Random bitchery

An idle mind is contemptible; it spontaneously regenerates rubbish. This is my paraphrased version of the actual statement of my professor in college who was coaxing me to be active in the activities of his organization connected with the Opus Dei.

His statement was less interestingly said, colorless, dull and more inclined to be euphemistic, of course, as I could not imagine him saying it in such utter directness and crispness. Thankfully, I forgot how he said it as my mind automatically forgets how pathetic thoughts are badly said as soon as I hear them.

Why do people resort to desecrating language and distorting it by saying something that sounds good in lieu of a word that perfectly describes a fact they judge too difficult to swallow or will make them sound less urbane if they use? So they’ll feel good about themselves, elevating them from the rest of the vulgar public? Political correctness is one of the worst inventions of modern society.

I could just imagine how a cripple winces when he is being referred to as ‘differently able’, the poor as ‘on the economic fringes’, the ugly as ‘asymmetrical’, or the stupid as ‘somebody whose EQ is more developed than his IQ’.

I beg to be spared.

I wonder why most young politicians who target the youth vote look odd (I mean weird) on their campaign posters. Some look as if they’ve just come out of a night club looking drunk and drugged. The youngest aspirant for a seat in the city council from Raul Gonzales’s slate is sporting on his posters a raised shirt collar complete with blings huge enough to pass as bike chains topped with heavy blush-on. Now that’s virile, redefined.

I watched on the news that most local governments are setting aside millions of pesos for cloud seeding. I remember however from my grade three science class that this process is only possible if clouds, specifically cumulonimbus, exist. But these gray cottony clouds are nowhere to be found these days. So here a very elementary fact: cloud seeding is not viable if not impossible. Our farmers in the countryside will not appreciate those silver iodide compounds falling from the sky one sunny morning.

We have an international research institute in the country whose sole purpose is to develop hardy strains of rice, and for sure they have something in one of their petri dishes a variety that can stand drought.

How come the government has not anticipated the coming of El Nino and asked farmers to try varieties of rice that do not need a lot of water? Instead those high and mighty occupying posts of authority suggested something as farcical as inducing rain. Like how the Catholic Church calls for the faithful to recite a certain kind of prayer to ask heavens for rain.

This country never ceases to interest me. It’s the most magically real place on the face of the planet where events once thought could only occur in Borges’s, Cortazar’s, or Garcia Marquez’s opuses happen daily, almost unnoticed, more real than real.