The Wily Filipino

Class Blogs.

I've taken the plunge and decided to incorporate blogging as a requirement in my Filipino American lit class. It took me a while to decide: my hesitation towards it was primarily the students' internet access, which ultimately wasn't a problem (only 2 or 3 people didn't have access from home, but otherwise had it regularly at work).

The other waffling point was the quality of writing. I've experimented enough with simple private discussion boards in my classes to know that, despite my warnings, entire responses would still be posted consisting of nothing but "Me too!" or "w00t!" or "LOL." To make it a graded requirement, and to make it publicly readable, I hope, would force the students to write something more substantive.

But I was pushed towards the blogging option again over the summer after I received my student evaluation comments for the spring. The comments about my "discussion sections" were positive overall, yet I was somehow quite bothered by the few students who demanded more lectures -- not because the discussions weren't a waste of time, but because (paraphrasing one student) "I'd rather just sit back and take notes rather than be forced to talk."

The comment just brought back everything I hated the most in college: my arm cramping up, filling notebooks with little opportunity for Q&A, pointless exam after pointless exam. When I'm interrupted in mid-lecture (sometimes jokingly -- I hope) by students who ask "Will this be on the exam?" I'm worried that the students are already so used to "teaching to the test." What it promoted, it seemed to me, was a different conception of "studying." One crams as much stuff as possible into the brain the night before the midterm, closes the book and recites what one has just read, vomits everything onto the bluebook (and don't even talk to me about multiple-choice Scantron exams -- I still have my pride, and refuse to give them, despite my incredible number of students): well, this just isn't what I want from studying, and it certainly isn't "learning" either.

So I've decided -- and I think the students were pleased, although a little apprehensive concerning the upped requirements for class participation -- to do away with the exams altogether and concentrate on essay writing and discussion.

Anyhow, here's the main classroom blog, Flips in Fog City (everyone we're reading in the class has or had some connection of sorts to the Bay Area). At some point in the next couple of weeks, the students should have their group blogs up. Then we'll see what happens.

Wally Gonzales Writes Reviews.

This is, supposedly, Wally Gonzales writing on Speed, Glue and Shinki:

Those people who write the metal rock books some are fucking geeks with univerity diplomas. They laugh at metal while they write about it and take it without any serious expression. One man write slow stoner classic is Bang LP. Shit. Bang is one song band. Other songs of bang like smeard shit on Sabs boot sole. Some slag Grand Funk. Not clever enough. Mark Farner is a clever man with good intention for fans and al;l the people of the world. But no group got close to slow Sabbath stomp like the japanese trio Speed Glue and Shinki. Shinki Chen is the great jimi guitarist, which makes bass player and drummer into speed and glue. Hey great. Drummer is Mr. Joseph Smith of the Philipines. Hey Joe, you the man motherfucker. Like Sir Lord Baltimore singer John Garner, Joseph is also the mean Iggy Ozzy behind that kit. Squarks like MC5 and Blue Cheer and Stooges and hits the traps like he's punishing the man for building this world for assholes. Slow songs of Speed Glue and Shinki are perhaps the best and occupy in my head the larger place. Big double LP of big donkeys knob hanging and cool. Remember Kiss Hotter than Hell. Slower than those songs. Simple riffs for the moron to play but full of clever lyrics for the wise man to hear. Good combination to like with massive bone on the go and inhale the whole room staring at double LP sleeve of magical tiger with all the world of mystery in its eyes. Good record for studying the words. Get the words of Mr. Joseph Smith 1972. He os the Mother of Fucking Rock here. The words of Sniffing and Snorting say he's snorting out of the hands of a stgranger. That's pretty cool I guess. He's smoking a J on a beutuful day. He took a sip of wine and started loading his gun and shot it in his veins, By the time I pull it out I'm gonna feel so strange. No shit. I feel pretty strange too with I do that. Speed Glue is great when they play fast too, but we ain't talking about that right now. This double is for Dead george and those guys, you know. Lying in a pool of yourself on some hillside turning in to the earth and sucking up the vegetation and letting weather just happen. This is the fukcin ggroup man, Speed Glue and Shinki. Thankfull ball attention

His review of Amon Duul II's Tanz der Lemminge is fantastic as well:

For me they are an sect malignant of powerful desart magical and worship, and occupy in my head the larger place. To Amon Duul 2 I will be the lemming, and myself lead astray.

Send Me Your Dirty Jokes.

Barb promises me a dirty joke and fails to deliver.

So cheer me up: the person who sends me the best dirty joke, in English or Tagalog -- I'm not offering any criteria -- in the next few days will get to make a request for an mp3 download. I can't promise to upload the specific song, so you can ask for a particular theme / artist / genre / whatever. Only three entries maximum per person, now.

And please, no old ones: no "Welcome to Jamaica, have a nice day," no "Death by Ubanga," no "Nag-sesecond-thought ho," no "Sure, just don't slap me that hard," no "Anong akala mo sa akin? Alkansiya?," no "Licklola."

Some Stuff That Has Cheered Me Up.

1. Thanks to Jean and Pat for your comments (no, I haven't downloaded the mp3 yet, but will in a sec). I am hanging in there, thanks to my friends -- you know who you are! -- and relatives both far and near. (No, it's not about health; thankfully those I love are all healthy.)

2. The latest (and last) Guided By Voices album, Half Smiles of the Decomposed, arrived in my mailbox on Monday, and it is a blessed gift from indie-rock heaven. It's already vaulted into my favorites of the year -- see the right-hand column. Lyrically and musically, it's even stronger than the last GBV-With-Big-Speakers album, Isolation Drills -- heck, right now, it feels like it's already in the GBV top 5 (up there with Bee Thousand, Alien Lanes, Under the Bushes Under the Stars, and Propeller).

As Uncle Bob himself put it: "We are the kings of indie rock. When we quit, indie rock will die."

3. Now this made me smile. I love the "coconut leaves and kerosene" part, though the article is maddeningly quiet on the ingredients. Did the wedding guests think it was lechon, perhaps?

4. Watching the very first episode of Monty Python's Flying Circus last night. "Nine out of ten British housewives can't tell the difference between Whizzo butter and a dead crab."

5. Eric Idle's "The FCC Song."

6. Whoa -- Puffy is coming to the Fillmore in October. I have to go.

7. I'm having my friends Lito and Nerissa over for dinner in a few days (then we're watching The Village, despite the bad reviews), and just by chance, Lito's poem "Her First Night Away" is open in front of me, as I try to figure out questions for discussion of another one of his poems for class next week.

"For once in this marriage, more than
darkness separated us, more than sleep,
though it's now daylight where you are."

Sigh.

It's 11:57 pm, and it's the end of the one of the worst days of the worst year of my life. Going online was, I guess, my attempt at pretending things were back to normal, but they're not.

(No, don't ask.)

Song Titles in Tagalog.

Not sure where this comes from, but it was forwarded to me -- sorry, the humor gets lost in translation, so I won't bother. I do love the fact that almost all the songs seem to be ripped off a Mellow Touch playlist from the '80s (heck, Dan Hill is probably still in heavy rotation in the Philippines):

Imagine - Mantakin Mo
Bluer Than Blue - Malapit Na Sa Hukay
Tonight's The Night - Patay Kang Bata Ka
Hey Jude - Hoy Hudas!
Power of Love - Buntis
Three Times a Lady - Super Bakla
More Than A Woman - Tomboy
Can't Be With You Tonight - Meron Ako Ngayon
Don't Let Me Be The Last To Know - Huwag Mo Kong Gawing Tanga
You Should Know By Now - Alam Mo Na Dapat Ngayon Yan, Tanga!
Sometimes When We Touch - Minsan Kapag Tayo'y Naghihipuan
Touch Me In The Morning - Hipuan Mo Ako Sa Umaga
Stairway To Heaven - Mula Paa Hanggang Singit
Got To Believe In Magic - Walang Himala
Total Eclipse Of The Heart - Maitim ang Puso
King & Queen Of Hearts - Tong-it Na Ko Sa Jack
Macho Man - Walang Ganyan Sa Opis
Pretty Woman - Walang Ring Ganyan Sa Opis
How Deep Is Your Love - Magkano Ang Iyong Deposito sa Bangko

Your New Favorite Song.

Back at the turn of the century when the state of American R&B and soul seemed really dire (it isn't now, thanks to Carl Thomas), I turned, courtesy of the evil wallet-breaking people at Dustygroove, to Japan, where the torch remained gloriously alive, at least in an acid-jazzy, "neo-soul" capacity.

The Japanese singer Bird made quite a splash when she made her debut in 1999; she has since shed her blowoutcombed-plumage (you can check out what it looked like here), but her music is still essentially the same summery urban Tokyo soul.

The track I have here, entitled "Souls," is the first single off her excellent debut album, Bird, produced by the extraordinary Shinichi Osawa (more about him in later posts). It's a lot more radio-friendly and poppier than most of her soul-oeuvre, but if you're fogbound like me in San Francisco, it should brighten up your morning. (There's a video on her official Sony page, but I haven't seen it yet.)

Hear it (8.1 mb).

Two Announcements.

A couple of announcements:

The Filipino American Center of the San Francisco Public Library presents:

"Colored: Black n' White -- The Philippine-American War in American Popular Media, 1896-1907"

You are invited to join us:
Saturday, August 14, 2004
Opening Lecture with Exhibition Curators
Main Library, Lower Level, Koret Auditorium, 2:00 - 3:00 p.m.
A reception and exhibition viewing will follow in the Skylight Gallery

"Colored: Black n' White" is an exhibition containing more than 70 magazine and newspaper cartoons from 1896 to 1907 which convey the political, racial, and gender sensibilities surrounding the Philippine -American War. The exhibition presents a perspective on the debate about manifest destiny and the United States as a global power, the cost of war and the administration's justification for colonial expansion and the portrayal of Filipinos and anti-war advocates in American media.

Curated by Abe Ignacio, Jorge Emmanuel and Helen Toribio and presented by the Filipino American Center of the San Francisco Public Library.

Exhibition Dates: August 14 through October 21, 2004
Main Library, Sixth Floor, Skylight Gallery
100 Larkin Street (at Grove)

And here's a link for the Critical Filipina and Filipino Studies Collective Living Archive: the initial draft of a repository of documents pertaining to the Filipino and Filipino American progressive movement after 1986 -- an update of sorts to Schirmer and Shalom's The Philippines Reader: A History of Colonialism, Neocolonialism, Dictatorship, and Resistance.

I Miss Your Comments.

So... they're back, spam be damned.

Your New Favorite Song.

Masami Akita is Merzbow, and Merzbow is the premier noise artist, period. With a crushingly massive discography (about 360 releases and counting), and albums that explore the same blasted electronic noise terrain, Merzbow is one of those take-it-or-leave-it musicians: you either know he's not for you upon first listen, or you come back begging for more.

(I figure this was an opportunity to share a bit of Merzbow, considering the fact that I seem to be the biggest Merzbow fan on Audioscrobbler.)

The problem with his tracks is that they're usually these 12-minute long affairs (sometimes even the entire length of a CD), with slab after slab of brain-drilling sonic terror, and I try to keep my selections fairly small. (I'm on 56 kbps dialup, after all.) But here's a track called "Octopus," off a 1999 album, Tentacle, that's short and sweet and encapsulates pre-digital Merzbow (i.e., before he started using his Powerbook, which has resulted in a slightly warmer sound): low thud rumble here, ear-bleeding screech there.

Hear it (2.4 mb).

Comments?

Love! Sex! Communism!

Here's a plug for my good friend Jojo Abinales's forthcoming book, Love, Sex, and the Filipino Communist (or Hinggil sa Pagpipigil ng Panggigigil), coming out sometime this month from Anvil:

Love, Sex, and the Filipino Communist examines the CPP-NPA's guidelines on love and sex, and narrates some of the experiences by cadres and ex-cadres as they tried to deal with the regulations. It also explores the fraught relationship between Marxist-Leninism and "the woman question," and looks at the responses of Filipino feminists -- outside and inside the CPP -- to an orthodoxy that puts premium on class over gender and sexuality.

(Click on the image for a bigger version, and check out some of the hilarious quotes.)

Comments?