"In the dark times, will there also be singing? Yes, there will be singing about the dark times." - Brecht

Unbeknownst to strangers who heard him sing in videoke, Crooner KR Guda did not have formal training in music, apart from a brief stint as a bass voice singing "Times of Your Life" during high school. Nowadays, he busies himself writing about politics and culture and studying photojournalism. As a journalist covering human rights issues, he is what can aptly be described by that John Berger quote: "Truly we writers are the secretaries of death." (Thanks to newly-sanctioned poet Teo Marasigan for that one)
Mo'nonymous on Michiko (Reluctantly...
Mo'nonymous on Digging up a half-bu...
achieving happiness
adarna's attic
aparador ni lisa
apartment sa dapitan
awake in the interregnum
bathatula
d adventyurs of brown siopao
essays and other lullabies
grinday
jumpcut
ka-blog!
kapirasong kritika
karl's deviantart
lilypad
luisteodoro.com
malu's blog
mongster's nest
na(g)wawala
necessary agitations
newsroom barkada
over smoke and agitation
prop guide
rebyuhan
silip ni bagwis
the cheeky apartments
the e. san juan jr. archive
the works of edel garcellano
this camera is a curse
to be a woman is to live in a time of war
tonyo
yinsu
today
March 2008
February 2008
January 2008
December 2007
November 2007
October 2007
September 2007
August 2007
July 2007
June 2007
May 2007
April 2007
March 2007
February 2007
January 2007
December 2006
October 2006
September 2006
August 2006
July 2006
June 2006
May 2006
April 2006
March 2006
February 2006
January 2006
December 2005
November 2005
today
March 2008
February 2008
January 2008
December 2007
November 2007
October 2007
September 2007
August 2007
July 2007
June 2007
May 2007
April 2007
March 2007
February 2007
January 2007
December 2006
October 2006
September 2006
August 2006
July 2006
June 2006
May 2006
April 2006
March 2006
February 2006
January 2006
December 2005
November 2005
Murder She Wrought / 23 Nov 05
Little Earthquakes at Roxas Boulevard / 13 Nov 05
Politics, Pop Culture and Leonard Cohen / 22 Oct 05
A Seige of Mendiola / 15 Oct 05
On TV Cops and Lawyers (And On Drawing the Naked Blade) / 12 Oct 05
Arrogance of Writers / 28 Sept 05
Rule of (Martial) Law, Anyone? / 21 Sept 05
Joni's Lonely Road to Freedom / 18 Aug 05
Hindi Basta Gudtaym / 18 Aug 05
Shaping Up Before Shipping (Her) Out / 31 Jul 05
I was in the Office Working the Entire Time Neil Gaiman was in the Philippines / 17 Jul 05
Masa and the Yuppie / 9 Jul 05
A Blogger's Mortal Sin: Infrequent Updating / 2 Jul 05
Beyond Da Vinci (Or the Beginning and End of My Days of Piety) / 7 Jun 05
'Laguardia' of Morality and Status Quo / 29 May 05
Rilke Writes Pimples / 12 May 05
Picking a Fight with the 'great' Sheila Coronel? / 12 May 05
Lurking (A Short Story) / 4 May 05
Ang Katutubo at ang Tubong Sampaloc / 27 April 05
Ay, ay Kordilyera! / 20 Apr 05
Cinema at Divisoria / 14 Apr 05
visited *loading* times
It was the day before the first year anniversary of her daughter’s disappearance. Still, Erlinda Cadapan had not lost hope. Throughout the past year, she had been through hell and back, looking for her Sherlyn in army and police camps, joining mass rallies and prayer vigils, speaking at forums, talking to reporters, politicians and anybody who cared to listen.
“I never imagined that my life will turn out this way, but I am here. I will continue my search for Sherlyn,” she said.
When Sherlyn, fellow UP student Karen Empeno and farmer Manuel Merino disappeared on June 26, 2006, Erlinda, together with Karen’s mother Connie Empeño, sought Karapatan’s help. Both mothers knew of their daughters’ activism – as volunteers for Alyansa ng Magbubukid sa Bulacan (AMB) – but had little knowledge of their politics.
Immediately, Erlinda had to learn to speak publicly about her daughter. She also had to learn about the human rights situation in the country. Overnight, from being a small entrepreneur in Los Baños, Erlinda became a speaker for the cause of desaparecidos. And though she initially did it to look for her daughter, now she has come embrace human rights advocacy.
“While we were looking (for Sherlyn), I came to understand what the activists are fighting for. They are not bad people. What they say are true and they do work that the government fails to do in the countryside,” she explained.
Early in the morning of June 25th, she was off to Balanga City, Bataan to once more look for Sherlyn. With her were Karapatan officer Fr. Dionito Cabillas, IFI, Desaparecidos spokesperson Ghay Portajada, Health Action for Human Rights’ Dr. Reggie Pamugas, Commission on Human Rights representative Dr. Jay Jimenez, some supporters and relatives of other desaparecidos, and this writer.
Erlinda had strong reason to be in Balanga. Trusted sources saw Sherlyn exiting a Philippine Army camp in the city in December 2006 and entering it in January 2007. She was said to be two months pregnant at the time of her abduction. Erlinda believes her daughter probably already have given birth between December and January.
“Now it is not only my daughter who is hostaged by the Army. Probably, my grandchild, too,” Erlinda quipped.
The office of Balanga’s city mayor, Melanio Banzon Jr., a local career politician, was her first stop. In her searches throughout Bulacan and Central Luzon, Erlinda had come to know the unwritten protocols and processes in conducting such high profile searches. Most searches for missing activists are started with a courtesy call to the mayor. Both for their own sake and the searchers’.
As turned out, Mayor Banzon was out of town, but his assistant referred Erlinda to the local police station, who then accompanied the group to the Bataan Provincial Philippine National Police (PNP) headquarters in the city.
“You have to understand, the police protocol is different from the Army protocol,” explained Police Superintendent Mario Lopez Jr., the province’s deputy police director, after Erlinda asked if she could visit the militar camp of the Army 24th Infantry Battalion. “Even our officers here can just enter their camps. We have to get clearance from their higher ups.”
It was as if Lopez was complaining as much as he was trying to explain the situation to Erlinda. He had the rank equivalent to the Army’s colonel, but he still had to ask permission to the camp’s officer, one Lt. Garsuta.
The group then proceeded to the 7th IB Army camp a few kilometers away from tne PNP headquarters, with Erlinda asking the stationed soldiers to allow us to enter. To the surprise of everyone, most of all Erlinda, the group was easily allowed in, ushered in, that is, to a cottage far away from where the offices and troops – and probably detained activists – were.
The most senior officer present in the camp was Major Segundo Metran, who looked strangely familiar. He is executive officer (Ex-O) of the camp and second in command to Lt. Col. Felipe Anotado, who was away at the time. Metran was surprisingly cordial, though obviously uneasy at the fact that he had just let in a group his organization had resolutely called “communist” and therefore “the enemy”.
“I may get in hot water for this,” said Metran. Erlinda, too, was uncharateristically apologetic for the trouble the group may have caused the officers, yet proceeded to ask in a rather circumspect way if the soldiers had chanced upon her daughter. Metran, understandably, was equally circumspect, launching into a lecture on why Karapatan had been “banned” in Army camps for “looking for people that are missing, those civilians fighting the government.”
Metran then waxed eloquent about his vision for the country, where “those advocating democracy” and “those pushing for communism” can mingle freely and people can freely choose which side they prefer. “If you like communism, then go with the communists. If you like democracy, then go with those preferring democracy. It should be simple as that,” he said, without the tinge of irony.
“I am a rebel, too,” Metran explained, because he went up against a military hospital who refused to admit his son who was sick and almost died. He was close to filing a case against the hospital, he said, which would mean giving up his military career because in military they are not allowed to complain.
One guesses that it was his way of eliciting pity from an otherwise hostile group. He was a rebel, he said, but he cannot go beyond the “rule of law”. He had to go by the “process”. He was first and foremost, a uniformed man, whose allegiance lies in his organization “all the way up to the President”.
This writer pointedly asked Metran: “Can you, sir, categorically say that Sherlyn Cadapan is not in this camp nor was she ever here?” To which he once again circumpsectly answered: “We cannot say that she was here or not…because my companions (in the Army) may get in trouble.”
Metran advised Erlinda to look for Sherlyn in Army camps whose troops operate in Bulacan, where her daughter and Karen and Manuel were abducted. “Try 56th IB,” said Metran, again without the slightest hint of irony. Erlinda, of course, had been to the 56th IB camp, as she had been to every other camp in Bulacan for the past year. 56th IB also gained notoriety for being accused – with the help of witnesses – of abducting Jonas Burgos last April 2007.
Before going back to Manila, the group decided to pass by Bulacan to see about a woman who had personally seen Sherlyn. Cora (not her real name), said to be Sherlyn’s mother-in-law, was recently paid a visit by Sherlyn, escorted by two men and two stern-looking women. Sherlyn said she was there to get some clothes and said nothing more. Before leaving, one of her bodyguards said to Cora: “Don’t involve yourself in this. It will only get you into trouble.”
Since then, Cora has been continually visited by soldiers asking about Sherlyn’s husband. Neighbors observed the presence of suspiscious-looking men near her house. Cora feared for her safety, but nevertheless told Erlinda about the incident. “It bothers my conscience,” said Cora. “But I also fear for myself and my family.” She gave to Karapatan her sworn statement but still fears to come out publicly about the incident.
“I understand, of course, why you have to do this,” Erlinda told Cora. “But you have to take extra precautions because the military knows for sure that you are talking to us.”
Erlinda and the group left Bulacan with greater hope of finding Sherlyn, Karen and Manuel. But for Erlinda, it has now become much more than just finding her daughter.
Orapronobis is one of my favorite films of all time, and not just because of it's theme. It is one of the rare films that truly angered me. Brocka's disillusionment with post-Edsa 1 "democratic space" was so felt throughout the film -- the story was a loud wail of indignation coming from a man who deeply and truly believed in the promise of Edsa but was betrayed.
Here is an article in Pinoy Weekly that tackles one "film" that is an affront to the memory of Lino Brocka and everything that he stood for:
‘Pelikulang’ yumuyurak sa alaala ni Brocka
mula sa Pinoy Weekly
Hunyo 6-12, 2007, vol. 6 no. 21
Michelangelo Buenaobra
NOONG Mayo Uno, sa kilos protesta ng mga manggagawa sa ilalim ng KMU (Kilusang Mayo Uno), isang di-kilalang grupo ang nagpamudmod ng VCD. Ang laman nito, isang “pelikula”. Ang bida, si Bembol Roco. Tampok rin si Hero Bautista, ilang mga pamilyar na mukha na character actors sa showbiz, at ilang mga artista sa teatro. Ang tema, ang KMU at ang koneksiyon diumano nito sa Partido Komunista.
Hindi na bago ang mga alegasyon ng pelikula. Kasama sa alegasyong madalas na nating naririnig – kadalasan na nagmumula sa gobyerno – ay ang bintang na prente ng komunista ang KMU at iba pang mga militanteng organisasyon, na itinutulak ng KMU ang mga manggagawa sa kapahamakan, na nakasasama sa ekonomiya ang mga adhikain ng militanteng alyansang ito. Pero ang bago sa pelikula ay ang paglahok ng ilang mga artista sa paninira sa KMU.
Sa totoo lang, malinis ang pagkakagawa ng pelikula. Ala-indie film ito. Bukod sa magaling na pagkakaganap ng mga propesyunal na artista, mukhang di naging problema ang pondo. Kumpleto ang disenyo ng set. Maraming ekstra. Mahusay ang lighting. May sapat na kaalaman ang scriptwriter sa pagpapaigting ng drama ng eksena. Propesyunal ang pagkakadirihe. May akses ang mga maylikha sa pagsu-shoot sa isang pabrika. May akses din sila sa kagamitan at sasakyan ng Southern Police District ng Philippine National Police.
Sinumang nakakapanood ng pelikula ay mahihiwagaan sa kawalan ng credits o kahit pamagat nito. Kung lehitimong pelikula ito, bakit ayaw magpakilala ng mga gumawa nito? Bakit ayaw magpa-credit ng mga artista sa kanilang pinaghirapang trabaho? Bakit hindi nagpapakilala ang prodyuser, manunulat, direktor?
Sa tema ng pelikula ang kasagutan sa lahat ng ito. Lantarang black propaganda sa KMU at sa kilusang progresibo. Nagsimula ang kuwento sa isang manggagawa sa pabrika na nagreklamo sa kanyang amo hinggil sa planong pagbabawas ng oras ng kanilang trabaho. Nakita ng ilang kapwa manggagawa (na di malao’y pinakilalang miyembro ng Partido Komunista) ang potensiyal niya na mamuno sa unyon. Samantala, isang nangungunang kadre ng Partido Komunista ang bumaba mula sa kabundukan para tumulong sa pagtatag ng unyon.
Sa kuwento ng pelikula, bihasa sa manipulasyon ang mga komunista: sa pag-uudyok sa lider-unyonista na magwelga, sa pagpapaalab sa damdamin ng mga ordinaryong unyonista, at maging sa pagmamanipula ng “datos ng pagsasamantala” ng kapitalista para galitin ang mga manggagawa.
At dahil nga sa mga komunista kung kaya sumiklab ang welga sa pabrika. Sa piketlayn, ipinasiklab ng isang manggagawang komunista ang karahasan nang agawan niya ng baril ang guwardiya ng pabrika at binaril ang guwardiya. Sa isa ring eksena, binato ng isa pang komunista ang sasakyang papasok sana sa pabrika, na ikinamatay ng drayber nito. Sa isa pang eksena, pinasabog pa ang sasakyan ng kompanya. Tunay na marahas at malupit ang mga komunista, para lamang masunod ang adyenda nila.
Sa huli, nagbigo ang welga. Nagsibalikan ang mga manggagawa sa trabaho. Naiwan ang iilang ahitador, kasama ang lider-unyonista. Nang huling sumiklab ang karahasan sa piketlayn, namatay sa stampede ang naturang lider-unyonista. Wala ni isang kasamahan sa mga komunista ang nakiramay sa burol niya. Samantala, ang ilang ahitador at nareklutang manggagawa mula sa unyon at sumama na sa kadre ng Partido Komunista para umanib sa New People’s Army.
Sa pagtingin ng pelikula, tanga at napakadaling maloko ang mga manggagawa. Sentimental at emosyonal sila, at madaling madala ng mga propaganda ng mga komunistang mahuhusay magsalita. Siyempre, hindi na natin kailangang sabihing napakalayo nito sa katotohanan. Hindi madaling lokohin ang manggagawa. Kung nadadala man sila ng argumento (ng “propaganda”), ito ay dahil nakikita nila ang katotohanan sa mga ito.
Walang pinalampas na sitwasyon ang pelikula para direktang ikonekta ang NPA sa KMU: ang kadreng nagpapasumpa ng mga rebelde ay siya ring nagtatatag ng unyon. Sa isang eksena, ipinapaliwanag pa ng kadre kung paano kumikilos ang KMU at iba pang militanteng grupo para suportahan ang armadong rebolusyon ng NPA. Kung sinuman ang nagsulat ng pelikula, siniguro niyang walang maiiwang duda sa isip ng manonood na prente ng komunista ang KMU.
Si Bembol Roco ang gumanap na kadre. Kilala nating napakahusay na artista ni Bembol, at mahihinuha ito sa pelikula. Pero nakapagtataka kung bakit niya papatulan ang isang pelikulang tulad nito. Kamag-anak ng dating senador na si Raul Roco si Bembol. Pero maaga sa kanyang karera ay namulat na siya sa progresibong pelikula, salamat sa pagkadiskubre sa kanyang talento ni Lino Brocka.
Dati na ring napagbintangang komunista si Brocka. Progresibo mag-isip si Brocka, at gumawa ng ilang sa pinakamahuhusay at probokatibong pelikula sa bansa. Pinag-initan siya ng diktadurang Marcos, at pinigilan ang mga pelikula na ipalabas.
Kabilang sa mga pelikula ni Brocka ang Orapronobis at Kapit sa Patalim. Marapat lamang na muling balikan ni Bembol at mga kasamahang artista ang mga pelikulang ito. Tinalakay kasi sa Orapronobis ang tunay na ugat ng patuloy na pagrerebelde ng NPA. Hindi simpleng pag-uudyok ng mga komunista kung kaya may mga nagrerebelde. Kawalan ng hustisya sa lipunan, lantarang kahirapan at panunupil, at patuloy na pagsasamantala ng iilan sa malawak na bilang ng mga mamamayan ang itinuturo ng pelikula bilang ugat ng rebelyon. Sa Kapit sa Patalim, ipinakita ni Brocka ang pagsasamantala sa mga manggagawa. At kung papaano, sa desperasyon ng obrerong ginigipit, ay napipilitan siyang gumamit ng karahasan.
Sa dulo ng pelikula ni Bembol, nakalagay ang salitang “WAKAS” pero sinundan ng question mark. Marahil ay may balak pa silang sundan ng Part 2. Huwag naman sana. Huwag na sanang pumayag ang mga artistang tulad ni Bembol na lalo pang yurakan ang alaala at adhikain ni Brocka.