Back when the idea of a blog was something so radical they hadn't developed engines for it, a British man who answers to the name of Mil Millington put down into words the little inane things he and his girlfriend have argued about and put them on a website. Soon, word of the website spread among netizens.
In those days, you could copy something off the Internet, claim it as your own work, and none would be the wiser. Unfortunately, the page was written at a time when Internet authors began to realize just how much their intellectual property rights were being violated.
Then, in a brazen act of plagiarism, the British publication Mail on Sunday (MoS), ran his work as a running column, passing it off as original work by a fictional staffer.
This came to the attention of a friend of Mr Millington's, who promptly wrote the MoS. The MoS replied with the threat of a suit for Mr Millington's apparently true insinuations (only in Britain!). Eventually MoS settled with Mr Millington for a tidy sum (not to mention throwing in a two-book deal for good measure).
Anyway, it may take a long time to read, so I suggest you stock up on beer and chips. Find a comfy chair while you're at it. It's going to be a hell of a ride.
Saturday, September 25
Thursday, September 23
Shot in the Middle of Nowhere
I shot this somewhere between New Mexico and El Paso. This, I believe, is quite right in the middle of nowhere.
Signs of the Times No. 2
Vic Icasas caught this motherly-looking lady doing the unmotherly thing for Ateneo during their embarassing, lopsided loss to the Archers. I heard Vic was road-testing the new Canon professional digital SLR. Talk about cameras capturing priceless moments.
New professional level SLR - $2,000.
Digital photo kit - $1,000.
Press ID for Ateneo-La Salle playoff match. - $500.
Capturing old lady in Ateneo shirt giving the finger - PRICELESS.
Max Brenner
Went to Max Brenner. Got a really thick chocolate that felt like ganache. Cliff calls me a loser for not getting a suckao. Well, I'm not a sucker for advertising. I'll take whatever everyone else isn't taking. If that's still good, then good for the place.
Anyway, all that I needed was a chocolate fix, and I got it. It's funny how much chocolate is in that little thing.
It's overpriced, though, so I don't think I'll be back there any time soon.
Monday, September 20
Sub/Versive Link No. 2
Self-Regulation
I wonder if this stuff will fly here. Again, more proof that pornography isn't the evil that moralists purport it to be.
I wonder if this stuff will fly here. Again, more proof that pornography isn't the evil that moralists purport it to be.
Friday, September 17
Small Things
Joey Alarilla, in his Palanca-winning essay about living the wired life in the Zeroes, notes that our lives have now become subject to the whims of the gods of small things. You don't have to look very far to find examples:
- Does my PDA have enough juice to last me the whole day?
- Is the office mail server down again?
- Must I load my phone card with phone credits right now?
- Is the car charger for my phone busted?
- Will Blogger go down again and refuse to publish my posts?
I think the theory is that these things have no direct connection with living. Therefore, they are small and insignificant compared to other things, such as whether or not you make it through the day without losing your sanity.
One of the most significant themes that you find in literature is the theory that says it's the small things in life that count, that make life worth living.
I read a short story once about how women notice the small things that men often overlook, and that sometimes that can spell the difference between murder and suicide. This story was written, of course, in a time where forensic science was more the work of fiction and fantasy than the serious academic subject that it is today. However, the point was made, and quite eloquently, too.
After all, it's the thousand straws that break the camel's back, to restate an old saying.
I'll be the first to admit that it's hard to look at the big picture. People who study human nature say that people notice the faults of a person they see wearing white hats. They use this theory to explain why when famous people make mistakes, it's funny. You don't expect them to make mistakes. That's why you also remember their booboos more than anything substantial that they may have said. Bill Clinton will probably be remembered more for Monica Lewinsky than for being the American President who led his country out of an insurmountable budget deficit, revived the American economy, and played a mean saxophone.
Last Tuesday, my wife had her own personal experience with the Gods of Small Things. dropped her new phone from the bedside table. Although that phone's been dropped from higher places and on harder surfaces, this particular drop blanked out the phone's LCD. She was despondent the whole day, until we got to Globe and had the thing fixed. Even though she got her phone back sans directory and unsaved images, it was as if she had been touched by an angel.
I think she was. Having her phone fixed made her happier than scoring at least 90 on all her midterms, the pain in her tooth (now pulled out, thank God), and the unending war she wages with acne.
So today, I had a small toss-up with my wife about where to have her tooth pulled. We weren't seeing eye to eye on the whole thing, so I took a dive. As my friend Louie says, "you can't win an argument with a woman, especially your wife." My wife insists it's my fault because I didn't wake up early enough to get everything done so that the only thing left to do would be to take her to my friend, the dentist and have her tooth pulled out instead of the drama we had to endure earlier. After her tooth got extracted, it was as if she never got mad in the first place.
Amazing how the small things matter. I hope she notices.
Thursday, September 16
Tremors
An earthquake hit Manila around 3:10AM (+800 GMT). Sure brought me back to my senses. All it took was one small shove in the Manila Trench, and you've got all these massive forces unleashed on the Philippines. Among those unleashed was a small voice that said just how insignificant our little troubles are in the grand scheme of things.
Earthquakes tend to be worse than they actually are in buildings. Engineering-wise, it's because of a concept called sway. Ground movements are amplified by a certain factor, and I've been told that the higher you are on a particular building, the higher this factor is.
As a result, even the smallest of earthquakes has disastrous potential. However, that I feel earthquakes more strongly than the ordinary man on the street is not to say that sway is a bad thing. Engineers can usually set the sway frequency of a building during construction. Set your building to sway just right and you've got yourself a pretty earthquake-proof building. Remove sway totally, and the push-and-pull action the ground makes during an earthquake can level everything.
When we bought this unit in 1988, they told us that this was one of the most earthquake-proof buildings in the Philippines. Well, the support beams are among the thickest I've ever seen (the columns are more than a meter wide), but I have been told by some engineers have that this width is merely an illusion: most of the building's piping runs through these columns, considerably weakening the building's structural integrity. Chalk one up to falling for what legal people call "trader's talk". In other words, BS.
Just last year, people found cracks on the facade that ran from base to roof. No one can point, with authority, as to the cause of these cracks. Some have argued that these cracks are from a waterproofing problem encountered during the building's construction. My personal suspicion is that there is some flaw in the building that's developed over time. When your association dues are among the lowest in the Ortigas Central Business District, building maintenance probably isn't one of your strong suits.
The tremor itself wasn't so strong. However, it did last quite a bit. My wife suggested that perhaps it was time to head for the nearest door frame, and I'd wondered why the shaking hadn't stopped at least twice, all during the main quake.
I can't wait to move into my own home. Then I wouldn't have to worry about sway anymore. I also woudn't have to worry about a host of other things, but the earthquake's pretty much made those little things seem like a bonus.
On the plus side, David slept through the whole thing, and all by himself too. This is, I think, a first for David. In school, I'll bet those who woke up during the earthquake will talk all about it, and David will just look at them as if they were from Mars, eyes filled with blissful ignorance.
Earthquakes tend to be worse than they actually are in buildings. Engineering-wise, it's because of a concept called sway. Ground movements are amplified by a certain factor, and I've been told that the higher you are on a particular building, the higher this factor is.
As a result, even the smallest of earthquakes has disastrous potential. However, that I feel earthquakes more strongly than the ordinary man on the street is not to say that sway is a bad thing. Engineers can usually set the sway frequency of a building during construction. Set your building to sway just right and you've got yourself a pretty earthquake-proof building. Remove sway totally, and the push-and-pull action the ground makes during an earthquake can level everything.
When we bought this unit in 1988, they told us that this was one of the most earthquake-proof buildings in the Philippines. Well, the support beams are among the thickest I've ever seen (the columns are more than a meter wide), but I have been told by some engineers have that this width is merely an illusion: most of the building's piping runs through these columns, considerably weakening the building's structural integrity. Chalk one up to falling for what legal people call "trader's talk". In other words, BS.
Just last year, people found cracks on the facade that ran from base to roof. No one can point, with authority, as to the cause of these cracks. Some have argued that these cracks are from a waterproofing problem encountered during the building's construction. My personal suspicion is that there is some flaw in the building that's developed over time. When your association dues are among the lowest in the Ortigas Central Business District, building maintenance probably isn't one of your strong suits.
The tremor itself wasn't so strong. However, it did last quite a bit. My wife suggested that perhaps it was time to head for the nearest door frame, and I'd wondered why the shaking hadn't stopped at least twice, all during the main quake.
I can't wait to move into my own home. Then I wouldn't have to worry about sway anymore. I also woudn't have to worry about a host of other things, but the earthquake's pretty much made those little things seem like a bonus.
On the plus side, David slept through the whole thing, and all by himself too. This is, I think, a first for David. In school, I'll bet those who woke up during the earthquake will talk all about it, and David will just look at them as if they were from Mars, eyes filled with blissful ignorance.
Sunday, September 12
Signs of the Times No. 1
My family and I went to Hong Kong last summer. When we came back, this was the first thing we saw. This was also the first thing other foreigners saw.
I think you can tell how a country is by their signs. This, I believe, is so indicative of ours. Nothing says more about ineptitude than this sign.
Hint: I encircled the error. Couldn't help it. Must be the editor in me.
Cibo
Went to Cibo the other day for a vegetable panini. This is a diet by my standards, mind. Now I get full on one cup of rice, and I don't overeat as much. It's amazing, actually.
Anyway, my wife's taking her mint iced tea while playing Fried Rice Paradise on her cellular phone. It's a bit like Lemonade Tycoon, except that it's about fried rice. Just be careful not to press the quit button, or your saved game goes to the dustbin.
Today, she wrote to our friends. It's so heartwarming. I'd almost forgotten how well she writes. She wrote about how sad she was that our friends have all gone their own separate lives, and that we don't extend the effort to reach out and be part of each others lives again.
I hope our old friends do listen.
Friday, September 10
Blog Critique No. 1
no one will see us...
Lawyers come in all shapes and sizes, in all forms and persuasions. Here's a new associate, who's younger than me, but is now working for some law firm in Makati.
She hasn't updated her blog for September, but the posts that are already there should be enough for the intrepid reader.
Someone should warn her though, on the danger of writing about her work on her blog. That can be quite disastrous. Just ask Joyce Park.
Lawyers come in all shapes and sizes, in all forms and persuasions. Here's a new associate, who's younger than me, but is now working for some law firm in Makati.
She hasn't updated her blog for September, but the posts that are already there should be enough for the intrepid reader.
Someone should warn her though, on the danger of writing about her work on her blog. That can be quite disastrous. Just ask Joyce Park.
Sub/Versive Link No. 1
My good friend supa_proxy sent this cartoon to me through Yahoo! Messenger last night.
I'm glad for cartoonware. It's not as hard to create biting satire using words and images as it used to be. Now, all you need to have is a little time and something funny to say.
w00t!
I'm glad for cartoonware. It's not as hard to create biting satire using words and images as it used to be. Now, all you need to have is a little time and something funny to say.
w00t!
Subpoena Ad Testificandum
I went to court yesterday. That's my name on the calendar right there. Damn trial got postponed because the private prosecutor, who was supposed to continue my cross got "sick".
I got to choose when I'll continue with my cross, however. I set it on the 20th. Criminal cases take so long to prosecute because of these Urgent Motions to Postpone. There should be a stiffer fine for infractions like these. Something like 20,000 pesos per postponement or similar.
Wednesday, September 8
Anatomy of an Argument
In anthropology class, we were taught that we, as a people, abhor direct confrontation.
In his column in the Inquirer, anthropologist Michael Tan notes that this tendency is reflected in the way we address difficult issues. Humorist Tomas Andres calls it "the sandwich method." We confront others in between slices of small talk.
We don’t just do it when we converse. In the old days before changing rooms became fashionable, writes Ambeth Ocampo, we created privacy for ourselves by which we could change clothes turning our backs on the rest of the room. Asking everyone else to leave would just be, well, rude.
Instead, we resort to passive-aggressive techniques to show our displeasure with others. We rely on subtle hints that may or may not hit the mark. The thing is, we fully expect those against whom we show our scorn to fully appreciate the extent of our scorn, hidden though it may be through layers and layers of Tupperware.
I personally experienced this while in the grocery with my wife today. I suppose it's her form of retail therapy, having had trouble in class earlier.
In my ten years of being attached, I've found out that when women want to do something for themselves, they want their significant others to do it with them. I'm no psychologist, but I think my experience as my wife's whipping boy qualifies me.
Anyway, I think that the logic behind the behavior goes this way:
When girls go to the bathroom, you can apply the same logic to explain why you need a whole army of girls to go peepee. In a female world, not only does it work, it's an agent for world peace. Imagine that.
Unfortunately, there is one big flaw with this argument. Men, strange creatures that we are, do not usually find all things that women find relaxing as actually relaxing.
Take shopping for clothes, for instance. I would think that most of the time, shopping is less pleasant an experience than going to the dentist. I may speak only for myself, but when I go to the dentist, I not only get a nice, comfy chair where I can sit and listen to your dentist tell me stories about her and her boyfriend’s (mis)adventures in cyberspace. When my wife drags me to go shopping, I ought to expect nothing, except being asked a million times, “Do I look fat?”
On the other hand, if we were to replace “shopping” with “getting drunk at Hooters”, you’d find most men in agreement with female logic, and agree that this, indeed is one of the most pleasant things to do in the world.
Which brings me to my story. Did I digress?
So it was that I found myself dragged against my will into the depths of Rockwell, trying to appear excited over shopping for salad ingredients. As with all supermarkets, girls end up buying things they never intended to buy in the first place, and today was no different. Among the non-salad items that we bought were:
That we had to pay so much for salad greens irritated me to no end. I wanted to show my disgust at the state of things, but couldn’t because decorum wouldn’t allow me and experience told me that it would only make matters worse. So, in typical Filipino fashion, I kept quiet until we made it home.
By the time the salad was done, all was right with the world.
In his column in the Inquirer, anthropologist Michael Tan notes that this tendency is reflected in the way we address difficult issues. Humorist Tomas Andres calls it "the sandwich method." We confront others in between slices of small talk.
We don’t just do it when we converse. In the old days before changing rooms became fashionable, writes Ambeth Ocampo, we created privacy for ourselves by which we could change clothes turning our backs on the rest of the room. Asking everyone else to leave would just be, well, rude.
Instead, we resort to passive-aggressive techniques to show our displeasure with others. We rely on subtle hints that may or may not hit the mark. The thing is, we fully expect those against whom we show our scorn to fully appreciate the extent of our scorn, hidden though it may be through layers and layers of Tupperware.
I personally experienced this while in the grocery with my wife today. I suppose it's her form of retail therapy, having had trouble in class earlier.
In my ten years of being attached, I've found out that when women want to do something for themselves, they want their significant others to do it with them. I'm no psychologist, but I think my experience as my wife's whipping boy qualifies me.
Anyway, I think that the logic behind the behavior goes this way:
- Girl wants to do something. Remember that this something can be any activity. Let's call this activity "shopping", for lack of a better term.
- "Shopping" is relaxing for the girl. People have been "shopping" for years as a way to relax. In fact, everyone should go "shopping".
- It would be wrong to go "shopping " alone. Not only is "shopping" fun, I enjoy "shopping" more if I'm with people I love.
- I love my boyfriend.
- Therefore, my boyfriend should go "shopping" with me.
When girls go to the bathroom, you can apply the same logic to explain why you need a whole army of girls to go peepee. In a female world, not only does it work, it's an agent for world peace. Imagine that.
Unfortunately, there is one big flaw with this argument. Men, strange creatures that we are, do not usually find all things that women find relaxing as actually relaxing.
Take shopping for clothes, for instance. I would think that most of the time, shopping is less pleasant an experience than going to the dentist. I may speak only for myself, but when I go to the dentist, I not only get a nice, comfy chair where I can sit and listen to your dentist tell me stories about her and her boyfriend’s (mis)adventures in cyberspace. When my wife drags me to go shopping, I ought to expect nothing, except being asked a million times, “Do I look fat?”
On the other hand, if we were to replace “shopping” with “getting drunk at Hooters”, you’d find most men in agreement with female logic, and agree that this, indeed is one of the most pleasant things to do in the world.
Which brings me to my story. Did I digress?
So it was that I found myself dragged against my will into the depths of Rockwell, trying to appear excited over shopping for salad ingredients. As with all supermarkets, girls end up buying things they never intended to buy in the first place, and today was no different. Among the non-salad items that we bought were:
- Two tins of tuna in water (how appetizing!);
- 100g of fresh cherries (which I don’t eat);
- One issue of YES! Magazine (featuring Marjorie Barretto).
That we had to pay so much for salad greens irritated me to no end. I wanted to show my disgust at the state of things, but couldn’t because decorum wouldn’t allow me and experience told me that it would only make matters worse. So, in typical Filipino fashion, I kept quiet until we made it home.
By the time the salad was done, all was right with the world.
Tuesday, September 7
Coloring Books
This is what my Criminal Procedure textbook looks like. This picture was taken before midterms, so you can see just how many times I've gone over the text (marginal notes notwithstanding).
Besides, I share this textbook with my wife.
At any rate, I think that as we get older, our coloring books get bigger and bigger. Now my coloring book is the size of a real large textbook, with a faux leather cover to boot.
As you can see, it becomes more and more important to color within the lines as one grows older.
Saturday, September 4
Pork and Beans
Warning: This may kill you.
Pork knuckles, slow cooked in bagoong and beans. I call it pork and beans in jest, and I call it heavenly in private. My mom says it comes from an old Ilocano recipe with a Tagalog twist.
There's nothing like it. The meat just falls off the bones. Considering that this is pork knuckle meat we're talking about, you can only guess how soft this dish is.
Family Outings - Hong Kong 1
We got some weird terminal when we landed in Hong Kong. Apparently, they have light trains from the planes to the main terminal, effectively increasing the size of Chep Lap Kok. This is all well and good, but the old attraction of Hong Kong was that the airport was so close to everything. Now the airport is close to nothing.
That's me, my wife, and my mom. This was the last time we were caught smiling on camera. The entire holiday was that bad. I heard they shoot criminals in China. I found out after this trip that it isn't true. They turn criminals into tour guides up there.
So long, Friendster. It's been fun.
There. I've done it. I changed my mind and deleted my account early. Like most Friendster users, I wasn't using my account lately, so I figured I could do without. I lost my connection to 292 friends.
I figure I'll find them all sooner or later. :)
Wednesday, September 1
I'm deleting my Friendster account for ethical reasons. So should you.
Friendster Fires Programmer for Blogging
Today, Friendster did the unthinkable. They fired one of their programmers for publishing good comments about her company.
Friendster's firing of Troutgirl (aka Joyce Park) may be legal in California, where you can fire any employee for any reason, save discrimination, but I'm sure it isn't ethical any way you look at it.
In law, she can rightfully be considered as one whose property rights were violated by an ex post facto law. An ex post facto law is defined as, inter alia, a rule that makes punishable an act which, at the time it was committed, carried no sanction.
Lawmakers are prevented from enacting ex post facto laws because it strikes against the very heart of fairness.
I understand that the people at Friendster want to tighten their screws on corporate secrets, but how corporate secrets were revealed through her blogs is puzzling to me. The change from Java to PHP-based programming was pretty obvious to begin with.
It's too late now. The new CEO of Friendster may want her back to assuage the feelings of the programming community, or those who give a damn, but people should learn from their mistakes.
In response, I am terminating my Friendster account by the end of the month. Due notice and all. It's only fair. I do not want to be associated with a company that has such horrible employee relations.
To those who wrote touching testimonials for me, I cannot thank you enough. Thank you for being part of my life. I'll see you when I see you.
Today, Friendster did the unthinkable. They fired one of their programmers for publishing good comments about her company.
Friendster's firing of Troutgirl (aka Joyce Park) may be legal in California, where you can fire any employee for any reason, save discrimination, but I'm sure it isn't ethical any way you look at it.
In law, she can rightfully be considered as one whose property rights were violated by an ex post facto law. An ex post facto law is defined as, inter alia, a rule that makes punishable an act which, at the time it was committed, carried no sanction.
Lawmakers are prevented from enacting ex post facto laws because it strikes against the very heart of fairness.
I understand that the people at Friendster want to tighten their screws on corporate secrets, but how corporate secrets were revealed through her blogs is puzzling to me. The change from Java to PHP-based programming was pretty obvious to begin with.
It's too late now. The new CEO of Friendster may want her back to assuage the feelings of the programming community, or those who give a damn, but people should learn from their mistakes.
In response, I am terminating my Friendster account by the end of the month. Due notice and all. It's only fair. I do not want to be associated with a company that has such horrible employee relations.
To those who wrote touching testimonials for me, I cannot thank you enough. Thank you for being part of my life. I'll see you when I see you.
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