Hi there. Cirno here.  Sir Joey is indisposed right now, but I put together an extremely hardcore power point slide show for all you kids to enjoy! I hope you’re as hardcore as I am, because THIS. IS. HARDCORE.

*ahem* If you’re a genius like me, you can easily deal with these sissy little sentence diagrams! I’m the greatest, after all.

If you can’t take the heat, then I feel sorry for you.

In any case, do your best, kiddos!

-⑨

CIRNO’S HARDCORE GRAMMAR CLASS (PPTX)

CIRNO’S HARDCORE GRAMMAR CLASS (PPT)

A very helpful link that has more mundane examples: Diagramming Sentences.

While you’re waiting for those downloads to finish (they’re quite big), please watch my Math class too.

Hey kids. Here’s the new set of grammar slides.

RunOns

Watch out for something challenging tomorrow.

It’s been a week since Typhoon Ondoy (Ketsana) whipped Metro Manila and its surrounding regions with the worst rainfall in recorded history. I don’t need to burden you with figures; you can look those up on Wikipedia and the news websites. Let me instead tell you my story.

I had left the house early that morning to take the admission exam for my graduate studies at the Ateneo de Manila. I only thought it would be a regular rainy day; I left my umbrella at home. Since my car was running low on fuel, I loaded up on gas before I drove off to the campus.

When I arrived at  around 7:30 am, the rain had just begun to come down. I managed to walk calmly to the testing center since the rain wasn’t that bad yet. My jacket protected me from the downpour quite well, so I didn’t worry about it.

As I was taking the test, I noticed that the rain outside was only getting stronger and was not showing any signs of stopping. The horrific downpour continued through the morning. Between the half time break and the end of the test, it only seemed to intensify.

The test ended at 12 noon. I decided to go as quickly as I could to my car and go home; the test was exhausting and I just wanted to relax with a good lunch and sleep the rest of the afternoon. Little did I know that I was in for the long haul.

The rain was coming down in sheets. Since I was wearing waterproof hiking boots and my jacket was quite thick, I decided to make a break for it and ran the 200 or so meters to my car through the driving rain.

In hindsight, it was probably not a good idea. While my boots themselves were waterproof, the pools of water splashed up past my ankles as I ran through them and soaked into my socks. My denim jacket wasn’t waterproof and my wool hood was highly absorbent, so the water soaked me through very quickly. By the time I got into the car, the rain was coming down like a madman.

I quickly stripped off my jacket and outer garment. Thankfully my inner shirt was still dry, although my pants were soaked up to my thighs.

As I started my car, I noticed that the line of vehicles headed for the exit was not moving. I remembered that it was the Ateneo Grade School fair, and so they might have ended early due to the horrid rain. I took a cue from the other cars and followed them to a new egress from the parking lot that I had not known of.

Since there weren’t that many cars passing through the exit road, I thought I could get out easily. Or so I thought. I ended up hitting thick traffic that was barely moving. This was unusual; Ateneo rarely experienced a jam of this magnitude. The rain was still coming down in sheets and I could barely see the high-rise condos along the road.

I looked out of the University’s fence and saw that there were cars going in the wrong direction along the Katipunan avenue, and that they weren’t moving. The flood was so deep that the cars couldn’t progress at all. I also noticed that the creek that was flowing along the road had swelled into a raging river.

That was when I did a double take. There was no creek alongside Katipunan avenue. The raging river was Katipunan, and the counterflowing cars were actually in the right lane. Realizing I was trapped, I decided to call my mother and tell her my situation.

My mom knew what was going on and she said that it would be a good idea for me to stay inside the campus first, as the situation was quickly turning bad all over the city. Better for me to stay in the relative safety of the campus than to risk damaging my car in the raging floodwaters. Before I hung up, though, my she gave me another piece of bad news: my brother, who was abroad in Malaysia, had been hospitalized with a fever. He had woken up that morning to find himself unable to move. My father had already booked a flight out of Singapore to see him.

The news was heartbreaking. Despite my brother being the more athletic of us two, he was always the one who ended up getting hospitalized. I was never sick enough to need surgery or hospitalization. Since we were children, I would often find myself at his bedside keeping him company in the hospital. I said a quick prayer for him and returned my focus to driving as the traffic began to move again.

It took me about thirty minutes to get out of the jam and onto University Road, which leads deeper into the campus; I decided to look for a parking spot and get lunch. Unfortunately, the guard at Xavier Hall refused to let me park there to get food at the canteen, so I decided to park at one of the higher-up parking lots and wait there.

I took off my soaked socks and boots for a while and also looked into my backpack to see in what condition my belongings were. My bag was water-resistant so I didn’t expect the rain to penetrate.

Unfortunately, it did. There was some moisture on my laptop, which I quickly patted dry; there was also a small pool of water inside that thankfully did not damage my books. Out everything went.

Trapped, soaked, and slightly hungry, I decided to go ahead and pray.

I thanked God that I had a car and that I was in a relatively safe place. I would learn later that the flood rose so quickly that many people were trapped along the road and had to abandon their cars. I thanked God that my family was safe–mom was at work in a high building, my brothers, father and grandmother were safely abroad, and our house was still untouched by the rising floodwaters. I thanked God that I at least had something to do while waiting; my iPod was fully-charged and I had filled my car with gas that morning.

I then cracked open my Bible and found the following passage:

Psalm 107

1Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good;

his love endures forever.

2Let the redeemed of the LORD say this—

those he redeemed from the hand of the foe,

3those he gathered from the lands,

from east and west, from north and south.^a

4Some wandered in desert wastelands,

finding no way to a city where they could settle.

5They were hungry and thirsty,

and their lives ebbed away.

6Then they cried out to the LORD in their trouble,

and he delivered them from their distress.

7He led them by a straight way

to a city where they could settle.

8Let them give thanks to the LORD for his unfailing love

and his wonderful deeds for men,

9for he satisfies the thirsty

and fills the hungry with good things.

10Some sat in darkness and the deepest gloom,

prisoners suffering in iron chains,

11for they had rebelled against the words of God

and despised the counsel of the Most High.

12So he subjected them to bitter labor;

they stumbled, and there was no one to help.

13Then they cried to the LORD in their trouble,

and he saved them from their distress.

14He brought them out of darkness and the deepest gloom

and broke away their chains.

15Let them give thanks to the LORD for his unfailing love

and his wonderful deeds for men,

16for he breaks down gates of bronze

and cuts through bars of iron.

17Some became fools through their rebellious ways

and suffered affliction because of their iniquities.

18They loathed all food

and drew near the gates of death.

19Then they cried to the LORD in their trouble,

and he saved them from their distress.

20He sent forth his word and healed them;

he rescued them from the grave.

21Let them give thanks to the LORD for his unfailing love

and his wonderful deeds for men.

22Let them sacrifice thank offerings

and tell of his works with songs of joy.

23Others went out on the sea in ships;

they were merchants on the mighty waters.

24They saw the works of the LORD,

his wonderful deeds in the deep.

25For he spoke and stirred up a tempest

that lifted high the waves.

26They mounted up to the heavens and went down to the depths;

in their peril their courage melted away.

27They reeled and staggered like drunken men;

they were at their wits’ end.

28Then they cried out to the LORD in their trouble,

and he brought them out of their distress.

29He stilled the storm to a whisper;

the waves of the sea were hushed.

30They were glad when it grew calm,

and he guided them to their desired haven.

31Let them give thanks to the LORD for his unfailing love

and his wonderful deeds for men.

32Let them exalt him in the assembly of the people

and praise him in the council of the elders.

33He turned rivers into a desert,

flowing springs into thirsty ground,

34and fruitful land into a salt waste,

because of the wickedness of those who lived there.

35He turned the desert into pools of water

and the parched ground into flowing springs;

36there he brought the hungry to live,

and they founded a city where they could settle.

37They sowed fields and planted vineyards

that yielded a fruitful harvest;

38he blessed them, and their numbers greatly increased,

and he did not let their herds diminish.

39Then their numbers decreased, and they were humbled

by oppression, calamity and sorrow;

40he who pours contempt on nobles

made them wander in a trackless waste.

41But he lifted the needy out of their affliction

and increased their families like flocks.

42The upright see and rejoice,

but all the wicked shut their mouths.

43Whoever is wise, let him heed these things

and consider the great love of the LORD.

I realized I had so many things to be thankful for at the peak of the bad weather; after I heard the extent of the damage and saw some of the videos on the Internet, I was even more thankful. I also said a prayer for all of those who were suffering in the horrible weather.  After I prayed I took a look at my books and tried to read.

Eventually, restlessness got the better of me and I went to go take a look at the traffic. The line of cars leading to the exit still hadn’t moved, so I decided to drive over to Bellarmine hall and rest there. I had remembered there was a canteen there, as well as some vending machines. I was able to find a relatively sheltered parking spot and made a run for the building.

I arrived at the canteen just as they were closing up for the day and managed to buy a bowl of hot noodle soup. It wasn’t what I was hoping to have for lunch, but it was definitely great to have when I was all wet and chilly. I had just enough coins to also buy a low-end mocha frappe from the vending machine to keep me awake throughout  the afternoon.

I had heard from other stranded people at Bellarmine that Marcos Highway was already badly flooded and that many houses in the Marikina and Cainta area were being inundated as the rain kept coming down. The line of cars was still not moving, so I decided to stay put for another hour.

I tried to leave the campus twice, but unfortunately the traffic was not budging. At 3:30 pm, I tried to leave one last time, and I saw that the traffic was beginning to move slowly out of the campus. By this time, the creek that crossed under Katipunan avenue had begun to subside, so the floods on the road itself began to drain out. I was soon able to leave the campus.

Initially I had planned to pass Xavierville Avenue and take the Edsa route. However, when I got to Xavierville, it was not moving at all. I then turned back and took a long detour so I could reach the other route through UP. At first the trip was quick and I breezed through Katipunan avenue without much trouble. Then I hit CP Garcia, from whence everything was a crawl. Even when I thought I could avoid the insane traffic along Commonwealth Avenue by taking a detour through Teacher’s Village, I ended up hitting a solid wall of vehicles.

It was beginning to get dark at this point so I used my car’s trip meter and my iPod’s stopwatch to measure my progress. It had taken me 2 hours to move 400 meters.

As we neared the Commonwealth-QC Circle intersection, I realized what was causing the traffic: vehicles were counterflowing along QC Circle into Commonwealth, which wasn’t moving either. To make matters worse, just as I was about to go around the counterflow, the delivery van in front of me collided with an incoming SUV. It took me quite a bit to maneuver out of that pickle, but thankfully the cars behind me were able to give me enough space.

When I finally got around that obstacle, it was smooth sailing until I got to North Avenue, where I immediately turned back after learning that North Avenue was congested because the traffic at the Balintawak cloverleaf was seized up.

I breezed through Quezon Avenue, only to see that the underpass was flooded up to 2 feet deep. I didn’t want to risk passing through, so I turned back once more and decided to see if I could camp out at Philippine Science High for a while. Thankfully I had my ID and the guard recognized me, so they let me stay for a while. After half an hour, I decided to brave the last leg of the trip home.

The Edsa-Quezon Avenue intersection above the underpass was stuck. A bus had blocked the U-turn slot, and the traffic from the intersection all the way to Balintawak was frozen solid. It took a solid 20 minutes before the bus moved out of the way, and even then an SUV almost blocked my turn.  I finally arrived home at 9:15 pm, taking 6 hours to drive what usually takes 20 minutes.

Day 2: The Aftermath

It was the day after that I had learned just how badly other people had suffered. Entire villages that had never experienced flooding before got hit incredibly hard. People had lost their homes. People had lost their houses. Many people were in a bad place.

Pastor Jonathan and my discipler Aumar gave a very good joint sermon on how people saw Jesus—Judas saw him as at best a shallow sense of religion and at worst a source of profit; Mary (Martha and Lazarus’s sister who anointed Jesus’ feet with expensive perfume and wiped them with her hair) saw him as a precious and beloved Lord. Judas’s relationship with Jesus was based on his own wants and led to his own destruction; Mary’s story gave both Jesus and her honor and is now preached wherever the gospel is preached, as Jesus himself had prophesied. Mary gave of herself to her God in an extravagant, humble and self-abandoning manner–by wiping his feet with her hair, she was saying “the worst part of you is better than the best part of me.”

I was thinking about this and eating lunch at a nearly empty Podium. I posted on my Facebook profile that I wanted to find a way to help the people. Soon after one of my friends posted that there was going to be a relief operation at CCF–perhaps the first large-scale relief operation we held there. I was already home when I got her reply, so I wasn’t able to join, but I vowed to help out the next day. And help I did.

Day 3-4: Cheerful Giving

My mom and I went to CCF to help out and pack relief goods. The operation was rather hectic and somewhat chaotic, so it got tiring quickly. Yet we both found the strength to keep at it. It was the first time I had ever volunteered to take part in such an effort, and I really felt the love of God coursing through the place. It was one of the most fulfilling things I’ve ever done.  This continued until the second day.

Day 5: The Stench of Death

Our church organized a group of volunteers who were to go out and help clean houses in the stricken areas. We were sent to Vista Verde to clean the house of an injured church member. Getting there wasn’t easy due to the traffic, but when we got there we saw just how bad it was.

It was a fairly large house, and mud was everywhere. The mud wasn’t the kind you would let your kids play in—it was the consistency of melted ice cream. When we were cleaning out the homeowner’s kitchen, we opened the cupboard to discover that all of the pots and pans within were caked in the thick clay silt that the mud was made of. It was sticky and carried the stench of dead things. Holding in my stomach was more than a little difficult, but we managed by God’s grace.

The most rewarding part of the cleanup operation (apart from the workout it gave me) was listening to the stories of the lady and how she had learned so many lessons from this disaster. I don’t want to preempt her testimony by talking about it here, but suffice to say it made me think about my own tendency to withdraw from other people instead of reaching out.

On the way home, we were greeted with an ominous sight of just how high the water was during flooding. A bus passed us by along the road; it had been stained in the mud of the flood. Chillingly, the mud marks along its sides rose  up to halfway up its door—almost as high as the van we were riding. I later realized that the mud stains on the walls along the roads were of similar height and stretched from Cainta all the way to Marikina. The flood was that extensive and that deep.

As we passed by SM Marikina, we saw how bad the flood’s wake was—the mud left strewn across the mall’s sub-road parking was black and tarry (later I learned that Noah’s Paper Mills’ oil reservoir had spilled into the flood) and covered with garbage. Further down the road, there was a commotion: cars were parked along the side of the bridge overlooking the river.

We were wondering what it was at first until a man passed by our car window making a throat-slitting gesture.

There were corpses floating in the river.

I decided to rest the next day and put together some groceries in preparation for the storm we heard was coming.

Day 5: A Scare

I decided to stay at home to rest and also to look for a good pair of headphones.

Frightening news had come—a new storm was coming, and by all accounts it was predicted to be an incredibly devastating storm: a Category 5 Super Typhoon named Parma. CNN’s weather center had described its rainfall as “tremendous”—not something we’d want after what Ketsana had drowned us in. All weather sources described its area as so large it wouldn’t matter where it would hit—rain would come down all over Luzon again.

To make matters worse, the storm would hit the northern province of Isabela at a bad time—during rice harvest season. My rice grower friend said that if the storm were to hit now, it would destroy the harvest and leave the farmers without income for the rest of the year.

Just I was about to go out at noon, however, a massive downpour began, and it felt a lot like Ketsana’s rampage last Saturday. I cancelled my plans to go out and brought the car into the garage. I even unplugged my Playstation 2 and put it up on a high shelf.

Thankfully the downpour ended after a while, but I learned later that it was enough to cause flooding once more, since the ground had been saturated and could not absorb water anymore.

Day 6: A Storm Is Coming

Parma had been maintaining its strength and forecasts were grim. Prayers were frantic and hoax news (The power company shutting down distribution, the storm being as strong as Katrina, and a “Hyper Typhoon”) spread like wildfire across the Internet and the text messaging networks. While I continued to help out at church I also decided to go home early in order to brace for impact.

At around noon I was happy to see that the weather tracking website I was using had predicted  Parma to weaken and to only graze the northern part of Luzon.

When we got home that evening, Parma was headed straight across the northern Philippines again. I said a few desperate prayers and went to sleep.

Day 7: One Week Later

I woke up early to check the weather trackers. The storm was back on a grazing course, and this time it would only hit the very tip of Cagayan in the northernmost Philippines. It would not hit Isabela and endanger the crops, but would instead just bring rain and wind upon most of Luzon. Most of its rain was falling offshore. The rain that did hit Manila was nothing like what Ketsana had brought.

I went out to buy myself dad’s birthday gift at Eastwood and drove back through the route I took during the Ketsana traffic jam. I realized just how far the total distance of the trip was and indeed how long it took normally.

But things have not gotten back to normal.

Many people remain in evacuation centers and might just become victims of novelty—people thought it would be cool to help out in relief centers, so they did, but when the novelty wears off and regular life calls, the volunteers vanish. Will it be this way? Will the evacuees and survivors be left hanging?

Lessons

I will withhold my opinions on the storm. All I have to share are the lessons.

First of all, I learned to be thankful. I’ve been increasingly bitter about my life lately, but the storm took away all that.

Second, I’ve learned how to give and give cheerfully. While I’ve been okay with giving out of my pocket, what always bothered me before was giving of my time. Now I’ve learned how to be generous with that as well.

Finally, I’ve learned how to cooperate with others. I’ve never been a team player and I’ve often gone my own way, but now I know that the survival of others can depend on how well I cooperate.

Whether you consider this storm the effect of divine judgment or human negligence, I think we all have lessons to learn from it. I pray we won’t have to learn them again.

Howdy. Been incredibly busy and/or uninspired in the past few weeks, so I’ve been rather dead lately.

In any case, here are the slide shows I’ve been using in the past few sessions. I’m uploading these in PDF format to minimize plagiarism. You will need Adobe Reader to view these files.

First Year

Phrases, Clauses and Fragments (includes Coordinators)

Third Year

Sun Tzu’s Art of War: The Balangiga Massacre AOW_01

Art of War 2: The Siege of Jerusalem (1099)

Art of War 3: The Night Attack and Siege Warfare

I typically avoid flaming people on my blog. I just feel that most of the time, it is not a responsible thing to do.

Not so this time. Apparently, Senator Jamby Madrigal had the audacity to use the late President Cory Aquino’s funeral as a campaign platform. Way to turn a celebration of the true essence of democracy into a shameless, self-aggrandizing mockery of the same.

I heard one of my students compare Pres. Aquino to Aragorn—an unlikely figure of hope rising up against a seemingly invincible force of tyranny. Aragorn was succesful, although there were many other evils that he was not able to address. The same could be said for Pres. Aquino. However, I still think she was an outstanding beacon of hope in a time of great darkness, and her legacy is one that can never be matched this side of Eternity.

But Jamby Madrigal had to pass around bracelets with her picture on them. Yellow bracelets.

Read more here.

Like the typical rag man politician (Trapo in the vernacular), Ms. Madrigal decided to cash in on the power of democracy. It was only the sensible thing to do, of course. There are lots of people. Surely the exposure would help her win.

Well, Ms. Madrigal, HERE is a taste of democracy for you.

This was shameful. Inexcusable. Disgraceful. I wish I could say it as eloquently as Tolkien did, so I’ll quote Eomer and his fantastic battlecry:

“Out of doubt, out of dark to the day’s rising
I came singing in the sun, sword unsheathing.
To hope’s end I rode and to heart’s breaking:
Now for wrath, now for ruin and a red nightfall!”

–J.R.R. Tolkien, Return of the King

This woman does not deserve the presidency. She does not deserve any political post. And she’s not the only one.

View the GoogleDoc here.

What does this mean for Sapphire, Ruby and Opal?

-Long Test (The Secret Garden)—August 3

-Project (Book of Me: 1st Chapter)—Due September 4

I will give details in the days to come.

Now looking at the course outline for the first quarter:

1. Review of Parts of Speech

2. Sentence structure: Subject and Predicate

3. Subject-Verb Agreement

4. Present tense: Simple, Progressive, Perfect, Perfect Progressive

5. Elements of Literature

6. Elements of a Novel

7. Basics of a Speech

8. Outlining: Topic, Sentence

9. Expository Writing

10. Elements of a Play

It seems we are done with the first 6 lessons. Not bad for a scant two weeks. We just need to go over the grammar, so I don’t really need to give you more exercises for those. The remaining lessons can be covered in class.

As for the reading selections, we only have to discuss two poems: Stopping By Woods and Richard Cory. As far as I can tell we’ve made good time and we don’t really need to do anything this break.

This is also a good thing, because the school wants you guys to rest in order to avoid getting sick. The only things I will assign you to do are the following:

1. Finish The Secret Garden if you haven’t yet.

2. Study the grammar module again. Pace yourself; you don’t have to read the whole thing every day. Make sure you understand it and if you have any questions, let me know. Again, those who have not gotten the grammar module yet should get it here:

This version is for Microsoft Office 2007

This version is for older versions of MS Office

Please make sure you answer it if you haven’t done so already. You’ve got a lot of time. If you’re done with it already, then enjoy the rest of your break and relax.

This country doesn’t really care about teachers. We can tell this from how much they pay us and how well the government treats us. There’s a mentality that we are somehow the people who can’t really do a damn thing other than rant and pontificate all day. Obviously, these people never had good teachers.

I don’t consider myself an excellent teacher. I don’t think I’m able to inspire every student I handle. There are many reasons why. In the end, though, I do think I try. I make a difference.

Here’s something that my friend Martin gave me.

What Teachers Make, or
Objection Overruled, or
If things don’t work out, you can always go to law school

By Taylor Mali
www.taylormali.com

He says the problem with teachers is, “What’s a kid going to learn
from someone who decided his best option in life was to become a teacher?”
He reminds the other dinner guests that it’s true what they say about
teachers:
Those who can, do; those who can’t, teach.

I decide to bite my tongue instead of his
and resist the temptation to remind the other dinner guests
that it’s also true what they say about lawyers.

Because we’re eating, after all, and this is polite company.

“I mean, you¹re a teacher, Taylor,” he says.
“Be honest. What do you make?”

And I wish he hadn’t done that
(asked me to be honest)
because, you see, I have a policy
about honesty and ass-kicking:
if you ask for it, I have to let you have it.

You want to know what I make?

I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could.
I can make a C+ feel like a Congressional medal of honor
and an A- feel like a slap in the face.
How dare you waste my time with anything less than your very best.

I make kids sit through 40 minutes of study hall
in absolute silence. No, you may not work in groups.
No, you may not ask a question.
Why won’t I let you get a drink of water?
Because you’re not thirsty, you’re bored, that’s why.

I make parents tremble in fear when I call home:
I hope I haven’t called at a bad time,
I just wanted to talk to you about something Billy said today.
Billy said, “Leave the kid alone. I still cry sometimes, don’t you?”
And it was the noblest act of courage I have ever seen.

I make parents see their children for who they are
and what they can be.

You want to know what I make?

I make kids wonder,
I make them question.
I make them criticize.
I make them apologize and mean it.
I make them write, write, write.
And then I make them read.
I make them spell definitely beautiful, definitely beautiful, definitely
beautiful
over and over and over again until they will never misspell
either one of those words again.
I make them show all their work in math.
And hide it on their final drafts in English.
I make them understand that if you got this (brains)
then you follow this (heart) and if someone ever tries to judge you
by what you make, you give them this (the finger).

Let me break it down for you, so you know what I say is true:
I make a goddamn difference! What about you?

So apparently, our first quarter just got shot.

Wait. Not shot. I mean bombarded from space by a series of high-powered particle beams. It’s dead. Gone. Disintegrated. Annihilated. In D&D terms, “this quarter can never again be brought back to life through the use of a raise dead or resurrection spell. Only a wish or miracle spell can bring this quarter back.”

The immediate question is of course what repercussions this suspension will have for us. My simple answer to those who have been asking is this: I don’t know yet. Extra homework? Maybe, I don’t know. When will our test be? No idea.

The teachers will be having an emergency faculty meeting on the morning of Wednesday. Maybe afterwards I’ll know what to do.

What I’ll be doing for now is:

-Practice my drawing

-Continue working on my D&D campaign

-Work out

-Finish Servant of the Shard and probably get started on Promise of the Witch King.

-Get started on Joel Rosenberg’s Epicenter.

-Stay updated and listen to Dr. Ravi Zacharias’s podcasts

I said before that I don’t like giving piles and piles of homework, simply because I don’t like it when I have piles and piles of homework. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you, of course. For now, guys, I advise you to relax, find something to occupy your time, and grow a little. I find that PSHS students often whine about being bored during breaks such as this.

Go ahead and find something to learn (and I don’t mean in the academic sense). Could be a new hobby, a new game, a new book, a new sport, or whatever. People nowadays often think the world owes them entertainment. Heads up, guys. The world doesn’t owe us anything. Let’s be proactive and broaden our horizons.

Oh, that You would bless me and enlarge my territory!

Let your hand be with me and keep me from harm so that I will be free from pain.

The Prayer of Jabez, 1 Chronicles 4:10

About two weeks have passed since PSHS Batch 2009 graduated. I still haven’t said goodbye.

I seem to have lost a lot of my eloquence recently, so I’ll let Angela Aki say it for me.

Here’s a translation of the lyrics:

Dear you,
Who’s reading this letter
Where are you and what are you doing now?

For me who’s 15 years old
There are seeds of worries I can’t tell anyone

If it’s a letter addressed to my future self,
Surely I can confide truly to myself

Now, it seems that I’m about to be defeated and cry
For someone who’s seemingly about to disappear
Whose words should I believe in?
This one-and-only heart has been broken so many times
In the midst of this pain, I live the present

Dear you,
Thank you
I have something to tell the 15-year-old you

If you continue asking what and where you should be going
You’ll be able to see the answer

The rough seas of youth may be tough
But row your boat of dreams on
Towards the shores of tomorrow

Now, please don’t be defeated and please don’t shed a tear
During these times when you’re seemingly about to disappear
Just believe in your own voice
For me as an adult, there are sleepless nights when I’m hurt
But I’m living the bittersweet present

There’s meaning to everything in life
So build your dreams without fear
Keep on believing

Seems like I’m about to be defeated and cry
For someone who’s seemingly about to disappear
Whose words should I believe in?

Please don’t be defeated and please don’t shed a tear
During these times when you’re seemingly about to disappear
Just believe in your own voice

No matter era we’re in
There’s no running away from sorrow
So show your smile, and go on living the present
Go on living the present

Dear you,
Who’s reading this letter
I wish you happiness…

I’ll be honest with you, 09. You were difficult to handle. You were often annoying, loud, and green-minded. But you’re honest people. You’re true to yourself. Continue to be that way. Continue to think out of the box. Keep on believing.

The Lord bless you and keep you;
The Lord make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you;
The Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace.

numbers 6:24-26

It’s a shame that I haven’t posted much this school year despite its…colorful events. In any case, here’s the closing message I gave to my students for this year. The actual speech may differ from the following text, which was just my guide. Begin speech.

I know by now you’re finishing up on your projects. I don’t know how you arrived at your answers yet, but I think it’s only fair that if you have to explore the common threads in all of Asian literature, I should give my own explanation too. I don’t want you leaving third year with a sense of “I learned nothing from Sir Joey.” I don’t now if I was inspiring—probably not. I’ve no illusions of being like Sir Martin or whoever your favorite teacher is. Still, I’d like you to at least remember something. Forget all I’ve taught you. Please just don’t forget what I’m about to say.

Indian lit was very strong on one thing. It was not strong about morality; there was justice, yes, but remember the story of the Mahabharata? The good guys and the bad guys all end up in the same place anyway, because this life is an illusion. No matter what story you look at, however, there is always one thing that is clear: Dharma–sense of having a place in the Universe. You are meant for something, you are meant to do something, you were meant to be by a higher power. There is a destiny for you, a great story of your life waiting to be taken.

But what if you don’t want to believe this? What if you don’t believe the universe was meant to be and that it’s all random? What if you believe that there is no divine authority?

There was this article I read in our own library once. I forget which magazine it is exactly, but I came across an interesting article about the nature of humanity in light of biology.

What do you have a lot on inside your intestines? What helps you digest your food? Bacteria. Microbes, lots of them. The average human body has ten trillion cells, and guess what. Your guts contain more microbes than that Your body is more microbes than it is human. They start multiplying there when you are born. You carry them around you wherever you go. When you die, they consume your body from the inside out. The article I read proposed that maybe, just maybe, humanity evolved only because it was the ideal carrier for bacteria. Talk about being higher life forms. You’re simply a complex, intelligent, self-preserving life-support system for your own excrement.

If you truly have no place in the universe, if there is no divinely-appointed destiny, all you are is a vehicle for the propagation of bacteria. You are a cradle and a vehicle in life, and in death, you’re a snack. Everything you did in life was meaningless, because no matter what you did, you carried bacteria. Your suffering is meaningless, and so is your joy. Your suffering does not hamper your intestinal microbes (sometimes may be caused by them), and your joy simply dulls your senses and takes your mind off your purpose–kind of like in the Matrix, where humans are just batteries for robots and their life experiences are merely fed into their brains so that they don’t perceive reality.

If there is neither destiny nor divinity–whether you’re suffering in Africa or enjoying a hedonistic lifestyle in Hollywood or burying yourself in science or philosophy or religion or video games—all you are is a life support system for your own feces. If you can actually live with that, then well and good. I wonder if people can live with you treating them like the bacteria vessels that they are.

We move on to the second quarter. In China there is a tension between Confucianism and Taoism. One proposed rigid rules, while the other proposed creative non-action. No matter how you slice it, they propose ways of looking at the universe, ways of making sense of life, ways how we should treat each other. Whether you’re strict in upholding Goodness or you’re going with the flow, there is right a way of doing things, there is a sense of morality.

Morality is a sense of right and wrong. But what if we get rid of it? “Sir, I want to do whatever I want. I am free to do whatever I want. Sir, everything is just shades of gray. Everything is right in some way. Being an jerk is fun and makes my day.”

If you throw morality out, it ends up in one of two ways. I take you back two years to your first year readings. What were your second and third quarter novels? The Giver and Lord of the Flies.

In The Giver you have a sense of law and order forced on people, but is there morality guiding that law and order? Emotions are outlawed, procedures are taken to ensure conformity, choice does not exist and freedom is but a bygone thing. There is no compassion in the law; it is but a cold and clear cut system that has predetermined responses to behavior. But why did Jonas escape with a baby? Why did the Giver practically sacrifice himself to allow Jonas to escape? Because even beyond the law, there was a sense of right and wrong that had to be upheld. There was a greater code than the law of society.

Then you go to the opposite extreme. In the beginning, Ralph and Piggy put their rules into place. But then the desire for savagery comes out and it comes to the point where Jack and his hunters—who were ironically choirboys, the ideals of pious innocence—go out and hunt not for survival but for the sake of bloodlust. “KILL THE PIG CUT ITS THROAT SPILL ITS BLOOD” was their battlecry, nay, their law. They started doing things just because. Again there were rules, but this time they were thrown away and their own passions enslaved them. Innocence was lost.

Without morality, whether you go the way of dystopia or savagery, you end up sacrificing your humanity. This goes back to the first point, however. If there is no God, there is no final arbiter of morality, and whatever we can come up with is pointless because it is subjective, based on emotion or feeling or taste. “Oh, kicking puppies is not to my taste, but hacking babies to death is.” That is the kind of morality you will have.

Third quarter. Need I say what Japan’s point was? The material world has an end. It is beautiful and to be enjoyed, but it just vanishes too quickly for us to truly enjoy. It was very clear that the sense of Impermanence is prevalent. We discussed it to death and people even said in their essays that they’re sick of it. But what does Impermanence imply?

Why do the samurai still seek honor even if they know they will die? Why is it that when Emperor Antoku, when he was about to be thrown into the waves by his own grandmother, was comforted with thoughts of the Pure Land? Because there is a yearning for something greater than this life. There is a desire to go beyond what is merely flesh and material, a realization that there IS something beyond it.There is a realization that the world is not enough.

Very quickly now, I’m going to read to you a quote from Malcolm Muggeridge. Although he was from the UK, the editor of Punch magazine, he recognizes that the Western idea of building on the material and the here and now fails utterly.

We look back upon history, and what do we see? Empires rising and falling. Revolutions and Counterrevolutions. Wealth accumulated and wealth disbursed. Shakespeare has written of the rise and fall of great ones, that ebb and flow with the moon. I look back upon my own fellow countrymen, once upon a time dominating a quarter of the world, most of them convinced, in the words of what is still a popular song, that the God who made them mighty, shall make them mightier yet.  I’ve heard a crazed, cracked Austrian announce to the world the establishment of a Reich that would last a thousand years. I have seen an Italian clown say he was going to stop and restart the calendar with his own ascension to power. I’ve heard a murderous Georgian brigand in the Kremlin, acclaimed by the intellectual elite of the world as wiser than Solomon, more humane than Marcus Aurelius, more enlightened than Ashoka. I have seen America, wealthier and in terms of military weaponry, more powerful than the rest of the world put together, so that had the American people so desired, they could have outdone a Caesar, or an Alexander in the range and scale of their conquests.

All in one lifetime, all in one lifetime, all gone. Gone with the wind.

I daresay that while all the empires of the West, built on their foundations of science and materialism have become mighty and have shaken the world repeatedly, they all collapsed on their lack of a sense of what is ultimate, a sense of what is beyond material. While if you look back in history two thousand years at an obscure carpenter from a backwater Roman colony—we still know who He is, and his life’s work—three short years—still works in our midst. Why? Because the foundations of Jesus’ work were in Eternity. Politicized Christianity may have been given all the ridiculous and abusive trappings of Western materialism, but if you look back at what it’s all about—you end up with a simple message of the existence of a loving and just God, who in His desire to reach out to us and make our lives worth living He sent His Son to die in our place and take our punishment so that we would be able to have hope in this dark world. That isn’t a Western thought at all. Palestine is, after all, in the last part of the world we discussed.

By the way, I am not knocking on the West in general. We wear their style of clothes, speak their language, use their technology and their scientific methods. What I am saying is that anything based on what is merely physical–whether it be Western or Eastern–will collapse eventually. It just so happens that most examples of the recent collapses are Western.

This brings us to SW Asia. Whether it be Rustem battling the Deev-e-Sepid or Muhammad Zayn frustrating the Devil, there is a clear thread in all of this: There is a cosmic struggle between good and evil, and we are in the middle of it. We may not be superheroes of epic legends. We may not be men or women of awesome power. But there is a point where we can make a stand to do what is good. There is a point where we can decide that we will uphold a cause or defend the truth.

Again this assumes the sense of divinity. If there is no God, and no spiritual reality, then “Good” and “Evil” are but convenient labels given to comfortable and uncomfortable things. But why is Muhammad Zayn suffering for doing what is right, yet doing it anyway? Why do heroes have to slay dragons and demons? Morality isn’t about comfort and discomfort. In fact, being good is often VERY uncomfortable. What did Dumbledore tell Harry? It’s a choice between what is right and what is easy. Good isn’t easy, but people do it anyway. Heroes fight dragons anyway. Why? Because we are in that struggle whether we like it or not.

All in all, where does this bring us? All four of these traditions presuppose the existence of something greater than ourselves, of a divine being who actually cares. Because of there is no divinity, or there is a God but He doesn’t care, then every single one of these is pointless. Your life and mine have no meaning; we are but accidents that happen to be elaborately-designed and intelligent life support systems for the bacteria in our guts. There is no ultimate morality, no right or wrong; everything is to your taste, because we’re all just carriers for bacteria anyway. There is no hope of anything greater than what is material, and what is material is impermanent and transient. There is no destiny in life; we are not part of anything greater than ourselves, all our struggling is in vain.

Studying is in vain. Working is in vain. Science is pointless because truth has no value, and no matter what discoveries we produce, we are still just bacteria breeding pods that happen to be intelligent.

Literature is in vain, because what point is there in understanding abstract truths when we are worthless vessels for microbes. Loving is in vain, because it is only meant to propagate our bacteria vessels, or maybe protect those bacteria vessels that happen to have some minor sentimental value to us. Your intelligence is useless, because it doesn’t make a difference to the bacteria. Whether you live or you die, whether you’re smart or you’re an idiot, whether you’re a slug or a sponge, a tyrannosaurus or a tiger, or a bunny or a monkey or a man, you’re still just a vector for viruses and food for fungus.

Meaningless, meaningless, everything is meaningless, a chasing after the wind. THAT is what you are left with.

In closing, I don’t totally buy every single philosophy or idea we’ve learn from Asian lit, and neither do you, I’m sure. It’s pretty clear to you what I believe in, I hope, and I wish to share that with you. Whatever the case, I still think the sense of the divine is what Asian literature brings us, and if we do embrace that—not as mindless puritans but as honest, personal believers—we are set free from the prison of being meaningless mobile microbe farms.

God bless you, and goodbye.

End speech.

As a bonus, here’s a couple of interesting satirical poems I heard on one of Dr. Ravi Zacharias’s podcasts. These poems were by the English writer Steve Turner.

We believe in Marxfreudanddarwin
We believe everything is OK
as long as you don’t hurt anyone,
to the best of your definition of hurt,
and to the best of your knowledge.

We believe in sex before, during, and after marriage.
We believe in the therapy of sin.
We believe that adultery is fun.
We believe that sodomy is OK.
We believe that taboos are taboo.

We believe that everything is getting better
despite evidence to the contrary.
The evidence must be investigated
And you can prove anything with evidence.

We believe there’s something in
horoscopes, UFO’s and bent spoons;
Jesus was a good man
just like Buddha, Mohammed, and ourselves.
He was a good moral teacher
although we think His good morals were bad.

We believe that all religions are basically the same–
at least the one that we read was.
They all believe in love and goodness.
They only differ on matters of
creation, sin, heaven, hell, God, and salvation.

We believe that after death comes the Nothing
Because when you ask the dead what happens they say nothing.
If death is not the end, if the dead have lied,
then it’s compulsory heaven for all
excepting perhaps Hitler, Stalin, and Genghis Khan.

We believe in Masters and Johnson.
What’s selected is average.
What’s average is normal.
What’s normal is good.

We believe in total disarmament.
We believe there are direct links between warfare and bloodshed.
Americans should beat their guns into tractors
and the Russians would be sure to follow.

We believe that man is essentially good.
It’s only his behavior that lets him down.
This is the fault of society.
Society is the fault of conditions.
Conditions are the fault of society.

We believe that each man must find the truth that is right for him.
Reality will adapt accordingly.
The universe will readjust.
History will alter.
We believe that there is no absolute truth
excepting the truth that there is no absolute truth.

We believe in the rejection of creeds,
and the flowering of individual thought.

“Chance” a post-script

If chance be the Father of all flesh,
disaster is his rainbow in the sky,
and when you hear

State of Emergency!
Sniper Kills Ten!
Troops on Rampage!
Whites go Looting!
Bomb Blasts School!

It is but the sound of man worshiping his maker.