Sex is good; we should have plenty of it, three times a week. To Dad and Mom, Mother Superior and Father Confessor, to all the Rene Josef Bullecers in the world, sex is the ultimate pleasure and what a waste of time it is every time you and your church try to convince us otherwise.

Now, readers, you got there two paragraphs contradicting each other to start this article with, the better to please all of you.

Sex sells because it can be anything to anybody. In the news business, sex can be good news today and bad news tomorrow. Either way, it sells. In today’s newspaper issue, sex drives a lover to blow his girlfriend’s brains out before turning the gun on himself. Tomorrow, sex will be a drug that boosts self-esteem. Sex is about a man of the cloth molesting a minor today, and tomorrow it will be a couple’s well-kept secret to a happy marriage.

Sex was bad news a few weeks ago when surveys (or interpretations of them by some media outlets) portrayed the country’s call centers as the new Sodom and Gomorrah, complete with state-of-the-art equipment, cozy lounges, and dimly-lit smoking rooms. Call center agents were portrayed as sex-crazed youth fresh from college who scream their orgasms out in falsely accented English.

“What’s the big deal?” an exasperated friend said while listening to yet another TV report about sex in call centers. “Asa’y balita ana (Where’s the news there)?”

She’s right. Those call center agents are not kids anymore. Who are we to stop them if they want sex right this very minute and here in this little corner where they have coffee? Can we stop them if that’s how they cope with stress? Who can deny the power of sex as natural stress reliever? And would the results be different if those surveys are conducted on young people working nights as portable toilet cleaners? Who knows, young fresh-from-college portable toilet cleaners are doing it inside portable septic tanks, too.

For sure, like any respectable industry, BPOs (business process outsourcing) have sex-related company policies, which they can post in every wall space available inside the building. “Sex Not Allowed Here.” Or, “Sex Is The Only Effective Stress Reliever That Ain’t Allowed Here.” Or, “Coffee and Yosi Only – No Sex.” Or, “Sex Can Cause Blindness.” Or something like that.

BPOs can fire anybody violating this policy anytime. But give it a month or two, the same call center agent will find himself violating the same policy in another BPO agency. As you said, they’re all sex-crazed, right?

I mean, hey, we’ve all been there, done that, right? You know you don’t need to have a six-digit pay to take a hottie to bed, right? Besides, it’s not fair to our friends in the BPO industry. Call them sex-crazed if you want – and I swear I won’t have anything to do with you – but when they’re not having sex, these young people contribute big-time to the country’s economy. So, chill.

What? No, “Sodom and Gomorrah” is not an 80s band.

( By Insoy Niñal for Sun.Star Cebu )

If it happens in Pinamungajan–or Timbuktu, or Ittoqqortoormiit, Greenland–it happens everywhere.

The task force should be handled not by policemen or NBI agents but by musicians, particularly lyricists. You call the police or the NBI when it’s about drugs, or alcohol, or guns, or Joavan Fernandez. But when it’s about videoke violence, call the songwriter. Unless our law enforcement institutions include “Lyrics as Cause of Violence” in their training, drug raids and checkpoints will never solve videoke killings.

This is Google Research I’m talking about, the most reliable source of information for very serious researchers, like college freshmen and humor columnists. My comprehensive Google research told me video killings are intimately linked to the lyrics of the song that caused the fight. Take “My Way” for example.

A dozen articles dissecting the lyrics of “My Way” crop up when you google “videoke killings.” If you think I’m making this up, here’s an excerpt: “The number of killings connected to singing of the song (My Way) may simply reflect its popularity in a violent environment…The song’s ‘triumphalist’ theme might also be a factor.”

“The lyrics of ‘My Way’ increase the violence,” the study continues. “The lyrics evoke feelings of pride and arrogance in the singer, as if you’re somebody when you’re really nobody…It covers up your failures. That’s why it leads to fights.” The typical Filipino irritates.

It makes sense. Remember the last time you went videoke-ing with your friends, and there’s this guy in the next table singing “Making Love Out of Nothing at All” with all the braggadocio he could muster and you were so damn annoyed by it? Of course you don’t blame the lyrics. “I know just how to whisper/ And I know just how to cry/ I know just where to find the answers/ And I know just how to lie” is down pat annoying but only because you hate Air Supply to begin with.

You want to blow Hitchcock and Russell and their legion of fans to smithereens, not that drunk in the next table. And we’re not talking about the Bee Gees yet.

Now, imagine that same guy screaming, “For what is a man? What has he got? If not himself–Then he has naught…The record shows I took the blows. And did it my way.” Man, that guy’s annoying!

In fairness to Sinatra, he didn’t write “My Way.” It was Paul Anka, who re-wrote it from the original French, which he described as “a bad record, but there was something in it.” That “something” is murdering videoke singers all over the country. Creepy.

The Pinamungajan incident offers an additional twist to the videoke rage phenomenon. The song is not “My Way,” thank God, but Fred Berame’s Cebuano classic “Samtang May Kinabuhi.” In the context of the videoke rage in the country, the song sounds equally creepy.

No, we won’t dissect Berame’s lyrics right now. We’re running out of space. Besides, I hear somebody singing “My Way” at the videoke bar outside, and I have a mission to fulfill. Give me that gun now.

By Insoy Niñal
Sun.Star Cebu, July 20, 2010

Matahum Nga Cebu

ian zafra wrote in his blog my favorite sins:

“Insoy is now co-host with DJ Ram in Smash FM.

Andoy Calope is doing well with his acoustic poetry.

Tsinelas Association Inc. offering informal education on creative works not completely offered in the academe through charity based workshop series.

Creative Cebu and DTI had just finished its roadmapping exercise. The music sector is recognized as one of the most active and gaining better visibility.

Sonic Boom’s making occasional comebacks to Cebu.

Jude Gitamondoc is nurturing his song blogging community.

Rescue A Hero is giving out original music freebies. Undercover Grasshoppers is now doing the same.

Cattski launched their 3rd album in March this year. The Line Divides will be launching their first this month, next week.

To appreciate what’s going on in the local music circuit, the general rule here is to agree that we are all moving constantly. As to where we still have to find out. The ‘how’ factor is up to you… and us. Keep things in a learning curve and it’s going to be fine. There’ll be more to come.

The Cebu music scene is as healthy as it ever was.”

I think it’s time to go pop now. Sorry band mates. You have Jude Gitamondoc to blame.

(more pop fotos here )

CEBU’s art scene is probably one of the most alive in the country today, with local musicians, painters, filmmakers, photographers, poets, writers and other artists churning out works like their lives (not livelihood) depended on it.

They are not difficult to find. Check out places like Kukuk’s Nest, Turtle’s Nest, Handuraw, The Outpost and other similar holes and they are there, guzzling beer, discussing Kant, rehashing jokes, plotting revolutions, or simply staring at empty space.

They are many, if you consider how Cebu is just a small community. And their number is growing, with more and more artists from neighboring provinces in the Visayas coming here in search of soul mates and a place to call home.

They may not be a tight, first-name-basis community but they are a sharing group, with disciples of one form of art sharing tables with those of another form of art. They know their works complement each other, so they pass art around, like glass in a tagay session. They have a word for it: collaboration.

In many occasions, the sharing comes in the form of seminars and workshops: veterans guiding neophytes, or wannabes inspiring has-beens (it doesn’t matter) – both ensuring that the art scene lives at least a generation longer.

They may not know it, but the generosity local artists are showing to each other is what keeps Cebu’s art scene going.  (By Jimi Stuart Salvador)

PHOTO BY ARCHIE UY, NU107 Cebu relaunching, july 2009

naporma na ang reading center sa colonia central elementary school sa lungsod sa tuburan. salamat sa tanang mi-donate og books ug ubang materials nga mabutang sa reading center. dako kaayo ang tabang nga inyong nahatag para sa eskuylahan ug sa mga bata.

for last wednesday’s visit to the school, tsinelas also tied up with consolacion’s our lady of joy learning center headed by mary rose villacastin maghuyop in giving reading appreciation seminar to the kids.

MORE FOTOS HERE HERE HERE.

WHY I’M WITH LUDABI

When national televisions air prime-time shows that use mixed-up languages and vernacular, some raise a concern.

No, they are not as exacting as stern conservatives are. They too agree that language must journey with the times, albeit cautiously and consciously. They just want their language, which their forefathers used to tell their tales, to be free from whimsical bastardization.

Cebuano is a language spoken by about 20 million people making it the most widely spoken member of the Visayan languages. It is named after Cebu, the Philippines’ second largest metropolitan. To say, Cebuano is a language used by a people whose cultural and historical significance transcends far beyond recorded history. But Cebuano, just like many languages suffers from misuse and “bastardization,” as former Cordova Mayor Arleigh Sitoy, Cebuano language champion.

“True, we cannot deny that the Cebuano language too must evolve with the time so as to remain useful and relevant. But we cannot just allow it to be bastardized by unconsciously changing its grammar or mixing it with other languages or vernacular that ultimately destroys its otherwise beautiful cacophony,” Sitoy said. Think about funny cellular phone messages.

“However we should not also become too purist about it because we might alienate younger speakers,” he furthered.
Now springing back to full health, Sitoy, the national president of the Lubas sa Dagang Bisaya (LUDABI), takes it upon his shoulder more persistent than before to let the Cebuano language flourish.

A year ago, Sitoy suffered from a severe stroke that ultimately affected his functions as president. And without a helm, LUDABI, entered a period of dormancy.

“Now, I’m challenged to take on the job I have committed myself to do,” he said.

Currently, Sitoy is occupied with initiatives such as: First, the formation of LUDABI chapters composed by students and young professionals intended to bridge generation of speakers and ultimately to cultivate among the young the love for the local language.

Second, the continuation of the integration of the teaching of the Cebuano language in grammar schools (which started in the municipality of Cordova) and the partnership with the University of Bohol to credit the study of the Cebuano language as tantamount to having a masters degree.

Third, the expansion of LUDABI’s membership. And fourth, more importantly, is the compilation of a Cebuano grammar book that will complement the recently launched Cebuano Dictionary, an initiative carried on by his father, another Cebuano language champion, Atty. Adelino Sitoy, currently the mayor of Cordova.

“Ultimately, our vision is to make LUDABI a vehicle to let the Cebuano language flourish and develop more,” he said. By that he means that Cebuanos and those who speak the language may develop greater affinity and affection towards the language to appreciate its songs and literature for example.

After all, the Cebuano language is not only a tool of communication. More than that, it is a reflection of the Cebuanos’ aspiration, their life—their soul. JSC