After Sideways

“I‘m a thumbprint in window a skyscraper. I’m a smudge of excrement on a tissue surging out to sea with a million tons of raw sewage... I think it’s Bukowski." – Miles, the failed writer in “Sideways.”

Torn between an afternoon run and watching Sideways while drinking. For days now, I’ve been waiting for some good afternoon sunshine and some adrenaline to be pumped into my lungs. It’s a rush and it’s relaxation juxtaposed: a run in the late-afternoon- getting-really-Christmasey-October air. But how can the inconsistency of human decision fare compared to the irresistible cocktail of gin, concentrated calamansi juice, honey and lemon slices? I slip the perfect movie in the DVD tray, something I’ve longed to see again. Now I’m watching Sideways while having a drink, toasting and laughing with the characters.

Human inconsistency, my frailty, fared wonderfully.

But now I’m sideways. Oh well, we’ll get it straightened out later.

Recurring

Recurring. That’s what’s happening now. Again and again, I weep, I whine, and I witness a happy ending in the middle of my story. What’s happening is an immersion to my own life. It’s been injected with more intimacies dispersing itself daily, ubiquitously. Here, now and elsewhere, every second. Every moment with D., every story, every taste, every shared laugh, every run, every pleasant drive, every chore, every read, every family, friend, every love all around.

I long, inextinguishably, to repeat every moment of my life.

I Am Just Quietly Untamed

Evenflow,
Thoughts arrive like butterflies
Oh, he don’t know
So he chases them away.

Nobody could have expressed our angst better. Not the way Pearl Jam and the grunge music of our generation made whatever absurdity we felt less shapeless. We were on the way to the beach, aboard the bus to Batangas and I was reading Oscar Wao with the grunge playlist plugged in. I heard Eddie Vedder's deep yet screechy voice accompanied by guitar distortion. The lyrics were powerful and furious. With its hidden meanings, it made me understand why the world worked in wayward ways. It made all the Emo music of this generation seem sissy and just cretinous. We didn’t have Google yet back then, but we understood.

And precisely because I understood, I protested. I was young and ready to make world spin in idealized directions. I wanted to change the world’s wayward ways. And then the music grew too loud. I got drunk silly, chased girls, and youth disappeared. I grew up, silencing myself.

Hearing this again now, I understood. I am just quietly untamed.

Short Stabs at Philosophy

One of the tasks of philosophy is to both seek and inspect the creation or discovery of a knowledge-base that is solid (with foundations) and at the same time fluid (with its willingness to agitate those foundations).

Pardon my level of discourse. I'm only peeking out of the cave for a glimpse of that "world of forms."

It's a classic, and you've probably heard the question a million times from students such as me: “Do philosophers really live up to the stereotype of being confined to ivory towers with their brows arched, writing their scholarly volumes?”

Is it the snobbish air hanging around Philosophy which easily dismisses popular culture with a bad reputation, denoting the absence of good foundations? Have we examined at all what purveyors of popular philosophy had in mind? What could Bryan Magee have done differently in his philosophical TV show in BBC, if he should have had one at all?

We live in a time where the information is readily available, if not nearly-effortlessly accessible. While this is good in many ways, the inevitability of information dissemination leaves too many stones unturned. Too many details are left unchecked. "Popularizing" philosophy may easily backfire into misinterpretation or misrepresentation. Even more perilously, popularizing philosophy can lead to intellectual indolence. It can also breed its own monsters and create its own convenient fictions or totalizing narratives. Can we simply describe it as their participation in the beautiful mystery of life in the universe?

Even with so much imprecision, the dispersion of Popular Philosophy will persist. An angsty teenager is likely to look up Nietzsche when he sees "Fight Club" or Schopenhauer when s/he sees "Antonia's Line." A talented artist will call their art "postmodern" and will popularize that philosophy thorough its icons - Warhol-style. Someone will ask, “What are the metaphysical issues expressed in T.S. Eliot’s poetry?” “Is there a touch of nihilism in the lyrics of Radiohead or The Smiths?” Whoever reads Camus' The Stranger will easily warm up to Existentialism.

Our world is understood or misunderstood in many, blended forms of learning. One of the tasks of philosophy is to both seek and inspect the creation or discovery of a knowledge-base that is solid (with foundations) and at the same time fluid (with its willingness to agitate those foundations). Philosophy should be able to clarify concepts, question truth claims, and examine methods - perhaps even in popularized forms. Maybe it's worth the time?

Popular or not, I'd like to believe that Philosophy will reign as the mother of all disciplines. Popular or not, philosophy will prevail. This gives us a little room for excitement - to find out how it’s being played out there, outside its circles.

Remember Wittgenstein's Poker?

I've been following some forums and discussion boards on Philosophy in the University I attended and it's exciting to think that there might be scenes amongst Professors similar to what happened with Popper and Wittgenstein's Poker.

Among us, there are those who lurk quietly and pursue philosophy in our own non-academic ways. We read reviews/discussion boards about recently-published Philosophy books or Philosophy-related books, films, plays or music that show coherence or congruence with certain philosophical ideas, some genuinely exciting philosophical insights and (with a blighted hope) maybe some sense of humor.

Either fortnatately or unfortunately, some of us aren't afforded the privilege of having Philosophy as way of life. Nonetheless, we want to keep on having Philosophy as an influence in our lifestyle choices, or as a lifestyle choice in itself.

The Feeling at the Finish Line

A quiet wave of depression momentarily settles when things come to an end. Like when film credits roll out, you're left with an empty space. This quiet wave of depression told me that without the meaning D. gives me and everything I do, all that running was just a sad waltz with the wind.

Running gives birth to new metaphors and we picked up so many in the finish line. 222 km to 2.22, this wedding path of ours, made us feel enlightened with our plans.

Next time around, in life's longer races, we just know we'll run even stronger.

And on to the next path.

A Lovely Light that Never Goes Out

In fifty days, I'll be spending the rest of me with my wife, who (describing her as she is now, in a day in her life) writes papers on International Development, attends yoga classes or group exercises, enjoys tofu and chocolates, cooks for her family, picks up the best foreign-language pirated DVDs, laughs alone while reading, and hand-crafts these candles for our wedding.

With one gesture, she can make my whole world sparkle with light.

From envelope linings, to place cards or escort cards, table numbers, menu cards, to her choice of table-top flowers, she never ceases to amaze me with how everything she touches becomes wonderful.

In our estimation, the ceremony and reception will only have a maximum six-hour running time. Although the wedding hasn't happened yet, we already have a full stash of memories. For us, this wedding had begun the moment we started planning. We've rehearsed it a thousand times in our minds, and it was sweet as it was splendid.

We've also realized that many things don't go on as planned, and all the rehearsals in the world can't change the fact that fate steers into unexpected turns. But as a quotable quote goes, 'The brightest blazes are commonly kindled by unexpected sparks.'