nothing wrong with that!) but we will never experience or see a Picasso, a Pollack, or a Warhol or even the drastic transformations trail-blazed by computer generated visual arts.

And in Literature, every author and writer will emulate Shakespeare, Dumas, or Dickens (again, there’s nothing exceptionally wrong with that!). But we will find every other author shedding away their literary identities, their creative credentials, and forsake their rights to pursue and follow their ideas, in whatever millennium they belong, which means goodbye to Whitman, Woolf, or Steinbeck, and there will no longer be any Updike, Capote, or Vonnegut.

Every creative soul blessed with the skills and concepts to write or paint will find her/himself shackled and working within house rules (which are quite acceptable and favourable, if only for the unruly, arrogant, and boisterous community members). Yet, in any art or writing community an artist or writer belongs and finds oneself obligated and unable to expand one’s creativity to fly and soar with paints or words above the standards will inhibit her/his growth, dropping it to full mediocrity, including the development of the disciplines themselves.

In this scenario, instead of using creativity to challenge the self, we may find ourselves going back to trace and retrace meticulously every step of the Masters. We will lose our creative individualities and become another skilled parrot—exemplifying the genre standards set by house rules. Personal and selfish rules that limit an individual’s creative expression, as dictated and outlined and only deemed acceptable by the community admins, moderators, and close friends—trumpeting, unknowingly, mutual censorship.

Rules restrict creativity. Mediocrity kills the arts.

Common rules agreed and drawn upon by an art community or a creative committee may leak more poison harmful to an artist/writer/author’s artistic growth and experiences. If set standards or strict guidelines need to be amended or expanded even if already established and practiced (as in Extreme Content—where EXTREME may include those that are extraordinary and weird, and thus, reworded to EXTREME CAUTION instead)—the reading public is given their options and rights to proceed.

Maybe, it’s time to rectify and improve the definition and terms of the rule.

For in Literature, as in Art, the artist or writer demands the freedom to choose and express creativity. Or else, wallow in painful, unforgettable obscurity, hobbled by censorship disguising itself as the righteous standards of morals and dignity–for everyone.

The Fallacy of facebook “Reunion” Concept

http://www.facebook.com, as a social network site, prides itself in “connecting friends to old friends” that goes way back to Grade School to High School, or perhaps, even farther. Stories were told of how a person traced her family relatives, or got in touched with an old classmate, through the massive membership of the site.

Yet, because the site is open worldwide to any country and culture and not only for the western regions of the globe, it had not considered other consequences that the idea might promote and provoked, encouraging more alienations than reunions…for some.

Who’d ever want to see or connect with old friends from High School when you’re present status requires you to hide, not in anonymity but in a more secured and secluded state of existence like a blog with an avatar and a user name? Who’d like to communicate with relatives when they flaunt their financial affluence and luxurious lifestyle in the pages of Facebook while you toil alone to eke out a decent life?

One may not be a criminal, or pursued by legal authorities, or even recuperating from a messy divorce to enjoy a bit of relaxed isolation—living as one wants it to be—and not burdened by the baggage of old memories still eating one’s core.

To receive an email invitation for a reunion of old High School friends or former officemates and acquaintances, with Facebook referred to as source of communication and where all the good buddies can be found in their most impressive pictures of success with their widest smiles, can be disheartening…Especially, if one’s present status is slightly better than a panhandler and living mostly on hand outs, or sadly, with several attempts to end one’s life all considered and shelved for a while.

Thus, as the majority enjoy the idea presented by Facebook of connecting, socializing, and establishing old ties of friendships once again, several personal delicate factors were overlooked as they got carried away with the truth, fun and warmth of reunions. For who wouldn’t be glad to see old friends, families, lovers, and acquaintances again?

One would be more than delighted, I guess, if:
•The person eager to make the connections and who spends time and effort to make it grand and all memorable is a friend, in the truest, honest sense of the word—and not because she/he wanted only to show everyone in the old batch what she already achieved, what success she attained, and where she is, living in her glorious palace out of the country.

•The circle of old friends are not the same hypocrites—more pretentious than a salesman and more poisonous with their tongues than ever before—ready to give a pathetic slap at the back while they snigger and backbite at the same time.

•The old friends are one’s real true friends, all present with unabashed excitement and thrilled to see each other again, to tighten the friendships, to hold one’s hands in appreciation and gratitude, ready to share and sympathize for whatever predicament one is buried into at the moment…A death in the family, a business with more debts than collectibles, or a marriage scrambled with divorce.

•And last, the friends are coming at the reunion for the person that you are and whom they’ve known and cherished before, if not loved and held dear in their hearts, the sweet memories of being young together still alive and fresh in their minds.

To show one’s face in facebook.com and connect with friends from all over the globe is a grand idea, as long as the persons connecting and renewing friendships are sincere, honest, and true to their intentions…And not because it is wonderful to be seen, to be popular, and be reminded all the time of a thousand notifications of headless friends on Facebook.

I’m sorry I do not have a Facebook account. But one can find me in MySpace or Blogger or here, at WordPress, where I treasure my friends each time they come to visit and read, renewing ties far more cherished and embraced.

PUBLISHING INDUSTRY RULEBOOK? WAZZUP, DOC?

In the “Big 10 Issue” of Writer’s Digest Magazine (September 2010), the article “10 Experts Take On The Writer’s Rulebook” as compiled by Ms Jessica Strawser and Mr Zachary Petit, discussed the idea that certain practices common to established authors and were once regarded as profound advice towards creating a successful writing life, have evolved through the years to acquire the semblance of “rules” and yet—may still be broken and contradicted (“Break It”) and likewise, accepted and supported (“Follow It”)—as shown by the learned analyses of 10 bestselling authors of the present digital age.

The Writer’s Rules, with the respective authors of the pros and cons, are the following:

Rules                                                                                  “Follow It”                                         “Break It”

1. Write What You Know.                   1. Donald Maass                                 1. Natalie Goldberg

2. Hook Your Readers on Page 1.   2. Jerry B. Jenkins                            2. Steve Almond

3. Show, Don’t Tell.                              3. Natalie Goldberg                           3. Donald Maass

4. Write “Shitty” First Drafts.          4. John Smolens                                 4. Nancy Kress

5. Write Every Day.                             5. John Dufresne                                5. James Scott Bell

6. Kill Your Darlings.                          6. N.M. Kelby      (Undecided)       6. N. M. Kelby

7. Develop a Thick Skin.                   7. Steve Almond                                  7. Sheila Bender

8. Silence Your Inner Critic.           8. James Scott Bell                              8. John Smolens

9. Read What You Like.                     9. Nancy Kress                                     9. John Dufresne

10. If You Want to Get Rich,

Do Something Else.                            10. Sheila Bender                               10. Jerry B. Jenkins

Though it was not mentioned if these rules are in order of importance, it all seemed reasonable enough for an aspiring or beginner writer to follow, understand, and subscribe in one’s personal quest to write and get published.

Yet, no matter how interesting the contradicting (and supporting) points of view, no matter how knowledgeable, sincere, and provocative the professional conclusions of the experts with the pros and cons of the rules, one thing remained constant, unbreakable, and real in the unpredictable and continuous shifts in the publishing game—and where the writer’s intangible rulebook does not apply, even with the writer’s strict adherence to it.

For publishers, editors, and literary agents—reputable groups of individuals who exercise their respective office to manage, utilize, and influence the flow and direction of productions that affect the stability and growth of the industry—follow their own set of rules, a system of principles governed primarily by commercial (i.e., business) considerations, which has more definite, immediate, and dominant effect in the chain of responsibilities engaged in book development prior to publication: From acquisition, marketing, sales, advertising, publicity, promotion, printing, publishing, to actual distribution, before the book reaches the reader, and which in due time, depending on public acceptance, trickle down some benefits too—whether popularity, book deal, reputation, or money—to the author.

As industry professional often emphasized in interviews and Q&As, authors must also realize and accept the commercial aspects and responsibilities inherent in publishing while cultivating a healthy business relationship built on trust, and not focus solely their efforts in the attainment of creative satisfaction. And since publishers, editors, and literary agents know more about the financial weight and possible circumstances surrounding a manuscript even for a promising bestseller, the author can only wait and anticipate, and later agree and follow whatever evaluations in direction, alteration, or deletion are requested(especially, when there is already a sizable book advance) in the course of preparation for the book’s eventual publication.

For to do otherwise (though there are exceptions)—to rebel and react or stand firm on what the author perceived to be the merits and strength of a creative output—is to court blindly a snag in production that would drastically alter schedules and deadlines in the book’s development, and worst, earned for the author an unpopular reputation that may endanger or derail the start of a promising, professional career—even if, with his/her undeniable contributions as an indispensable cog in the publishing industry.

Because how can the industry publish anything—or even exist!—if there are no authors, writers, storytellers, and other practitioners of the craft to contribute, support, and supply it with materials? More so, with the priceless works of famous authors and writers long gone in the history of literature with their continuous reprints? Come to think of it, each one needs the other—author to agent, agent to editor, editor to publisher, publisher to bookstore, etc., and vice versa—or nothing will be achieved.

Of course, it can always be argued that a big reputable house can have all of these and continue to survive. Then again, a house “style” will emerge that will either drown the creativity or pull the business down to ignominy.

Thus, it becomes fortuitous in a sense, at this point of preparation for the book, if not quite disheartening. For in these long and arduous processes of revisions, rewrites, and refinements saddled with the pressures of demanding deadlines, an author instinctively exerts more of his/her creative powers as he/she taps and exercises—and perhaps, appreciates, too—an awareness of the writer’s rules, probably embracing the truth of the advice as it is put to the test, in particular, Rules No. 7 and No. 10, the latter, rephrased in the throes of anxiety and frustration to read: “If you want to SURVIVE,  do something EASY.”

Hence, rendering the well-intentioned and noteworthy gleanings compiled in the article as enticing glamour shots to admire and aspire for those considering a life-long professional career in writing; an encouraging array of showcases meant to resolve innocent and eager inquiries from beginners and those still contemplating whether to pursue or not a dream, and as inspiring eye-candies that colour and sweeten the various contradictions (though brewing with unspoken arguments!) to help overcome hesitation, anxiety, or disgust among those neck-deep in the craft and yet, still without success—thus, positioning conveniently everything and everyone involved in the creative processes of a book, story, poem, essay, or article in good harmonious light—since the guardians of the publishing industry already spoke, and etched their rules in stone.

Therefore, allow me in the spirit of amicable co-existence for everyone who invested more than time in the perfection of the craft; in salute to the non-patronizing camaraderie between the client-supplier relationship prevalent in the competitive atmosphere of publishing, and in celebration of the writer’s exclusive privilege to explore, experiment, and exercise “breaking the rules” with his/her creative meanderings sprinkled with the breath of expansive imaginations—

Ladies, Gentlemen, Friends, Sisters and Brothers of the Art of Writing, together with the other devout practitioners of the craft who do not view the exercise as a ritualistic job but a pursuit of life’s fulfillment—I present for your information, guidance and perusal, the probable, unbreakable, commerce-induced, systematic principles of “The PUBLISHING INDUSTRY RULEBOOK” since the advent of paper.

The rules, as always, are:

Marketing                        1. We Know What’s Right.

Sales                                   2. Hook Your Buyers on Day 1.

Advertising                     3. Display, Don’t Dawdle.

Promotion                       4. First Come, First Serve—No Shit!

Distribution                     5. Deliver Every Day.

Author Promo Tour     6. Leave Your Darlings.

Book Advance                7. Develop a Quick Poker Face.

Networking/PR              8. Shout Your Inner Creds, Duh!

Contract Signing            9. Read Your Rights If You Like.

Income Statement      10. If You Want to Get Rich, Do What We Did.

DEDICATION:

For Ms Natalie Goldberg, brilliant advocate for breaking Writer’s Rule No. 1…“This is why we have imaginations.”

APOLOGY:

I found the back issue of Writer’s Digest Magazine (September 2010) a week ago in a used-books store’s bargain bin, and for someone hungry and thirsty for creative nourishment, it still tasted fresh, satisfying, and refreshing, cover to cover. My apologies then for absorbing and using content past the expiry date, hence this ramblings.

CHRISTIAN HORROR: HIDING FEAR IN THE SUBTEXT?

I am a bit surprise, if not amuse, that Mainstream Horror fans and the genre’s professional creative community are excited about the emergence of a sub-genre called “Christian Horror, or faith-based horror…in films, books, online ’zines, chat forums, and merchandise…” as pointed out sometime ago by an article in Rue Morgue, a magazine devouted to “horror culture and entertainment.” (Divinity in Darkness: The Rise of Christian Horror, March 2009 issue).

Christian Horror, as it is labelled and defined, is “safer” and more acceptable than Mainstream Horror because it has no profanities, violence, and sex, explicit or otherwise, and is based or contains the infinite philosophical and psychological tug of war between good and evil. And if the creator of the horror vehicle, whether on film, book, music, art, etc., is a Christian who shares the values and norms of the Faith, thus, more knowledgeable with its limitations and constraints, the created material, therefore, is deemed suitable and harmless for Christians.

Mainstream Horror, on the other hand, as an extreme form of escapist entertainment, has no restrictions but to shock, surprise, and submerge the viewer or reader into a world or situation of pure terror—the feeling, akin to a first roller-coaster ride for someone afraid of heights. In its truest sense and form, the material is not considered a “horror” if it cannot illicit the emotions of fear, disgust, terror, and shock, in whatever way or means it chose to deliver the idea, natural or supernatural alike. The ending of Se7en and Panic Room, both films by David Fincher, gave the films strong credentials as horror/thriller in the genre.

Yet, to dig deeper into the common, accepted view of what is Mainstream Horror (i.e., extreme violence, sex, and gore, real or supernatural in nature, for a regulated audience due to its morbid, brutal, and explicit content, e.g., The Texas Chainsaw Massacre or A Nightmare on Elm Street), and what is Christian Horror (horror in safe mode, i.e., regulated violence, sex, and gore, real or supernatural, with redeeming values that followed guidelines defined by the Catholic Church so as not to scandalize, seduce, or expose a Christian into occasions of sins (!) i.e., impurity, lust, blasphemy, anger, envy, sacrilege, etc. For example: The Ten Commandments or Jesus of Nazareth…Don’t laugh. I am serious. These two films, though categorized as “religious films”, are filled with terrifying scenes of brutality, gruesome deaths, and morbid torture, stories ordinarily found in the Catholic Bible.)—it is without doubt worth looking into in detail—especially, with its “multi-billion dollar retail market” for Christians all over the world.

It is no secret that Christianity’s belief (the Catholic Faith) is hinged on fear—or was rewritten and edited by the earliest propagators and prime movers of the Faith to emphasize fear—so as to keep the flock devout and in-line; an old practice that made the faithful staunch believers of the Faith, and had been put to use by the Church—unfortunately—ever since they started to spread the word of God. (Just consider the number of martyred Saints—St. John, the Baptist, beheaded; St. Peter, the Apostle, crucified upside down; St, Joan of Arc, burned alive at the stake, to name a few—and you’ll get the idea how grim, horror is, in the Catholic Faith.)

Thus, to say that the Catholic (or Christian) interest in the horror genre is gaining acceptance now through Christian Horror—to some extent, creating a certain kind of excitement and phenomenal awareness—is not quite true since from the very beginning of its history (as correctly pointed out also by the article in Rue Morgue) the foundation of the Catholic Faith was immersed in fear…A horrifying sense of pain, suffering, loss, punishment, and eternal damnation unless one repents, and which were vividly established and personified in graphic, bloody depiction by the crucified Jesus from the moment of His realization that He will be sacrificed to suffer humiliation, torture, and death on the cross…Or to package and brand it with its divine label of significance created by the Church, The Sorrowful Mysteries of the Holy Rosary.

Consider the following Horrors of Christianity for the faithful to meditate on, while in prayer (!) and in every commemoration of the Lenten season:

·     First Sorrowful Mystery: The Agony in the Garden

In which Jesus, asked for deliverance from God the Father, when He was told He would be a human sacrifice and shown what pains He will have to suffer and bear soon on the cross. Jesus sweated blood.

(For an ordinary human, I believe that Jesus even had nosebleed and severe headache caused by a rise in blood pressure; was nauseous and feverish, and may have vomited, eyes in tears in fear, terrified and alarmed at the realization of the torture, pains, and sufferings that awaited Him.)

·     Second Sorrowful Mystery: The Scourging at the Pillar

In which Jesus, after being betrayed and captured and brought to Pontius Pilate to renounce Himself as a God, was punished, humiliated, and lashed in front of the people.

(To be whipped repeatedly with the Roman scourge, any human may have screamed in pain, delirious with agony as the flesh was ripped and torn and opened again and again; His tears, saliva, and sweat mingling with His blood, urine, and perhaps, some faeces—as any human would, defecating involuntarily and emptying His bladder due to the severity of the pain.)

·     Third Sorrowful Mystery: The Crowning With Thorns

In which Jesus, bleeding, humiliated, and a broken man, was crowned with a twisted loop of vine full of thorns, and yanked on His head to complete His claim and image of being a King.

(The Roman torture included humiliation in the face of the people who called Jesus a God, as He claimed of His Kingdom not of this world, and to complete the scenario, already bleeding, dirty, and disfigured, a loop of thorny vines twisted to serve as His crown was wrenched hard and deep on His head, tearing sensitive flesh. There is probability that one of His eyes—or both—had been pierced with thorns.)

·     Fourth Sorrowful Mystery: The Carrying of the Cross

In which Jesus, was forced to walk all the way to Mount Calvary where He will be crucified—while carrying the heavy beam of His own cross: There were several instances that He fell on the ground and was whipped like a beast of burden to continue the march to His death.

(Here, a human with any remaining strength left would have collapsed and passed out, and the possibility of the “fall” is not remote, if not brutal and more often, than were counted and told. Keep in mind that He was dragging on His injured shoulders and bleeding shredded back a beam of heavy, rough wood on which He will be nailed soon. I think just the thought of it alone would have made any human crumble to his feet and collapsed, or would have crawled and begged as He was lashed, pushed, and shoved to move on—or poked and prodded with a spear to wake Him up when He passed out to continue walking towards His death.)

·     Fifth Sorrowful Mystery: The Crucifixion and Death on the Cross

In which Jesus was nailed to the cross with His hands and feet; was raised crucified to heighten the agony as He dangled in midair several feet above ground. And to hasten death, was stabbed by a lance through the heart.

(The Roman version of crucifixion was nailing a person with the same cross beam that he carried to the place where he will die. Both hands and feet were nailed rigid and deep on the wood to prevent him from falling, as the cross was raised to stand on vertical position. Imagine the agony and pain if there were any senses left, if the consciousness is still functioning and awareness is nonetheless keen and sensitive—that after the hands were nailed, the feet followed—any human being would already be dying in severe agony, out of breath, out of his mind, and perhaps, only remained alive by the sheer will to survive.

Now, as the cross becomes upright, the weight of the body pulls the hands downwards and puts all the pressures on the overlapping feet, held only by a nail. The body sags and leans forward near the hips, were the drag and pull on both hands become unbearable and excruciating, especially, when the point of balance is placed on the feet where there is no foothold.

Stephen King, narrating an instance in his book “On Writing” when he was hired to do a job for a certain trailer home while he was writing Carrie, found “…dominating the living room was a nearly life-sized crucified Jesus…” describing the statue, “…The pain had driven him out of his mind.” For someone who grew up in a Methodist environment, it was an honest, uncoloured observation.)

What better way then, for the Catholic Faith to convince the flock that they are all sinners and must repent, than to show them the horror of how their beloved God was tortured, suffered, and died for their own salvation?

Mel Gibson’s The Passion of Christ said it all in vivid, eloquent terms, so much so, that the reactions of Catholics (and Christians) all over the planet was of disgust, revulsion, and denouncement of the film. That it was too morbid, gruesome, horrifying, abominable, scandalous, etc., etc., and not—sorry to say—because they realized the fact that the same horror in the film they loathed and were indignant about is always celebrated and immortalized each time they attend Holy Mass, pray the Rosary, and observe the Lenten Season every year.

Isn’t horror built on fear? And isn’t fear sown by religion, most specifically, the Catholic Faith? Is it not, that most prayers encourage the faithful to believe that he or she is a sinner, and therefore must suffer in Hell unless he or she follows the right way, the right path, and subscribe to the only true religion? “…I dread the lost of Heaven and the pains of Hell…” “…Forgive us our sins…” “…Save us from the fires of Hell…” “…Pray for us sinners…”

Think of the following and guess who originated and popularized them in the consciousness of man to become not as urban legends, myths, or cultural fantasies but sad, psychological, and emotional parts of a person’s individual everyday realities:

·     The Devil, Lucifer or Satan, the Morning Star

·     Hell and Purgatory

·     The Original Sin, Mortal Sin, and Venial Sin

·     Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse

·     Death, the Grim Reaper

·     The End of the World

·     The Deluge

·     The Ten Plagues

·     The Destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah

·     The Last Judgement

Just a few of the more devastating and gruesome instances, creations, and situations found in the Bible of the Catholic Faith and taught early on to a child as soon as he or she can read or do the math. Isn’t that cute? Ask any five-year old if he or she believes in the devil and the child will nod.

The growing impression that Christians have already allowed themselves to accept, tolerate, enjoy, and participate in a way, in the mainstream consciousness of horror as entertainment by creating concepts less horrifying, and that which observed and followed certain Christian guidelines, principles, and parameters concerning faith, values, and redemption, and which becomes more acceptable if the director, writer, musician, author, producer, artist, etc., is a Christian—thus, making it a valid, full-pledged “safe” vehicle for entertainment—is actually preposterous.

The Catholic Church is aware and conscious of stories or situations, of news or happenings in the world that involve struggles of man for salvation and redemption; thus, cognizant too, of any form of entertainment (i.e., films, books, art, music, plays, TV serials or features, comics, or video games) in Horror genre or otherwise, that touches on the battle of good and evil, whether psychological, physical, emotional, or spiritual in nature.

Here are some examples of mainstream horror films with religion in the mix. Christian Horror, are they?

·     Constantine (portrayed Hell, Satan himself, a powerless archangel, demons, Catholic rituals)

·     The Exorcist (devil possession, the healing, redemptive power of Catholic rites, and the sanctity of priesthood and its priests)

·     Dracula (the protective, redemptive power of Catholic crucifix, the sacred host, rites and rituals)

·     Devil’s Advocate (the reality of Satan, his seduction, temptation, and the need for redemption)

·     The End of Days (Satan, his reality, yet impotent against the Church)

·     Rosemary’s Baby (Satanism, reality of the devil, danger of the birth of his progeny)

Isn’t every conflict, debate, discussion, uproar, protest, disagreement, or outcry between good and evil always a free advertisement? Did it not instill and strengthen the reality of what the Catholic Faith preaches about the existence of evil? For as long as there is fear, the necessity to survive the horror, and the prime need to call on a higher being for salvation—the Church remains alive, healthy, and rich.

And the best way to do that is for everyone to rely and believe in the Catholic Faith. For in the consciousness and norms of the Church, the only good is the Catholic Faith, and therefore, it is the only salvation we can all hope for. Because everything else outside of it—including the breakaway Christian Fundamentalist and Born Again Christians that relies heavily in strict Bible studies and interpretations—are sadly wrong, bad, and will not be saved. Amen.

In the movie Fright Night, the vampire, Chris Sarandon, was correct when he thwarted Roddy McDowell’s crucifix by crushing it in his hand without any life-dissolving threat to him. “You’ve got to have faith!” the vampire said. Unfortunately, McDowell’s character doesn’t have a “Catholic” faith.

This is not a special mention, an exclusive declaration and exemplary isolation of a one-sided choice—the Catholic Faith—simply because I am a Catholic. The Catholic Faith or Christianity is not the same as “Christians” in the truest sense of the word. “Christians”, as a term, is meant to include Protestants—offshoots that followed the footsteps of Christianity, with several other non-Catholic religions that were founded and based on some of the basic teachings of the Catholic Faith, yet without most of its rituals.

For example, they accept that Jesus is the Son of God, but do not subscribe in celebrating His mystery as the Redeemer in the Holy Communion, or believe and institute the Sacraments, or celebrate the Holy Mass. Thus, it does not make these other religions “valid” in the eyes of God, as based on the teachings of the Catholic religion, because there is only one Church founded by Jesus Christ, and that is, The Holy Roman Catholic Church in the Vatican. So much so, that Catholics prefer to be identified as “Catholics” instead of Christians—although it benefits the Catholic Faith, either way. (More like the Americans and the African-Americans: same nationality, same country, but different color—yet, when the harvest of gold medal comes, they are all true-blue Americans.)

It may seem a strong, powerful capitalist monopoly, but religion is a business: a very lucrative business founded on fear. And what better way to instill fear for its faithful followers than in the creation of horror materials or fear-mongering vehicles which include concepts, visuals, stories, philosophies, ideas, points of view, news, art, predictions, etc., etc., where the Catholic Church-Faith-Religion triumphs in the end.

Take a look at these films not even classified as Horror but touches on the Catholic Faith:

·     The DaVinci Code (shone a bright light on Mary Magdalene to question the divinity of Jesus)

·     Angels and Demons (highlighted the Catholic Church in all its glorifying wealth and treasures)

·     The Green Mile (testifies on the healing power of faith as taught by the Catholic Church)

·     The Godfather (trilogy) (the redeeming salvation offered by the Catholic Faith no matter who you are or what you did)

·     The Miracle (man’s reliance on his Faith, through the Catholic Church)

·     Raiders of the Lost Ark (touched the existence of the Ark of the Covenant as told in the O.T.)

·     Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (The Last Supper’s chalice protected by a Knight Templar)

The calculated Church’s reaction to Dan Brown’s The DaVinci Code is a good example of adding kindling to the fire that warms your house. Didn’t it inspired tourism to visit the Catholic churches in Rome, an art interest that renewed focus again on classical religious subjects and themes, and more profitable of all, didn’t it brought forth in the forefront of world news the divinity of Christ, the centerpiece of the Catholic Faith, if not the Catholic Church itself?

The Exorcist created an interesting popular horror vehicle that highlighted the power of the Catholic good. It intensified and magnified the importance of priesthood—that one has to be blessed, even as a priest, if one wants to be saved—and brought to the whole unbelieving world the idea that the Catholic Faith (religion) is the only one who can do battle with the devil. Didn’t Regan’s mother (Ellen Burstyn) admitted she is not a Catholic? Didn’t Father Karras professed his dwindling belief and loss of Faith?

For most of the Catholics who viewed the movie, what they thought they saw was an exemplary triumph of good over evil, of the Catholic belief overpowering the devil…Unfortunately, it’s the other way around. Max Von Sydow, as Father Merrin, the Exorcist, was not able to drive out the devil as his heart failed him (point for the devil), and Father Karras, weak of faith and possessed by the demon, thought of killing it by jumping out of the window with it already in him (point too, for the devil. That’s suicide, no matter how it is interpreted). By doing so, Father Karras committed an abominable sin, which the demon wanted (point three, on a roll now!) as it remained alive and well after Karras’s “heroic” death. (And the winner is—!!)

To elaborate and maintain the soft acceptance or passive indulgence of “Christians” in the horror genre through Christian Horror, is to actually disguise and shroud the Church’s extensive use of fear while forcing back the issue and focus on the unacceptability and shocking influences of Mainstream Horror—horror as extreme, and which the Church rejects—but which they indulged in, for the maintenance of the flocks’ continued support and lasting devotion.

And since the professional Christian creative and entertainment community have created and produced safe kind of horror as a subgenre, the Church can avoid the guilt and the blame of scandalous fear it had utilized from the very start of its domination regarding human spiritual salvation…Two bets with one silver coin, and still winning, isn’t it?

My disagreement with the label “Christian Horror” stems from the idea that the horror it purports is deemed acceptable, or supposed to be more tolerable, in a sense, if it followed the Church’s set of guidelines. I find it ironic that the Catholic Faith which based its dogma, rites, and rituals on extreme horror to regulate the faithful has created parameters to soften and masked the same unforgiving brutality and violence of horror they so vividly portrayed in the Bible, and more profoundly, in the crucifixion of Jesus.

And with the creative community adapting it with candour, creating a so-called turning point in the genre—when in truth, it is nothing but a calculated advertisement in which the Church rides the bandwagon of mainstream horror popularity so as to put the spotlights on their importance to everyone’s lives again—each one involved in the horrific party were led to believe, sadly, through the naïve innocence of their hearts and minds.

It is, I think, a hypocritical and deceptive title, inadvertently coined by the sensitive Christian community (and the faithful Catholics, with the Church’s blessings bestowed on it) that is meant only to lighten the Church’s position on what had already been fed to the faithful a long, long time ago: That pure horror—psychological, physical, emotional, or spiritual in context—points and delineates, without ever revealing the real intentions of regulating and suppressing it (Why, my child, what is forbidden becomes more sweet…), to the necessity and importance of the Catholic Church with all their teachings of salvation and rituals of purification as vital to the redemption of each person’s individual lives; that each of us are sinners, and cannot live without the guidance and protection of the Church, or else, suffer the damnation of everlasting torments in Hell.

And that makes every Buddhist, Muslim, Protestant, Fundamentalist, Mormons, Evangelist, Hindu, Lutheran, Orthodox, Freemason, Jew, Methodist, Born Again Christian or whatever religion a person’s faith rested on, a sure-fire candidate to everlasting damnation in Hell because they are not Catholics. (No one can enter the kingdom of Heaven unless baptized by the Holy Spirit…)

Yes, it seems unfortunate for all the rest of the other religions and denominations and cults and beliefs that also have their own brands of salvation like the Japanese, Chinese, Eskimo, Aborigine, Inuit, to name just a few. Does it mean each of these nationalities and others like them are condemned because they are not Catholics?

That, in reality, is Christianity’s Horror, indeed.

The Pain of Guilt

Perhaps, the most devastating emotion any human being is bound to suffer is the pain of guilt over love and not guilt over death, although most of the time, the two are inseparable and are somehow connected: we die literally inside whenever we lost a wonderful relationship–even friendship!–more so, if we have nurtured and tried to preserve it for so long.

Guilt over death only comes if we have committed a crime, if have caused it to happen or allowed it and intended it; yet, if the cause of death was accidental or unintentional or beyond our capacity to prevent, then the guilt becomes more intolerable and painful, haunting us for the rest of our lives sometimes, unable to erase the sad memory clinging and overwhelming our soul…especially, if it’s someone we love. (You are free to insert here your own horrible thoughts of losing a love one through your own hands.)

Thus, I wonder why so many of us play with love, taking things for granted as easily as we have enjoyed it, with an absence of remorse or fear for hurting those we have loved so much and cared for–yet, later on, would feel the eroding presence of guilt destroying us from within. For some, it becomes a ritual of their lives, uncaring who they hurt or leave behind to suffer in the end, middle, or start of every unfortunate affair, that in the mere thought of saying it–I love you–they can easily take refuge in their set of standard lies; calloused and unmindful of how the other party will live and try to survive.

Is guilt a fail safe mechanism then of a human being to retain his or her sanity over a loss, committed or otherwise? Guilt, it seems, guides us on our way back to our very own humanity; and to understand the severity of what we have done, we must suffer and bear the consequence/s no matter what, through it, step by step, until we understand the pain of what we did.

We cannot hide from it; of course, we can always try to forget. Yet, who among us can say we have forgotten–truly, honestly, sincerely erase our faults, our misdeeds, our errors from the past and present from our memory–and thus, arise a new person bubbling with renewed life and energy, free from any remorse or guilt?

Then again, we can always wear a mask, the same old thing we carry and use for all occasions, for any season, at any moment, for any time…as if, we are not the least, guilty at all.

Why, I love you…

I don’t think I should be writing about this…I am not a psychologist or a guidance counselor. Nor am I a fortune teller or a shaman who can consult the future and give inspirational advice.

But the urge to continue and expound on the topic is strong enough that I have to take the risks. Because all I am is an ordinary human being who has experienced one way or the other the frivolities of love in several intoxicating instances, and not always with a happy ending.

Yet each one left me breathless, richer, and with a contented heart, ready and willing once again to relive the experience, one more time.

For some of us, we encounter the majesty and mystery of love at our earliest point of self-awareness. A conscious, physical awakening of ourselves where we become critical whether we are attractive or not. If we so possesses what we believe are the standards of beauty or manliness that we felt are prerequisites to love; and with all these exclusive realizations not necessarily meant to happen only at the age of puberty.

I remember I was only five years old when I had my first crush, which remained vivid and clear for me to include the colorful episode in a romance novel which I am trying to complete.

At some point, the most intense, the most memorable—they say, the most unforgettable and craziest, yet almost always the most naïve—is the first love that comes knocking at our hearts before or during our earliest teens. And I agree.

Let’s listen for a while in a one-way conversation. Let’s try to guess what might have been said by the other party on the line, and who knows, you might have reacted in the same way too, when you were young and deep in love…

“Yeah, babe, I care… You know that… Of course… I do, babe…

“What?! Why do I— But why? Do I have to—

“You don’t believe me, is that it? I said I–care–for–you…

“Do I really have to say it so you’ll believe me?

“I don’t understand… Do we have a prob—

“C’mon! What do you mean there’s a diff— Oh, boy…

“Look, babe— I don’t know! Really, I don’t!!

“Okay…What I want to tell you right now, right this minute, is I really, really want you. I mean—I care for you! I want you; I want you to be with me always…I need you, babe…I want to be with you all my life, I want to spend my life with you…I want to kiss you, embrace you, care for you, make love to you…I want to see you like right now, babe…I want to talk to you, hear your voice, your laughter, listen to your voice…Look at you when you giggle, when you pout…

“Yes, you pout… You do, babe… Alright, when you smile…Every little thing, okay? And that’s really, really, really because—

“Yep… I care. I care that much… And you know that, babe…

“Uh, almost two… Right…one year, eight months… And two weeks, yeah…

“Umm, 02? Huh? Oh, December… sixteenth… Yep, before my birth–

“We, ah… Yellow… With a low cut neckline—Jeez, you’re sooh sexy!

“Yeaah!! I was so turned-on! I felt horn—

“Oops! Is she there? With you? What’s she doing there?

“Sorry… I thought you’re alone…

“So…How’s school?

“No…no! I’m not bored… It’s just—

“Wow, I’m not changing the subject… C’mon, I’ve not seen you since finding Nemo—

“Gotcha!! Ha-ha! Got my baby to smile—yeah! Oh, yeaah!!

“I know… I know… I miss you, babe… Just thought you might want to talk—

“Right… Yeah, if you don’t wanna talk about it…okay…

(Silence…a sigh.)

“Hey…you tired? Am I keeping you up? You want me to—

“Okay… Sorry…

“Can’t you go to your room? Why do you have to keep her company, anyway? She’s watching TV…

“That bad, huh? Well…I went out with Bri…we played some, yeah… He’s got this new Xbox, real cool… Yep, expensive… No, I have my PC… No, babe…I don’t want an Xbox… No!

“I’m not shouting! C’mon!!

“Okay… Cool… What are you drinking?

“Ain’t that a bit sweet? No!! I’m not trying to say you’ll— I mean, hey!

“I’m not complaining, baby… Oh, jeez— I’m not implying!! Aw, for chrissake—

(Phone slammed hard…dial tone.)

(Thirty seconds flat, a ring tone.)

“Yeah… Hi… Hellooo?

“I did not exactly— No, no… Okay, I said it’s a bit sweet, that’s all… But I didn’t mean it’s bad for you, or you’re gonna gain— Yeah, I know… Sure… No, you’re not…

“Yep, tried it once… Very sweet, really… You threw it away? Well…

“Hey, there’s a concert in school…We have these new bands—

“What? Your Mom doesn’t like hip hop? Baby, it’s you I’m talking here—

“Okay, sorry… I forgot… Yeah, we don’t like hip hop… Okay, yeah…

“Uh, emo, senti… Mellow, a bit of jazz… Alicia, yes…

“Oh, it’s…almost…almost two… Ah, one…forty-three… What?

“I’m in bed, baby… Lying down… Yeah, what else…

“No—no!! I mean, I just wanna talk to you while lying in bed…

“Okay, so I’m horny… Oh, yeah! All the time!! That’s all I think of, yeah! I like having sex all the time!! Yeah, right…

“With you, babe… With you, of course! Yep, no one else… Always, baby…

“Okay, you’re sleepy… Yeah, talk to you tomorrow… A little late, I guess…

“I got some papers to write… Right on, my favorite Eco—

“No, it’s okay… I just have to—

“Yeah, alright… Same time… Yeah, I promise… I’ll call, baby…

“I miss you, too… Yep… As always… Take care, okay?

“Yeah… Bye, love… Good night…

(Forty five seconds, a ring tone.)

“Yeah? Oh, hi babe! What?! I didn’t say what?

“Baby, c’mon— I did not forget–you know that! You know I love you…

And the cycle continues in the struggle to say I love you, everyday, every time there is a chance for two people having a relationship, or just beginning to fall in love, to express themselves and say how much they love and care for each other.

Or did they, really? What secrets hide behind those words that it becomes difficult for some to say yet so easy for others to blurt out, repeat, and utter away without any occasion or special time? Is that really love?

Others hang on to its magic like a precious, magnificent incantation they all needed to hear, always repeated and spoken, whispered in their ears. Or even signed with the lips, less they vanish into thin air, lost in the romantic vanities of their fantasy and dreams.

Why did it become so important for these three words to be uttered—becoming a matter of life and death sometimes, especially, for young, desperate lovers drowned in the need and desire to hear it.

When in fact, not saying it, but instead expressed and done wholeheartedly meant more—a true and sincere honest manifestation of love? What makes it more romantic when spoken, the words tumbling out from our lips almost in rote, mechanical rhythm each time we talk, listen, or see our object of love and desire?

Doesn’t I love you say more when expressed, acted out, or performed—like opening an umbrella to shade her from a slight drizzle, or wiping an errant drop of ice cream on her hand with a tissue or hanky you bought especially for moments like this?

What makes love true? How do you know it’s real?

I think each of us who experienced love and went through the initial, gangling awkward steps already learned how to cope, to become patient and understanding, as we mature. Our choices, our demands, our feelings for our partners becoming rational, unselfish; as against the earlier episodes of being impulsive, explosive, and too sensitive (as I tried to illustrate in the conversation above).

Yet, these raw feelings and attitudes were affected and influenced by several things while growing up, which become formative tools that shaped and molded our individual concepts of love and relationship. One way or the other, it can make us selfish, possessive, envious, indulgent, dominating, or jealous, turning us into gibbering morons without pride or self-respect as we follow our lover’s every step, every whim, every unspoken wish and command.

So that later on, after we overcome the insanity of these almost humiliating episodes, we throw salt at the back of our hand, swig the glass and swallow our hurt, laughing off our broken pride, wondering unbelieving to our inner self why we ever allowed to happen what our faithful friends would later call our stupid, drunken love affair.

Still, most of us crept back, succumbed once more without throwing caution learned from our past mistakes, immersing and enjoying the promises, blind and uncaring as we dream of happiness—our personal victory, our most private triumph, as we seek true love once more to taste the beauty and ardor of romance.

I believe that one of the most dominant influences that shaped and affected our views of love and relationships are romance stories and novels, supported and empowered in all its glittering splendor and ecstasy by TV serials and the movies. Especially aimed for women readers, romance stories and novels became one unconscious basis of sort, a visual and dreamlike point of reference for successful standards of love and relationships, where the romantic fulfillment is enjoyed through fantasy and less of reality; where the knight-in-shining-armor-rescues-the-damsel-in-distress cliché themes dominate and lead the stories into veritable, happy, fairy tale endings.

Most publishers agree on one thing about romance novels: For the books to be successful, i.e., commercially popular and profitable, it must always have a happy ending—the lovers reunited after a long, arduous separation; the lovers getting married at last, after suffering family persecutions; the lovers met again (accidentally!) after untold circumstances and great distance parted their lives; and the lovers seeing the sad realities of their miserable existence to happily reconcile, again, etc., etc.

For the young romantics among us entertained by these ideas as we grow up, we held on tight to the concepts, unable to separate much of fiction from reality because of inexperience, preparing ourselves instead for the actual, active, individual relationships we hope to encounter in our love life later on with roses in our eyes.

Yet, romance classics like Romeo and Juliet, Wuthering Heights, or The Scarlet Letter have incorporated plot twists into the romance, so that endings are more believable, if not tragic and almost real.

Thus, quite unacceptable and “unreal” to the die-hard fans. Still, most outstanding novels not even under the label of Romance contain their own unique love stories in the purest sense of the word, remaining subtle and unbidden beneath the subtext instead of being hyped, highlighted, or shouted out loud in the title. It becomes more true-to-life and horrifyingly real: The Hunchback of Notre Dame by Victor Hugo revealed the painful unrequited love of Quasimodo, the hunchback, to the gypsy dancer, Esmeralda; Dracula by Bram Stoker, pounds the fear and dilemma of Jonathan Harker to save his wife, Mina, from the untold terror threatening London; and the modern, science fiction novel Perdido Street Station by China Mieville, led the scientist Isaac to dare the unbelievable and the challenges of a Boschnian-steampunk city, so he can only be reunited with his alien sweetheart, Lin.

Good or bad are these examples, contrive or superfluous as they may seem, the love angle in these stories never rely solely in the magic of I love you. Yet, fiercely expounded in the uniqueness of the desire, the overwhelming feeling, the rapturous and agonizing need to hope, to be united at last with the ones they loved and cared for, no matter what awaits them in return.

Maybe for some of us, to hear I love you is to conjure a healthy, lovely picture of our present relationship, our noble hopes for it in the years to come. And to demand it said, to hear it spoken sweetly by our lover becomes a kind of assurance, a guarantee, that indeed, we are made for one another, till death do us part, amen. Unfortunately, I don’t think—yet what I think is not important—it works that way: love is felt, and not heard or uttered.

It becomes more meaningful when you see the twinkle in your lover’s eyes when he or she sees you coming unannounced. When her lips quiver in surprise or delight as you planted a stolen kiss she or he never suspects. Or a warm hug, a sincere embrace of appreciation or greeting when you say Hi!; your unconscious holding of hands in the most unromantic of places—the office cafeteria, the long line of customers in the bank, or just waiting in the traffic for a cab.

A light pat on the shoulder, a glance that follows you around, a tap on the arm, a wink, a giggle, or a flick of a finger to remove loose strands of hair on her face meant more for me, than a repeated I love you. It is more of the casual, unromantic actions; the sweet, surprise reactions; those reciprocating and unintentional body language between the two of you that you alone can interpret as I love you that makes a relationship endures and becomes more meaningful and real.

Reserved it then, if ever you want to say it without reason, or only as an unspoken obligation; if ever you feel the urge to let your partner know because you only felt insecure, jealous, or threatened of something in your relationship.

Reserved it for a particular moment, a rare occasion or instance, or any unguarded intimacy that cannot be repeated or will be experienced again, even if, you are already living together or happily married for sometime, and watch the wonders of love spark and flare in your hearts.

Personal Windows Blues

How many times did you find yourself staring at the blue bland screen of your desktop while doing a reformat or a disc check? How many hours have you wasted staring blank at it (cursing, more probably) because it was the nth time already ever since you have a personal computer assembled (yup, “assembled”, because it was cheaper that way, the best friend of your friend said) and installed with the Windows XP? I should know because I am the owner of the worst PC—ever!

Let me start my sad story by saying I am an ignorant pig when it comes to computer. I arrived on the scene quite late, conceding the artistic excellence and skills advantages of my small advertising and design studio to the more efficient, exacting, reliable, and fast designs and creative outputs done with a computer with its outstanding professional, printed look. (My clients slowly disappeared or trickled out one by one as I cannot provide for them the demand of computerized art or design materials, when the truth is, what they know is also limited, as they themselves grappled with the tutorials of Excel and Power Point at the time).

It was in the early 90s when it happened, when very few advertising companies and graphic design studios owned a computer. (Later, I found out it was only the start, the launching years of the personal computer where MAC has already dominated and captured the mindset of artists and graphic designers worldwide because of its superior capabilities and technological edge), and in a third world country like mine, owning one or several (a PC or a MAC) requires big budget.

Add to it the fact that very few knew how to use a computer, as Fine Arts schools and multimedia institutions woke up to the consciousness of teaching computer subjects a bit too late. It was already 1995 when the university where I was teaching part-time included the subject in the curriculum for the Advertising Design Course, while the computer rooms were shared with other Courses, leaving the art students hungry for computer time.

What is worse, the faculty members who taught the subjects, especially for the Fine Arts (Corel Draw, Adobe Illustrator, Photoshop, etc.), are not experienced or experts in their fields, or with the software programs, itself. (Where else can you find a computer class with a written take-home assignment, because only the professor was using a unit while the students stared agog, puzzled and in wonderment as to how to do it at home, when they do not have a computer or can even afford one?).

What is actually surprising if not embarrassing, is that computer subjects were already added earlier in the 1990’s in the primary and secondary levels of some private schools. So that a Grade One student may talk of “control-alt-delete” with ease, and a Grade Seven boasting of “surfing the net” as they became later the next generation of artists enrolled in the Fine Arts schools and colleges with more computer background than their professors!

Funny, but that is a truth I participated in, got involved with, and which later made me realized the futility of not owning a computer soon—a PC clone, nonetheless. (A MAC is out of the question, for the price, converted into my country’s currency and exchange rate then and now, amounted to hundreds of thousands—more than enough to start a small grocery store or as down payment for a car).

And because I am a pig-headed artist, I rode the computer “fad” thinking it will fizzle out like a designer’s luxury item (remember Rotring technical pens?), and the interest dying down with it. But I was wrong—“TOY STORY” came out, and I was bewildered: could this be possible? The long held monopoly of Disney in animation was now challenged with impunity by a start-up animation company whose creation is—is this real? Maybe, the right word for me was mesmerized. I was dumbfounded, because I realized 2D animation has met its match: Pixar.

I have been a fan of CGI as used for special effects in films, but I never thought I would see the day computerized artworks (3D animations) would barged in and scatter the hell out of 2D—in a very realistic approach and creativity at that. Of course, the Japanese attempt to shock the advertising, art and design community by flaunting “The Spirits Within” animated film in local theaters left us petrified with goose bumps after the screening. Never has one seen strands of hair blown so life-like by the wind in an animation before! (Yet, Monsters Inc. toppled the standards of “softness” with Sully’s snow solo—ruffling the blue monster’s fur as the wind and snow blew—in sync!—just like in real life).

Which brings me back to blue (as in blue screen, then green screen—Ha-ha!)—or the “screen of death”, as one magazine article described it—in Microsoft Windows XP PRO. The article mentioned that if the “blue screen appeared on your desktop”, you’re dead, man. And yes, I have seen “death” not once, but several times, blue and eye to eye.

Okay, I said charged it to my inexperience; blame the fucking clone; curse it, because it was assembled with pirated parts. Then again, as years passed, I am still getting the swath of blue from time to time, forcing me to replace my power supply, add more ram, clean, and later on, change my video card, and worst, replace my motherboard. Suffice it to say, my original computer—an Intel Pentium 4, an ASUS motherboard with 4 gig of power and a 256 nVDIA graphic card, using Microsoft Windows XP PRO (as if I know what these all amount to)—suffered and stumbled, a shell empty of its previous power and pride.

I believe I have consulted and allowed more than seven technicians to diagnose and repair my precious computer, through the years. What are surprising are their findings and recommendations: power current fluctuations, broken CD/DVD rom, virus, needs more ram, a UPS, change of motherboard, periodic cleaning, etc., and not one of them—inexperienced and unschooled in computer repairs as they are (one, an IT graduate, another repairs computers in a video shop)—were wrong—except, not one either, pointed out or mentioned anything about the numerous faults and shortcomings of a Microsoft Windows system for PCs.

My PC has pirated programs and parts, did I say that? Okay, that is more than enough to shut up and sulked. Everyone knows the consequences, and must live with all of it. Yet, I have friends, students, officemates, and even relatives, who own the same kind of pirated, assembled clones and so far, were also experiencing sporadically the same sad story. Then comes a gift from above: a former student who now works in a foreign animation studio gave me a downloaded material—a kind of PC for Dummies—and I began to wonder…

The book contained several chapters in an easy, friendly, dummy-kind of way steps on how to treat your PC. As I remembered it now, it had about 12-16 sections, each with several chapters, outlining clearly and in detail the things one can do safely, and what may require a certified Microsoft technician. This may not mean anything at first reading but a second book talks about how to repair—and the possible, probable causes—of a broken (not running) PC. The two authors are both certified computer experts with enough experiences to fill a page.

Now, why would Microsoft, an enormous and as technically advanced corporation as they are, allow these books to be published? I can accept the idea of a “How-to Guidebook”—a kind of PC usage tutorial for those ignoramuses like me—but a book talking about known issues? For sure, these books were meant for users of genuine Microsoft programs for PCs, and not for those with pirated parts and programs like me. Does it mean therefore, that Microsoft knew all along that their Windows systems have faults? My honest guess is YES.

Think about this:

· Help and Support Center button (blue, of course, with a question mark icon). Consult the error log in your own sweet time because it can only tell you in tech-speak what is wrong with your PC…Nothing more, nothing less. Go online if you want to go a bit further in your futile search of finding solutions to your crashing and re-starting PC.

· Program Compatibility Wizard (also in blue, with the same question mark). Why would compatibility be a question? For sure, Microsoft Windows created it not for pirated materials and programs. But does it mean even the compatible ones are liable to errors and bugs? That they marketed hard wares and soft wares that may NOT be compatible at all with what the Window’s system installed in your PC can recognize?

· Check Disc, and Defragmentation tools. Nothing else but for error-checking, and to make your PC ran faster by unclogging the debris, just like in your kitchen sink. Why? Did no one saw the mess their creations were leaving behind as the poor users continue to punch their ways in the key boards, without any idea at all of the hanging Blue Interface that means death?

These are but three of the most common “cleaner” tools mentioned in the books. Try to explore your PC programs even once and you will find them easily installed with the system. I wonder if Microsoft should call it the Blue Book of Death. Or maybe, Big, Bad, and Blue? Ho-ho-ho!