The Tale from Chicken Shit

Many years ago, perhaps before high school, I found this book in a cousin's room entitled Chicken Shit for the Soul. Curiously, I scanned its table of contents, picked an interesting story title and read the story. It haunts me to this very day...

Honor Code

Grade one ako noong binitiwan ko ang natitirang kasinungalingang na hindi ko pa rin inaaming kasinungalingan hanggang ngayon. Dahil kay Freud, hindi ko alam kung maniniwala sila sa'kin kung sasabihin ko ang totoo.

Bakit Pinalayas ni Sarah si Hagar?

During a very rare, accidental biblical discussion, my mother asked me that question. She supplied an answer that I didn't remember reading so I looked it up. Genesis 21:8-13. In different translations.

Si Ileng at ang "Marshmallow Test"

May mga college students na nag-experiment sa'min nung grade one ata o grade two. Habang klase, pinapunta kami doon sa guidance office na maraming laruan sa dating building ng kinder, one at a time. Hindi ko maalala kung may sinabi yung experimenter na secret lang namin yung pinagawa. Parang may ganoon. May sense kung may ganun.

Pagdating doon sa dating guidance office na maraming laruan, una kong napansing nag-iba yung ayos. Pinapasok ako nung babae sa isang enclosed na bahagi ng room na ang laman lang ay isang mesa, isang upuan, at yung blackboard na nakadikit sa dingding. Doon sa mesa, may nakapatong na bell-- yung bell sa mga diner sa TV-- at school supplies: lapis, eraser at sharpener ata. Parang may ruler pa. Hindi ko na maalala. Tapos tinanong ako nung babae kung ano yung pinaka gusto ko doon, at yung least kong gusto. Hindi ko maalala kung anong sagot ko. Basta sabi niya, may kukunin lang siya sa labas ng kwarto at antayin ko siya. Kapag naantay ko siya, makukuha ko yung pinaka gusto ko. Kapag ayoko na maghintay, i-ring ko daw yung bell pero ang makukuha ko ay yung least kong gusto. Tapos umalis na muna siya.

Ako naman na walang kamalay-malay ay nag-antay lang habang naririnig ko yung plastik na kumakaluskos sa side ng room na hindi ko nakikita. Yun siguro yung babae. Kung anu-anong pinaggagagawa ko nung napagod akong umupo. Kinausap ko yung sarili ko. Tumayo ako sa upuan. Inabot ko yung blackboard. Nagpanggap akong teacher. Tinitigan ko yung parang malabong salamin na nakadikit sa parang divider. Hinawak-hawakan ko yung mga nasa table pati yung bell. Nangulangot. Nagtataas ng palda. Sumayaw. Nagkamot-kamot. Nagpanggap akong si Jenny na buhat kunyari ni Eugene. Sa huli, nakuha ko yung gusto ko.

Naaalala kong nangyari rin sa araw na iyon (pero hindi ko maalala kung nauna ba ito o yung pagiging subject ko) ay yung narinig ko si Ileng na nagkukwento sa mga kaklase namin na hindi ko maalala kung naging subjects na rin. Sabi ni Ileng, pinagpalit niya daw yung pinaka gusto niya at yung least na pinaka gusto niya para hindi na niya kailangang maghintay nang matagal para makuha ang gusto niya.

Napagtanto ko makalipas ang ilang taon na baka two-way mirror pala yung salamin.

Diachronic and Synchronic Consistencies

When I first read Ralph Waldo Emerson's Self Reliance, his rejection of consistency bothered me. It made sense but it didn't feel quite right. He says,

The other terror that scares us from self-trust is our consistency; a reverence for our past act or word, because the eyes of others have no other data for computing our orbit than our past acts, and we are loath to disappoint them.

But why should you keep your head over your shoulder? Why drag about this corpse of your memory, lest you contradict somewhat you have stated in this or that public place? Suppose you should contradict yourself; what then? It seems to be a rule of wisdom never to rely on your memory alone, scarcely even in acts of pure memory, but to bring the past for judgment into the thousand-eyed present, and live ever in a new day. In your metaphysics you have denied personality to the Deity: yet when the devout motions of the soul come, yield to them heart and life, though they should clothe God with shape and color. Leave your theory, as Joseph his coat in the hand of the harlot, and flee.

A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines. With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do. He may as well concern himself with his shadow on the wall. Speak what you think now in hard words, and to-morrow speak what to-morrow thinks in hard words again, though it contradict every thing you said to-day. — 'Ah, so you shall be sure to be misunderstood.' — Is it so bad, then, to be misunderstood? Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Socrates, and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh. To be great is to be misunderstood.

My first contentions were on it's implications on knowledge. Concern for consistency is not just some silly obsession with public image, it is also a check for truth-value, and a check against hypocrisy. But then, he supposes

no man can violate his nature. All the sallies of his will are rounded in by the law of his being, as the inequalities of Andes and Himmaleh are insignificant in the curve of the sphere. Nor does it matter how you gauge and try him. A character is like an acrostic or Alexandrian stanza; — read it forward, backward, or across, it still spells the same thing. In this pleasing, contrite wood-life which God allows me, let me record day by day my honest thought without prospect or retrospect, and, I cannot doubt, it will be found symmetrical, though I mean it not, and see it not... We pass for what we are. Character teaches above our wills. Men imagine that they communicate their virtue or vice only by overt actions, and do not see that virtue or vice emit a breath every moment.

There will be an agreement in whatever variety of actions, so they be each honest and natural in their hour. For of one will, the actions will be harmonious, however unlike they seem. These varieties are lost sight of at a little distance, at a little height of thought. One tendency unites them all. The voyage of the best ship is a zigzag line of a hundred tacks. See the line from a sufficient distance, and it straightens itself to the average tendency. Your genuine action will explain itself, and will explain your other genuine actions. Your conformity explains nothing. Act singly, and what you have already done singly will justify you now. Greatness appeals to the future. If I can be firm enough to-day to do right, and scorn eyes, I must have done so much right before as to defend me now. Be it how it will, do right now. Always scorn appearances, and you always may. The force of character is cumulative.

My apprehensions lessen with the consideration of time frame. I imagine two notions of consistency: diachronic and synchronic. Diachronic consistency is consistency through time--  the past word and action matches those of the present. Synchronic consistency is consistency across time-- the present word matches the present action. Emerson, thus, is not entirely against consistency--just diachronic consistency. A hypocrite is not one who changes beliefs through time. We all go through that. It is the nature of human identity. A hypocrite is one whose actions do not match what he claims to believe. Thus, synchronic inconsistency.

My other apprehension has something to do with the assumption of character. Emerson seems to regard all characters as equals so long as they are self-reliant. I am not quite convinced... yet.

My Favorite Cartoon/Anime 6/11/00

Mahilig akong magsulat sa mga notebook na ginamit sa klase pero hindi naubos. Galing ito sa notebook ko nung kinder. Maraming drawing, may mga bugtong, may inventory ng mga baon ng pinsan ko, listahan ng mga pagkaing hindi ko alam kung para saan, attempt ng isang short story, sample sentences, transcription attempt ng Kaharian ng Araw, at listahan ng mga pinapanood kong cartoons/ anime. Ito yung huli.