I declamed when I was in secondary

VENGEANCE IS NOT OURS, IT’S GOD’S

Alms, alms, alms. Spare me a piece of bread. Spare me your mercy. I am a child so young, so thin, and so ragged.
Why are you staring at me? With my eyes I cannot see but I know that you are all staring at me. Why are you whispering to one another? Why? Do you know my mother? Do you know my father? Did you know me five years ago? Yes, five years of bitterness have passed. I can still remember the vast happiness mother and I shared with each other. We were very happy indeed.
Suddenly, five loud knocks were heard on the door and a deep silence ensued. Did the cruel Nippon’s discover our peaceful home? Mother ran to Father’s side pleading. “Please, Luis, hide in the cellar, there in the cellar where they cannot find you,” I pulled my father’s arm but he did not move. It seemed as though his feet were glued to the floor.
The door went “bang” and before us five ugly beasts came barging in. “Are you Captain Luis Santos?” roared the ugliest of them all. “Yes,” said my father. “You are under arrest,” said one of the beasts. They pulled father roughly away from us. Father was not given a chance to bid us goodbye.
We followed them mile after mile. We were hungry and thirsty. We saw group of Japanese eating. Oh, how our mouths watered seeing the delicious fruits they were eating,
Then suddenly, we heard a voice call, “Consuelo. . . . Oscar. . . . Consuelo. . . . Oscar. . . . Consuelo. . . . Oscar. . . .” we ran towards the direction of the voice, but it was too late. We saw father hanging on a tree. . . . dead. Oh, it was terrible. He had been badly beaten before he died. . . . and I cried vengeance, vengeance, vengeance! Everything went black. The next thing I knew I was nursing my poor invalid mother.
One day, we heard the church bell ringing “ding-dong, ding-dong!” It was a sign for us to find a shelter in our hide-out, but I could not leave my invalid mother, I tried to show her the way to the hide-out.
Suddenly, bombs started falling; airplanes were roaring overhead, canyons were firing from everywhere. “Boom, boom, boom, boom!” Mother was hit. Her legs were shattered into pieces. I took her gently in my arms and cried, “I’ll have vengeance, vengeance!” “No, Oscar. Vengeance, it’s God’s,” said mother.
But I cried out vengeance. I was like a pent-up volcano. “Vengeance is mine not the Lord’s”. “No, Oscar. Vengeance is not ours, it’s God’s” these were the words from my mother before she died.
Mother was dead and I was blind. Vengeance is not ours? To forgive is divine but vengeance is sweeter.
That was five years ago, five years. . . .
Alms, alms, alms. Spare me a piece of bread. Spare me your mercy. I am a child so young, so thin, and so ragged. Vengeance is not ours, it’s God’s. . . . It’s. . . . God’s. . It’s…

<end>

This was a copy of my piece that I had when I was in High school. I remember when Ms. Abiog told us to memorize all of this in a span of two weeks while we were busy with other requirements that our mentors gave us. Well, it was 8 years then when I had a chance to declame this piece infront of 47 kiddos who were also equipped of this. I remember too when I declamed this in a not-so-good manner with a reason that it is my first time. First shouldn’t be perfect yeah?! But this was one of the things I miss in High school, reading novels, commenting to it, memorizing pieces for the declamation contest, honing your skills in public speaking and what have you. I miss my highschool, Don Bosco Technical Institute Makati. I miss the people who helped me be what I am now. I miss my advisers, Miss Abiog, Mr. Gonzaga, Mr. Escayde and Ma’m Malou. I had alot of fun when I was in this stage. One thing I am proud of in my life and that is.. I AM A BOSCONIAN.

Thank you

Top 10 Reasons Why There Couldn’t Be a Filipino-American US President

I came through an email having this content. As I read this at first it was nothing but after a few minutes, I was wondering if this could be true or not. I tried to google for some answers but all I see are blogsites which handles the same title as I have now.

This could be true, this could be not. But the point is who did this kind of joke if it then called. If this could be a Filipino-American living on the downtown why would he/she be doing this, is she/he not proud of being a Filipino? If that would be the case, he/she is not proud of being a Filipino then he/she bet for those who fight for Pacquiao and other Filipino fighters not only boxing all sporting events.

Top 10 Reasons Why There Couldn’t Be a Filipino-American US President
By “David Letterman”

10. The White House is not big enough for in-laws and extended relatives.

9. There are not enough parking spaces at the White House for 2 Honda Civics, 2 Toyota Land Cruisers, 3 Toyota Corollas, a Mercedes Benz, a BMW (Big Mean Wife), and an MPV (My Pinoy Van).

8. Dignitaries generally are intimidated by eating with their fingers at State dinners.

7. There are too many dining rooms in the White House – where will they put the picture of the Last Supper?

6. The White House walls are not big enough to hold a pair of giant wooden spoon and fork.

5. Secret Service staff won’t respond to “psst… psst”.

4. Secret Service staff will not be comfortable driving the presidential car with a Holy Rosary hanging on the rear view mirror or the statue of the Santo Nino on the dashboard.

3. No budget allocation to purchase a karaoke machine for every room in the White House.

2. State dinners do not allow “Take Home”.

AND THE NUMBER 1 REASON WHY THERE COULDN’T BE A FILIPINO-AMERICAN US PRESIDENT IS…

1. Air Force One does not allow overweight Balikbayan boxes!

I can't travel without Nokia E63

Nokia E63
I want my Nokia E63 to be with me because with this I can do all I want to do like twitting, plurking, browsing the net. and updating my social media sites

No More Newly Imported Books in the Philippines; The Reason Why

Re-posted from Paul Pajo’s Note: http://www.facebook.com/note.php?note_id=78782582337

Grr! This news makes my blood boil! Picked this up on a blog and I’m spreading the news to help stop this outrage.

In the last few months, the importation of books into the Philippines has virtually stopped. (To those of you who frequent bookstores, I don’t know if you’ve noticed.) The reason why is explained in this article by Robin Hemley, a University of Iowa creative writing professor currently on a fellowship in the Philippines.

If you have no time to read the article, the essence is that because the Bureau of Customs has decided to impose duties on the importation of books into the Philippines.
This, despite the 1950 Florence Agreement on the Importation of Educational, Scientific and Cultural Materials (which you can see here), which the Philippines ratified in 1979. The preamble of the agreement states: “Considering that the free exchange of ideas and knowledge and, in general, the widest possible dissemination of the diverse forms of self-expression used by civilizations are vitally important both for intellectual progress and international understanding, and consequently for the maintenance of world peace…”, an indisputable proposition.

here’s an excerpt from Robin Hemley’s article (i shortened it a bit. better if you can read the whole thing.) -

…Over coffee one afternoon, a book-industry professional (whom I can’t identify) told me that for the past two months virtually no imported books had entered the country, in part because of the success of one book, Twilight by Stephenie Meyer. The book, an international best seller, had apparently attracted the attention of customs officials. When an examiner named Rene Agulan opened a shipment of books, he demanded that duty be paid on it.

The importer of Twilight made a mistake and paid the duty requested. A mistake because such duty flies in the face of the Florence Agreement, a U.N. treaty that was signed by the Philippines in 1952, guaranteeing the free flow of “educational, scientific, and cultural materials” between countries and declaring that imported books should be duty-free. Mr. Agulan told the importer that because the books were not educational (i.e., textbooks) they were subject to duty. Perhaps they aren’t educational, I might have argued, but aren’t they “cultural”?

No matter. With this one success under their belt, customs curtailed all air shipments of books entering the country. Weeks went by as booksellers tried to get their books out of storage and started intense negotiations with various government officials.

What doubly frustrated booksellers and importers was that the explanations they received from various officials made no sense. It was clear that, for whatever reason—perhaps the 30-billion-peso ($625 million) shortfall in projected customs revenue—customs would go through the motions of having a reasonable argument while in fact having none at all.

Customs Undersecretary Espele Sales explained the government’s position to a group of frustrated booksellers and importers in an Orwellian PowerPoint presentation, at which she reinterpreted the Florence Agreement as well as Philippine law RA 8047, providing for “the tax and duty-free importation of books or raw materials to be used in book publishing.” For lack of a comma after the word “books,” the undersecretary argued that only books “used in book publishing” (her underlining) were tax-exempt.

“What kind of book is that?” one publisher asked me afterward. “A book used in book publishing.” And she laughed ruefully.

I thought about it. Maybe I should start writing a few. Harry the Cultural and Educational Potter and His Fondness for Baskerville Type.

Likewise, with the Florence Agreement, she argued that only educational books could be considered protected by the U.N. treaty. Customs would henceforth be the arbiter of what was and wasn’t educational.

“For 50 years, everyone has misinterpreted the treaty and now you alone have interpreted it correctly?” she was asked.

“Yes,” she told the stunned booksellers.

Throughout February and March, bookstores seemed on the verge of getting their books released—all their documents were in order, but the rules kept changing. Now they were told that all books would be taxed: 1 percent for educational books and 5 percent for noneducational books. A nightmare scenario for the distributors; they imagined each shipment being held for months as an examiner sorted through the books. Obviously, most would simply pay the higher tax to avoid the hassle.

Distributors told me they weren’t “capitulating” but merely paying under protest. After all, customs was violating an international treaty that had been abided by for over 50 years. Meanwhile, booksellers had to pay enormous storage fees. Those couldn’t be waived, they were told, because the storage facilities were privately owned (by customs officials, a bookstore owner suggested ruefully). One bookstore had to pay $4,000 on a $10,000 shipment.

The day after the first shipment of books was released, an internal memo circulated in customs congratulating themselves for finally levying a duty on books, though no mention was made of their pride in breaking an international treaty…

Please forward this or disseminate this in any way you can. In the name of reading.

Credit Card Validator

I forgot to blog this that turns out that my site is currently “under review” because of malicious things. But here’s my link.

Click here