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Is there any Old Skool'ers out there in cyberspace??living in Dublin,Ireland.Looking to get a bit of a gathering together - for that early 90's temple of sound/spectrum/gravity/ormonde/burning man feeling... all welcome!
Today is Thursday, April 2nd, 2009 and it is now 2:05 AM here in the Philippines.
Song wise...First song is by Marly, who made the following song when she was 19, in 1994, "You Never Know." The Dane has talent but seems to have disappeared from the scene in years since. I have posted a favourite song of mine, in the version I love best, "Extended Version," with agreat video as well as opposed to the videoless links I usually provide.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=JA3HPhR7cfY
Another one iside my head now is brand new, out of NY, the only thing I miss about the place being the culture it transmits. That is the same thing that maddens me as well, that globalisation which I detest but hey, in terms of art and music I dig it!
John Kano and Sarah Mattea on voals, "I'm Done With the Pain," the "Bellatrax Mix."
www.youtube.com/watch?v=PIDCE-N8TFI
Kano is agreat NY DJ, not to be confused with the British (black) rapper epononymously called just "Kano," or the fabulous Italo-Dicso group of the very late 70s and very early 80s, also just named "kano," who i am crazy about as well.
Also gave anice, if cheap video though hse looks to be atrannie to me. Who cares, if that is your thing by all means! The dark haried girl with her in the gym though is all that and abag of chips as they say in the Bronx, or used to anyway!
Books? Reading another book I brought back with me last time out of NYC. "Palestine," a compendium of graphic novels on the conflict by the American Joe Sacco. The man is an asshole for sure, not to mention not even bothering to get his historical facts correct (attributing "A land without a People, for a People without a a land" to Herz'l when it was not even said by a Jew let alone a Zionist!).
That is but one of many glaring problems with his biased piece of nonsense but I need to always be on top fo what critics arm themselves with in order to be fully educated.
Since I last posted, Dad returned from Cebu, and has since gone back up there. Rizza is still on Cebu but coming home in week more or less (cannot give dates because of safety issues of course, until after the fact).
She and I have spent aslot of time trying to work through this latest flare up, and I have done alot of thinking...
I truly do not know what will come of it all, but expect by next week I should be alot surer. It is not asimple matter, her being with me since she was so young and her culture not allowing her to move on as it were, even if she wanted to. then she long ago converted, out of belief and that also makes it tricky, but now is the time to sort it not when she is pregnant, yes?
We will see...
Mom and I have not talked much on that, she has her own problems. The rido, the family feud is heating up once again. We won every court case in the issue and then a couple of weeks ago Laddie's son was voted out of office as mayor. Laddie, as I have diuscussed, is the famour Col. Lademora, who is para leader in our valley. His daughter is my G-Dmother, my civil wedding sponsor.
Just to recap, Laddie is an Illongo, another ethnicity/tribe related to the Bisaya (Visayans), and often in the same paras together.
He began his military career in the PC, the Constalbury, which was the old govt. run para, which has since been succeeded by the CAFGU groups.
PC was dissolved after the Marcos Era due to its propensity to arm thugs and such, though by some's opinion CAFGU is not much different, and then there is the SS-CAFGU, which I am getting into perhaps but more on that later.
Laddie was stationed on western Mindanao, in the heartland of the Bisaya/illongo vs. Moro (Muslim) wars. He made his reputation by erasing Muslim villages.
Later transferred north to the large island of Samar, which was being raped of its timber by some Illustrado families (Illustrados are the richest segment of the Philippines, many with Spanish blood of some amount or another).
Laddie's sponsor was Danding Conjaungco, a Marco's crony (one of the Rolex 12, as well as the man SAID to be behind Aqcuino's Assasination, owner of San Miguel Beer, etc and so on). Laddie exterminated, or his men did anyway, 2 villages full of NPA sympathisers on Samar but these villages were being monitored by HRW, the Human Rights NGO.
Laddie had to make a settlement with Marcos to avoid the Hague, and disbanded his men, who promptly came with him when he came to the valley. He reformed them, without direct govt. alliance but armed by the govt. Conjaungco had just bought the huge Palm Oil Plantation bordering our lands, that I sometimes talk about. We were in the midst of the NPA First War as we call it, in the mid 80s.
Laddie went famously, to a Newsweek Magazine interview wearing his necklace of human ears, as most did in those days, and some do still today. His men became pure Tad-Tad (Cho-Chop), cannabials and tribal religions mixed with Catholicsm. Tattooing their bodies, wearing their amulets.
Still here of course, they are the force I talked about when the current Govt's Minister came to visit the Plam Oil lands, now owned by a Malaysian consortium, and got a few M16s stuck in his face. Miffed he ran to the Federal Garrison in our village where they laughed as they told him to calm down, they were not doing anything about it. It was bit of ascandal here for awhile but then the NPA Operation I recently talked about took place, with the related attempt on President Arroyo's life at Butuan Airport (by NPA) and so it was eclipsed.
Laddie's daughter, my G-Dmother was mayor, then her brother was, who actually married us in the civil ceremony and was mayor until 2 weeks ago.
Now...Uncle Allan, the man leading the other faction we are feuding with, had his sister-in-law elected! His wife's sister! Now with her new influence she is tampering with the courts which is what we expected when we first found out who had won the elections.
It will come to a head soon, but that is all I can say.
We broke ground on my new outbuildings for my goat farming operation, halfway done already, thereabouts. Using cinderblock and zinc, nothing fancy but sturdy enough. I am trying to pick who I will alow to be the caretaker, the family living on the farm to take control fo day to day, which is how life is here. I have alarge pool of our people to choose.
It is a huge step up socially for whomever is picked. They go from lifting 80 kilo rice sacks 10 hours a day to sttting on a porch and giving orders, so I must pick carefully. As well, the person then ebcomes indebted to me for life and I want a person who is capable in other ways.
Sill puttering around with my Kratom trade, still trying to break into the US Market but not willing to pay the Customs Permit prices they want, only 4 Gs US but too much as I reckon.
My prescribing doctor has died, actually died a few days before my last entry but it slipped my mind. I have enough stockpiled to last a few years, but have already found other sources, not too difficult.
As well, as I said, the country has reintroduced codeine to the market so its attitude about opiates/opioids seems to be easing up so it will be interesting perhaps.
I am now down to 240 mgs of IR oral morphine, 120 per dosage, 12 hours apart.
Been to 4 meetings since last entry, over the CAFGU we are talking about forming, fold it into Laddie's group, but it remains to be seen. For my own part, I am hesistant until I know whether I will remain here for life. It is that serious of a commitment for the danger I place the family in.
Have ordered 2 pistol silencers, 4 AK supressors, and am talking about getting 2 ARs from the man in Danao, the man I mentioned. If I go for the ARs, I will order supressors for them as well. I tried the AR in the 2006 War and I really dug it, my son's Sayeret group was utilising them for atryout, they all loved them. I am waiting for the quote from danao. What is so great is that he charges so far less than even an American supplier!
On my HCV, well next week is the all important 90 day exam for Viral Load which will either have me cured, near cured, or it is off the meds and a failure.
I have had acolourful life either way, and while I do have regrets like anyone, also have had lots more opportunities to see and do things others can only dream about, so I cannot whine if I do not get cured...and cannot whine even if my conditions speeds up so to speak. After all, having had it since the mid 80s at least, who can say I have not been lucky? We will see anyway.
I have to update by Blood and Guts files, as well as My Life, maybe in the next couple of days... All for now.
Song wise...First song is by Marly, who made the following song when she was 19, in 1994, "You Never Know." The Dane has talent but seems to have disappeared from the scene in years since. I have posted a favourite song of mine, in the version I love best, "Extended Version," with agreat video as well as opposed to the videoless links I usually provide.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=JA3HPhR7cfY
Another one iside my head now is brand new, out of NY, the only thing I miss about the place being the culture it transmits. That is the same thing that maddens me as well, that globalisation which I detest but hey, in terms of art and music I dig it!
John Kano and Sarah Mattea on voals, "I'm Done With the Pain," the "Bellatrax Mix."
www.youtube.com/watch?v=PIDCE-N8TFI
Kano is agreat NY DJ, not to be confused with the British (black) rapper epononymously called just "Kano," or the fabulous Italo-Dicso group of the very late 70s and very early 80s, also just named "kano," who i am crazy about as well.
Also gave anice, if cheap video though hse looks to be atrannie to me. Who cares, if that is your thing by all means! The dark haried girl with her in the gym though is all that and abag of chips as they say in the Bronx, or used to anyway!
Books? Reading another book I brought back with me last time out of NYC. "Palestine," a compendium of graphic novels on the conflict by the American Joe Sacco. The man is an asshole for sure, not to mention not even bothering to get his historical facts correct (attributing "A land without a People, for a People without a a land" to Herz'l when it was not even said by a Jew let alone a Zionist!).
That is but one of many glaring problems with his biased piece of nonsense but I need to always be on top fo what critics arm themselves with in order to be fully educated.
Since I last posted, Dad returned from Cebu, and has since gone back up there. Rizza is still on Cebu but coming home in week more or less (cannot give dates because of safety issues of course, until after the fact).
She and I have spent aslot of time trying to work through this latest flare up, and I have done alot of thinking...
I truly do not know what will come of it all, but expect by next week I should be alot surer. It is not asimple matter, her being with me since she was so young and her culture not allowing her to move on as it were, even if she wanted to. then she long ago converted, out of belief and that also makes it tricky, but now is the time to sort it not when she is pregnant, yes?
We will see...
Mom and I have not talked much on that, she has her own problems. The rido, the family feud is heating up once again. We won every court case in the issue and then a couple of weeks ago Laddie's son was voted out of office as mayor. Laddie, as I have diuscussed, is the famour Col. Lademora, who is para leader in our valley. His daughter is my G-Dmother, my civil wedding sponsor.
Just to recap, Laddie is an Illongo, another ethnicity/tribe related to the Bisaya (Visayans), and often in the same paras together.
He began his military career in the PC, the Constalbury, which was the old govt. run para, which has since been succeeded by the CAFGU groups.
PC was dissolved after the Marcos Era due to its propensity to arm thugs and such, though by some's opinion CAFGU is not much different, and then there is the SS-CAFGU, which I am getting into perhaps but more on that later.
Laddie was stationed on western Mindanao, in the heartland of the Bisaya/illongo vs. Moro (Muslim) wars. He made his reputation by erasing Muslim villages.
Later transferred north to the large island of Samar, which was being raped of its timber by some Illustrado families (Illustrados are the richest segment of the Philippines, many with Spanish blood of some amount or another).
Laddie's sponsor was Danding Conjaungco, a Marco's crony (one of the Rolex 12, as well as the man SAID to be behind Aqcuino's Assasination, owner of San Miguel Beer, etc and so on). Laddie exterminated, or his men did anyway, 2 villages full of NPA sympathisers on Samar but these villages were being monitored by HRW, the Human Rights NGO.
Laddie had to make a settlement with Marcos to avoid the Hague, and disbanded his men, who promptly came with him when he came to the valley. He reformed them, without direct govt. alliance but armed by the govt. Conjaungco had just bought the huge Palm Oil Plantation bordering our lands, that I sometimes talk about. We were in the midst of the NPA First War as we call it, in the mid 80s.
Laddie went famously, to a Newsweek Magazine interview wearing his necklace of human ears, as most did in those days, and some do still today. His men became pure Tad-Tad (Cho-Chop), cannabials and tribal religions mixed with Catholicsm. Tattooing their bodies, wearing their amulets.
Still here of course, they are the force I talked about when the current Govt's Minister came to visit the Plam Oil lands, now owned by a Malaysian consortium, and got a few M16s stuck in his face. Miffed he ran to the Federal Garrison in our village where they laughed as they told him to calm down, they were not doing anything about it. It was bit of ascandal here for awhile but then the NPA Operation I recently talked about took place, with the related attempt on President Arroyo's life at Butuan Airport (by NPA) and so it was eclipsed.
Laddie's daughter, my G-Dmother was mayor, then her brother was, who actually married us in the civil ceremony and was mayor until 2 weeks ago.
Now...Uncle Allan, the man leading the other faction we are feuding with, had his sister-in-law elected! His wife's sister! Now with her new influence she is tampering with the courts which is what we expected when we first found out who had won the elections.
It will come to a head soon, but that is all I can say.
We broke ground on my new outbuildings for my goat farming operation, halfway done already, thereabouts. Using cinderblock and zinc, nothing fancy but sturdy enough. I am trying to pick who I will alow to be the caretaker, the family living on the farm to take control fo day to day, which is how life is here. I have alarge pool of our people to choose.
It is a huge step up socially for whomever is picked. They go from lifting 80 kilo rice sacks 10 hours a day to sttting on a porch and giving orders, so I must pick carefully. As well, the person then ebcomes indebted to me for life and I want a person who is capable in other ways.
Sill puttering around with my Kratom trade, still trying to break into the US Market but not willing to pay the Customs Permit prices they want, only 4 Gs US but too much as I reckon.
My prescribing doctor has died, actually died a few days before my last entry but it slipped my mind. I have enough stockpiled to last a few years, but have already found other sources, not too difficult.
As well, as I said, the country has reintroduced codeine to the market so its attitude about opiates/opioids seems to be easing up so it will be interesting perhaps.
I am now down to 240 mgs of IR oral morphine, 120 per dosage, 12 hours apart.
Been to 4 meetings since last entry, over the CAFGU we are talking about forming, fold it into Laddie's group, but it remains to be seen. For my own part, I am hesistant until I know whether I will remain here for life. It is that serious of a commitment for the danger I place the family in.
Have ordered 2 pistol silencers, 4 AK supressors, and am talking about getting 2 ARs from the man in Danao, the man I mentioned. If I go for the ARs, I will order supressors for them as well. I tried the AR in the 2006 War and I really dug it, my son's Sayeret group was utilising them for atryout, they all loved them. I am waiting for the quote from danao. What is so great is that he charges so far less than even an American supplier!
On my HCV, well next week is the all important 90 day exam for Viral Load which will either have me cured, near cured, or it is off the meds and a failure.
I have had acolourful life either way, and while I do have regrets like anyone, also have had lots more opportunities to see and do things others can only dream about, so I cannot whine if I do not get cured...and cannot whine even if my conditions speeds up so to speak. After all, having had it since the mid 80s at least, who can say I have not been lucky? We will see anyway.
I have to update by Blood and Guts files, as well as My Life, maybe in the next couple of days... All for now.
Apparently property by the train tracks is cheaper than property elsewhere. All the better for me.
Every once in a while, the good winds of spring blow in a certain direction that carries the melody of Freight Trains my way, and I can hear it from my room.
There is little that gets me more excited than the view of a train passing. The graffiti on its cars adds even more spice.
There is little that gets me more relaxed than the sound of a train passing. Its toots only get me lost in a cloud of smoke.
I love trains so much that people think I'm insane.
Such a pitty I live in a continent in which trains are left to rust and rot.
Every once in a while, the good winds of spring blow in a certain direction that carries the melody of Freight Trains my way, and I can hear it from my room.
There is little that gets me more excited than the view of a train passing. The graffiti on its cars adds even more spice.
There is little that gets me more relaxed than the sound of a train passing. Its toots only get me lost in a cloud of smoke.
I love trains so much that people think I'm insane.
Such a pitty I live in a continent in which trains are left to rust and rot.
In this life we lead I always believed that there were two absolutes that can be gained from any situation or experience. Lessons or blessings.
Blessings, it seems, happen out of nowhere, on the fly. They are positive feelings, thoughts, material. Anything that brings a 'feel good' sensation of enlightenment, peace or general pleasantness.
Lessons, are slow in deliverance and cause, at a minimum, feelings of discomfort. At the worst, traumatic life changing pain or other devastating reality.
I always felt and truly believe that both of these things can actually be categorized as blessings but the lessons are the true and hardcore REAL blessings.
So fuck you world. I want more pain. Throw your worst at me, i don't give a fuck. Keep it coming, if I survive your bullshit you will have provided me valuable learning opportunities.
You hurt me and I will learn, grow and become strong.
Someday, after my final lesson has been learned. My scarred body and mind will not be broken but merely marred to remind me of what has been learned.
Someday, I will learn all the things that everyone else already seems to know.
Someday, I will earn the right to die. Hopefully, I will have the honor to die for something or someone.
Keep the lessons coming. I am even more adaptable now that I have no one that needs me. I can take risks. I can disregard my safety. I can be reckless to prove a point.
Yeah, I WILL learn more. Blessings are nice but I require lessons.
Bring me more pain motherfucker.
Blessings, it seems, happen out of nowhere, on the fly. They are positive feelings, thoughts, material. Anything that brings a 'feel good' sensation of enlightenment, peace or general pleasantness.
Lessons, are slow in deliverance and cause, at a minimum, feelings of discomfort. At the worst, traumatic life changing pain or other devastating reality.
I always felt and truly believe that both of these things can actually be categorized as blessings but the lessons are the true and hardcore REAL blessings.
So fuck you world. I want more pain. Throw your worst at me, i don't give a fuck. Keep it coming, if I survive your bullshit you will have provided me valuable learning opportunities.
You hurt me and I will learn, grow and become strong.
Someday, after my final lesson has been learned. My scarred body and mind will not be broken but merely marred to remind me of what has been learned.
Someday, I will learn all the things that everyone else already seems to know.
Someday, I will earn the right to die. Hopefully, I will have the honor to die for something or someone.
Keep the lessons coming. I am even more adaptable now that I have no one that needs me. I can take risks. I can disregard my safety. I can be reckless to prove a point.
Yeah, I WILL learn more. Blessings are nice but I require lessons.
Bring me more pain motherfucker.
Today is Friday, July 23, 2010 and it is now 147AM here in Butuan, Agusan del Norte Province, Mindanao, Philippines.
Recap: 1st day back in Mindanao for my bi-monthly visit to take of financial and social commitments on Mindanao.
This Entry: I have decided to fly back up to Manila, it was OK and all on the ferry but I am a bit haggard and do not feel up to another 1.5 to 3 days moving through several archipelagos. Butuan Airport is nothing worth mentioning. The best airport on the island is in Davao City but that's a 5 hour drive with no checkpoints and there are 11 between San Franz and Davao so...In fact, checkpoints are why I am sitting here 6 hours prior to boarding. I guess you can compare it to Brunei Airport, typically small and over crowded SE Asian airport though this one rarely has a white face in it where as Brunei maybe has half its business through European contractors...or Middle Eastern like my son whose outfit is based there though because he refuses to apply for American citizenship, and because Israeli passports aren't recognised in the Sultunate has to work out of Kota in Sabah State.
The Sultunate Brunei Darsullam sits on Borneo's Northern Coast. Borneo is home to 3 nations: Brunei
Indonesia and Malaysia, the country to which Sabah belongs.
In fact, Malaysia is tricky as well, but since Indonesia is another racist bag of shit, we need to rely on Malaysia.
As I mentioned around Xmas my son just left his mandatory 36 month hitch in the IDF, had taken a short "walkabout" and instead of going back to university decided to make money. I cannot blame him since the bloke, at 22 is making 180K US every 10 months plus great benefits. His job? He works for 2 mates of mine who run a Private Security firm, he's a rifleman on tankers hauling petrol through the Straits. He hops super tankers off of Borneo, as soon as they leave Sultunate waters launches that pick up the Pilots (local men who know the reefs by heart who steer the ships, Captains only really mintor automatic pilots in deep seas, unless there's trouble of course) drop off Security.
My son, like my next youngest son who is protessional as I was, was Golani (Golani Brigade),and qualified on the 50 Caliber via the 50 Cal Sniper Course at Mitkan Adam. His job is to sit lay prone atop the super structure, no spotter but with a spotting scope and basically hang out.
He just finished his 1st 10 month tour, cashed the check already, about 10 years salary in our country, and only had 2 engagements, both pinging them until they broke off and hauled ass.
Somalia gets the news but the Mollucan Straits (I sy plural because of the adjacent straits which are far too numerous to mentioned here) are actually the #1 most pirate infested waters in the world. In fact the piracy extends here to this island though only our west and southern sides, especially off of Zamboanga where there were 3 more kidnappings on the water but I won't bother with all that...
Fuck it, you've convinced me.
One tiny island,Panguturan, in the Sulu chain (Sulu, including Jolo Island is a province of Mindanao though separate islands) saw a mysterious Japanese man kidnapped at 1PM on Friday, July 16th.
The man, 70 year old Katayama Mamaito, had lived on the shithole for near on 5 years, taken a local wife (Don't we all? The dumb fucks that we expats tend to be) and even...converted to Islam! For sure he's a dumb fuck, thinking conversion would protect his sushi-saki-sashimi Baby G-Dzilla killing ass from his "neighbours."
The interesting aspect is not that he is Japanese, we have a fair amount of the Nips, I mean slants, I mean I AM FUCKING JOKING, calm down MOD! No, the interesting aspect isnt even that he lived in Sulu! What is interesting is that when the PNP (Ph. National Police) searched his home they found that he had dual identities.
Its very common actually, Chinese who control most business sectors in the Philippines, even when their roots extend back centuries, along with East Indians who dominate the informal consumer credit sector (LOANSHARKING) have 2 names. Peter Go, for example, a kidnapping victim on Sulu's Jolo Island, was actually named Xi Li Wu Yun Shing (one certainly understands why old Peter made the choice he did).
What was "interesting" was that he had passport in that other name, and both names were Japanese (as opposed to "easier to understannd version for locals"). Also noteworth was that this 2nd passport had a younger age.
Petester is one of those guys that is always hounded by the worst possible luck. He joined 3 members of his extended family already in Jolo and opened an appliance outlet, sinking all his life savings into the venture.
He was kidnapped 3 weeks later. His kidnappers immediately contacted the family and began trying to negotiate. His family hung up, shuttered their appliance business and hauled ass to China.
I guess that I really shouldn't colour him "unlucky," because the normal recourse for someone without family or very close friends to ransom them is almost always decapitated.
Pete escaped on July 5th, having been held since December of 2008. Guess what happened next though? I swear this shit is true, you can Google him if you want!
When he was released? He was charged with over staying his Tourist Visa, because he was with his captors when it expired. He was jailed for overstaying his fucken visa!
Mabuhay! Welcome to the Land of Smiles...and YES! We do take Dollars!
I will have to finish the post in my next entry.
Recap: 1st day back in Mindanao for my bi-monthly visit to take of financial and social commitments on Mindanao.
This Entry: I have decided to fly back up to Manila, it was OK and all on the ferry but I am a bit haggard and do not feel up to another 1.5 to 3 days moving through several archipelagos. Butuan Airport is nothing worth mentioning. The best airport on the island is in Davao City but that's a 5 hour drive with no checkpoints and there are 11 between San Franz and Davao so...In fact, checkpoints are why I am sitting here 6 hours prior to boarding. I guess you can compare it to Brunei Airport, typically small and over crowded SE Asian airport though this one rarely has a white face in it where as Brunei maybe has half its business through European contractors...or Middle Eastern like my son whose outfit is based there though because he refuses to apply for American citizenship, and because Israeli passports aren't recognised in the Sultunate has to work out of Kota in Sabah State.
The Sultunate Brunei Darsullam sits on Borneo's Northern Coast. Borneo is home to 3 nations: Brunei
Indonesia and Malaysia, the country to which Sabah belongs.
In fact, Malaysia is tricky as well, but since Indonesia is another racist bag of shit, we need to rely on Malaysia.
As I mentioned around Xmas my son just left his mandatory 36 month hitch in the IDF, had taken a short "walkabout" and instead of going back to university decided to make money. I cannot blame him since the bloke, at 22 is making 180K US every 10 months plus great benefits. His job? He works for 2 mates of mine who run a Private Security firm, he's a rifleman on tankers hauling petrol through the Straits. He hops super tankers off of Borneo, as soon as they leave Sultunate waters launches that pick up the Pilots (local men who know the reefs by heart who steer the ships, Captains only really mintor automatic pilots in deep seas, unless there's trouble of course) drop off Security.
My son, like my next youngest son who is protessional as I was, was Golani (Golani Brigade),and qualified on the 50 Caliber via the 50 Cal Sniper Course at Mitkan Adam. His job is to sit lay prone atop the super structure, no spotter but with a spotting scope and basically hang out.
He just finished his 1st 10 month tour, cashed the check already, about 10 years salary in our country, and only had 2 engagements, both pinging them until they broke off and hauled ass.
Somalia gets the news but the Mollucan Straits (I sy plural because of the adjacent straits which are far too numerous to mentioned here) are actually the #1 most pirate infested waters in the world. In fact the piracy extends here to this island though only our west and southern sides, especially off of Zamboanga where there were 3 more kidnappings on the water but I won't bother with all that...
Fuck it, you've convinced me.
One tiny island,Panguturan, in the Sulu chain (Sulu, including Jolo Island is a province of Mindanao though separate islands) saw a mysterious Japanese man kidnapped at 1PM on Friday, July 16th.
The man, 70 year old Katayama Mamaito, had lived on the shithole for near on 5 years, taken a local wife (Don't we all? The dumb fucks that we expats tend to be) and even...converted to Islam! For sure he's a dumb fuck, thinking conversion would protect his sushi-saki-sashimi Baby G-Dzilla killing ass from his "neighbours."
The interesting aspect is not that he is Japanese, we have a fair amount of the Nips, I mean slants, I mean I AM FUCKING JOKING, calm down MOD! No, the interesting aspect isnt even that he lived in Sulu! What is interesting is that when the PNP (Ph. National Police) searched his home they found that he had dual identities.
Its very common actually, Chinese who control most business sectors in the Philippines, even when their roots extend back centuries, along with East Indians who dominate the informal consumer credit sector (LOANSHARKING) have 2 names. Peter Go, for example, a kidnapping victim on Sulu's Jolo Island, was actually named Xi Li Wu Yun Shing (one certainly understands why old Peter made the choice he did).
What was "interesting" was that he had passport in that other name, and both names were Japanese (as opposed to "easier to understannd version for locals"). Also noteworth was that this 2nd passport had a younger age.
Petester is one of those guys that is always hounded by the worst possible luck. He joined 3 members of his extended family already in Jolo and opened an appliance outlet, sinking all his life savings into the venture.
He was kidnapped 3 weeks later. His kidnappers immediately contacted the family and began trying to negotiate. His family hung up, shuttered their appliance business and hauled ass to China.
I guess that I really shouldn't colour him "unlucky," because the normal recourse for someone without family or very close friends to ransom them is almost always decapitated.
Pete escaped on July 5th, having been held since December of 2008. Guess what happened next though? I swear this shit is true, you can Google him if you want!
When he was released? He was charged with over staying his Tourist Visa, because he was with his captors when it expired. He was jailed for overstaying his fucken visa!
Mabuhay! Welcome to the Land of Smiles...and YES! We do take Dollars!
I will have to finish the post in my next entry.
Whenever I hear System Of A Down's "Prison Song" I always think of a friend of mine who's now serving time in prison after the cops raided his house and found materials to manufacture methamphetamine. Mostly for his own personal use.
"They're tryin' to build a prison
They're tryin' to build a prison
Following the rights movements
You clamped on with your iron fists
Drugs became conveniently
Available for all the kids
Following the rights movements
You clamped on with your iron fists
Drugs became conveniently
Available for all the kids
Oh, I buy my crack, my smack, my bitch
Right here in Hollywood
Nearly two million Americans are incarcerated in the prison system
Prison system of the U.S.
They're tryin' to build a prison
They're tryin' to build a prison
They're tryin' to build a prison
They're tryin' to build a prison
For you and me to live in
Another prison system
Another prison system
Another prison system
For you and me
Minor drug offenders fill your prisons
You don't even flinch
All our taxes paying for your wars
Against the new non rich
Minor drug offenders fill your prisons
You don't even flinch
All our taxes paying for your wars
Against the new non rich
Oh, I buy my crack, my smack, my bitch
Right here in Hollywood
The percentage of Americans in the prison system
Prison system has doubled since 1985
They're tryin' to build a prison
They're tryin' to build a prison
They're tryin' to build a prison
They're tryin' to build a prison
For you and me to live in
Another prison system
Another prison system
Another prison system
For you and me
Who for?
Who for?
Who for?
You and I
They're tryin' to build a prison
They're tryin' to build a prison
They're tryin' to build a prison
For you and me
Oh baby you and me
Why?
All research and successful drug policy shows
That treatment should be increased
Why?
And law enforcement decreased
While abolishing mandatory minimum sentences
Why?
All research and successful drug policy shows
That treatment should be increased
Why?
And law enforcement decreased
While abolishing mandatory minimum sentences
Utilizing drugs to pay for secret wars around the world
Drugs are now your global policy
Now you police the globe
Oh, I buy my crack, my smack, my bitch
Right here in Hollywood
Drug money is used to rig elections
And train brutal corporate sponsored
Dictators around the world
They're tryin' to build a prison
They're tryin' to build a prison
They're tryin' to build a prison
They're tryin' to build a prison
For you and me to live in
Another prison system
Another prison system
Another prison system
For you and me
Who for?
Who for?
Who for?
You and I
They're tryin' to build a prison
They're tryin' to build a prison
They're tryin' to build a prison
For you and me
Oh baby you and me"
"They're tryin' to build a prison
They're tryin' to build a prison
Following the rights movements
You clamped on with your iron fists
Drugs became conveniently
Available for all the kids
Following the rights movements
You clamped on with your iron fists
Drugs became conveniently
Available for all the kids
Oh, I buy my crack, my smack, my bitch
Right here in Hollywood
Nearly two million Americans are incarcerated in the prison system
Prison system of the U.S.
They're tryin' to build a prison
They're tryin' to build a prison
They're tryin' to build a prison
They're tryin' to build a prison
For you and me to live in
Another prison system
Another prison system
Another prison system
For you and me
Minor drug offenders fill your prisons
You don't even flinch
All our taxes paying for your wars
Against the new non rich
Minor drug offenders fill your prisons
You don't even flinch
All our taxes paying for your wars
Against the new non rich
Oh, I buy my crack, my smack, my bitch
Right here in Hollywood
The percentage of Americans in the prison system
Prison system has doubled since 1985
They're tryin' to build a prison
They're tryin' to build a prison
They're tryin' to build a prison
They're tryin' to build a prison
For you and me to live in
Another prison system
Another prison system
Another prison system
For you and me
Who for?
Who for?
Who for?
You and I
They're tryin' to build a prison
They're tryin' to build a prison
They're tryin' to build a prison
For you and me
Oh baby you and me
Why?
All research and successful drug policy shows
That treatment should be increased
Why?
And law enforcement decreased
While abolishing mandatory minimum sentences
Why?
All research and successful drug policy shows
That treatment should be increased
Why?
And law enforcement decreased
While abolishing mandatory minimum sentences
Utilizing drugs to pay for secret wars around the world
Drugs are now your global policy
Now you police the globe
Oh, I buy my crack, my smack, my bitch
Right here in Hollywood
Drug money is used to rig elections
And train brutal corporate sponsored
Dictators around the world
They're tryin' to build a prison
They're tryin' to build a prison
They're tryin' to build a prison
They're tryin' to build a prison
For you and me to live in
Another prison system
Another prison system
Another prison system
For you and me
Who for?
Who for?
Who for?
You and I
They're tryin' to build a prison
They're tryin' to build a prison
They're tryin' to build a prison
For you and me
Oh baby you and me"
He was JUST here. My best friend. The dude who was always happy to see me. The dude who never judged me. He was always so laid back and happy and had a 'roll-with-it' attitude. I loved watching him laugh, play and smile.
He died at peace, I think. He was acting funny that night. He was walking with his back arched and was having difficulty laying or sitting down. I thought it was just his feet and legs acting up again.
Eventually, he lay down on the floor with a thud (his joints are painful despite the pills I give him). I lay down beside him, petting and kissing him on his head. He was panting but it was hot despite the AC.
I called an emergency vet to see if they could give me some input but they couldn't diagnose over the phone. Understandable but I didn't have the money to bring him in. I would have had the loot but I had previously made the selfish decision to start getting high again. Getting high required every penny I had and there was nothing left from my last run.
He seemed fine. Uncomfortable but he didn't appear to be DYING.
It was around 9PM and kissed him on the head and performed the standard verbal ritual, 'You ready to go sleepies, baby? its bedtime for Shaman and daddy, ready for bed?'
I went to bed and woke up at 12:04 am. I went to check on my boy and something wasn't right. He was in the same position I left him, he wasn't moving/breathing, his stomach was distended and he was stiff.
I miss you my friend. YOU WERE JUST HERE. I can't stop crying and I can't imagine what life will be like now. YOU WERE IMPORTANT TO ME. You kept me alive. You put a REAL smile on my face, often.
I'd like to say that I'll be with you shortly but that isn't for me to decide. We'll see. You were my buffer to making stupid decisions. I would always think, 'if this kills me, what about Shaman?'. I have no reason not to be careless now. I have no reason to give a fuck.
More evidence of selfishness revealed.
I miss you Shaman. I was a lucky dude to have you in my life and to develop the bond that we had.
This is going to be tough for a while.
bestest friends
He died at peace, I think. He was acting funny that night. He was walking with his back arched and was having difficulty laying or sitting down. I thought it was just his feet and legs acting up again.
Eventually, he lay down on the floor with a thud (his joints are painful despite the pills I give him). I lay down beside him, petting and kissing him on his head. He was panting but it was hot despite the AC.
I called an emergency vet to see if they could give me some input but they couldn't diagnose over the phone. Understandable but I didn't have the money to bring him in. I would have had the loot but I had previously made the selfish decision to start getting high again. Getting high required every penny I had and there was nothing left from my last run.
He seemed fine. Uncomfortable but he didn't appear to be DYING.
It was around 9PM and kissed him on the head and performed the standard verbal ritual, 'You ready to go sleepies, baby? its bedtime for Shaman and daddy, ready for bed?'
I went to bed and woke up at 12:04 am. I went to check on my boy and something wasn't right. He was in the same position I left him, he wasn't moving/breathing, his stomach was distended and he was stiff.
I miss you my friend. YOU WERE JUST HERE. I can't stop crying and I can't imagine what life will be like now. YOU WERE IMPORTANT TO ME. You kept me alive. You put a REAL smile on my face, often.
I'd like to say that I'll be with you shortly but that isn't for me to decide. We'll see. You were my buffer to making stupid decisions. I would always think, 'if this kills me, what about Shaman?'. I have no reason not to be careless now. I have no reason to give a fuck.
More evidence of selfishness revealed.
I miss you Shaman. I was a lucky dude to have you in my life and to develop the bond that we had.
This is going to be tough for a while.
bestest friends
Today is Monday, March 1st, 2010 and it is now 1208 AM here in Brooklyn, NYC, USA.
OK, so as I said I had given Jackie my password to the account I use for communication with Rizza and her family. I already discussed the result of that piece of genius...Jackie and I discussed this and she swore she would never go back to that account.
Hahahaaha, sigh...She woke up 3 hours ago and frantically tried to get in touch with me. "Rachi, why is Rizza saying this?" Rizza, cognisant that Jackie is lurking in that account is planting nonsense there about Rizza and I reuniting...Well Rizza got what she wanted (partially).
Jackie frantically contacted me after waking up a couple of hours ago (13 hour time difference between Mindanao and NYC).
Jackie: "What does this mean? You are getting back with Rizza?"
Rachamim: "Baby, if G-D forbid you left me today I would still never look at that girl.I was done with her long before we touched."
Jackie: "But why does she say THIS?"
Rachamim: "Baby, if you are trying to win me back, and you know my woman has this password...is it making sense yet?"
Jackie:"Well she is wrong! I will never leave you! She is foolish to think such a thing."
Rachamim:"Yes my love, she truly is foolish. Tell me, why did you go back into that ID after swearing to leave it alone?"
Jackie: "I can't help it."
Hmmmmmmm...hmmmmm...not a good sign I reckon.
Rachamim: "OK baby, I will help you. I am changing the password. Now you will not have to worry about what Rizza says or does."
Jackie: "YES, change it!!!"
I do suppose I expect too much of her. Me? I am ice cold, able to control myself to a very high degree.I suppose that I am at fault for giving her that ID and expecting her NOT to be curious.
Rizza has been texting me, talking about returning home to San Franz, to the compound. I explained to her that it will not happen, we will never be together again.
Rizza: "But Rachi, daddy, I am your wife!"
Rachamim: "Rizza, marriage is NOT a piece of paper. If Filipinos used toilet paper I would tell you what you could do with our Marriage Certificate."
Rizza: "Hehehehe, daddy, you always so funny!"
Rachamim: "Are you fucken crazy? Seriously, do you have a mental illness?"
Rizza: "No, I am fine. Why do you ask?"
(As I tell my cousin to suit up I want to spar as soon as I am finished) Rachamim: "Rizza, look, I need you to listen to me very carefully, please."
Rizza: "OK."
Rachamim:"Rizza, I truly hope you find the happiness that all people deserve. Me? I found mine. I will not give it up. Not for anything, and this will not change. You must make your life.I told you I am getting a Get (Jewish Divorce) and will file a civil divorce as well. You must accept this, this is not a game."
Rizza: "Rachi, I want that we should go back to Switzerland. We liked it there. We will be happy again."
(Ready to burst a blood vessel) Rachamim: "Rizza...(sigh), look, this has to stop? I love her, not you..."
Rizza: "But I am your wife, she is not. She is married to her husband. You must recognise that you are tied to me."
Rachamim: "How the fuck you can even say that as you live in that man's house? Have you no shame? Look what you have done to your bros and your baby sister. To your parents! You did this, not me, no matter what issues you may have had you did not have to fuck another man! Then, while you sleep in his house you preach to me about the responsibilities of marriage? Shame, shame on you!"
Rizza: "Daddy, can you send me a Tanach (Jewish Bible) and some chocolates?"
***Hahahahahaha, I swear this is real, I am not bullshitting!***
Rachamim: "Rizza, ask your BF to buy you some Filipino chocolates and as for HaTanach? What does Halacha (Jewish Law) say about an Adultress? You recall?"
Rizza: "The penalty is death by stoning?"
Rachamim: "There you go, you are a smart girl. Just live your life, I will send papers to your parents."
Rizza:"But we need to speak clearly about our situation! I will return! I want a chance!"
Rachamim: "Chances ended when I was on chemotherapy (Interferon for Hep-C) and you dogged me out fucking another man. Deal with it."
___________________________
So, Rizza then made some summy EMails, and sent EMails to our ID...The EMails mentioned Rizza and I getting back together, as well as about what I did in 2002 in our 1st separation when I was with the Hakka girl...Jackie, unbeknownst to me cruised my EMail and read all this shit as Rizza knew she would.
Sadly for Rizza, and luckily for me, Jackie actually loves me. In addition, she is not stupid and realises what is happening.
So, my life as I know it...After that maddening exchange of texts with Rizza my cousin and I sparred in the park. "Krav Maga" ("Combat Fighting") is an Israeli martial art and requisite training in the IDF for all "Kravi" ("Combat Soldiers" i.e. "Infantry").
It was developed in the late 1930s by a soldier in the pre-statehood paramilitaries. It is based on Aikkido, Ju-Jiutsu and Judo with a healthy dollop of pre-WWII street-fighting techniques.
In the 70 years since its development it has been perfected to a very high degree. Today all Infantryman go through hellish training in it. You must line up alond the length of a basketball court or parade ground, and the Instructor walks quickly down the line giving 1 or 2 moves on each soldier who must not react.
We officers, sadistic as we are, love to watch as a paltoon of 28 falls like dominoes as the Instructor moves down the line. In today's IDF "beating" recruits is illegal but doing so under the guise of Advanced Training is entirely legal. The strikes are controlled so as to leave no premanant marks or injuries and the rationale is to open up the trainees' minds to the opportunities available within the system.
The next phase consists of Rifle Strikes, 12 moves in 2 sets of 6 strikes that will kill a man within 3 moves (finish all 6 to confirm the kill). Krav Maga is essential because we specialise in CQUC (Close Quarter Urban Combat). If you are in a takedown and those pussy-ass M16A1s jam up as they do a lot in sand and dirt, you need to retain Kill Ability with your Primary (Primary Weapon). We are now changing from M16 to M4 configuration but I wish to hell we brought back the Galil (my Galil, especially my GALATZ were my babies).
Anyway, off to the park. I was steamed over Rizza...I suppose this caused me to give up a couple of points because although I flattened my cousin, as usual, I must have taken some to the ribs.My lower right ribs (bottom 2) are hurting bad to the point when I breathe depply they ache.
My cousin is a fucken Jobnik, an Intel officer, and they only rate 02. Essentially this means a pencil pusher hurt me! Man I am getting old!
On ratings...In the IDF you have different ratings depending upon training. 02 is the lowest, they go through 4.5 weeks total Basic Training as far as combat skills.People have this mental image that Intel is a "sexy" job but the majority of Intel officers are washouts, cannot cope with stress of combat, etc.
I respect AMAN (IDF Intel), just not as fighting men.
An 01 by the way would be a brain damaged or severely unfit recruit and they would get 1 week training and then sent to wash vehichles for a few months, etc.
Officers, junior grade, are at least 08, combat soldier 05, etc. I am 09+. However my Intel Rating is compromised over a smuggling conviction from Lebanon that got me 4 months in an IDF prison (2 kilos of hash inside a MkII (Merkava tank)...but I suppose I will get to that evetually in a "My Life" entry.
My compromised Rating is why I cashiered out in 2007. I could go no further. Anyway, at my age it was prudent to cashier anyway. The IDF is a young man's outfit, our Brigadier Generals are in their early 30s.
Listening to my MP4, "Precious" by Depeche Mode, the Sasha Gargatuan Rmx. Love Depeche and Dave Gahan. Hey, have to up my fellow Jews yeah? And a dopefiend as well? For sure.
OK, so as I said I had given Jackie my password to the account I use for communication with Rizza and her family. I already discussed the result of that piece of genius...Jackie and I discussed this and she swore she would never go back to that account.
Hahahaaha, sigh...She woke up 3 hours ago and frantically tried to get in touch with me. "Rachi, why is Rizza saying this?" Rizza, cognisant that Jackie is lurking in that account is planting nonsense there about Rizza and I reuniting...Well Rizza got what she wanted (partially).
Jackie frantically contacted me after waking up a couple of hours ago (13 hour time difference between Mindanao and NYC).
Jackie: "What does this mean? You are getting back with Rizza?"
Rachamim: "Baby, if G-D forbid you left me today I would still never look at that girl.I was done with her long before we touched."
Jackie: "But why does she say THIS?"
Rachamim: "Baby, if you are trying to win me back, and you know my woman has this password...is it making sense yet?"
Jackie:"Well she is wrong! I will never leave you! She is foolish to think such a thing."
Rachamim:"Yes my love, she truly is foolish. Tell me, why did you go back into that ID after swearing to leave it alone?"
Jackie: "I can't help it."
Hmmmmmmm...hmmmmm...not a good sign I reckon.
Rachamim: "OK baby, I will help you. I am changing the password. Now you will not have to worry about what Rizza says or does."
Jackie: "YES, change it!!!"
I do suppose I expect too much of her. Me? I am ice cold, able to control myself to a very high degree.I suppose that I am at fault for giving her that ID and expecting her NOT to be curious.
Rizza has been texting me, talking about returning home to San Franz, to the compound. I explained to her that it will not happen, we will never be together again.
Rizza: "But Rachi, daddy, I am your wife!"
Rachamim: "Rizza, marriage is NOT a piece of paper. If Filipinos used toilet paper I would tell you what you could do with our Marriage Certificate."
Rizza: "Hehehehe, daddy, you always so funny!"
Rachamim: "Are you fucken crazy? Seriously, do you have a mental illness?"
Rizza: "No, I am fine. Why do you ask?"
(As I tell my cousin to suit up I want to spar as soon as I am finished) Rachamim: "Rizza, look, I need you to listen to me very carefully, please."
Rizza: "OK."
Rachamim:"Rizza, I truly hope you find the happiness that all people deserve. Me? I found mine. I will not give it up. Not for anything, and this will not change. You must make your life.I told you I am getting a Get (Jewish Divorce) and will file a civil divorce as well. You must accept this, this is not a game."
Rizza: "Rachi, I want that we should go back to Switzerland. We liked it there. We will be happy again."
(Ready to burst a blood vessel) Rachamim: "Rizza...(sigh), look, this has to stop? I love her, not you..."
Rizza: "But I am your wife, she is not. She is married to her husband. You must recognise that you are tied to me."
Rachamim: "How the fuck you can even say that as you live in that man's house? Have you no shame? Look what you have done to your bros and your baby sister. To your parents! You did this, not me, no matter what issues you may have had you did not have to fuck another man! Then, while you sleep in his house you preach to me about the responsibilities of marriage? Shame, shame on you!"
Rizza: "Daddy, can you send me a Tanach (Jewish Bible) and some chocolates?"
***Hahahahahaha, I swear this is real, I am not bullshitting!***
Rachamim: "Rizza, ask your BF to buy you some Filipino chocolates and as for HaTanach? What does Halacha (Jewish Law) say about an Adultress? You recall?"
Rizza: "The penalty is death by stoning?"
Rachamim: "There you go, you are a smart girl. Just live your life, I will send papers to your parents."
Rizza:"But we need to speak clearly about our situation! I will return! I want a chance!"
Rachamim: "Chances ended when I was on chemotherapy (Interferon for Hep-C) and you dogged me out fucking another man. Deal with it."
___________________________
So, Rizza then made some summy EMails, and sent EMails to our ID...The EMails mentioned Rizza and I getting back together, as well as about what I did in 2002 in our 1st separation when I was with the Hakka girl...Jackie, unbeknownst to me cruised my EMail and read all this shit as Rizza knew she would.
Sadly for Rizza, and luckily for me, Jackie actually loves me. In addition, she is not stupid and realises what is happening.
So, my life as I know it...After that maddening exchange of texts with Rizza my cousin and I sparred in the park. "Krav Maga" ("Combat Fighting") is an Israeli martial art and requisite training in the IDF for all "Kravi" ("Combat Soldiers" i.e. "Infantry").
It was developed in the late 1930s by a soldier in the pre-statehood paramilitaries. It is based on Aikkido, Ju-Jiutsu and Judo with a healthy dollop of pre-WWII street-fighting techniques.
In the 70 years since its development it has been perfected to a very high degree. Today all Infantryman go through hellish training in it. You must line up alond the length of a basketball court or parade ground, and the Instructor walks quickly down the line giving 1 or 2 moves on each soldier who must not react.
We officers, sadistic as we are, love to watch as a paltoon of 28 falls like dominoes as the Instructor moves down the line. In today's IDF "beating" recruits is illegal but doing so under the guise of Advanced Training is entirely legal. The strikes are controlled so as to leave no premanant marks or injuries and the rationale is to open up the trainees' minds to the opportunities available within the system.
The next phase consists of Rifle Strikes, 12 moves in 2 sets of 6 strikes that will kill a man within 3 moves (finish all 6 to confirm the kill). Krav Maga is essential because we specialise in CQUC (Close Quarter Urban Combat). If you are in a takedown and those pussy-ass M16A1s jam up as they do a lot in sand and dirt, you need to retain Kill Ability with your Primary (Primary Weapon). We are now changing from M16 to M4 configuration but I wish to hell we brought back the Galil (my Galil, especially my GALATZ were my babies).
Anyway, off to the park. I was steamed over Rizza...I suppose this caused me to give up a couple of points because although I flattened my cousin, as usual, I must have taken some to the ribs.My lower right ribs (bottom 2) are hurting bad to the point when I breathe depply they ache.
My cousin is a fucken Jobnik, an Intel officer, and they only rate 02. Essentially this means a pencil pusher hurt me! Man I am getting old!
On ratings...In the IDF you have different ratings depending upon training. 02 is the lowest, they go through 4.5 weeks total Basic Training as far as combat skills.People have this mental image that Intel is a "sexy" job but the majority of Intel officers are washouts, cannot cope with stress of combat, etc.
I respect AMAN (IDF Intel), just not as fighting men.
An 01 by the way would be a brain damaged or severely unfit recruit and they would get 1 week training and then sent to wash vehichles for a few months, etc.
Officers, junior grade, are at least 08, combat soldier 05, etc. I am 09+. However my Intel Rating is compromised over a smuggling conviction from Lebanon that got me 4 months in an IDF prison (2 kilos of hash inside a MkII (Merkava tank)...but I suppose I will get to that evetually in a "My Life" entry.
My compromised Rating is why I cashiered out in 2007. I could go no further. Anyway, at my age it was prudent to cashier anyway. The IDF is a young man's outfit, our Brigadier Generals are in their early 30s.
Listening to my MP4, "Precious" by Depeche Mode, the Sasha Gargatuan Rmx. Love Depeche and Dave Gahan. Hey, have to up my fellow Jews yeah? And a dopefiend as well? For sure.
Tales of Misogyny
I need to vent here. I've created an entire subcategory for my blog in tribute to the talented but underappreciated mis-ogynistic/-anthropic writer Patricia Highsmith. I need to deal with long-suppressed emotions and memories. I'm going to rant and rave, and I hope I don't offend anyone. The first rant is the most recent.
Beds
Last night, I got in trouble for getting into bed the wrong way. I entered the bed by climbing over its foot. This seemed like a logical way to get into bed for several reasons. My side of the bed is about 2 feet from the wall. Normally, I could walk up to the middle of the bed, pull down a corner of the covers and sheet, and enter from there. But recently, the space between the bed and wall has become cluttered on my side. There is now a chair filling most of the space there. I didnt' put it there. Surrounding the chair and occupying the remaining space between the wall and my side of the bed is my gf's laptop among heaps of books and laundry. (Some is of the books and some of my laundry are mine, I know.) Indeed, I had to climb over the foot of the bed to enter.
The bed frame at the foot of the bed is severla inches higher than the level of the mattress/sheets/blankets. After climbing onto the bed, I crawled up the lenght of thhe bed to the pillow, which is where the entrance of the sheet/blankets is located. So I squatted at the pillow, lifted the sheet and blankets from the mattress, and scooted under. A____ became angry and scolded me, and told me how uncouth I am for getting in bed this way. This hurt my feelings. I have slept on the floor (or ground) most of my life and am still not used to sleeping in beds.
So I haven't really been exposed to the rules of bed-etiquette. Since I've been dating A_, she's refused to allow me to set up my sleeping palette (a camping mat for softness and a sheet and blankets (she called it a "rat's nest" when she first saw it.) on the floor, much less sleep in it, and has insisted that I sleep in her bed with her. I, on the other hand, prefer that we both sleep on the floor in my cozy "rat's nest." Her bed (and beds in general) is too soft. My body sinks and twists in on itslef. The softness of the bed causes me to "V" down into it so my midsection is bend at an unnatutal angle. This puts pressure on my intenal organs and makes my shoulders terrible sore. Sometiems this causes me intense pain (strain in back, neck, shoulder, arm, hip, leg, stomach, etc.) that lasts throughout the next day(s). I don'r know whhat to do other than get used to it and get in the bed the way she wants me to.
I need to vent here. I've created an entire subcategory for my blog in tribute to the talented but underappreciated mis-ogynistic/-anthropic writer Patricia Highsmith. I need to deal with long-suppressed emotions and memories. I'm going to rant and rave, and I hope I don't offend anyone. The first rant is the most recent.
Beds
Last night, I got in trouble for getting into bed the wrong way. I entered the bed by climbing over its foot. This seemed like a logical way to get into bed for several reasons. My side of the bed is about 2 feet from the wall. Normally, I could walk up to the middle of the bed, pull down a corner of the covers and sheet, and enter from there. But recently, the space between the bed and wall has become cluttered on my side. There is now a chair filling most of the space there. I didnt' put it there. Surrounding the chair and occupying the remaining space between the wall and my side of the bed is my gf's laptop among heaps of books and laundry. (Some is of the books and some of my laundry are mine, I know.) Indeed, I had to climb over the foot of the bed to enter.
The bed frame at the foot of the bed is severla inches higher than the level of the mattress/sheets/blankets. After climbing onto the bed, I crawled up the lenght of thhe bed to the pillow, which is where the entrance of the sheet/blankets is located. So I squatted at the pillow, lifted the sheet and blankets from the mattress, and scooted under. A____ became angry and scolded me, and told me how uncouth I am for getting in bed this way. This hurt my feelings. I have slept on the floor (or ground) most of my life and am still not used to sleeping in beds.
So I haven't really been exposed to the rules of bed-etiquette. Since I've been dating A_, she's refused to allow me to set up my sleeping palette (a camping mat for softness and a sheet and blankets (she called it a "rat's nest" when she first saw it.) on the floor, much less sleep in it, and has insisted that I sleep in her bed with her. I, on the other hand, prefer that we both sleep on the floor in my cozy "rat's nest." Her bed (and beds in general) is too soft. My body sinks and twists in on itslef. The softness of the bed causes me to "V" down into it so my midsection is bend at an unnatutal angle. This puts pressure on my intenal organs and makes my shoulders terrible sore. Sometiems this causes me intense pain (strain in back, neck, shoulder, arm, hip, leg, stomach, etc.) that lasts throughout the next day(s). I don'r know whhat to do other than get used to it and get in the bed the way she wants me to.
Well, the ex-girlfriend who I posted about in a few of my entries sent me a letter she had to write for school. The letter was to be a letter saying goodbye to someone or something in her life, and she chose me. This letter does a great job of showing what a HUGE fucking scumbag I was, and I am so happy that I can not relate to that ugly person I turned into. I am sorry I put her through the things I did too, but without any further hesitation, the letter of death:
Ouch, right? I can’t say she’s lying either besides a few things. The thing about me getting mad that she was dancing with other guys at the dinner dance, I truly didn’t care that she was. I told her I wasn’t going to dance so if she wanted to dance, I wouldn’t stop her. But most of it is true. I treated her like shit and I’m sorry that she didn’t get to see the real me. The version of me that is NOT plagued by drug addiction and insecurity.
I also have a letter I wrote directed to heroin. It’s basically the same thing that I posted above from my ex but it’s written by me and directed at heroin. I’ll see if I can dig that up and post it.
-legz
Dear David,
For about a year and six months you were my everything and it’s sad to say that that wasn’t always a good thing, nor was it always out of love. At times I feel like it was out of sympathy, fear, and not knowing any better. When we met, you started out as your average, nice guy but as the months went on you became something different, maybe then at the beginning of our relationship I should have just said that this was it, that you needed help that I was unable to give you but I thought that you’d change maybe on your own, out of love for me, or with my help. That time of change never came. Your heroin addiction took over your entire life and slowly became my burden as well. I began to wrongfully think that your addiction was my fault and my problem to deal with. I will admit I enabled you by lending you money that I knew was going to the wrong things. I think back and my reasoning at the time was so ridiculous. At the time I was scared that if the money wasn’t coming from me you’d steal from your family or other places and that isn’t and wasn’t be problem if you did. I was scared that if you did do something like that that my parents would somehow find out and that I’d get in trouble.
Your addiction not only hurt me financially but also mentally. I can honestly say that I lost numerous hours of sleep over it. What should have been incredibly exciting moments of my life became mundane and horrible for me. Let’s start at the first event that should’ve been enough to realize you were not meant for me, my senior prom. You refused to dance with me, you sat there high and everyone knew it, you got mad when I danced with other people, I was the girl who sat in the bathroom crying about the horrible time she was having. Surprisingly you didn’t ruin my senior weekend, but that’s because you didn’t come for the entire thing. Now, let’s fast forward to mid July when I went on vacation and you made me give you some of my spending money because you knew I wouldn’t be home to give you anything. And then when I got home it was my 18th birthday, you didn’t have anything for me. And I know you’ll say how materialistic of me that is to say but my birthday is a major thing for me and that could’ve been one surprise since you never gave me anything in those months we were dating before that. The rest of summer managed to go off without a hitch, until I moved into my dorm, something I was incredibly excited about… until I realized that I wasn’t gaining freedom but even more of short leash from you. The first night you wouldn’t let me go out with my roommates you claimed they were “sluts” and said that you didn’t want me out drinking and partying with them, but it was my freshman year, it was my time to do what I wanted even my roommates who barely knew you said I was far too good for you. The entire fall semester I did nothing fun. You demanded that every Thursday I spend the night at your house and every Friday to Sunday you’d stay at my dorm… what kind of fun is that? We did nothing. You did drugs and I sat there and watched you in your dazed out state. Maybe that day you got arrested I should have just left you there and called it quits once and for all, I can’t help but be pissed at myself for being so stupid and thinking you’d get better. That whole semester I saw no one. I didn’t hang out with anyone from school I didn’t see my friends from town I was always with you and when I wasn’t I was given a guilt trip. Christmas vacation came, I honestly don’t remember really seeing my friends then either. I do remember buying you an expensive gift and lending you the money to buy a gift for me. I really would have been better off being completely alone.
When I went back to school for spring term I promised my roommates things would change, but you didn’t even give me a chance to. You ruined my relationship fully with my roommates to the point where I moved out of my dorm and was embarrassed to be seen by any of them. I was embarrassed not only of you but because they saw how stupid I was for staying with you. I continued to be your crutch for months after that, and I don’t know if you realize but by the time spring term ended I didn’t see myself as your girlfriend. I was going through the motions because I loved your family and I figured it would be less of a head ache to just stay with you. But the night before you went to rehab and you flipped on me and called me every nasty name in the book I couldn’t deal with it which is why as soon as you left I knew that nothing was ever happening between us again, your stepmom asked me to lie and seem like I wanted you to get better so we could be together because everyone knew that was the only thing that would keep you in treatment which is the only reason I kept any interest. I thought it would give me a chance at a regular teenage life but of course you screwed that up and got kicked out, but I was too far along in realizing that I mean more to myself, my friends, and my family to ever get back with you.
To this day you still attempt to speak to me and I’m sorry but I don’t know if that’s something I could do again because I don’t think it’s not worth people thinking I have no respect or sense of worth for myself by being associated with you. And I hope you don’t honestly think that the mean words you say to me when I ignore you have any effect on me, I know that deep down you’re just trying to feel better about yourself. You’re the one who always said I could do better than you, that is the only time I should’ve listened to what you had to say. I have moved on, I will not go back to the empty shell that you made me. I will never relive another day with someone who makes me feel worthless, like I couldn’t get any better. You robbed me not only of money but of memories and friends that I could have been making if I wasn’t so wrapped up in being worried about you or what you thought of me.
When I think back to those days I think that it would have been much easier to leave you than I thought. If something did come up where my parents found out about your addiction I think they would have been proud of me for leaving you and realizing that your choices were wrong rather than trying to hide and defend them. I would’ve had to deal with you for awhile trying to get me back but I would’ve been away at school having a good time, experiencing what I missed and what I’ll never get back. I know hate is a strong word, but I honestly hate you for that. At least I know that even missing out on the experiences of dorming and now living back at home I will have a more fulfilling life and friends than you will ever have.
With that said I wish you the best, I can say that because I’m a bigger person that you are.
Good Bye,
Kelli
For about a year and six months you were my everything and it’s sad to say that that wasn’t always a good thing, nor was it always out of love. At times I feel like it was out of sympathy, fear, and not knowing any better. When we met, you started out as your average, nice guy but as the months went on you became something different, maybe then at the beginning of our relationship I should have just said that this was it, that you needed help that I was unable to give you but I thought that you’d change maybe on your own, out of love for me, or with my help. That time of change never came. Your heroin addiction took over your entire life and slowly became my burden as well. I began to wrongfully think that your addiction was my fault and my problem to deal with. I will admit I enabled you by lending you money that I knew was going to the wrong things. I think back and my reasoning at the time was so ridiculous. At the time I was scared that if the money wasn’t coming from me you’d steal from your family or other places and that isn’t and wasn’t be problem if you did. I was scared that if you did do something like that that my parents would somehow find out and that I’d get in trouble.
Your addiction not only hurt me financially but also mentally. I can honestly say that I lost numerous hours of sleep over it. What should have been incredibly exciting moments of my life became mundane and horrible for me. Let’s start at the first event that should’ve been enough to realize you were not meant for me, my senior prom. You refused to dance with me, you sat there high and everyone knew it, you got mad when I danced with other people, I was the girl who sat in the bathroom crying about the horrible time she was having. Surprisingly you didn’t ruin my senior weekend, but that’s because you didn’t come for the entire thing. Now, let’s fast forward to mid July when I went on vacation and you made me give you some of my spending money because you knew I wouldn’t be home to give you anything. And then when I got home it was my 18th birthday, you didn’t have anything for me. And I know you’ll say how materialistic of me that is to say but my birthday is a major thing for me and that could’ve been one surprise since you never gave me anything in those months we were dating before that. The rest of summer managed to go off without a hitch, until I moved into my dorm, something I was incredibly excited about… until I realized that I wasn’t gaining freedom but even more of short leash from you. The first night you wouldn’t let me go out with my roommates you claimed they were “sluts” and said that you didn’t want me out drinking and partying with them, but it was my freshman year, it was my time to do what I wanted even my roommates who barely knew you said I was far too good for you. The entire fall semester I did nothing fun. You demanded that every Thursday I spend the night at your house and every Friday to Sunday you’d stay at my dorm… what kind of fun is that? We did nothing. You did drugs and I sat there and watched you in your dazed out state. Maybe that day you got arrested I should have just left you there and called it quits once and for all, I can’t help but be pissed at myself for being so stupid and thinking you’d get better. That whole semester I saw no one. I didn’t hang out with anyone from school I didn’t see my friends from town I was always with you and when I wasn’t I was given a guilt trip. Christmas vacation came, I honestly don’t remember really seeing my friends then either. I do remember buying you an expensive gift and lending you the money to buy a gift for me. I really would have been better off being completely alone.
When I went back to school for spring term I promised my roommates things would change, but you didn’t even give me a chance to. You ruined my relationship fully with my roommates to the point where I moved out of my dorm and was embarrassed to be seen by any of them. I was embarrassed not only of you but because they saw how stupid I was for staying with you. I continued to be your crutch for months after that, and I don’t know if you realize but by the time spring term ended I didn’t see myself as your girlfriend. I was going through the motions because I loved your family and I figured it would be less of a head ache to just stay with you. But the night before you went to rehab and you flipped on me and called me every nasty name in the book I couldn’t deal with it which is why as soon as you left I knew that nothing was ever happening between us again, your stepmom asked me to lie and seem like I wanted you to get better so we could be together because everyone knew that was the only thing that would keep you in treatment which is the only reason I kept any interest. I thought it would give me a chance at a regular teenage life but of course you screwed that up and got kicked out, but I was too far along in realizing that I mean more to myself, my friends, and my family to ever get back with you.
To this day you still attempt to speak to me and I’m sorry but I don’t know if that’s something I could do again because I don’t think it’s not worth people thinking I have no respect or sense of worth for myself by being associated with you. And I hope you don’t honestly think that the mean words you say to me when I ignore you have any effect on me, I know that deep down you’re just trying to feel better about yourself. You’re the one who always said I could do better than you, that is the only time I should’ve listened to what you had to say. I have moved on, I will not go back to the empty shell that you made me. I will never relive another day with someone who makes me feel worthless, like I couldn’t get any better. You robbed me not only of money but of memories and friends that I could have been making if I wasn’t so wrapped up in being worried about you or what you thought of me.
When I think back to those days I think that it would have been much easier to leave you than I thought. If something did come up where my parents found out about your addiction I think they would have been proud of me for leaving you and realizing that your choices were wrong rather than trying to hide and defend them. I would’ve had to deal with you for awhile trying to get me back but I would’ve been away at school having a good time, experiencing what I missed and what I’ll never get back. I know hate is a strong word, but I honestly hate you for that. At least I know that even missing out on the experiences of dorming and now living back at home I will have a more fulfilling life and friends than you will ever have.
With that said I wish you the best, I can say that because I’m a bigger person that you are.
Good Bye,
Kelli
Ouch, right? I can’t say she’s lying either besides a few things. The thing about me getting mad that she was dancing with other guys at the dinner dance, I truly didn’t care that she was. I told her I wasn’t going to dance so if she wanted to dance, I wouldn’t stop her. But most of it is true. I treated her like shit and I’m sorry that she didn’t get to see the real me. The version of me that is NOT plagued by drug addiction and insecurity.
I also have a letter I wrote directed to heroin. It’s basically the same thing that I posted above from my ex but it’s written by me and directed at heroin. I’ll see if I can dig that up and post it.
-legz
http://www.bluelight.ru/vb/showthread.php?p=7894875#post7894875
They told me to come here.
So I'm posting here :O
http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=101720856&release=102119206
They told me to come here.
So I'm posting here :O
http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=101720856&release=102119206
Psychological dependence, as the medical community now defines it, includes the concept that psychological dependence results, in significant part, from the reinforcement that the administration of a particular drug grants a patient or user.
Reinforcement accumulates.
It has been eight years since I began the daily manipulation of conscious experience via legally prescribed medications (14 years if you include all those without potential for abuse). Since I was fucking ten years old (24 now). But none, not even phenobarbital, has gripped my soul in a manner similar to the opioids as much as have the benzodiazepines. I feel completely trapped - both physically and mentally - by their calm coolness. That addictive feeling of warmth and reprieve after a difficult day dealing with the rest of reality and its sharpened edges. I know the throes of benzodiazepines well - both in moderation and in excess of excess. I was able to kick my IV heroin habit without too much fuss, but sometimes I can't imagine, nor do I want to, a life without benzodiazepines as my daily crutch and nightly chemical hug.
I feel selfish that I feel I need that proverbial "hug" from a chemical - because those I receive from my girlfriend can be fantastic, the must utter bliss. Laying in bed with her - they are times I will cherish forever. But, despite this glowing account of a prosperous relationship, the nip of chemical dependency is never far behind to remind me of the real reasons I spend my days depressed and - not literally - alone. And I certainly do not have enough of those so 'initiated,' as myself, in my life right now to relate my thoughts to.
And, thus, the second Blog entry of my life has been composed and entered for permanent enshrinement.
~ vaya
Reinforcement accumulates.
It has been eight years since I began the daily manipulation of conscious experience via legally prescribed medications (14 years if you include all those without potential for abuse). Since I was fucking ten years old (24 now). But none, not even phenobarbital, has gripped my soul in a manner similar to the opioids as much as have the benzodiazepines. I feel completely trapped - both physically and mentally - by their calm coolness. That addictive feeling of warmth and reprieve after a difficult day dealing with the rest of reality and its sharpened edges. I know the throes of benzodiazepines well - both in moderation and in excess of excess. I was able to kick my IV heroin habit without too much fuss, but sometimes I can't imagine, nor do I want to, a life without benzodiazepines as my daily crutch and nightly chemical hug.
I feel selfish that I feel I need that proverbial "hug" from a chemical - because those I receive from my girlfriend can be fantastic, the must utter bliss. Laying in bed with her - they are times I will cherish forever. But, despite this glowing account of a prosperous relationship, the nip of chemical dependency is never far behind to remind me of the real reasons I spend my days depressed and - not literally - alone. And I certainly do not have enough of those so 'initiated,' as myself, in my life right now to relate my thoughts to.
And, thus, the second Blog entry of my life has been composed and entered for permanent enshrinement.
~ vaya
I screwed up the other day. It has to do with shopping, an activity I detest. So, when it must be done, I try to get the shopping over with quickly. When I shop for groceries or any hygene-related items like toothpaste, floss, deoderant, I like to be in and out of the store within 5 minutes. (Provided I am alone, I can do this; but if I'm with a girl friend, it can be a Living Hell and I'm lucky to be out of there within an hour.)
My (grocery) shopping routine is as follows: On my way home from work or a bike ride, I will pass a store, then ride onto the sidewalk in front of the store or into the parking lot if it has one, lock my bike to a rack or a sign or a meter near the front entrance, go in the store, grab a basket (usually kept on the inside of the electric (big stores have doors equipped with motion detectors that opens them automatically) doorway as you enter) and pick out what I need as I walk along the perimeter of the store. I almost never go into the aisles. Grocery store aisles are not my thing.
So, the other day, it was hot. Hot enough that I could smell my own BO. On my bike ride home, it was so bad that the patchouli wasn't able to mask the stink. I needed to take care of this problem. Upon climbing one long, steep hill, I saw a grocery store off to the left and went in the way I just described for a few groceries and deoderant. After circling the perimenter for some produce and yogurt and beer, I still hadnt' found the deoderant. Unfortunately, the deoderant/toothpaste/baking soda usually lives somewhere in the aisles. I gritted my teeth and went into the aisles and searched until I found the deoderant. I grabbed something in a blue container and on sale. I thought to myself: The pink containers were female deoderant products, this one is blue (men) and on sale. Mission accomplished, and it hasn't been 5 minutes yet.
So, this morning I My gf, Alice, noticed I smelled funny. She read to me the label on my newly purchased deoderant I had just used: "Sweat Pea and Violet." I still didn't grok what she was trying to tell me. She explained to me that's a scent men ought not wear. Next time I'll look for an "Unscented" label.
My (grocery) shopping routine is as follows: On my way home from work or a bike ride, I will pass a store, then ride onto the sidewalk in front of the store or into the parking lot if it has one, lock my bike to a rack or a sign or a meter near the front entrance, go in the store, grab a basket (usually kept on the inside of the electric (big stores have doors equipped with motion detectors that opens them automatically) doorway as you enter) and pick out what I need as I walk along the perimeter of the store. I almost never go into the aisles. Grocery store aisles are not my thing.
So, the other day, it was hot. Hot enough that I could smell my own BO. On my bike ride home, it was so bad that the patchouli wasn't able to mask the stink. I needed to take care of this problem. Upon climbing one long, steep hill, I saw a grocery store off to the left and went in the way I just described for a few groceries and deoderant. After circling the perimenter for some produce and yogurt and beer, I still hadnt' found the deoderant. Unfortunately, the deoderant/toothpaste/baking soda usually lives somewhere in the aisles. I gritted my teeth and went into the aisles and searched until I found the deoderant. I grabbed something in a blue container and on sale. I thought to myself: The pink containers were female deoderant products, this one is blue (men) and on sale. Mission accomplished, and it hasn't been 5 minutes yet.
So, this morning I My gf, Alice, noticed I smelled funny. She read to me the label on my newly purchased deoderant I had just used: "Sweat Pea and Violet." I still didn't grok what she was trying to tell me. She explained to me that's a scent men ought not wear. Next time I'll look for an "Unscented" label.
I've missed this site so much. I miss everyone on here, but I needed to take some time for myself and my life.
My husband and I have gotten back together. But I don't know how it's going to work out. We have so much animosity towards each other. I'm the one who fucked-up last summer, while he was in another country, fighting for us. I deleted all my blogs from then, I was so out of my mind, I can't deal with that. Most of the time I wonder how he can deal with that.
At the beginning of the year, I moved in with my mother. My mom took out some of her retirement money to pay for my legal fees for the divorce. I got a wonderful lawyer, and several months later, was awarded sole custody of our children, and alimony and child support.
Before my husband was due to pay all of this (he also was ordered to pay legal fees and moving fees) he told me that he wanted to get back together.
My mother, who was paying everything for me at the time, was against the idea. But I did it anyways. I loved him so much, my illness (bipolar) was what caused our seperation, not me as a person. So I did it. I had my father drive me down to South Carolina where my husband is working as a drill sergeant.
I'm not sure how this is going to work out.
We have so much distrust for each other.
I wish so much that it was like it was before he deployed to Iraq in October of 2008. It won't ever be like that now. I destroyed so much. But I can hope.
My mother just came to visit, and she took our kids to the beach for a few days. A nice little break for me. My husband has to work (drill sergeants work wayyyy too much for my taste) but I have a little time for quiet for myself. I don't know where this is going to go. I can only hope its up from here.
I love all of you. And I miss you, so much. I'll be on here more..
My husband and I have gotten back together. But I don't know how it's going to work out. We have so much animosity towards each other. I'm the one who fucked-up last summer, while he was in another country, fighting for us. I deleted all my blogs from then, I was so out of my mind, I can't deal with that. Most of the time I wonder how he can deal with that.
At the beginning of the year, I moved in with my mother. My mom took out some of her retirement money to pay for my legal fees for the divorce. I got a wonderful lawyer, and several months later, was awarded sole custody of our children, and alimony and child support.
Before my husband was due to pay all of this (he also was ordered to pay legal fees and moving fees) he told me that he wanted to get back together.
My mother, who was paying everything for me at the time, was against the idea. But I did it anyways. I loved him so much, my illness (bipolar) was what caused our seperation, not me as a person. So I did it. I had my father drive me down to South Carolina where my husband is working as a drill sergeant.
I'm not sure how this is going to work out.
We have so much distrust for each other.
I wish so much that it was like it was before he deployed to Iraq in October of 2008. It won't ever be like that now. I destroyed so much. But I can hope.
My mother just came to visit, and she took our kids to the beach for a few days. A nice little break for me. My husband has to work (drill sergeants work wayyyy too much for my taste) but I have a little time for quiet for myself. I don't know where this is going to go. I can only hope its up from here.
I love all of you. And I miss you, so much. I'll be on here more..
Today is Monday, July 19, 2010 and it is now 1038PM here in San Franz, Mindanao, Philippines.
Recap: Arrived back on Mindanao for a couple of days, to take care of my obligations on the island.
This Entry: This time of year I am usually reminded of a kidnapping that took place here in 1988. I first came here about 1986, and was here on my annual leave from the army in July, 1988. Then, like now, the island was torn apart by insurgency, killing on a massive scale but as is the way of the world, when white people die it catches people's attention.
A particular case from July, 1988 will probablly always be with me but this year it is especially heavy upon my mind. I will always remember it I think because it involved a personal friend of mine, and it is especially on my mind this year because I am now 43, his age when the incident took place.
David Blair Stiffler, like me, is a Jew born in New York City. Like me he married a Filipina, though his wife Elpidia Binuya Stiffler is from Nueva Ecija on Luzon, not a southern tribal like Rizza or Jackie.
Like me, he worked union construction in New York and just like me, he had an anthropology degree (though mine is Ethno-Botany, a sub-discipline).
Though he supported Elpidia and himself with his construction work his passion was, and remins Ethnic Music. He went on to found "Ethnix" which is a well known World Music label so some reading this may have heard of the man.
He and Elpidia had arrived on the island in June and hoped to survey indigenous forms of music on the West Coast, where Moros (Muslim tribes) are dominant.
Taking a house in Marawi City on Lake Lanao, in Lanao del Sur Province they began recording local musicians, mostly gong players. Most indigenous music here relies on gongs, but there are several different types of music.
While recording Maranoan (Maranaw) tribesmen, Muslims, they were kidnapped by ex-MNLF guerillas who had just begun branching out into kidnap for ransom, now a huge business in that part of the island.
Tkane on July 30,1988 the government refused to negotiate and allowed the military free reign. Col.Resos was put in charge and a man after my own heart, he went to the media and speaking directly to the kidnappers said that unless they released the couple post haste he and his men would kidnap the family members of the kidnappers and burn their villages. He then began pounding the village holding them with 155MM Howitzers, which was stupid of course since the couple was still being held there, but that is the mindset of the AFP (Philippine military).
On August 15,1988 the howitzers scared the entire village into fleeing, leaving behind the couple who then walked to freedom, getting a fisherman to row them to a military post on Lake Lanao.
I will not go into details of their captivity, out of respect for the couple but 1 can imagine the lack of respect paid to them, and the horrors suffered.
Luckily the eastern half of the island, my half, isn't rife with kidnapping. The last case was the 6 year old daughter of a local businessman who then promptly ransomed her getting her home a week later.
Before that, around Xmas, Ondoy Perez, a Manobo tribesman who lives next to our cattle farm in Prosperidad, the provincial capitol, took an entire school hostage for 4 days when charged with killing an entire family, after 1 of their members killed 3 of his kinsmen.
Interestingly, Ondoy was a soldier in one of the indigenous paramilitaries I have been posting about.
In the end he got his charges dropped which of course just perpetuates such acts knowing that IF you take hostages you will avoid a pressing situation.
Recap: Arrived back on Mindanao for a couple of days, to take care of my obligations on the island.
This Entry: This time of year I am usually reminded of a kidnapping that took place here in 1988. I first came here about 1986, and was here on my annual leave from the army in July, 1988. Then, like now, the island was torn apart by insurgency, killing on a massive scale but as is the way of the world, when white people die it catches people's attention.
A particular case from July, 1988 will probablly always be with me but this year it is especially heavy upon my mind. I will always remember it I think because it involved a personal friend of mine, and it is especially on my mind this year because I am now 43, his age when the incident took place.
David Blair Stiffler, like me, is a Jew born in New York City. Like me he married a Filipina, though his wife Elpidia Binuya Stiffler is from Nueva Ecija on Luzon, not a southern tribal like Rizza or Jackie.
Like me, he worked union construction in New York and just like me, he had an anthropology degree (though mine is Ethno-Botany, a sub-discipline).
Though he supported Elpidia and himself with his construction work his passion was, and remins Ethnic Music. He went on to found "Ethnix" which is a well known World Music label so some reading this may have heard of the man.
He and Elpidia had arrived on the island in June and hoped to survey indigenous forms of music on the West Coast, where Moros (Muslim tribes) are dominant.
Taking a house in Marawi City on Lake Lanao, in Lanao del Sur Province they began recording local musicians, mostly gong players. Most indigenous music here relies on gongs, but there are several different types of music.
While recording Maranoan (Maranaw) tribesmen, Muslims, they were kidnapped by ex-MNLF guerillas who had just begun branching out into kidnap for ransom, now a huge business in that part of the island.
Tkane on July 30,1988 the government refused to negotiate and allowed the military free reign. Col.Resos was put in charge and a man after my own heart, he went to the media and speaking directly to the kidnappers said that unless they released the couple post haste he and his men would kidnap the family members of the kidnappers and burn their villages. He then began pounding the village holding them with 155MM Howitzers, which was stupid of course since the couple was still being held there, but that is the mindset of the AFP (Philippine military).
On August 15,1988 the howitzers scared the entire village into fleeing, leaving behind the couple who then walked to freedom, getting a fisherman to row them to a military post on Lake Lanao.
I will not go into details of their captivity, out of respect for the couple but 1 can imagine the lack of respect paid to them, and the horrors suffered.
Luckily the eastern half of the island, my half, isn't rife with kidnapping. The last case was the 6 year old daughter of a local businessman who then promptly ransomed her getting her home a week later.
Before that, around Xmas, Ondoy Perez, a Manobo tribesman who lives next to our cattle farm in Prosperidad, the provincial capitol, took an entire school hostage for 4 days when charged with killing an entire family, after 1 of their members killed 3 of his kinsmen.
Interestingly, Ondoy was a soldier in one of the indigenous paramilitaries I have been posting about.
In the end he got his charges dropped which of course just perpetuates such acts knowing that IF you take hostages you will avoid a pressing situation.
Who will i be? These drugs i use make me able to do things i really don't want to do and do them well. Its a motivator.. Other wise i have no motivation.
I can talk to women easily get through the day not a care in the world. Now that ill be clean and sober...Now what? Ill be boring i don't know how to have fun without being lit off something.
Who am i really? Life without drugs... Drugs have been a part of my life since i was 12 or 13, haven't stopped since.
I'm not very pleasant to be around if I'm not loaded.
I'm quite, and plain, don't speak much. Shy.
Why? What do you guys think??
I can talk to women easily get through the day not a care in the world. Now that ill be clean and sober...Now what? Ill be boring i don't know how to have fun without being lit off something.
Who am i really? Life without drugs... Drugs have been a part of my life since i was 12 or 13, haven't stopped since.
I'm not very pleasant to be around if I'm not loaded.
I'm quite, and plain, don't speak much. Shy.
Why? What do you guys think??
so i was reading some of my old blogs, which are only from like a year to six months ago. and god damn things were different. my boyfriend and i since broke up, and he fucking sucks. turns out everyone was right about him. it's insane how you can go from loving someone to hating their guts in a heartbeat. i feel much better without him. and i quit my xanax habit. it took a couple months and the withdrawal was hell. my anxiety still sucks, but whatever.
i feel like a completely different person. i started bartending. i have all my old friends back that i lost during my relationship with fuck face. i'm a little more confident. i've been going to different places, hanging out in philadelphia a lot. i found a sick swimming hole by my house. i throw parties out there all the time, i'm like the mother fucking party planner again. the spot is a half hour hike into the woods. i lost at least 15lbs and look better than ever. things are looking up for sure.
now all i need is another job, pay off my school loans and actually finish my degree. i feel good. i'm glad i bitched and moaned so much previously. because i thought i was depressed today, well damn, i don't feel near as shitty as i did a year ago.
fuck yeah, bluelight.
i feel like a completely different person. i started bartending. i have all my old friends back that i lost during my relationship with fuck face. i'm a little more confident. i've been going to different places, hanging out in philadelphia a lot. i found a sick swimming hole by my house. i throw parties out there all the time, i'm like the mother fucking party planner again. the spot is a half hour hike into the woods. i lost at least 15lbs and look better than ever. things are looking up for sure.
now all i need is another job, pay off my school loans and actually finish my degree. i feel good. i'm glad i bitched and moaned so much previously. because i thought i was depressed today, well damn, i don't feel near as shitty as i did a year ago.
fuck yeah, bluelight.
Ice always hits me when I breathe out. Hold it in for as long as I can, exhale, and I can almost feel the dopamine being squeezed out my brain. I get a smile on my face and at that moment I know for sure why I do this. It's the only time I'm sure of anything. But on this razor edge euphoria sits right next to despair. I don't know how to avoid it but to keep one step ahead of it. But each day it seems to catch up, one step closer each time, until it touches me and it's got me and it's almost taken over, and I don't know what to do but run even faster, because I can't take this...
People told me slow my roll. I'm screaming out fuck that
Imma do just what I want, lookin' ahead no turnin' back
If I fall, if I die, know I lived it to the fullest
If I fall, if I die, know I lived and missed some bullets
I'm on the pursuit of happiness and I know everything that shine ain't always gonna be gold, hey
I'll be fine once I get a hit, I'll be good...
People told me slow my roll. I'm screaming out fuck that
Imma do just what I want, lookin' ahead no turnin' back
If I fall, if I die, know I lived it to the fullest
If I fall, if I die, know I lived and missed some bullets
I'm on the pursuit of happiness and I know everything that shine ain't always gonna be gold, hey
I'll be fine once I get a hit, I'll be good...
I've had feelings of despondancy & despair due to my financial situation. Although, for now, temporarily I have a car, as long as I keep up the payments of $200/mo, I don't dare get my hopes up thinking it is my car until 6 months from now. Fingers crossed nothing happens to fuck things up.
Ok I'm grateful to be able to have a car for now then. Also, work called me this afternoon & asked if I still wanted to work another night every week & I said yes. That's a big deal because the extra night will actually loosen the noose I feel around my neck financially. I won't be depressed, penniless, & broke. It's not that I blow all my money on drugs either, like $40/wk.
The biggest expense is my damn mom, but the only reason I didn't just bail is because of the guilt trip & I'm not the kind of person to just leave someone holding the bag. I swear to Christ though, until today, I had no idea how the hell I was going to be able to afford the car & pay what mom demands too.
Anyway, the main point is it feels like I'm actually being given some help to enable me to help myself & what a relief that is.
Ok I'm grateful to be able to have a car for now then. Also, work called me this afternoon & asked if I still wanted to work another night every week & I said yes. That's a big deal because the extra night will actually loosen the noose I feel around my neck financially. I won't be depressed, penniless, & broke. It's not that I blow all my money on drugs either, like $40/wk.
The biggest expense is my damn mom, but the only reason I didn't just bail is because of the guilt trip & I'm not the kind of person to just leave someone holding the bag. I swear to Christ though, until today, I had no idea how the hell I was going to be able to afford the car & pay what mom demands too.
Anyway, the main point is it feels like I'm actually being given some help to enable me to help myself & what a relief that is.
Started my taper this morning feeling kind of sleepy but not tired. Added some b12 and multivitamin to the mix to help with the tremors.
6AM 2 25.mg Librium - 1 .2 MG Clonidine
2pm i have to take 2 more 25 mg and 1 .2
Im thinking about taking a quarter of a cap to stop these tremors...
6AM 2 25.mg Librium - 1 .2 MG Clonidine
2pm i have to take 2 more 25 mg and 1 .2
Im thinking about taking a quarter of a cap to stop these tremors...
Today is Sunday, July 18, 2010 and it is now 507PM here in San Franz, Mindanao.
Recap: An extra long ferry ride from Manila to Mindanao and was coming close to my destination.
This Entry: Finally arrived in Nasapit, the port that services Butuan, which is itself the major city for NE Mindanao. Our driver Ondoy was there to collect me and off we went.
It was late, said hi, played with Marian and Mayo (ages 10 and 6) and went to lay down. Most people here don't even have electricity, but those that do like Rizza's family don't even use fans. Me? Im a spoiled fuck, a/c all the way so I spend a lot of time in my house when its hot. Rural Mindanao has always had spotty electricity, what the locals call "brown outs," though in the West a "brown out" is when there is a purely localised stoppage. Here? Everything goes off and they use the same term and in fact, I have never heard the term "black out."
English as I have said, is an official language here. It is the language of govt.and of course the courts and yet many speak it only haltingly. Outside of Muslim and Hilltribe areas you can always find a person conversant in it but its a peculiar dialect to be sure.
For example, take food, a favourite subject of mine; "Native Chicken" is the label given to those birds that are closer to their jungle fowl ancestors than to anything a Westerner would recognise. White meat? Guess again mate.
For that you would need a "Broiler." "Broiler" being an American-agri term for a specific type of chicken, here it covers anything with white meat, with a breast.
Need a loo? A bathroom? Here it is a "Comfort Room," in capitals, or "CR" for short. That toilet paper isn't used is an altogether different issue.
I spent my formative years in the Jordanian Valley, living on what had been, just a decade prior, a Jordanian army base. Middle East habits are rudimentary as well though Israel has changed soooooo much in recent years (began changing rapidly in the very late 1980s). I am well used to squatting over a 10cm pipe outlet to do my thing, and not having paper afterwards. As precious as water is there, it having had to have been trucked in, we used it to clean ourselves as do most Asian Cultures. Just that in the ensuing years I have become spoiled, probablly "Americanised" as Israelis call it.
The thing here though? You go to a very modern mall (1st one on Mindanao was built in 2001 and now they are in every large city), you head to the bathroom, and it is as expected, modern.
You sit down feeling somewhat relieved only to find there is no paper. In many parts of Europe you use the bidet (for Americans, it is like a water fountain you squat over to clean those special parts) but in the Philippines, in malls, you have a trough (used on farms to water cattle and horses).
Being insanely private over these things as only SE Asians can be, noone is going to scrub their anus in view of 30 other men. Ergo, there are a large number of Filipinos walking around malls with crust in their ass. Niiiiiiiiiiiiiice.
Speaking of fun things, there is an interesting English word for mesntrual symptoms, "Dysopnea."Probablly a legitmate medical term, albeit one I have never heard of.
In any event, I was awoken before dawn by an earthquake. Mindanao has them about once every 10 days, usually well below 5 on the Richter. This one was 4.2.
Where do you think the safest part of a building is, during an earthquake? Counter-intuitively, it is the door frame! However, earthquakes are usually over so quickly that by the time I rolled out of bed it was over. After shocks are common though but I decided to throw on my shorts, tee and flip flops (rubber sandals) and head out into the compound.
Noone gave a shit, because as I said, it was a small quake and they happen so often that the dogs weren't even spooked.
As I walked into the mists that always accompany day break (I live in a mountain valley) a convoy of logging trucks were rolling down Mangga, the road in front of our compound. It made me very sad.
In 1910, when the US took its first real survey of natural resources here, preparing to rape the land, they stated that the country was 90% virgin forest (jungle). Today the country is down to 11%.
This in turn wreaks havoc on the land and its people. On Feburary 17th, 2006 in Barangay Guinsaugon, in the town of Saint Bernard in Southern Leyte Province, on the island of Leyte a very large hill disintegrated in a mudslide 4 km.long and buried an entire village. This is a nation where such things happen a lot, sad to say. This village was unique though because the mud, over 300 meters deep (nearly 1,000 ft.) buried a public school killing 246 of its 247 students and 7 of its 8 teachers.
I was in NY at the time, working, but I remember the horror I felt...and I don't often have that emotion seeing the things that I have. I also remember it keenly because at the same time San Franz was suffering from 6 much smaller mud slides and many people we knew were killed or otherwise made homeless. In fact. Col.Lademora's daughter Carie, my G-Dmother, who was our mayor then had the town declared a "State of Calamity."
Sad times all around.
The cause they say was 10 days of torrential rains where the village on Leyte received 200 cm (79 inches!) of rain! Imagine?Almost 8 inches a day for 10 days.
There had also been an earthquake on Leyte but barely 2.6. Most scientists say the rain was the culprit. The real culprit though was the rank deforestation and mining by multinationals.
I sometimes wonder what was going through the minds of those villagers whose kids, maybe all their kids, were trapped in that school...the villagers who had illegaly logged that hillside, who had worked for the mining companies.
Another interesting aspect was that the school being buried caused nations to just trip over themselves trying to get to the front of the lines with donations. It is great that nations wanted to help but in the end the villagers of Saint Bernard ended up in the same type of grass hut, on that same denuded hillside with nothing having changed except the loss of their children.
The Philippines suffers through these types of things all the time and they don't even rate 2 lines in a Western paper but because of the nightmarish aspect of those poor children under all that mud the checkbooks came out.
Right now, on this island, there is a Dengue (mosquito borne) epidemic, a 60% increase over last year and Monsoon is just kicking off. There is also a malaria epidemic, a cholera epidemic (yet again) and on and on and on...Life as I know it.
Recap: An extra long ferry ride from Manila to Mindanao and was coming close to my destination.
This Entry: Finally arrived in Nasapit, the port that services Butuan, which is itself the major city for NE Mindanao. Our driver Ondoy was there to collect me and off we went.
It was late, said hi, played with Marian and Mayo (ages 10 and 6) and went to lay down. Most people here don't even have electricity, but those that do like Rizza's family don't even use fans. Me? Im a spoiled fuck, a/c all the way so I spend a lot of time in my house when its hot. Rural Mindanao has always had spotty electricity, what the locals call "brown outs," though in the West a "brown out" is when there is a purely localised stoppage. Here? Everything goes off and they use the same term and in fact, I have never heard the term "black out."
English as I have said, is an official language here. It is the language of govt.and of course the courts and yet many speak it only haltingly. Outside of Muslim and Hilltribe areas you can always find a person conversant in it but its a peculiar dialect to be sure.
For example, take food, a favourite subject of mine; "Native Chicken" is the label given to those birds that are closer to their jungle fowl ancestors than to anything a Westerner would recognise. White meat? Guess again mate.
For that you would need a "Broiler." "Broiler" being an American-agri term for a specific type of chicken, here it covers anything with white meat, with a breast.
Need a loo? A bathroom? Here it is a "Comfort Room," in capitals, or "CR" for short. That toilet paper isn't used is an altogether different issue.
I spent my formative years in the Jordanian Valley, living on what had been, just a decade prior, a Jordanian army base. Middle East habits are rudimentary as well though Israel has changed soooooo much in recent years (began changing rapidly in the very late 1980s). I am well used to squatting over a 10cm pipe outlet to do my thing, and not having paper afterwards. As precious as water is there, it having had to have been trucked in, we used it to clean ourselves as do most Asian Cultures. Just that in the ensuing years I have become spoiled, probablly "Americanised" as Israelis call it.
The thing here though? You go to a very modern mall (1st one on Mindanao was built in 2001 and now they are in every large city), you head to the bathroom, and it is as expected, modern.
You sit down feeling somewhat relieved only to find there is no paper. In many parts of Europe you use the bidet (for Americans, it is like a water fountain you squat over to clean those special parts) but in the Philippines, in malls, you have a trough (used on farms to water cattle and horses).
Being insanely private over these things as only SE Asians can be, noone is going to scrub their anus in view of 30 other men. Ergo, there are a large number of Filipinos walking around malls with crust in their ass. Niiiiiiiiiiiiiice.
Speaking of fun things, there is an interesting English word for mesntrual symptoms, "Dysopnea."Probablly a legitmate medical term, albeit one I have never heard of.
In any event, I was awoken before dawn by an earthquake. Mindanao has them about once every 10 days, usually well below 5 on the Richter. This one was 4.2.
Where do you think the safest part of a building is, during an earthquake? Counter-intuitively, it is the door frame! However, earthquakes are usually over so quickly that by the time I rolled out of bed it was over. After shocks are common though but I decided to throw on my shorts, tee and flip flops (rubber sandals) and head out into the compound.
Noone gave a shit, because as I said, it was a small quake and they happen so often that the dogs weren't even spooked.
As I walked into the mists that always accompany day break (I live in a mountain valley) a convoy of logging trucks were rolling down Mangga, the road in front of our compound. It made me very sad.
In 1910, when the US took its first real survey of natural resources here, preparing to rape the land, they stated that the country was 90% virgin forest (jungle). Today the country is down to 11%.
This in turn wreaks havoc on the land and its people. On Feburary 17th, 2006 in Barangay Guinsaugon, in the town of Saint Bernard in Southern Leyte Province, on the island of Leyte a very large hill disintegrated in a mudslide 4 km.long and buried an entire village. This is a nation where such things happen a lot, sad to say. This village was unique though because the mud, over 300 meters deep (nearly 1,000 ft.) buried a public school killing 246 of its 247 students and 7 of its 8 teachers.
I was in NY at the time, working, but I remember the horror I felt...and I don't often have that emotion seeing the things that I have. I also remember it keenly because at the same time San Franz was suffering from 6 much smaller mud slides and many people we knew were killed or otherwise made homeless. In fact. Col.Lademora's daughter Carie, my G-Dmother, who was our mayor then had the town declared a "State of Calamity."
Sad times all around.
The cause they say was 10 days of torrential rains where the village on Leyte received 200 cm (79 inches!) of rain! Imagine?Almost 8 inches a day for 10 days.
There had also been an earthquake on Leyte but barely 2.6. Most scientists say the rain was the culprit. The real culprit though was the rank deforestation and mining by multinationals.
I sometimes wonder what was going through the minds of those villagers whose kids, maybe all their kids, were trapped in that school...the villagers who had illegaly logged that hillside, who had worked for the mining companies.
Another interesting aspect was that the school being buried caused nations to just trip over themselves trying to get to the front of the lines with donations. It is great that nations wanted to help but in the end the villagers of Saint Bernard ended up in the same type of grass hut, on that same denuded hillside with nothing having changed except the loss of their children.
The Philippines suffers through these types of things all the time and they don't even rate 2 lines in a Western paper but because of the nightmarish aspect of those poor children under all that mud the checkbooks came out.
Right now, on this island, there is a Dengue (mosquito borne) epidemic, a 60% increase over last year and Monsoon is just kicking off. There is also a malaria epidemic, a cholera epidemic (yet again) and on and on and on...Life as I know it.