Thursday, September 22


Wonder how people managed before bullets (unless bullets came simultaneously with thought itself; hmm, funky, Wittgenstein-style thought, this one):
  • Saw Capitalism: A Love Story two nights ago. Bawled through about 80 percent of the movie. Wonder if that's normal. Surely, is predictable to cry at warm Emmy accepting speech, when some fat lady says, "Sometimes, things just take time." But at sight of Wall Street and NYSE being cordoned off with yellow police line and financial giants lobbying tirelessly to get bailout legislation passed?
  • Asked Alan, is it selfish and arrogant (and foolish) of me to choose not to work for them corporate folks to avoid the commodification of, well, my skills for their benefit? I think he said no, but I sadly forgot his explanation. All I know is, I cringe when I think how big business will make use of whatever I produce and make money off of it. But isn't that what I'm doing now? With PR and research gigs? I suppose, but as I am not tied to anything, I can choose gigs, and choose those that remotely contribute something.
  • Months ago, was contacted by huge Japanese energy company to "spin" a press release by Ibon International and feed it to media. Told them to send it over, and jaw was on floor at length capitalists are willing to go just to amass wealth, forsaking people's welfare, heritage, and, ultimately, life itself. Told them, in so many words, that there was no way I could, in good conscience do it. Last I heard, Noynoy Aquino was lauding the investment. (Oh fuck, will cry again). Word apparently got around was recently told that contact had been saying that I was getting "picky" with rakets. Will probably not hear from him again. Bye, big bucks!
  • But isn't this how the world works? You whore yourself for money, then you buy stuff and convince yourself that it was just as well?
  • At the risk of sounding like a Miss Universe candidate, is money the only currency in the world? This is sounding more and more idiotic and naive as I go on. So will stop now. But to go back to Capitalism: A Love Story (for more organic unity), will always think there is an alternative to this dog-eat-dog desperation, and while it may be inconceivable, to stop imagining so may be the end of me. Or: I am just being a lazy-ass motherfucker. Have long resigned to the fact that will never, not in this lifetime, get rich (barring acts of god, surprise inheritance, finding bag full of money in N. Domingo, etc.). Not a matter of mentality; just choice. Whenever I think of applying for a corporate job and getting a car and a house and a nice bi-annual vacation, I drift off a little, happily, then I think, then what.


  1. Hugs, Glenn. I guess the best case scenario is to find a cause worth writing for. Or write to get to know a possible cause. Save, and make your needs small. It is a sad fact: No matter how much you love a job or a cause, most people (who pay/pay well) just need a tool. Maybe that's why some people aware, but appalled by this fact, would rather build and use robots, in an attempt to make their way out of "using" humans as tools.

    And yes, it's "what you choose/and refuse".

  2. Hi, Tin. Salamat. Why is there an Edith Tiempo poem for EVERYTHING? Haha.

    I guess compromise is key, and one need not be too purist about things, no? Sigh. Will need to work re: making one's needs small, but other than that, will just have to resign with that fact that will never become rich if one keeps that bogeyman called, brr, "principle" on my back.