Caustic Thoughts

Random funny thoughts with a taste of Pinoy and a hint of acid.

Online

Bricks and Rocks Will Break Your Bones…

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If my husband is any indication, we Filipinos are slowly learning that we can just sit on our lazy asses, cultivate cellulite between the cheeks and let our fingers do all the shopping. Getting an item delivered to you from E-bay can take all of ten minutes without the agony of infinity pools of sweat (yours and other shopper’s) and failing deodorant.

Yes, online shopping is uber convenient but I’d hate to be on the receiving end of bricks and rocks. I’ve heard about this before but never actually thought it happens often in the U.S. Customers buy electronic products only to later find out that their product boxes contain nothing more than the prehistoric equivalent of new technology— bricks and rocks. It’s either there have been a lot of naughty buyers or evil elves behind the counters. One investigative story here hazards an explanation.

That’s easy, you say. After all, in the U.S. a customer can complain all the time and still get a full body massage, a lollipop and a trip to Disneyland. Apparently though, the famed American customer service is no longer a gold standard. Now you can be passed from one rep to another from the Atlantic to the Pacific and there’s nothing you can “sue” about it.

If I got a box of bricks instead of a Mac, I might just skip customer service and start throwing bricks in the dead of the night instead.

*Photo from Big Foto

Attack of the Killer Trolls

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Once again, I, the library-bred, overprotected product of Catholic education, got another crack on my colored glasses. I grew up thinking that it was impossible for anyone to be evil or malicious by nature. I always assumed, “That twisted creep is intent on inducing hemorrhoids in everyone because he can’t get over the fact that he got teased as a kid for fancying pink tutus.”

Imagine my surprise when I met some trolls online. The more proper term for these demented online rejects from hell is flamebaiters. An online guru, several years my junior but with the white beard of an online hermit, told me that flamebaiters/trolls have no reason or dark driving force that compels them to do what they do. They simply derive satisfaction in entering forums to foment dissent, insult people and make everyone miserable.

One forum I joined is currently in the ICU and is on artificial life support after many of its top participants decided to leave or make a silent protest. Who can blame them? The battle with the trolls left a devastating trail of blood, bile and entrails that has leaked beyond the borders of the online world through dirty sneak attacks in the real world.

The forum is a highly formal one. Many of its members are top executives from multinational companies who had no idea they had more than giant lice in their hair. After the disappearance of its high profile members, all I can hear now is the beeping of the respirator.

I just can’t believe that there are bad people who were born trolls.

*Illustration by JNL

To All the Customer Reps I’ve * Before

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I am sorry. If a head of state can use the same line and make an entire nation forget her less than sparkling trail of shit, I can say it too and be forgiven, right?

I know how difficult your job is. I once passed a call center screening but never reported for my first day of work after I got my first sample call from a fake client who sounded like the world was ending and it was all because of my inability to solve his problem. 
I know it’s never really your fault when my wireless internet connection decides to take a hike without permission. I’ve been told it’s really the fault of those tall, healthy Indian and mango trees growing around my house and the random blowing of the wind that just happens to blow more randomly on my antenna than on others. 
But for the sake of my reputation and credibility, I can’t afford to show more proof of my deteriorating sanity by shaking my fists at the wind and the trees. That’s why I indulge in my weakness of peeing horrendously when my bladder is full. I’m sorry that you are always at the receiving end. 
It doesn’t help that when you make me wait for 2-4 minutes your corporate song plays and the only lyrics I hear is, “Maghihintay ako (I’ll be waiting).” Is that some kind of hypnotic suggestion trick? I’m telling you it has the opposite effect on me. The longer I hear it the more vitriolic fluid gets stored in my bladder. Oh, and did I mention that I studied politically correct forms of mild hypnosis in college, the ones they called Marketing 101 and Counseling so I am predisposed to reject all forms of subliminal suggestions to have patience equivalent to the height of Mt. Everest. 
Don’t worry though, you’ll probably never hear from me again. Since I can’t change the fact that I live in a windy place with lots of trees, I have finally decided to ditch my wireless connection for a wired one that’s supposed to be resistant to winds and obstacles. The thing is some of my wired pals also complain about wired connections. Does that mean that I will probably have a new set of customer service representatives to * now? Oh bother. I hope they can get beyond the pitch and tone of my voice and recognize my subliminal message: I am soooo sorry.

Married to Google: My Blogging Tip for Domestic Bliss

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One of the most controversial statements that rocked the Pinoy blogosphere in 2008 came from socialite Malu Fernandez. For those who don’t remember or never knew about the foot in her mouth incident, this is what she had to say about blogging and bloggers:

“But blogging, aside from Perez Hilton and other big time bloggers (you know who you are) is for me a slacker job or a medium and pastime for lonely people to connect. Unless you’re in bloody Siberia or in a Gulag prison, try stepping outside your comfort zone and turn off the laptop or pc, you just might find some real live people to talk to instead of typing away in cyber space.” —Malu Fernandez in Manila Standard Today

Needless to say, her statement, name and reputation were all dragged into the virtual town square and beaten till blue. I participated gleefully in the beating but even at that time, I had no idea to what extent Fernandez had been mistaken.

A few months after the beating, I met a number of great Pinoy bloggers, the quiet, golden ones who get checks from Google every month but who are wise enough not to brandish their skills and earnings in plain sight. If they did, I bet Malu would have that foot throat deep by now.
I had no idea so many Pinoys enjoy secret success online. I wish I were one of them. This is no longer about the lure of unrestrained self-expression. I was never one to blog about the quality of my baby’s breath or my decade delayed angst to begin with. This is about finally finding something I would love to do for the rest of my waking hours without having to beg at the table or perform intricate article tricks for scraps from other blog owners.
I must admit that inspiration has driven me into blogging addiction. It had gotten so bad that at one point, it took an assortment of creepy, crawling critters that had accumulated over what they must have thought was my decomposing carcass to extricate me from the Matrix. I found out after waking up that clawed, canned goods-subsisting creatures in dreadlocks had replaced my husband and child while I was away.
But now that I’m done with nail clipping and hair grooming, I’m not about to volunteer for admission into a rehab or bloggers’ anonymous support group. I’ve decided to dive deeper into my addiction at least until after I have achieved blogging success or after the orderlies take me away.
I suspect though that much depends on how well I use the blogging tips I’ve learned last year. There were a lot of them but one lesson seems to stand out in my mind right now:
Be loyal to Google or prepare to be a whore or gigolo.
Google is like a domestic partner, the half of the relationship that holds the purse strings and the rewards that go with it. Get caught looking at the sexy competition and you will get publicly asphyxiated and stripped of your page rank and Adsense earnings till you and your blog are cold, naked and humiliated in the blogosphere public market. If one desires domestic bliss thou shall not overuse keywords, participate in traffic exchange programs and write paid posts. Google is a demanding spouse.
If, on the other hand, you take offense at Google’s lordship there is no stopping you or Google from filing for annulment. In this case, you’d better be prepared to sell yourself body and soul. Without Google, you’ll never survive with just one mistress or boy toy.
Now I have to decide if my blog will be a meek wife or a multi-talented adulteress in 2009.

Bloggers with Bling

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I finally met a famous person. For a moment in time, I was within breathing distance of Blogie, a Mindanao blogger so exceptional that fate had decreed him worthy to in turn swap air with WordPress founder and every female blogger’s dream geek charming, Matt Mullenweg. If there is any truth to the new age, self-help, photocopied teaching available in Gullible Alley, my recent association with greatness will prompt the universe to reward me with an equally promising future in the blogosphere.


I guess the positive energies of the universe are taking longer than usual to reward me maybe because it can’t find my tiny corner in its vastness. Either that or the universe doesn’t know enough SEO to give me a lift. Nonetheless, the meeting with Blogie did not disappoint. Surprisingly though, the greatest insight I got from it was not the fact that earning through blogging is more difficult than curing hernia through positive thinking. It was the realization that Cagayan de Oro (CDO) may be missing an identity.


Apparently, there is a big chance that CDO will host next year’s Mindanao Bloggers’ Summit. One requirement is a standard logo for CDO bloggers. We’ve got a fabulous green logo actually but it seems we don’t have the equivalent of Gen San’s tuna and Davao’s eagle on it. Mistress of WordPress themes, ChiQ Montes mentioned that it could be because CDO lacks an identity.



As a Cebuana born in Baguio, ChiQ’s observation seemed accurate to me. My first few years in CDO did not give me a strong sensation of the city’s uniqueness like the scent of Baguio’s pine and the feel of Cebu’s queenship did.



It was only after the meeting concluded that I remembered that CDO did have an identity. Long before it became an adventure capital, long before Emano attached 3Bs to its name (Bloom, Blossom, Boom?), long before it became popular as an open entry port, it was (still is?) the City of Golden Friendship. It is uncertain whether this second name is an intended or an accidental reference to its name, Cagayan de Oro which has a number of translations depending on who you’re asking. It may roughly mean river of gold/ to rake the soil for rocks or gold ore.



Indeed before the city’s hospitality bore a resemblance to the value of gold, CDO’s river sputtered gold. I remember how a former city counselor, who was once my host before I decided to finally live in the city, took gold from the river and fashioned it into two rings, one for him and one for his Visayan bride. When opportunity gave him the chance to leave for an adventure abroad, he gave it up to return to his golden city and his golden friendships.



This is a golden city, a literal and figurative modern El Dorado at the mouth of Mindanao. But because I’m not a creative designer I wouldn’t know how to fit that into a logo. Besides, the gold concept can’t help but bring to my mind CDO bloggers sporting bling bling in gold which is just plain freaky.

*Photo credits to ChiQ, Butiti and that PJoe’s waiter

CDO Bloggers

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I’ve always had people problems. Let me rephrase that. I have a problem with people. I don’t exactly run away screaming at the sight of people— YET, but I do prefer to go solo most of the time. That’s why friends usually get offended when I decline invitations for communal binging and I get wide-eyed stares of surprise from acquaintances when they catch me plying my air conditioned primary residence that is the mall.

But I live in the Philippines where the desire to congregate is many times stronger than other people’s. This is the country where every event that distracts even slightly from routine becomes an excuse to call friends and family for endless rounds of merrymaking. If most people in my circle socialize with painful regularity, I figured that there must be something wrong with me.
It was therefore with tremendous effort fueled by a small desire at achieving normalcy, that I purposefully accepted an invitation to meet fellow bloggers in the city. That was even as I quaked in my shoes at the prospect of meeting real people. But the meeting appealed to me because it had ends other than getting drunk on absurdly expensive buckets of beer. I was told that city groups of bloggers were all the rage in Manila and Davao and that it was about time that Cagayan de Oro had its own.
I arrived early because I did not want to have to stare stupidly at restaurant patrons looking for people who looked like online avatars. So I sat there, every nerve in my body in tiny involuntary seizures either because of the endless cups of coffee I had consumed while waiting or because of the fear that people were coming.
The people who looked nothing like their creepy, cute or abstract avatars eventually came. The most surprising thing about them was that they were all accomplished techno-savvy professionals who had every right to scoff at my newbieness BUT (gasp) they did not bite! By virtue of some invisible force, I blurted some gibberish, succeeded at convincing them that I was amiable and became a part of a group.
I wonder if this makes me normal now.

Career Shift

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That’s it. I need a back up plan. It’s been more than a year and I’m still in my little workspace beside my bed. It hasn’t been for lack of trying. I’ve gotten browner and I’ve lost the soles of my shoes to the heat of concrete pavements, once nearly walking barefoot in an industrial jungle. It was after a hopeful chat with yet another weary executive who probably wished he could’ve swapped soles with me if it meant a moment of freedom from the rigors of his suit and brick cage.

I am about to give up my dream of working in the industry. I’ve been told that unemployment, unhappy employment and poorly compensated employment have become epidemics. Well, I am earning but not just in the manner and place I would have wanted. But I cannot endure in the current exercise of mindlessness which I have had to bear for the sake of survival. Nor can I wait longer for the right industry to have myself enslaved to. I can feel the whiteness invading the roots of my hair. I must act now or I will have a lot of regrets to mull over as I sit on my rocking chair, absently rubbing my tongue over toothless gums. 
I’m thinking of shifting careers. Tell me, is web design and internet marketing really as horrific as I think it is or will I fit right in? There were a few subjects in high school that made my bowels harden and loosen in turns— math, physics, entrepreneurship and computer programming. All required my teachers to close their eyes in pity so their pens could stray and let me pass. But at least I retained some measure of comprehension for the first three subjects. Computer programming however left me comatose and in limbo. From the first day of class to the last, I understood nothing. I wonder how I ever got a numerical grade when the equivalent of nothing is nothing. My teacher must have had her eyes shut really tight or she must have been related to David Blaine. 
I’d like to suspect that it wasn’t really my fault. Am I really such an idiot or did I just have a skunk for a teacher? There’s only one way to find out. If I really am an idiot, my bowel movement will tell me so as soon as I read my first tutorial.
The question is where do I begin?

The War of the Words

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The war of the words has begun. I’m not referring to the pitiful display of escapist eloquence in the farcical senate hearings we are often painfully subjected to. I am referring to verbal hostilities much closer to my turf. It’s the Filipino online writers vs. foreign clients (Ting. Round one. Fight.).

I suppose that Americans have known for quite some time that a lot of the expert technical assistance or the annoying telemarketing pitches they so often get on the other end of their phone lines don’t come from fellow Americans. They come from Filipinos or Indians who have had their dictions mutilated just so they could sound less like Asians and more like some of their clients who can neither tolerate nor understand English spoken in another accent. I wonder though if the westerners know the truth about website contents. Many pieces of information in countless websites are provided too by floating Filipino brains chained to makeshift offices in their provincial homes. 
Before the trend of hiring non-American ghost writers became popular, the rates offered by American clients were part of the stuff Filipino dreams were made of. Articles with 500 words in the good old days fetched a whooping $10 each. There have been however some shocking new developments in recent weeks. A brief look at Craigslist.org, where writers and clients converge to buy and sell services (or to rip each other off), have revealed that many American clients now only offer $1-$2 per article. What happened? 
I’m not sure but I have a theory which I will not share. It is enough to say that perhaps the Americans have finally realized that they have been fools to offer so much for articles that others pay so little for. Indeed, why should they pay a premium for Filipino skills when these skills sell for less than a kilo of fish in our own native land?
Seasoned Filipino online writers have taken offense. Some of them have banded together and have vowed never to give stingy clients in Craigslist any peace. Their preferred mode of attack is the dreaded flagging! Beware oh clients. Offer to pay very little and your job advertisements are guaranteed to reap generous harvests of red flags from offended freelance writers so other writers can quickly give you the middle finger and look for greener pay. 
Naturally, American clients have in turn taken offense. They have retaliated by pointing out the gross grammatical boo-boos of Filipino non-native English writers and the Filipino’s lack of understanding for American culture and internet writing. This is why these clients think Filipinos don’t really deserve to be paid $10 for all the keyword rich trash they are asked to produce for unsuspecting readers on the internet. 
I don’t want to take sides but I have been writing in English since I lost my milk teeth. I do know that hard, manual, hernia-inducing labor is easier than writing. If you want to be in constant mental and physical agony you should try writing. 

Death to Internet Explorer 6

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Every new blogger who bothers to research about blogging before opening a blog will invariably come across the unsolicited advice to opt for a custom template or lay-out. That is an especially good advice if you have an account with Blogger.com. Although the default templates provided are fabulous (I’m only saying this because I don’t know squat about coding and the technical blah, blah that makes some blogs glow despite below the poverty line content) using them would be the equivalent of wearing a Catholic school uniform. You’ll look just like every other classmate with a hair clip, leg-long skirt and black shoes. In short, you are likely going to share a blog design with thousands of other Hilton/Yuga/Gorrell hopefuls.

What’s the matter with a generic blog design or a Catholic uniform? Nothing. It’s just that regular netizens who know enough technical blather to design white virtual boxes and brag about them are likely to high tail it out of your blog at the first sight of a generic design. This is especially true if you are as interesting as a telephone pole. In other words, a nice, unique or flashy design may be your only saving grace— the only way you can attract hordes of disciples to your revolutionary ideas, inverted logic and hyperventilating grammar.
A word of caution though to bloggers who dream of freedom from template uniformity: changing designs is not as easy as copying and pasting a set of codes that rival the complexity of the language of a yet to be discovered alien race. Apparently, different browsers have their own queer ways of reading the technical language that tells them how your blog should look like. In other words, your blog could look fabulous in Mozilla but it could look like it just woke up with a hangover and bad hair in Internet Explorer.
I learned this the hard way after I applied this new design. A couple of my (ahem) loyal followers, or people who just lost their way, have been telling me that in their computers my sidebar overlaps with my text posts. After some diligent, eye nerve-popping research, I found out that the problem is that the design I am using is not compatible with some browsers. I also discovered that a lot of other blogs have the same problem and that the browser that bloggers most often have problems with is Internet Explorer 6 (IE6).
I have tried to the point of constipation to fix my problem or beg others to fix it for me but all I could find are equally incensed bloggers calling for the death of IE6. It is unlikely however that you will ever find the IE6 icon on a block with an axe over it or a noose around it unless you own Microsoft. According to one blogger, IE6 still holds sway over 50% of the browser market. So my dear friends, the lesson is: if you want to change your blog template, always check how it looks in Browshershots.org.
Since my technology IQ is nowhere close to 0.01, I cannot fix this appearance problem myself even if my life depended upon it. I would therefore also like to join the call for the death of IE6. If you want to help me get ahead in my vile, murderous quest, or if you just want to read my posts without getting cross-eyed, do upgrade to IE7 or Mozilla Firefox.

I Blog Therefore I Am

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“But blogging, aside from Perez Hilton and other big time bloggers (you know who you are) is for me a slacker job or a medium and pastime for lonely people to connect. Unless you’re in bloody Siberia or in a Gulag prison, try stepping outside your comfort zone and turn off the laptop or pc, you just might find some real live people to talk to instead of typing away in cyber space.” —Malu Fernandez in Manila Standard Today

Why do I blog?

I blog because

despite certain circumstances showing otherwise, the constitution says this is a free country where freedom of expression is allowed. I have a right to discuss, to debate and to have a say about the things that matter to me and that affect me. Blogging is as legitimate as gathering in the streets to bang on the palace gates and clamor for change. It is as legitimate as speaking from a podium to rouse the sleepy masses. It is as legitimate as writing for a national publication to prompt awareness into action and because we can’t all be fortunate enough to become high society columnists who get paid even for spewing nonsense, I chose to blog. I have the right to my opinion whether you will read it or not.

I blog because

I recognize technology and respect its rightful place in an inevitable future that will improve and reinvent the past but will not repeat it. Although some things will never change, those that will change in the realms of business, communication, education, science and art shall embrace the digital and virtual era as a part and a complement of who and what they are. The virtual world is real and alive. Only those who refuse to broaden their horizons, explore possibilities and leave the comforts of an old age will be left where they are.

I blog because

it is a powerful tool with which to discharge my social responsibility. I know that there are social, political and environmental ills plaguing our reality. I know that there is a need for responsible leadership, social revolution, environmental accountability and activism within oneself. What shall I do with this knowledge? Aside from acting on it, I also have the duty to tell others of what I know and push them to act. Even if only one person realizes some form of truth because of me and decides to be moved, then I would have been justly rewarded. I would not exchange this opportunity to influence for more money than I can count.

I blog because

I have substance. I have a richness of experience that I cannot keep to myself and that cannot possibly be borne out of nothing or out of a false and lonely existence. Writers can only write from experience. If I had lived in the loneliness of virtual isolation, I would have nothing to write about, but even some of those who do live apart from vibrant society, have far clearer insights into life truths than those who claim to own the attention and admiration of legions.

I blog because

I can. I have a skill possessed by many but not by everyone. I will not waste it but far from using it to enrich myself, I will use it first for no other reason than because it is what I do best. I would be a fool to attempt to chart other waters that I do not love when I have been given the gift of words which I do love and the skill to weave them. I am only guilty of using a gift in the only way that it can see the light of day, even if it is only a virtual light. It would be a greater sin to let it rot in my breast because I cannot hawk it in the streets. If by chance I do grow rich because of this skill, it is merely a bonus.

I blog because

I am driven by my creative spirit. Although I respect structure and conventions, I do not have to survive yet under their restrictions. My online passion is yet to be studied, understood and categorized for the benefit of those who must define or those who comprehend only through structures. Today I am free.

I blog because

I bloody hell just want to. It is an interest, an inclination, a desire. It is not a defect or a sign of social retardation. I have nothing against those who stitch crosses all day, those who drink coffee while swapping their neighbors’ dirty linen or those who walk their feet sore going from one window display to another. People should have enough respect not to mind me if I choose to bleed my brains dry over my virtual parchment.

*For Blog Awards Challenge 01