Those words.

Now that I have fully expressed my dismay for the loss of my wallet (sigh), I am ready to be wooed.

Don’t get me wrong; it’s not like a lack romance in my life.  After all these years, Dylan has managed to surprise me and it still puzzles me how he manages to do it when there’s so much more to do.

And though he’s not really the most eloquent of writers, he knows how to blow me away.

I think he took this to heart:

A 1989 movie quote is still acceptable today.

So guys, man up.  Laziness will not do.

 

A crudely disguised gag order

Yeah, you read that right.  That’s how I see the Cyber Crime Law.

Last September 12, the President of the Republic of the Philippines signed into law Republic Act 10175 or the Cybercrime Prevention Act.  Now don’t get me wrong; the Philippines is in obvious need of this law to prevent child pornography, theft and all other what nots and shenanigans one can easily run over the vast virtual free space of the Web.  But what I didn’t really see coming — actually, I think no one saw this coming, even though a senator whined about it some unforgettable moment before — is this:  the provision for cyberlibel.

Yep, you read that right.  The nation who was brought to fame and infamy because of a peaceful, non-violent revolution led by the mother of the incumbent president has a provision for cyberlibel.  It still exists even though the UN has constantly frowned upon the existence of libel clauses in the Penal Code.  And the punishment for cyberlibel is far harsher than libel of traditional media.

Sen. Teofisto “TG” Guingona III said it best.  And here’s the gist of what he said:

 

For the entire piece, click here.

And my opinion comes right about…. now.

I like the Internet.  I like the world wide web.  Since 2004, it has given me ample space to air out my frustrations, goals and unsolicited criticisms.  It is so inviting.  It does not discriminate.  Anyone can take a piece, plop down and call it their space.  I’ve hopped from tBlog to LiveJournal to WordPress with ease and comfort.  This is my living room.

To tell me I can’t put my feet up when I’m in my own living room is just complete utter bull.

If his mother was still alive now, he should expect a disapproving tone to come from her.  This virtual space may have brought out the most scheming and alluring of criminals, but it has also brought out inquisitive and critical minds.  With anonymity, opinions are freely aired and remain as such:  just opinions.  This virtual space allows every individual to find a comfortable outlet to vent, to speak up.

There’s a reason why celebrities, government officials and other personalities eventually planted their ground on the Web:  because they reach people there.  They get to talk to them, find their fans and their critics, see the things they don’t (or not get to) see, peel their eyes to the realities that their eyes cannot seem to cover.  The people — though mostly loud, incoherent and at times offensive — give their thoughts and views on issues FOR FREE.  You don’t even have to pay a survey facility to conduct a quick census, a free online poll  latched to a frequently visited blogger can easily solve that.

So I don’t get it.  Why silence the tens of millions who have created their space?  This is their living room.  Not yours.  And just because they called your interior decor crappy and overdone doesn’t mean they don’t merit to have a living room of their own.

<vent over>

At present, editorials, activists, and lawyers continually question this law and how its supposed to be implemented.  A senator recently admitted to not having seen the provision for cyberlibel and just agreed to the law in general.  Now they’re saying they’re revising the law since the implementing rules and regulations will not sufficiently qualify the depth of the said provision.

You see, ladies and gentlemen, this is what happens when you railroad the process to favor your own intentions.  It backfires.  Splatters.  Like shit hitting the fan.  Like crimson mist.

Get it done.  Get it right.  Set it straight.  You owe the people that much.

To know more about the Cybercrime Prevention Law, read the full text here.

I miss you when it rains.

I miss you when it rains.  My youth was filled with you carrying me from the jeep to the house so I won’t have to walk in through the flood.  There are days when you’ll stop us from going down the first floor of the San Andres house because it’s flooded in, and you’ll come back up with tuyo and kamatis for breakfast.

You loved that house.  You built that house.  You built that home.  We all grew up there.  Our childhood wouldn’t have been complete without that house.

I remember you talking to my father, telling him how to handle his misfortunes.  I have never seen my father respect anyone as much as he respects you.  I honestly believe you are the only person he actually took advice from.  I also believe he wanted to be a great head of the family like you.

You never finished grade school.  Your wife barely made it to grade three.  Yet your four kids graduated college, settled with their families, here and abroad, now giving their children ten times over what you have provided.  Our parents, our aunts and uncles never stopped telling us how poverty and tough times left you unaffected.  You helped when help was needed, regardless of bloodlines, reputation and linkages.  There was nothing in your life that you never shared — from your roof, to your food, to your clothes.  You shared everything, and that was the vision that your wife carries to this day.

And my God, you loved her so much.  I have never seen a man love a woman that much.  You hated her for a while, but one word, and you were back.  You loved her so much.  For as long as I can remember — actually, from the day I started to find out what it’s like to “date” a guy — the only desire I had was to be loved the way you loved her.  And you looked at her everyday as if it’s the first time you’re seeing her.  Endless fascination.  Pure admiration.  Smitten.  Swooning.  Constantly, unending.

Our lives were completely changed with your passing.  Though we know it is part of the natural cycle, I guess not one of us ever imagined a day without you.  Your smile.  Your laughter.  The way you cry when you miss us so much.  The way you survey our boyfriends and girlfriends and give out approving nods when you like them.  Your protection.  Your touch.  Your love.

I miss you so much.  It’s been years, but I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the idea of not seeing you.  I hate the fact that when I decide to get married, you won’t be there.  I may be the only one saying it now, but I know all of us left here are thinking it:  though our lives go on everyday, it remains incomplete without you.

We buried you on a rainy day.  I think the heavens mourned with us, though I selfishly think not enough.  Each time we go to your spot, it rains.  Each time we think of visiting you, it rains.  It’s like the rain is you, and you’re all over us.  You’re around us and I can taste you and I can feel you and I feel lonely and composed at the same time.

I miss you so much.  You should see your great granddaughter.  She’s a spitting image of you.

I miss you when it rains.  And lately, it’s been raining a lot.  So yeah, I miss you a lot.  But to be honest, there was never a day I did not miss you this much.

REVIEW: The Amazing Spider-man (2012)

Admittedly, it has been a while since I last wrote, but that is no reason for me to not review the latest movie Dylan and I caught:  The Amazing Spider-man.

Dylan didn’t get to watch The Social Network, so when he asked me about the new Peter Parker, I just told him the one thing he needed to know so we would watch it right away:  Emma Stone plays Gwen Stacy.

And a date was set.

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS

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