Counting Potatoes

Quirky Observations, Opinions and Theories on Life

Apr 30, 2009

A Frat Story

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As with most things in my life, becoming a 'fratman' back in college was one of the many things I didn't plan or even wish for. In fact, if someone have predicted back in highschool that I'd be one a few years from graduation, I'd probably laugh out loud and challenge him to bet on his prediction. [just to be safe, I would have never studied in Manila]

There's just something about secret handshakes, initiation burn marks, whispered passwords and better yet, the fratman 'look' [the one that's supposed to convey danger, mystery and suspense to girls] that I find very cheesy and funny - like something that came out of a low budget action movie. Moreover, I can't even imagine myself acting all mysterious, and dangerous, etc. [jinggoy? He he he]

That's why when 2 of my highschool buds [botchok and chard] joined one of the hiphop fraternities [gangstas paradise played on the background while they were getting whacked by a paddle], I found myself rolling on the floor laughing so hard at their stupidity [they never told me any frat stories after that].

Little did I know that the same faith awaited me 4 years from then...

It was my second year in college and I was very active in our activist/regional org and the newest boarder of an all bicolano boarding house. Three of them were from the same engineering frat and one of them was my yosi buddy. Predictably, I was trying to convince this yosi buddy to join my org [so that I'll have a source of cigs in our tambayan]. He in turn, could convince his two other brods to do the same.

"I'll join your org if you attend our frat's orientation", he negotiated.

Orientation in our org was very much like a sale's pitch seminar wherein all the good points of the org was presented after which, the prospects are asked to decide if they want to move to the next level. If you only came for the free food, shame on you but that's ok. You can opt not to join and there would be no hard feelings.

It was with this notion that I agreed to his condition and went to the frat tambayan alone the next day to ask for my orientation.

God, these were scary looking people, i remember thinking as I walked towards the tambayan table. All were smoking, playing cards and glaring at me [they didnt know i was there for the orientation] for walking through frat grounds. One of them got up to stretch his hands over his head [which reached the ceiling easily].

I sat down [they were glaring a bit more fiercely now as they thought I was there to eat my lunch on their table].

"Hello, I'm here for the orientation"

"oh..." a pause as their minds undergo a paradigm shift. I would later on learn that prospects rarely come alone to the tambayan asking for an orientation.

Suddenly, there were welcoming smiles all over the table [which was a bit weird as they were intensely glaring at me just a few minutes ago], handshakes and introductions. After a few minutes of small talk and chitchat, some of them then proceeded to orient me about the frat - history, advantages of joining, comparison, etc, etc and I was nodding my head like the dog figurine on a car dashboard all throughout.

"so that's it" one of them says "now, we'd like to formally invite you to join our frat". Hands were suddenly out and I got the vague feeling that shaking them would mean yes and seal my fate - which I had no intention of ever doing now that I got my orientation.

Uhhhh... I'd like to think about it first if you guys don't mind.. [a preset safe answer to wiggle off the hook]

"That's ok", one of them smoothly says "seeing as we were not able to give you a formal orientation/presentation, we'd like to invite you to one instead - a deeper discussion of the things said here.

Again, those smiles which activated the self-preservation alarms in my head..

Uhhh... I don't know... I trailed off..

"It's nothing", he hastened to assure me.

"Just a few drinks, a more indepth discussion of the things said here and that's it"...

Expectant looks...

"hooookaay..."

Followed by handshakes and more of those eerie smiles all around..

Remember all those persistent salesmen that somehow convinces you to buy things you didnt even plan on having or didnt even like? Or religious org members too nice to refuse then you somehow find yourself in gatherings trying your damn best to pretend you had the gift of tongues?

I should've known.. The smiles were those of a cat that swallowed the canary..

And with my "hoookay..", I sealed my fate..

There was no turning back after that.. And the consequences of quitting were much more horrible than that of just bearing the initiation and final rites [I've always wondered about the traumatized guys in school being roughed up, spat upon and bullied in cr's and hallways, it was then I found out that they were frat quitters]. In the world of fraternities, you stuck to your word regardless if you said it while you were stinking drunk or half concious from all the beatings.

O well, I'd rather do the spitting than be the one spat upon...

And just like that [several months of torture], I became a fratman..

Not that I ever regretted it. I remember reading something scrawled by a jaded soul on a bathroom wall in UP that says something about nobody in this world dying a virgin, Life fucks us all. It may be so, but even then I think we all still have the option of learning something even when we are on our backs while life humping us on the ground [which reminds me of the time I joined the ROTC officer's Core Platoon when I was just a freshman but that's for another story].

It was in our frat that I learned much about how to handle people and projects, how to manage disputes and embarked on my first forays in the world of business.

Of course, I also managed to learn a good deal about frat wars, handling neophytes and of course coping with the ever present mysterious, dangerous, brooding, intense, etc, look that most brods put on with their fratshirts.

Thank God there were no secret handshakes or a Gangsta's Paradise background music though, he he

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10 am... Still in Bed.. Its a butt freezing / gonads shrinking kind of day in the middle of summer. Waiting for work and pondering on some of the unsolved mysteries of life while at it. Some of which are as follows:



1. Brittle Plastic Utensils

Don't you just hate plastic utensils that break very easily when eating? I mean, what's the use of making plastic eating utensils that are softer than the meat we usually eat?

2. Headset with one chord longer than the other

I hate using my phone headset. Somehow, I just cant figure out how to properly use them what with the other chord much longer than the other. Used to be, headset chords were equal in length and simple to use. Now, I have to decide which of my ears are farther from my neck.

3. Booksale with disorganized and hard to reach books

And what's up with booksale? Why sell books, all the while making it harder for bookworms to find the books they want in the cluttered, disorganized shelves? You find Sci-Fi books scaterred all over the place, historical books among romance pocketbooks and murder and mystery books among everything else!

Somethings you even have to crouch near the floor and dig through the books stacked near the bottom of the shelf. Or move the blocks of book from one place to another like a damn rubik's cube just so you could see what's behind or below.

I hope they realize how much potential sales they are losing all because of their sub-optimized, poorly designed bookshelves.

4. Pubic hairs in the public urinals

One of the things that perplexes me most in comfort rooms for males... Why.. Are there bits of pubic hairs in the urinal? How did it get there? At first, I thought it was a natural consequence of opening and closing zippers when peeing, but seeing as I've never experienced hairs being ripped from there when I zip up or down, I quickly disregarded this idea. Then I thought, maybe these were pubic hairs that have been pulled loose while walking around the mall and have escaped the mothership when we pull down our briefs to pee. No such luck.. It never happened to me.

Which sets me thinking of a weird but probable hypothesis [someone once said that in the absence of any other plausible explanation, the last remaining theory, no matter how far fetched or weird it is, should be the truth]. Maybe there are guys that have this weird habit of pulling pubic hairs from their wieners right after they pee. Kinda like a tip to the faithful urinal or perhaps a marker that says to the next person - I was here. So in effect, they zip down, pee, wag their motherships to check for any stowaways, and think - almost forgot, got to leave some pubic hair for the next guy. Thus, the thick, short and curly hairs on the urinal. o_O

5. Brief Flaps

Which reminds me of another thing I've been wondering about since gradeschool.. Why are there flaps in men's briefs?? In fact, as I am writing this, I took out one of my briefs again just to be sure. It's composed of two thick pieces of cloth overlapping each other over the main area. There's this space upfront where you can squeeze in your fingers and reach the other side. What is this for?o_O

An alternate route perhaps? But i've never heard of someone who prefers bringing out the goods this way.

Extra adjustment space? Maybe the one-eyed snake is supposed to go this way during periods of agitation and periodic lengthening? Kinda like a doorway to the outside world.

Or maybe, this design is for those who use both sides of their briefs before washing them [had this type of boardmate back in college]?o_O so its one flap for Monday and another one for Tuesday - a go green option for briefs, he he

So there you go... If you can shed some light on the above mentioned life questions, it will be very much appreciated.^_^

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When Adam complained to God that he was lonely in his paradise, God, in his infinite wisdom, chose not to give him a laptop with an internet connection, a playstation or a wii, some movies to watch or some weed to smoke. Instead, he gave him a woman.

Perhaps God knew that as soon as Adam grow tired of his little toys he'll come complaining again and again asking for bigger toys and newer versions [a perpetual pain in the ass]. And so instead of giving him something to be entertained about, God gave adam someone who will plague his existence to perpetuity and keep him on his toes. Adam will then be too busy thinking about keeping his sanity to think about petty things like entertainment.

And so it came to pass, Adam got kicked out of paradise because the woman was too curious about the one thing forbidden to them, Samson became a slave because of a woman barber, John the Baptist lost his head because of a woman's bday wish, The Great Wall of China [one of the most massive engineering projects even to this day] became the Great Useless Wall of China all because of a woman who seduced a Chin General guarding the gate, and President Clinton lost his job because of a woman and some transactions that occurred under the table.

Even now, in the apex of scientific achievement, in the age of space flight, nanotechnology, robotics and genetics, men are no closer solving this multi-millenium bug infecting his system. A few woman mysteries are listed below:


1. The Comfort Room Vigil

What happens to a woman when she enters a comfort room? Why do they take so long in a very simple task like peeing? Do they pray the rosary or perhaps play a game of bridge? Are there additional protocols and security clearance checks in the girls' CR? Or when they say they have to pee, do they really mean they have to pee, brush their hair, fix their make-up, adjust their tampoons, pluck their eyebrows, paint their toenails etc, etc? For men, who spend 60 seconds on the average when they pee, this is utterly baffling.


2. The Xmas Tree Boyfriend

Women bring a lot of widgets and doodads when they go outside. Face powder, lipstick, make-up, sunblock, hair brush, hair spray, mirror, eyeliner, wallet, cellphone, etc, etc, etc. The perplexing thing is, women's fashion ignore this basic habit when it comes to designing women's clothes. All they have come up with are pants' pockets that are too small or too tight to carry anything, even a damn cellphone!

On the other hand, the only thing men carry when they go outside are their car keys, wallet and cellphone. Interestingly enough, men's outdoor shorts or pants are full of extra pockets which we dont really need. That is.. Until... The woman hands over her widgets and doodads! Then you look like a fuckin' xmas tree bulging full of things you wouldnt want to be caught dead carrying! [i think a woman designed these shorts].

Oh yeah, some women will defensively say that they have handbags for these things. Riiiiggghhttt... Look around the mall and see who lugs these handbags as well as the other shopping bags around.. He he, women's handbags should be designed for men.


3. Tubes, Miniskirts and High Heels

Only women are willing to wear clothes and shoes designed to make them feel uncomfortable. [this maybe a part of eve's curse for biting into the forbidden fruit - a genetic coding hardwired into women’s' brains that predisposes them to masochistic fashion]. High heels that squeezes the toes towards the front [some turn blue] and slips into sidewalk cracks. Tubes that are always in danger of flipping/sliding down and turning you from a tease to a pornstar [sayaw tayo!!] so you always have to pull them up. Miniskirts that are always in danger of hiking up and exposing what's only meant to peek so you always have to pull them down.


4. Havaiannas Craze

Speaking about fashion.. What's up with them sandalbida looking outrageously priced rubber slippers??? Is this a modern The Emperor's New Slippers kind of story? Women walking around admiring each others rubber slippers as if they are a totally new invention or something?? What's happening here?? Do they see something we men dont??@.@ Or is this just a global joke they're pulling on us [maybe there's a secret forum where women are laughing their asses off because of our perplexed looks.]


5. ESP not Included

Something that should've been stamped on men's foreheads when we were born.. ESP not included.. Women.. NEWFLASH.. WE CANT READ YOUR MINDS and even if we could MOST TIMES IT WONT CHANGE A THING..

Here's an example..

Woman: I'm Hungry
Man: What do you Want to Eat?
Woman: I Dont Know..
Man: Where do you want to eat?
Woman: Anywhere Nice..

#$@@%%!!!

at this point.. I cant help but wonder how women got promoted to Homo Sapiens when they cant even make up their minds about what they want to eat.. i mean.. even amoebas know what they want right?@.@

Also, they'll tear your eyes out if you happen to say something against gender equality and yet sulk for hours if you dont help carry their shopping bags..@.@

"I will Survive" might be a song they connect with and Independence their new buzzword, but when they need to get somewhere, you can bet your ass you better warm up the car..

speaking about sulking.. when women do this and you ask what the problem is and they answer "it's nothing".. DONT take it at face value and For God's sake DONT start acting Chirpy and Relieved.. Hell has just begun..

Back in Gradeschool I always wondered why Professor Charles Xavier was single and bald given his ability to read minds.. Now I Know.. must be because of his ex-wife..

6. Gender Equality

Speaking about gender equality.. we guys cant even expect that our women knows how to cook these days.. or sew close holes in our clothes worth a damn.. its the 20th century after all..

WHY... is it then that they're in the car waiting for it to get fixed while we're out in the fucking heat changing the tires??@.@ WHY.. is their broken laptop on our to-do LIST? and why are they screaming under the bedsheets waiting for us to go out of ours and kill the damn cockroach??@.@ I think they pulled a fast one on us regarding this gender equality thing...

7. Reality Shows

The Bachelor... The bachelorette.. America's Next Top Model.. Temptation Island...

WHAT'S WITH THESE SHOWS??@.@

I mean.. I get why CSI became a hit.. you get to connect the dots..
Heroes.. some nifty mutant powers..
Doctor house... medical mysteries

But shows about bitch wars???@.@ Women figuratively scratching each others eyes out??@.@

Watch them closely while some girl in the show gets humiliated and you'll see evil little smiles and hear some nasty side comments of glee.. like vampires bathing in blood..

it's creepy..

at least no one gets emotionally fucked up for life in UFC or WWF... @.@ and they say we're blood thirsty..


8. Relativity

According to Einstein and his theory of relativity, time dilation and relative time occurs when one of the reference frames is moving close to the speed of light..

I beg to disagree...

You dont need gigantic multi Billion dollar particle accelerators or mini black holes just to see time dilation in action.. you just have to see how a woman prepares herself when about to go out..

when you ask a woman out and she tells you "give me a minute to prepare".. you can bet your ass her definition of a minute is not in the same universe as yours..

Men... Here's a little tip.. Don't start taking a bath unless you see her putting her shoes on.. you'll be dressed and ready to go out by the time she has finished double checking her make-up..:D


9. Painted Nails

What's with painted nails?? is this a woman ritual derived from ancient warriors putting on war paint on their faces? @.@ like painting their nails firetruck red when they're planning to do something really really naughty later on??@.@ Is it an outlet for excess creative energy?? some form of self-expression perhaps??

thank God men dont have such compulsions to color and mess with our bodies and such.. I cant imagine spending 30 minutes or so coloring my balls to match my mood before going out..


10. Reflective Women

Not all women do this, but I've noticed a growing percentage especially among young women in the growing gimik strip along magsaysay ave who seem very fond of looking at their own reflections in car window tints, storefront glass windows, pillar surfaces, stall mirrors and just about anything that would give them a decent reflection of themselves - even puddles of water!

So in effect, you see masses of moving women, pausing now and then in front of anything that reflects light adequately, turning their heads just the right angle, sucking in their cheeks and making goo goo eyes at the reflective surface. They then move on to the next reflective surface and do everything all over again.

O_o

Sometimes I wonder if the flood of microwaves, cellphone signal waves, radiowaves, wifi and bluetooth signal waves is finally taking its toll on the gray matter in our brains, especially the young.

Heck, they've even started to populate friendster with these googoo eyed puckered lips Zoolander pose thanks to the miniature cameras on their phones. If God created us in his own image, he must be grimacing from all the friendster and myspace pics he has seen recently.

Some say that at some time in the future, men will finally be as powerful as gods - capable of bending the fabric of space and even capable of unraveling the fabric of time. Maybe then, they'll go back to Adam and give him his weed or playstation or something. he he he

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some more additions to my happy marbles post...:)

1. The Clay Dick

The incident happened way back in Grade 6 - a time when most girls in our class were still in the dark on what a male genital looks like. It was class break and the girls were huddled in one corner of the classroom swapping [what else] gossips about the girls not present in the group. We boys were also huddled in the opposite corner busy fashioning a real looking dick out of flesh colored clay [even the nerves were detailed].

Upon completion, one of the boys in our group unzipped his pants and stuck the clay dick inside [just so that most of the apparatus was hanging outside]. He then proceeded to walk towards the girls' corner as if nothing was amiss.

"Hey Girls!" He called out in a singsong voice.

The girls turned somewhat in unison irritated at losing their gossip thread. Then, upon seeing the monstrosity that they never expected to see a. During a gossip session. B. Inside the classroom during class break. And c. Hanging just meters from their face long before they even had their first kiss, absolute bedlam broke!! Girls were scattering like cockroaches before a glaring light. Some stood rooted to the spot, their eyes as big as saucers and their mouths uttering incomprehensible gibberish. Some covered their eyes but were peeking through their fingers. Some were scrabbling over desks like demented women, crying because of the trauma of seeing the ghost of xmas future [ha ha ha].

But the best is yet to come. He he. Somewhat fascinated at the fleeing traumatized girls and bored at flashing the clay dick at the oogling girls left behind, this boy proceeded to tear out his clay dick from his pants and hurl it towards the fleeing girls like a damn grenade!

The fleeing girls screamed even louder and some almost fainted at the sight of a detachable flying dick - their brains unable to comprehend the logic of how a dick can suddenly come flying out from the pants like a sidewinder heat seeking missile.

We didnt need to go to the canteen for snacks that day. All our tummies were almost bursting from the excess air we got from laughing our hearts out. He he


2. The Pebble in the Sky

A year earlier, one of the girls in our class was being teased about the hairs growing in her armpits [how the fact was discovered, i don't know]. Anyway, me and my friend was just about to go home, walking over the freshly cut grass of the school lawn when we chanced upon this classmate.

"Hoy!" My friend mischievously called to the girl. Upon which he proceeded to stuff the freshly cut grass into the armpit hole of his school uniform.

Maybe it was because of all the teasing she has been suffering all day long because of a perfectly normal puberty stage she was going through. Or maybe it was because of the incredibly tasteless [ and funny ] portrayal or her armpit bush.

This girl screamed, picked up a large sized rock and threw it in a parabolic arc. My friend and I were laughing at her futile and frustrated attempt [she was quite a distance from us and there was no way a girl could hit a target that far].

When suddenly...

Wwhhaaacckkkk!!...

My friend got hit squarely on his forhead. It was no small whack either. I mean, you could almost hear the rock cracking his skull and rattling his brain inside.

Next thing I knew, my friend was down on the ground, blood gushing out of his head while I just stood there staring stupidly at his writhing form. I heard later on that it took several stitches to sew his wound close.

Score one for womens' lib I guess. He he


3. The Bodybuilder

A bodybuilding gym was then located next to our school, which I frequented every afternoon. Now, there were two people I remember most in this particular gym. One is a big, tall, professional body builder [who the girls were oogling whenever he was around] and the other one was a very short, stocky and heavily muscled regular who always felt he had to outshine this professional body builder whenever he came to town [I think he was building his body to compensate for his height].

One time, the tall professional body builder decided to use the very big and very heavy barbell used only for squat exercises. Even I was impressed. The whole thing almost weighed as much as me and he was going to use it for his benchpress set!!

1-2-3-4-5... A short rest, then... 1-2-3-4-5

I had to restrain myself from cheering along with the oogling girls when he accomplished this inhuman feat!

The professional body builder then prepared to return the heavy squats barbell to the appropriate spot when...

"pare, ako na muna / dude, i'll use it first"

said the short stocky man to the professional bodybuilder [perhaps he felt he had to assert his alpha male status in the gym or maybe he just wanted the girls to oogle him too]

Concerned [the barbell looked larger than him], I edged over closer to short stocky man and asked.. "pare, do you want a spotter?"

[a spotter is your insurance against doing something stupid in the gym like getting yourself crushed by a barbell that's too heavy for your muscles]

He looked at me as if insulted that I should suggest such as thing.. "nnooo.." he drawled, then beamed a smile to the oogling girls..

"well... Ok..." I said, then proceeded to complete my stretching exercises.

1-2-3-4-5.. Oho ho.. Little smurf got some muscle in them bones I thought as I watched the barbell rise and fall from the corner of my eyes.

1.... - 2........... -3...................

.........?

..................?

"pare... spot......."

a weak strained little voice called from the benchpress machine...

I looked over and there he was, straining with all his strength to keep the barbell from crushing him, all his nerves were visible, his bloodshot eyes were almost popping out and there were two lines of mucus running from his nose to his cheeks and towards his eyes...

It took all my strength not to collapse in laughter right there and then as me and several guys helped lift the big barbell off him.

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Apr 21, 2009

Chicken or Egg?

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A game that every couple gets to play sooner or later in the course of their relationship. Unlike children games though, this game is not played to bring us closer, make us happy or to make us more loved. Its a game played to prove that we are right.

The game is simple: What came first? Chicken or egg? Choose your answer and defend it to the death. We can stretch our use of logic to the limit and sometimes even knowingly bend the truth. Failing this, we can use emotions, generalizations, suspicions and even intuition - just so we can defend our opinion.

Chicken or egg? We laugh at silly children games never realizing that they are infinitely better than our own.

Why do we spend more time proving we're right rather than working out what's wrong?

Why do we spend so much time remembering faults rather than forgiving them and starting on a truly clean slate?

Why do we spend so much effort in blaming others rather than reflecting on our own faults.

Why do we find it so hard to remember what we have and yet find it so easy to remember what we dont?

Why would we rather hurt ourselves than compromise our pride?

Why would we rather be alone and miserable than say sorry?

In the game of chicken and egg, everyone loses - families break apart, once loving relationships are laid to waste and sensible solutions discarded in the name of the unchangeable past. As the song in the Movie The Lord of War goes, nobody's right and everybody's wrong.

So what came first? We laugh at this silly question and yet fail to see the silliness of its equivalent in our relationships and everyday life.

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Apr 20, 2009

They Were Fathers

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* something I wrote for my cousin who also lost her father last year

Perhaps its in their birthdays that we miss our fathers the most - not on their death anniversaries, not on new years and not on father's day - but their birthday. Maybe its because this day is specially his and unlike during holidays where people go around greeting other people merry xmas, happy new year, or happy father's day, you know your father would've woken up feeling just a tad more special than usual today - this day, afterall, is only his. He may not say it out loud, or even confess to expecting anything special today but you know that deep inside, he's holding his breath, waiting for a reaffirmation of how his much life has touched yours and because we love them, we strive to bridge that expectation and more than anything else, strive to make them feel cherished, more so this day than any other day of the year.

It could be as simple as a phone call, asking him about what he's doing and how his life is going. It could be as quaint as a little package of simple things that has traveled halfway around the world. It could be as nice as a simple day together. Or it could be a surprise birthday party arranged through long distance calls to relatives close by.. It could be any or all of the above mentioned things and more. The only thread unifying everthing is the need to show love, pride and appreciation for everything they have given to us.

For the months they have spent lonely in faraway jobs just so they can bring home something to pay for our schooling. For the Christmases where they had to loan the money just so they can put something under the tree. For the little pats on the back, the little games and special day outs together when it was so obvious he needed the rest more. For being there during the crossroads in our life, trying so hard to be positive, supportive and unafraid when deep inside they quake with second thoughts and fear. For finally accepting us as grown ups and as friends.

Being a father is indeed not one of the easiest jobs on earth and it certainly isnt one of the jobs most appreciated or understood. Too easily, fathers are misunderstood as too hard, too strict, too uncaring or too demanding and more often than not, children grow closer to their mothers than their fathers.

Only when we grow up do we finally begin to understand the burden and responsibility of being a father. Providing direction and a future when they themselves sometimes do not know where to go, providing strength and stability when they themselves are sometimes about to give up, giving us Christmases to remember and taking us to vacations when they can oftentimes ill afford to do so.

Every father indeed has his own story, his own mistakes and his own regrets. We love them not for the actual things they have given us nor for the things they have done right, but given the things we have learned the hard way as we ourselves grew up to be adults or parents ourselves, we love them for simply giving fatherhood his best shot and for never giving up on his job although sometimes they may have wanted to leave everything behind. And oftentimes, that is enough.

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Nobody talks about it much.. Especially the families involved or were involved but the hunt of Yamashita's gold pervades the whole spectrum of our society. From the richest to the poorest, from the most educated to the least and from the highest in political offices to ordinary people like us. Hell, even Marcos and Mac Arthur was involved in its hunt more than half a century ago. I guess there's just something about the thought of bars of gold that rewires our brains.

Right this moment, I'll bet there are hundreds of pinoys all over the nation digging somewhere and everywhere, playing Nicholas Cage's role in National Treasure. I'll even bet that some of these were or even are your relatives or neighbors. Yup! Don't deny it! Almost every family I know has been involved or knows other families who were involved with this national past time at one time or another. In fact, just last year, a close family friend got heavily involved in it and another relative [separate situation] almost got snared. Upon deeper reflection, you can almost imagine the Philippines as a nation full of holes and mole like pinoys extending the network. No wonder we're in a sinking ship! He he

Anyway, if you're one of the un-yamashitad pinoys, you can easily spot these yamashita driven people by [of course] the holes they are driving into the ground. Admittedly, some will be on legitimate business but look out for those who have weak excuses like those digging a 'septic tank' out in the middle of nowhere, those who are suddenly interested in building a 'basement' under their houses, those who suddenly pour lots of money in a faraway 'construction site' or 'quarry', etc. Upon inspection, if you find the hole too deep and too narrow and the diggers too uncommunicative, chances are, you've found a Yamashita Hole.

And if you're one of those who'll get involved in this in the future [one never knows, he he], know these: Yamashita treasure hunts usually rest on two different premises. One is a 'treasure map' and the other one 'divine inspiration' from enchanted beings like nuno sa punsos or beings from the 3rd dimension [like kokey, he he]. The stories may differ but the techniques, the scams and the process are pretty much the same [watch out for these]:

1. The Map and The Seeker

Two of the most important components of a yamashita treasure hunt. A map [which should at least look old and should reflect how the vicinity looked like more than 50 years ago], so if you see mcdonalds or diversion road on the map, be on your guard. Do check the accuracy of landmarks too like trees, rocks and streams [they may have not even existed 50 years ago]

The map will almost always come with an old looking, tobacco munching seeker too [or a local guide]. He will be the one charged to fill your head with thoughts of gold, interpret the otherwise usual looking rocks and disseminate the 'colorful and mysterious' history of the area. Be on guard of plots and storylines that sounds too much as those written in pinoy komiks, he he. Ask yourself too why he didnt just dig it in the first place and built a mansion and a pool for himself instead of babysitting starry eyed treasure hunters like you.

2. The Gold Brick

Hand in hand with the old map sometimes is an authenthic looking gold brick [special effects]. The seeker may just let you take a peek at it [wrapped as it is in banana leaves or newspapers], sometimes he may even let you hold it. DONT get your hopes up too high! Most people fall for this scam because they WANT to believe its real Gold.

Keep your cool and don't get too excited. Pretend that you have experience in handling gold by:

A. Biting the gold bar: if its 18 carats and above, you'll see your teethmarks on the bar, if its 18 carats and below, you'll see your teeth left on the bar.

B. Putting some makeup or foundation at the back of your hand and rubbing it against the gold. The chemicals react with gold and turns the foundation a dark brown or gray color.

C. Drilling at a random spot in the gold bar and checking if the bar isnt just lead plated with gold. Of course, if its real gold, then its your problem how to get those drilled chips back in place.

D. Having the bar or sample undergo an acid test composed of nitric and hydrochloric acid [sometimes you can buy a kit from the local pawnshop or jeweler], gold turns dark brown in this test. Dont spill the acid on your skin else you'll be the one who'll turn dark brown.

3. The Registration Fee and Opening Rituals

At the heart of all scams is separating you from your hard earned money - thus the registration fee that you will have to pay upfront so that they can perform their rituals [offerings to the spirits who guard the gold], mining equipment, labor upkeep, tools, chemicals, etc, etc, etc.

While this may seem sensible at first. Consider that if the gold is buried in your property, it is THEM that should be paying you for the right to dig in your property and extract something of value. This is how oil, mining companies and power companies do it. They pay the property owners huge sums to let them use his property. On a last note, In all my years of studying mining eng'g, I've never heard of mining companies making offerings to spiritual beings before the dig either. Offerings to politicians is more likely, he he

4. The Magical Gold Detector Stick

You'll also see the gold detector contraption which is just composed of two sticks held by a person. Something that also wasnt taught to us in mining class. Seismic surveys, mineral tracer prospecting, or exploratory drillings maybe but two sticks for gold detection??? They could get rich just by selling those sticks to mining companies if that's true! Try to hide some gold jewelry in your pocket, stand close and see if the sticks will point to your crotch, he he

5. Mercury Rising

These people will also have you believe that you need to give some money so that they can buy some mercury, a compound they say that will point the way to the gold when poured.

Now, mercury may be one of the most misunderstood chemicals in human history [it has even been used as an immortality drink by a chinese emperor - he died of mercury poisoning, hehe] but it sure doesnt move over the ground and slides toward the gold when poured!

Mercury is a flotation chemical for gold - no more no less. It is applied to crushed rocks [not gold bars!] and acts pretty much the same way as soap suds in your washing machine. The gold particles [not bars] sticks to the mercury foam where they can be collected. Try hiding some jewelry in your pockets again and see if the mercury slithers up your pants, he he [run for your life if it does ha ha ha!]

6. The Mysterious Stone Markers and Rocks

Now and again, the diggers will also show you some rocks that they claim are markers that the japanese have left behind. Rocks with x indentations, large rocks grouped together, stone slabs with signs that say "slow down gold 20 meters ahead" or "ichiro the jap digger was here". Anything to convince you that humans have dug this way before. If you think about it, if we try hard enough, we'll always end up seeing what we want to see - a cloud shaped like a naked woman, a glimpse of our future in chicken entrails, lotto numbers in cow turd, etc, etc, etc. So do be wary when they show you these, show enough enthusiasm and they'll think of new expenses and stories to separate you from your dough.

7. The Layers and Japanese Traps

Mysterious rock layers, japanese traps, underground gas, spooky stories, all the works! Keep in mind though that since you're not going down that narrow, scary looking hole, who's to say that these stories are true?

Here's a tip though, if the surrounding area has been disturbed by a dig in human history, there should be a discontinuity in the rock layers in the ground where the original tunnel was, moreover, there should be at least some evidence that humans have worked there before like traces of timber supports, rock bolts, tools, straight edges, etc. If you see the regular top soil, sedimentary and bedrock layers, chances are, you're also digging a perfectly regular hole going regularly nowhere.

8. The Yamashita Diggers Depot

As I've said, all the works! He he, you'll be asked to chip in money for gas masks, detectors, wall support materials, timbers, helmets, spades, bulldozers, cables, cranes, boots, lamps, submersible pumps, etc, etc, etc, etc.

I've commented once to someone who was digging that I'll bet I'll get rich quicker by selling or renting out Yamashita Gold digging equipment, materials and supplies than by digging for one myself. I'll even offer discounts for those who rent the equipment in sets [manequins outfitted with miner get up will be displayed on the store front], and also offer mining seminars and training for labor, he he. The yamashita treasure hunter didnt appreciate the joke.

9. The 'Sliding' Gold and the Gold come back ' Choir

The gold bars fuckin moves and slides! This makes the dig a limited time offer and adds some urgency to your spending! I can almost imagine these people speaking like those weird men I see in TV home shopping networks. He he

"But wayt! There's morah! If you spend roiyt nowah we'll give you the gold bars for free!" "all these for only $2, 499 [your life savings]!! An amazing low low price for all them gold bars moving below your property!" "hurry! Else your neighbor grabs this amazing offah!"

Consider though.. If the gold bars are moving.. Then what use are the fuckin markers for??? More so the F*ckin Treasure map??? Do these markers move in tandem with the gold??? And why would the japs bury their gold in a place where they cant find it when they come back??

Ah but the gold can be made to stop moving and even rise close to the surface! All you need is to hire the services of a Gold Come Back Choir! They'll sing and they'll dance to get those gold bars for you.. This is the pinoy equivalent of the Indian Rain Dance and a more expensive and less interesting way to spend your money on dancers. I'll prefer a lap dance from a nice looking girl anytime, thank you. When I spend that much, I expect to ejaculate.

10. The Breakthrough, The Rope, and the Catch.

Now comes the funny part, he he. They'll say the Gold bars are already found and all they need to to is to tie a rope [not a heavy duty metal chain] around the box to lift it. O_o Why they just dont bring the bars brick by brick to the surface where you can sell it piece by piece and maintain cashflow and THEN buy a dozen dozers??!, I dont understand. Perhaps this is so that they'll have another reason to continue to suspense [ie, the rope broke - of course it will given the weight of gold bars, they had to cut the rope because authorities or bad people we're sniffing around the area, they can't bring the gold to the surface because selling it will attract attention, etc, etc, etc]

So for all their stories, their promises, your expenses and sleepless nights - all you're going to end up is a piece of rope peeking at the surface supposedly tied to the bars of gold [which you'll never see and cannot ever sell] and a couple more stories why you cannot get the gold or tell anyone about it to round up your yamashita experience.

By this time you'll be out of money [they always stick around till the very end] and out of further options. The Yamashita guide, the diggers and the dancers will move on to the next starry eyed yamashita treasure hunter. And the hole [with the rope peeking] will join the countless other holes all around the country that stands testament to our national stupidity when it comes to financial matters.







[note: i'm not saying that the yamashita treasure is a complete fabrication of some lambanog infused japanese soldier or komiks driven lolo, with the heavy infusion of scammers into this activity combined with the lack of scientific and historically accurate foundation of most digs, MOST yamashita treasure hunts have zero probability of success. And hard earned resources that could've sent the kids to school, built a business, cultivated a farm or earned profits as investments [all of which have a MUCH much higher chance of ROI] are drained through these 'dream' holes. Some of us would rather bet our hard earned resources as well as our family's future on low probability digs rather than trust and hone our own capabilities on CREATING wealth using our intellect and sweat.]

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There's something very medieval at the sight of people harvesting the farm. For one, while the city is full of lights, cars and new technologies, the farm is basically still being harvested the same way they have been doing it for the past thousand years - using a sickle. Of course, nowadays, equipments adapted to the standard gasoline generator partly ruins my medieval reflections. There's also no animals such as carabaos or horses in sight, which is just as well. My experience in riding a horse when we went to baguio doesnt exactly inspire me to repeat the experience in the near future - i'm sure the horse feels the same.

Being here though, its very easy to imagine how it would feel like living back in the medieval period. Even time runs a little slower. Walking around with a sword in one hand, hacking away the heads of peasants who rub me the wrong way or dragging home any woman who catches my fancy, he he (not that I see any woman worth dragging home here).

Anyway, there they are. Backs bent to the rhythm of cutting palay stalks from the ground as I view them from the shade of a tree. The rice fields stretch beyond the horizon and I wonder - how did the nobility of distant times feel as they watched the massive span of their fiefs? Did they scratch their itchy legs as I am doing now? Did they also find it hard to find a proper foothold in the muddy ground or swear and cuss as the ants and a thousand other insects cralwing or flying took tiny nibbles from their body? It sure doesnt feel that noble to me.

Standing here for hours f*ckin baking in the sun scratching my legs endlessly while I wait for the harvested palay to be cleaned, watching little harvest processes and rituals repeat themselves over and over and over again. I can't help but understand why Game ka na ba, wheel of fortune and now pinoy bingo are some of the highest rated TV shows in this country. With a sun baked brain and battered body at the end of the day, can we fault these people if they have become masochistic? Choosing to empty their minds over the grating sound of a whiny-nasal voice of the TV host instead of resting in blessed silence?

Now the rain pours in buckets out of nowhere. All of us are forced to hole ourselves inside a tiny hut, the smell of a whole afternoon's labor emanating from the cramped bodies. What should've only taken 3 hours max now extends indefinitely into the wee hours of the night. God save me from the little flying cretins that comes after dusk and God save me from deodorantless people.

Tiny shelled creatures [kuhol], palay eating worms, palay eating rats, palay eating flying cretins, palay viruses and fuckin palay eating kids, these have become the new stuff of my nightmares. How I wish I can just post tesla coils, or automatic sentry guns on the boundaries of our farm.
"Hold! This is a private area! Identify Yourself!"

"ahi hi hi" - sound of palay eating kids laughing at the novel human contraption.

"this is your last warning! Stay back, stay away!"

"ahi hi hi" - palay eating kids don't understand.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Palay eating kids blown to smitherins.. Cretins eliminated.

Rain's over and the laborers prepare to go out into the fields once more. Its amazing how much work, time and preparation this simple product. And this is just one end of the whole process. From here, the palay goes to the rice mill [which employs a whole set of different labor and processes], from the rice mill to the market, from the market to grocery and sari sari stores, from the sari-sari stores to homes and from homes to septic tanks where the palay is mixed with meat and veggie bits. I remember my bus trips to manila where our bus would arrive at the south expressway at around 4am, just in time to catch up with the delivery trucks and jeeps loaded with bananas, chickens, pigs, rice, etc, all headed towards a hungry sprawling metropolis. Cut that supply for just one week and I can just imagine the riots that will result.

This in turn spins off another thought.. playing our own little parts to keep the cities fed and grinding, is the great metropolis a living thing too? It grows, takes in sustenance in the form of electricity, food and water, ejects waste in the form of sewage and garbage, AND is made up of different sectors playing synegistic and interdependent roles like the different organs, tissues, cells and bacterial colonies in our body that has decided to work together eons ago. Maybe someday people would volt in too to form different body parts of a new superhuman (kinda like Voltron). Form legs and feet! Form arms and torso! And i'll be the head.... NOOO! NOT THIS HEAD! (wiggle, wiggle, spit... Spit)He he he

So much for that... I think the stiffling heat is getting to my head.. O well, back to counting them sacks...

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Apr 1, 2009

10 Guilty Pleasures

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1. Slicing Calluses from the Heel of my Foot with a Cutter. Bhenks recently gave me a gift that supposedly works like a cheese grater on calluses. I wonder how fried rice would taste like with skin gratings on top.

2. Watching Candle Wax Burn Grass - much better than watching forest or bush fires on TV. I remember watching in morbid fascination as the people flee and haul their possesions away from the big fire that consumed half the squatters area in Dagohoy, UP. I think I also bought a bottle of coke and some isaw on that occasion.

3. Ruining the Night Vision of Insensitive Drivers [those who drive around the city with their fuckin headlights set on high beam]. In fact, as soon as I have the extra money, I'm thinking of having extra strength headlights installed too - one that would burn through the retina and act pretty much like a flashbang grenade.

4. Burning Ants Alive with the Smoldering End of my Cig. [inspired by the movies independence day, the day after tomorrow, deep impact, etc]. I sometimes even do a voice over for the poor creatures [of course only when nobody else is around]

5. Ruining My Younger Sister's Day with Cucumber Slices [she hates the smell of cucumber]. This is a small revenge for her brainfreeze plots [please read my brainfreeze post].

6. Recommending Alcohol As a Disinfectant to Wounded Individuals and Watching their Reactions. Ehe he, talk about sadistic. In fact, I sometimes even fantasize about running around the hospital with bottles of alcohol in my hands, spraying every open wound I see. The screams of people in agony following in my wake complete with doppler effect. aaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaa!!!!

7. Remembering The Dark Looks, Mutters and Hisses of People as I insert myself at the front end of the line back in school. [while wearing a fratshirt]. 200 registrants and only 10 open slots. At first I was pretty uncomfortable doing this but believe me, you learn to love it and even come up with new variations with practice.

8. Watching People Run Screaming Away from a Flying Cockroach. Ehe he he, you can literally see brain matter scaterring everywhere as people run around in full panic - their primal instincts of fear taking over and crazed looks in their eyes. Now that's what I call a Kodak moment, he he he

9. Trimming my Fingernails with my Teeth. [sometimes I use the same method in trimming my toenails]. God protect our built-in Swiss Knife.

10. Watching People Trying not to Puke as I recount Stories of Blood, Feces and Gore at the Table. Ehe he, I always hold my breath for that magical moment where their eyes would suddenly glaze over, grimace shut, their backs would curve and the mouth drop open with the tongue sticking out while they run for their lives towards the comfort room. Hell, why do they always stay for the gory punchline anyways? He he

So that's it, My 10 guilty pleasures in life as tagged by Piebuko, he he. Bhenks, I'm tagging you too. He he

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