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What makes a Chronicler
January 26th, 2008 posted by DCT under Adamson Chronicle, Uncategorized. [ Comments: 7 ]

Between the twin worlds of detachment and fondness lies ambivalence. For several years now, I savored my existence within that limbo. So many things that belonged to the past just had to take the backseat as a series of new challenges eventually flooded the present. Life just had to go on.The Adamson Chronicle is a perfumed ghost—a sniff of her and you just know she has snatched you back to her fold. It is her essence to be omnipresent despite or maybe due to her blindfold. She is the fellow writer you’ve intellectually crossed spades and hedonistically shared rounds of beer with, and the reader with whom you sign a love-hate contract for a piece of paper. Heck, she is the entire university populace—the paying student-publishers, the sometimes adversarial administrators and to some extent the guilt-stricken faculty members, and all other sorts of characters in between.

Such is Lady Chronicler’s influence that leaving the university grounds does not guarantee getting rid of her entirely. Definitely not from a campus paper editor who literally saw blood spilled on his first few weeks of college life. That blood belonged to then-AUSG president Rolando dela Cruz with whom he struck a comradeship in iron will. Later, truncheons would blow the noses of the editor’s friends who just turned out to be fighting for students’ rights. Along with them, the writer was thrown by circumstances to lead a very radically different life very much apart from his otherwise scholarly or academic undertakings.

Yet that writer-editor succeeded years ago in dumping his memory of Adamson Chronicle like some gadget that has outlived its usefulness. It just happened, like some drug addict who threw all his guts out and finally achieved clarity. I was a success in betrayal. Familial responsibilities caught up with time. I was a kuya after all to six siblings and life wasn’t getting any rosier with a father who continued to defy career suppression of Marcosian proportion and a mother who could not withstand the rigors of rural life to which my family was forced to subsist.

There were other factors that came into play but I’m not going to belabor those points at the risk of sounding like a walking apologia for the unfolding events. Suffice it to say that the scholar in me took the driver’s seat this time and rode to the information superhighway like a madman deprived of fuel for a very long time. Life offered a different route. What KM = Kabataang Makabayan was to hardened activists now meant Knowledge Management, LFS became the theatrical Last Full Show, and a host of other mastered acronyms and jargons ended up as forgotten coffee, bitter to the taste and cold to the touch.

It would be easy to conclude that I became a sellout, especially finding out that I am writing this from New York as a communications consultant. And I hasten to defend that nothing is farther than the truth. I may have changed gear but it is mainly to allow other leaders to run the show this time. Reading now how they put up a good fight when the going got tough, I can only say that it was a decision well-invested.

Allow me to link you back to another time. Other leaders came before my term, who selflessly trained upcoming editors and writers of the paper. Rino Reginio first saw my potential from the results of the editorial exam that led to my first shot at the associate editorial position, right hand to then editor-in-chief Alwyn Vicente. Rino would later call me the “hara-kiri journalist” due to my confrontational write-ups. Alwyn has reserved for me the terms “licentious” and “uncharitable”. They are both heroes and amazing mentors to me, and I’m sure they always held my best interest at heart. The chain goes further back to previous editors like Dennis Solatan and the late Donnie Montalban who guided them in return.

Like today’s editors and writers, The Adamson Chronicle and its editors then lived up to their times’ different challenges and circumstances. Unfortunately, fate rendered for the Adamsonians of my time a more disquieting onslaught of both arrogant and subtle abuses. As the voice of the students, it was no time to wax poetic. Still, we had to strike a balance between literary creations and editorial engagements.

As in all marketplaces of ideas, what proves relevant to the time rules. At that time, the Adamsonians wanted their voices heard—from how they oppose the student magna carta ill-crafted by the then-ironically repressive Office of the Dean of Student Affairs (ODSA), the malignant yearly tuition hike, to abusive faculty instructors and stinking toilets. Ad nauseum. The Adamson Chronicle listened and became the freedom wall inscribed with the students’ sentiments and frustrations.

From what seemed like successful efforts by ODSA (previously named Office of Pastoral Affairs (OPA) to quell the student population into absolute submission, the university suddenly woke up to a startling first issue that laid bare the wounds inflicted by the previous years’ efforts at suppressing student rights, thought to be finalized by the banning and dismissal of several militant students and student-government (AUSG) leaders led by Rolando dela Cruz.

ODSA has never been so wrong. Where it thought it succeeded in crippling the student government, the upcoming events will prove otherwise. The reawakening militancy of the Adamsonians apparently threatened the ODSA leadership and in duplication of its past efforts at sowing fear and confusion, tried but failed to stop the rage and the terror it bred itself in the coming days.

The Adamson Chronicle, the only institution left with enough fight in its spirit at that time, took a stand and added its voice to the growing discontent. Some would argue the paper provoked the students to take to the streets, but all that argument is nonsense. The publication exists to tell the stories of its publishers, the students. After all, we are students ourselves. If The Adamson Chronicle members cannot live up to the students’ sometimes arduous demands, these members have the option to quit. If we cannot rise to our call of duty, our actions or inaction are accountable to the Adamsonians. We will be judged, and if found wanting, must give way to other writers who can take the mantle.

To sin by silence when we should protest disenfranchises our publishers, the students, who spent part of their tuition to give us that fateful chance of a lifetime to be their representative voice. That is the real challenge of the writing role all Chroniclers play, and to squander all that privilege would be a terrible waste. We are called campus journalists for no small measure. The demands are tough, and the stakes are high.

In the end, what being a Chronicler tells us is that we may try to evade responsibility and close our senses to the truths happening before us, but in the end the choices we make once we put on our Press badges will define the person that we become. The Adamsonians are our only judges and masters in determining whether or not we stink for the job at hand. But when we do a great job of it, the Adamson Chronicle to us becomes a perfumed ghost—indelible, perpetual, and resilient.

DCT has blogged 1 posts

As I sway the bush of fire, the fire slaps me back
January 22nd, 2008 posted by tikgirl under Random Thoughts. [ Comments: 5 ]

In this age of reason, would it be permissible to urinate in your styro coffee cup if you are in a free way and you really need to pee yet there’s not a single visible gas station or public comfort rooms within a mile’s range?
It was said that psilocybic mushrooms (as par to incubus’ psychopsilocybin) connect us to the “overmind”, to the thoughts or ideas that give us new intelligence, new meanings to every day things, and very sophisticated understanding of the things around us. the wonderful mushroom gives us an opportunity to glimpse the real from the unreal, to grasp the unreachable, to get answers from the stars, to bridge the gaps between our consciousness to our subconsciousness.
indeed, the hallucinogenic mushroom has been abloom in the world for over five thousand years ago, back to where Egypt rules the intelligentsia of the world, where they have already acquired the perfection of mummification and the aesthetic and hygienic use of circumcision (and you thought the Jews, did it first. Ha!) and the perfection equation to build the perfect pyramidal buildings. what then? where am i heading?
well, obviously, the paganic Egyptians where the first ones to establish beliefs, knowledge, and obviously, integration. Their belief in the goddess, Isis (or Io, in Greece) and Astura (Ashtir in some), Mother Nature in her full splendor, gives us a hint into the difference that slices the cake between intelligence, advanced technology and free thinking, versus ignorance, backwardness, and dogma.
** **
when i say dogma, what comes into your mind, first?
According to what i’ve read recently, the city of Babylon, where Jezebel, the repulsed queen (whore for the Bible, but we’ll get to that, actually) placed her gypsy temple (well, that’s an understatement) and her paganic festivals and rituals, as well as her “vessels of divination” (the conch shell and the magical stick are appropriate) was crudely killed in an ambush made by a certain man (i already forgot his name, is it Jonas something? enlighten me); she died, or rather killed, by being fed to the dogs. only her hands were salvaged from the reckless imprudence of the bubbling, salivating, smelly dogs of the palace. Not a worthy price to pay after continuing one’s belief in a different environment, eh?
anyway, let me just tell you that Jezebel is a Phoenician. Yep, a pure blooded, gypsy wimsy, pagan Phoenician. her beliefs, or rather, their beliefs are as that of the salutations for Astura, for Mother Nature, for the world, not the people, and for nature, not for the human’s ability to destroy it. they were, shall i say, due to my lack of vast knowledge about them, nature-worshippers. they worship the sun, most especially the moon, the trees, the lakes, rivers, seas, even rocks and butterflies.
everything that is natural, everything about nature, they hold sacred.
now, when Jezebel married king Solomon, she was transported to a place where people worship only one God, although they don’t know what or who it is. the matter of their faith is the only thing that they hold on for, which, may i remind you, may have been undoubtedly be made by any other fellow who wants to give his countrymen something to hope for, just like their Phoenician counterparts. anyway, these people, according to their own beliefs, is that no one should believe in any other God other than their God. whoever digresses from it is insinuated as a heretic, an atheist, a pagan, a non-believer. this transforms as something very objectionable; very objectionable to the elders, and clergymen (assuming that they are implementing their own dogma towards that belief? hmm..).. and Jezebel’s act of building temples and shrines to contact the divine with her Inanimate objects, as well as her colorful and often very expressive (with signs of pornography, mind you. spill the beans time) festivities, this made the drools of those against the Phoenician tradition, the paganic rituals, and made them Oh so against Jezebel that they did what they wanted to do to her.
Execute the little bitch who is trying to poison the dull minds of these poor people. She is a big contender. and she may ruin our most established reli….
Okay, remember what i told you about the difference of intelligence, advanced technology and free thinking against ignorance, backwardness and dogma?
Exhibit A:
Intelligence and Advanced Technology vs. Ignorance and Backwardness

The Pyramids of Gyza, the temples of olmec, the stonehenge, the gangantuan statues of christmas islands and the vast library of Alexandria. the cute, little idea of making the rays of the moon to touch King Tutankhamen’s tomb in a specific time and date. the wondrous old medicinal use of herbs, dating back from five thousands years, in alabaster jars excavated under the land of the Fertile Crescent.
Aren’t these the wonderful, often mysterious, structures that early earthlings like us have made (which could have been waaaay above their time. how they’d managed, science is still wondering).
Palestinian war. The unbearable cruxifictions. Blood and holy wars. Those who were killed in the name of the Crusade. the farmers who were forcefully made to plant this and that but was never theirs. Torching of libraries (remember Nero?). Ceremonial killing of babies (and we thought that cults do that). The horned guy story that gave us the creeps, from television shows, to movies, and nightmares (which was the result of those exhibitions of power by those “higher” than us). Political merging with those high “faith” dealers, which resulted in the eradication of maternal beliefs, and paved the way to paternized belief…
these spooots, where did these came from? whose bloody hands had drawn this remorse over the world? how about the torched, ancient books, those old knowledge? Our society is now the result of the political system that was almost convenient in during those old times of “ruling” through “Divine Providence”.
Intelligence or Ignorance? Which has the advanced technology, which was backward?
Remember that Egyptians are astronomers, they study the heavens for the divine, while some on the same side of their part of the world, has shrugged divinity of the Moon, and followed spoot-knows-who-wrote some totalitarian writings.. they may have even altered these, according to their desires.. for hunger of.. p-o-w-e-r. Okay, I am generalizing.

Exhibit B:
Free Thinking vs. Dogma
Order is what the world needs. if there is order, everybody can live serenely, everybody would be able to live peacefully without the eventual crime or crimes done to them. How harmonious..
But then again, there would be no order if there is no chaos. How would we be able to distinguish ORDER if there is NO chaos? You must simply wonder.
Rules, totalitarianism, and limits surely gave us order. Aye aye, Sir. How did this helped us? it made us become decent civilians, concerned citizens, civilized humans.
Have you ever wondered why we, at the first place, we were given these? of course, for the simple logic of eradicating evil. But how would be we able to define evil?
is it because one killed someone? On what grounds did he killed that someone? Is he that evil?
How evil is evil? is it because a certain act has been condemned to be evil by that big fat book, which is full of ambiguous metaphors?
Let’s put it in this way. Neglect made people steal, kill and be depraved, repressed. Certain dogmas made them feel inferior, as if they believed that their original sin (i didn’t even tasted that apple! wait, is this a sure fire sign that our faith and piety is because of guilt, and not because of true belief?) have already tainted them with the polka-dots of the Seven Deadly Sins.
Guilt is a very big, fat, and juicy word. are we really guilty of things that we do not even know yet? Purification is good, yes.. but purely inhibiting purification of the self, yet making everything around you into the depths of pollution (be it the conscience, the mind,or the environment) is not a good way of purification.
Dogma has made us live in a very crude little world wherein we all have to abide by the rules or else we’ll get spanked by that someone-up-there. Oh yes, it did a lot of goodness for our own. But have we ever considered, my dear lovable reader, that these dogmas could have shaped the violence that our society now has been exhibiting?
As farming and herding is the ultimate lifestyle back then, people work and work and work, from all walks of life, from men to women, from children to ancients, and they have specific tasks in which they have to fulfill in order to make the community thriving. Those were the days were everyone vibrates the working aura; everybody gets what they worked for.
And in these times, festivals such as Saturnalia and Eostre, the winter and summer solstices, were made in favor of Mother Nature, for giving them good harvests, good crops and good herds and stocks.
the festivities are colorful, whimsical but with a bit of ritualistic silence, in order to maintain that certain height of the feast. They give out poetry and candle lightning ceremonies, food, and other good harvests that they had during the past seasons, and offer it to Mother Nature. Sure, people at those times are thankful enough to appreciate Mother Nature, Astura, Io, Isis.
Fasting, long hours on the pillar, and collecting “indulhensiya” from the farmers and others are the rituals of Christianity. And then, a feast would be given, but not before the strenuous sermons (often to make us guiltier even if, for example, we have worked hard and prayed hard, because of our original sin). Often, the rich and the clergymen, as well as those who are in the churches, get richly cooked food and deliciously seasoned birds, while the farmers, the poor ones, may eat what they have; what they only have. And that means, whatever they have planted and harvested, as long as where they planted it is the church’s property, then it is not theirs; and whatever they have grown from it is not theirs; therefore, they can live in eternal poverty and eat gruel or what-not after the fastings and the long hours of praying.
And still, breeding thoughts of inequality would make them feel guilty because they are making such a fuss over the rights of “those hand-picked by the Divine hand” and theirs.
** JEEZ.**
Pagans lived in their belief that is so potent with the heavens, the stars and the divine that they have worked it out harmoniously until Christianity took the serene beliefs and tore apart the shrines and made them believe that there is a God out there that would punish them if they did not submit to He’s power. it could be quickly noted that its a He, meaning the God is not Mother Nautre, but something else..
something else..
So, if it is not Astura, or Mother Nature, who gave us these wonderful waters, these vast lands, these astonishing greens, then who?
What is so “so much” of this one Divine Being that He allegedly made rules for us, on how to behave and what to believe?
There is, yes, a creator, but, unfortunately, there could be creators. The world was created by SomeHand. And so is paganism. And so is Christianity.
If everything is just made, then is it permissible to believe in one’s own vision? If yes, then why is there this “guilt” thing? Is it because it was dictated upon us, since we were wee kids, that we were born sinful, and that the only way to redeem ourselves is to swim with the flow of these rules, of these limits?
And how about Mother Nature? Is she dead? Where is she? Where is our mother wherein in her womb, we all sprung out?
Was she locked up on a cabinet of sorts?
Locked up, i guess. Shall we set her free? She might die from suffocation there.
In due time, when we have the key, or as long as we have devised such an instument to be able to cut through the steel chains of paternized beliefs.

Tags: mysticism, dogma, pagan, belief, solstices

tikgirl has blogged 13 posts

We sell: Corn oil, soya bean oil, palm oil, biodiesel, jatropha oil, etc.
January 4th, 2008 posted by mobiloilmills under Uncategorized. [ Comments: 1 ]

This post has been transferred to the Forum.

mobiloilmills has blogged 1 posts

Adamson alumni unite to save Mrs. Bendero
January 3rd, 2008 posted by Ramon Millonte under Alumni Stories. [ Comments: none ]

Cocofed scholars recently worked together and donated money to help pay for Mrs. Bendero’s operation. Here is Mrs. Bendero’s “thank you” letter for all those who helped.

To Our Beloved Members of Adamson
University Cocofed Scholars Alumni Foundation Inc. (Aducsafi)

Attention : Engr. Roberto “Bobbie” Augusto G. Montales

Once in a rare while, you come across a group of young men and women who show by their deeds that they are not just like groups that you see around. The Adamson University Cocofed Scholars Alumni Foundation Inc (Aducsafi) is one of those groups. It was founded 24 years ago and until now, they are as strong and as cohesive as ever.

any of them have jobs in other countries so that if you read the roster of their present addresses, it would seem like an international community.

Personally, however, I have only praises for the group. My husband, Dean Domingo A. Bendero, who was their Cocofed’s Program Coordinator of Adamson University years back, spoke to them at a recent annual reunion of the group. In response to their query regarding my health status, he mentioned to them that I will undergo a major operation at the Chinese General Hospital. Immediately, they rallied as one group and told us not to worry about the hospital expenses they will take care of it. Their words became true. In no time, they were able to raise from among themselves a hefty amount to meet the initial expenses estimated by my doctor to be P100,000. Their response was so spontaneous and overwhelming so that my husband and I want to show our sincerest gratitude for them.

Majority of those who gave financial support requested us not to mention their names. One of them deposited at our bank account P20,000 and 2 others of P10,000 each.
Again, my husband and I will never tire of thanking the whole group for the gesture of generosity and selflessness which you extended to both of us. More power to you and God reward you many times over.

Rest assured that we will not forget you in our daily prayers.

Sincerely and gratefully yours,

Teresita M. Bendero

Ramon Millonte has blogged 17 posts


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