All the Sadness in the World

I first heard of the Irish singer Dolores O’Riordan as a college freshman when CJ, a classmate who adores all kinds of music, particularly female pop artists, made a mixtape for me of the alternative rock band The Cranberries. CJ recorded for me “Linger,” “Dreams” and some choice tracks from their “No Need to Argue” album, including “I Can’t Be with You,” “Empty” and “Ridiculous Thoughts.” The latter also featured young actor Elijah Wood on MTV. At the time, alternative music dominated both radio and TV, giving us more choices besides the clichéd popular tunes. It was a great time to be alive: alternative music straddling both pop and rock were in, both here and abroad. But more than anything, alternative music simply meant a different sound. Different meant new. Different meant fresh. I first heard “Linger” on DWEB-FM, the local rock station where I would find myself working as a DJ years later. It's a slow tune lamenting the infidelity of one’s beloved. I liked its unhurried rhythm; the song makes you take it easy and imagine lazy afternoons. But I think it is O’Riordan’s keening voice that makes the song last. Her background vocals sounds sadder than the deep, sad voice singing the lyrics, which makes it more appealing. It is her grieving voice that makes it worth listening to. Besides this, I suppose it’s the repetitive “Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to, do you have to, do you have to let it linger?” that really makes the song “linger.” Listening to the radio, it was also hard for me to resist humming along with her singing “Dreams,” especially the last part, which stands out even with the African background vocals and instruments: Laaaaaa laaaaa la la la laaaa laaaaaa; laaaaaa laaaaa la la la laaaa laaaaaa; laaaaaa laaaaa la la la laaaa laaaaaa:” These are the parts that would last in your head. Through my equally fanatic cousin Jokoy, I learned more about the Cranberries: O’Riordan, the Hogan brothers and Fergal Lawler. The band projected restrained, generally discontented youth minus the sloppy outfits of the grunge artists. I found their packaging consistent with their music, particularly Dolores’s vocals, not only “linger”-ing but poignant and especially affecting. Two years later, I would publish a review of their “To the Faithful Departed” album for the short-lived Bikol Daily. Writing the review in 1996, I was drawn not to the more popular hits “When You’re Gone” or “Free to Decide” but rather to the more elegiac “Joe” and “Cordell,” tributes to the countless nameless victims of the much-publicized Bosnian war in Bosnia-Herzegovina (Sarajevo) in the mid-1990s. To understand the voice of O’Riordan and the band Cranberries is to understand where the group are coming from. They have lived in a war-worn Ireland which normally inspires artists to harp not anymore on the personal issues but also the more serious, bigger themes like war and death. Departing from the hackneyed themes of love, their songs advocate something bigger than the self. The lyrics of “Free to Decide” speak of a person's right to expression or freedom of choice, while “Zombie” immortalizes the tragedy of war, lamenting that: “It’s the same old theme, since 1916. In your head, in your head, they’re still fighting… in your head, in your head, they are dying…” Then, watching “Animal Instinct” in 2003, an upbeat piece featuring her beautiful, more mature voice which now sounded almost like Karen Carpenter’s, I was drawn to the music video depicting a mother’s separation from her children and the her innate nature to protect them. If at all, O’Riordan was one of the influences predating the "emo" generation; her voice is predominantly sad, what with all the songs she made popular with The Cranberries. If not about broken relationships or deaths in war-torn Europe, their music, , especially her voice, laments all the sadness in the world. I must have even typecast her and the band as “sad-sounding singers” especially when later, more positive pieces like “Analyse” or “Just My Imagination” came out in early 2000s. Not only that I could hardly relate to their happier expressions; I now found her cheerful voice hardly believable. Despite the happier tune it had, her voice was always sad to me. Nevertheless, it amazes me how Dolores O’Riordan’s voice has become iconic, probably cutting across social classes. I think “Zombie,” “Ode to My Family” and their early hits “Linger” and “Dreams” enjoyed much airplay over the local FM radio, so that they became anthems of probably most listeners. Consider the song “Zombie,” which, like “Ode to My Family” or “When You’re Gone,” is now a staple song in any videoke songs list or probably any local karaoke bar, with its signature yodelling, “eehh eehh eehh ooohh ooohh ooohh ooohh ooohh ooohh ooohh eeehh aahh aahh aahh.” With all these pieces, it would be hard to forget so much sadness in ourselves and in the world. O’Riordan’s voice sings our restrained, sad selves; her voice is primarily ours, not only belaboring all its maladies, but also grieving life’s tragedies. Even her first name, “Dolores,” comes to me now as consistent with her voice. It comes from the word “Dolor,” meaning “painful grief”; the word dolorous as an adjective also means “showing sorrow”. So there: her name and her voice are one and the same. However, what is appealing in Dolores O'Riordan and The Cranberries is how they have turned bitter personal and social experiences into beautiful anthems not only of death and loss but also of healing, of life and gain. Her beautiful voice is grieving but it also evokes hope and the capacity to move on. The news of her death doubtless surprised me, but it only rather made me think that the songs, which strike a chord in most of us who grew up in the 90s, will linger even after she’s gone. Her songs—I mean, her voice—will remind me of the sadness of life, but also of the necessity of grief, which I suppose can help me weather the tragedies of life. #ripdolores #doloresoriordan #cranberries

Exaggerations

Sa puro nin muro

Nagliwanag an altar

Asin sa samong atubang

Nagtindog an Pading Halangkaw

Binasa an Ebanghelio kan Aldaw:

“Sa ulo ng mga nagbabagang balita.

This Bikol poem titled “Ritwal” written by Bikol poet Frank Peñones, Jr. presents our disappointment from watching news TV nowadays.

At the tip of one’s fingertips, the screen lights up when he presses the machine’s button.  Then before the TV audience, the “high priest” stands and declares the reading of the “gospel of the day”: he starts reading the news.

Comparing news to the Daily Gospel spells the effectiveness of Peñones’s poem, perfectly mocking the reality how we the audience treat television with deference. But just as the audience considers news as gospel truth, Peñones’s reduces television to a ritualistic and routine endeavor, with both hosts and audience transformed into automatons.

And when the media high priest declares that what he has is “nagbabagang balita” (scorching hot news), the “ritual” is further reduced to exaggeration. It’s card-stacking and plain propaganda at its best.

It is tragic how television nowadays becomes the site of exaggerations of the real thing—and not as sensible avenue for critical thinking by the audience.

In particular, there is much pretense in how TV news anchors in this country convey information to the public.

Consider Mike Enriquez and Noli de Castro. These two—whom others now call institutions—tend to sensationalize every piece of information that their production team has prepared in the very manner they express it to the public.

First, Enriquez wins awards for his broadcasting style. I do not know why. But Mike Enriquez’s newscasting is pure exaggeration. He speaks so rapidly to the extent that it is only he who understands what he is saying. In a sense, you are rather only entertained—and not sensibly informed— by his presence.

In his every single appearance on news television, he seems to be eating his own words—but honestly, he sounds like a character in a comedy movie who rather mocks newscasting. More honestly now, he reminds me of Steve Carrell’s character in the Jim Carrey movie Bruce Almighty.

Enriquez should go back to his speech classes so he might as well observe slashes and double slashes when reading something. He needs to pause; and stop. So he can best be understood.

For his part, Noli de Castro has always sounded inflated all these years. In the poem stated earlier, Peñones is referring to Noli De Castro whose “Magandang Gabi, Bayan” augured well for the Filipino audience. And, well, as a consequence of his public identity, he became the country’s vice-president.

De Castro’s loud, imposing voice reading the country’s daily news gets our attention only because he reads the news with some kind of wild energy, making any serious item sound so utterly tragic and even a rather simple piece of information sounds very serious.

While it is good that he should project some verve, the right energy in reading out the information to the public, doing so in a pretentiously serious manner (as if it’s in critical condition) does not help the viewer much in sifting information for their own purpose.

The same thing is true in the case of other national newscasters including Ted Failon, Mel Tiangco and Korina Sanchez. What are they rushing for, anyway? Did the TV moguls ask them to read five or more news articles in 2 minutes or even less, so as to accommodate more advertisements in between their newscast? Okay.

When read by these newsmen, the daily news becomes so nerve-racking and tense. And upsetting. They may be tasked to heighten the public’s sense or awareness on social issues, but what they really do is to seem to always shock the audience even when the kind of information being relayed is otherwise lighthearted or even trivial.

Arnold Clavio, Vicky Morales, Paolo Bediones and others on primetime news TV can benefit from listening to how their forerunners really sound so ridiculous. They should not wait for the time that they themselves would be reading news at the rate of 1,000 words per minute only to rake ratings [when their time comes to be the leading news anchors]. But if they also do, by then they will have begun an era in which speed, not sensible information—is the mere yardstick of newscasting.

Can't they look to how news anchors over BBC, CNN or Australian TV appear poker-faced and sound composed even when reporting major news stories to the rest of the world? To these journalists, it is clear that their purpose is to simply convey information to the public without much sentiment so as to allow the audience to feel the thing—or sift the issue from the information—themselves. We can only admire how field reporters from across the world feeding news into big networks appear totally unruffled despite being situated in battlefields or calamity-stricken areas. 

Back in our country, with the way these news anchors race past each other—pataasan ng boses, making news and events appear that they matter even when they really don’t, it appears that TV networks only rally against each other to rake ratings for themselves.

The terms “News and Public Affairs” suck because all the networks care about is profit—each second on airtime is profit. It’s still the economics at the end of the day.

No Country for Old Men

The Commission on Elections (Comelec) in Capiz headed by Mr. Wil Arceño recently dismissed the forthcoming Sangguniang Kabataan (SK) elections as needless if not unnecessary, deeming it a futile exercise primarily because it is not the youth themselves who call the shots, but other members of the barangay or the community.

Comelec’s dismissal was revealed even as it also announced that the barangay elections will proceed along with the youth polls in October this year.

How important is the Sangguniang Kabataan? We randomly surveyed members of the voting youth—and what we got was a mixture of opinions. While one said that “Wala man gid obra sa SK (Wala naman talagang trabaho sa SK),” saying that it only exists during basketball games or pa-Liga sa Barangay, another quipped, “Depende man na sa barangay (It depends on the barangay),” adding that what is important is that the voice of the youth is duly represented in the barangay council.

While we now find ourselves contemplating the same dilemma, one barangay captain randomly relayed to us how this issue remains debatable. He said that there is nothing wrong with the senior members of the council interfering with the matters of the youth. Besides, they who ought to be the future leaders need to be taught or mentored on governance and everything it requires. This presupposes that the elected youth are naïve in matters of governance or say, implementing projects for their fellow youth constituents or even the bigger community. 

But it is a different matter altogether when funds reportedly appropriated for youth projects in the barangay are not accordingly given or shelled out for their purposes. Across the country, stories are told about how senior members of the barangay council or even the parents of the elected youth appropriate projects and funds for purposes other than the development of the youth. As such, the SK that prevails is still SK—only that it means Sangguniang Kamagulangan (Council of the Elders) or Sangguniang Katingulangan (Council of the Elderly).

As per the Local Government Code of 1991, the 10 percent of General Fund of the Barangay earmarked for SK “shall be spent to initiate programs designed to enhance the social political, economic, cultural, intellectual, moral, spiritual and physical development of the members.” The SK chairperson also serves as ex-officio member of the barangay council and is entitled to a barangay councilor’s honorarium.

The presence of Sangguniang Kabataan is the privilege given for the youth. Therefore, the best thing that the members of the non-youth in the barangay council can do is to let them speak out their concerns, without being dictated by anyone. Parents and the senior members of the barangay can only do so much as to provide for the youth and their well-being—perhaps extend to them pieces of advice on matters of how to improve themselves, but the SK privilege is not in any way reserved for them. Never should the senior members of the community speak or assert anything in their behalf.

Two Words in Our Time

Recently, I have observed two words that have entered our modern lexicon, both of which merit some discussion and perhaps, appreciation.

Consider the first one: selfie. Announced by Time Magazine as one of the top 10 buzzwords for 2012, “selfie” refers to any self-portrait photograph—taken by the subject himself or herself with the use of a modern technology gadget like a cellular phone, tablet, or just about any portable camera; and later uploaded on Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, or any other social networking site.

Writing for the BBC news magazine online, Charissa Coulthard says that, owing to the fact that this type of photos has been flooding social media sites in recent months, “selfie” has become commonplace enough to be monitored for inclusion in the online version of the Oxford English Dictionary. Coulthard reports that a search on Instagram retrieves over 23 million photos uploaded with the hashtag #selfie, and a whopping 51 million with the hashtag #me.”

Further, one selfie alone posted by one of my FB friends as her Profile Picture elicited some 90 Like!s from all her friends from across the world. What can be more amazing than that?

But among others, selfie serves some purpose. Upon the very act of posting one’s own picture online, the subject flings himself or herself open to public examination. Because the self becomes the subject of public scrutiny, judging from the likes and comments that the post elicits or draws out from other Internet users, he or she can be made aware of their own charm, or the lack of it.

And if one selfie elicits many reactions, with some of them even citing certain aspects of the photo or features of the subject, the whole exercise can guide the person which of their characteristics can be considered desirable—and which cannot.

The concept of selfie then rises beyond vanity, or some penchant to take pride in and parade one’s own beauty. In a sense, the selfie is able to relay back to the subjects not only how they look good to others but how else they can look better.

The entire online exercise—from choosing which picture to post to enhancing them using software applications to actually posting it to eliciting reactions from others—allows for self-examination and even introspection.

Then, there is the other word—“Bombo” or “bombo,” functioning both as noun and verb—which I suppose has already been a household name long time ago.

In the provinces and cities across the country, the Bombo Radyo by the Florete Group of Companies from Iloilo has permeated the public consciousness owing to the presence of their radio stations across some 20 major provinces in the archipelago.

Through the years, Bombo Radyo has staged commentators and announcers for their news and public affairs department who have criticized on air practically almost everyone whom they consider misbehaving, errant or corrupt both in private and public spheres.

Virtually, the Bombo programs have gained notoriety even as its literal drum noise barrages on air—indeed, in order to parade its subject’s misdemeanors for everyone to hear. While it has gained the ire of its subjects, through time, the commentary culture it has fostered has also helped create a Filipino audience critical of social issues.

So commonly nowadays you would hear how one public figure or even an entirely anonymous person literally “figured in public” because “na-Bombo siya,” meaning—his or her name was mentioned in the Bombo Radyo commentary program), which also means he or she figured in some scam, scandal or anomaly.

During Bombo Hanay or similar commentary  programs, the commentator host raises a particular issue that primarily concerns the public, presents the allegedly errant personalities or officials and then, basing on reports of malfeasance, strips them bare to the bone.

Their accuracy or observance of media ethics notwithstanding, these and the counterpart commentaries in other radio networks keep the public officials and other social leaders in check even as they do not only examine the issue but also more than scrutinize the behavior of the personalities involved.

It is always best to attack the issue as the case in point. At times, however, the verbal criticisms on the radio become vitriol, cannot help but do so “below the belt,” because the host can hardly separate the issue from the personality involved.

As such, the word Bombo performs a function similar to the one delivered by selfie. Through this, Bombo keeps its subjects in check and makes them aware of themselves. And by doing so, the media involved is virtually holding up the mirror of the community to its own constituents to make them see the ills of their own society. Such has always been the mandate of the fourth estate.

In this sense, both “selfie” and “Bombo” subject the personalities or persons to be judged per se; and both forms of criticism create avenues to critique the self, and how it can do better or be better.

While this parallelism may appear new, the thing about self-criticism is not new all. Not surprisingly, such concepts elicited by both words had already been pondered ages and eons ago, particularly by the Greek Socrates,  who said: “The unexamined life is not worth living,” or something to that effect. Trite but true; so trite but so true.

The Writer of Our Discontent

Mayong maogmang persona sa mga obra ni Frank Peñones, Jr. Kun igwa man ngaya, mabibilang ta sana sa muro an magayagayang mga tema sa saiyang mga rawitdawit. Bako man nin huli ta gabos sainda nagmumundo kundi nin huli ta an kadaklan sainda igwang dakulang disgusto sa mga bagay sa palibot ninda.

In 2010, Bikol poet Frank Peñones, Jr. (FPJ)
considered that the plethora of Bikol literature,
flowing from the current output of individual writers altogether
contribute to the flowering of the Bikol literature.

Gabos sainda igwang mga isyu—igwang mga reklamo. Partikularmente, kadaklan sainda, dai kuntento, o masasabi tang mayo nin kaogmahan sa mundo. Sa manlaen laen na rason. Kun ano-anong kadahilanan—alagad ta sa kadaklan na beses, nin huli ta sinda nadada’tugan, natutu’makan, o nasasaniban.

Normal man sana ini—kun susumahon ta o kun hihilingon ta an palibot kun sain nabuhay si Frank Peñones, Jr. Nabuhay si Frank Peñones, Jr. (FPJ) bako man gayong harayo sa palibot na pig-itokan kan kinaban kan saro pa man na FPJ—an artistang si Fernando Poe, Jr.

Puwede ta nganing sabihon na an duwang FPJ—duwa katao, sarong pangaran—nin huli man sana ta tibaad pareho an karera ninda sa buhay. Magtao nin boses sa saradit, sa inaapi, sa dinuduhagi, sa mayo nin lugar sa kinaban na ini.

Mala ngani ta sa enot na tataramon ni Paz Verdades Santos sa Cancion can Tawong Lipod, an panduwang poetry anthology ni Frank Peñones, Jr. na paluwas pa sana, nasilag kan Bikolista kun pa’no siya nagpumirit na ipadangog an saiyang tingog sa saiyang mga kahimanwa dangan man sa gabos na Pilipino.

Sa nasambit nang koleksyon, sinaro-saro ni Frank Peñones, Jr. an pagbubuyboy niya sa mga isyu kan saiyang banwa. Gamit an manlainlain na persona sa saiyang mga tula, tinawan duon ni Frank Peñones, Jr. an balor kan paghiling kan mga Bikolano sa saindang sadiring dila, na nangangahulugan nin pagrumpag kan mga institusyon arog kan gobyerno, simbahan asin ano man na status quo.

Sa kadaklan niyang mga obra, tinuya-tuya niya an mga yaon sa poder. Binunyag niya an mga anomaliya kan mga poderosong abusado arog kan academya, kamara asin pulisiya.

Sa mahahamot na rima sagkod mga paghorop-horop sa nagkapirang buhay kan saiyang mga persona, hinalayhay niya sa madla an bata kan sosyedad na minaratak sa derechos kan ordinaryong Bikolano.

Ano daw ta igwang kung anong kamunduan sa kada tingog na pinapataram sa mga obrang sini ni Frank Peñones, Jr.?