about the talking fish

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Writer. Wheelman. Occasional DIY mechanic. Walking collection of hang-ups. Hopeless romantic. Old-school. Analog soul in a digital world. I am all of these things and more.

Wednesday, January 16, 2002

Another Wednesday, another grand gimmick. Another lavish amount of money spent on mundane things. I just can't help it. With only two periods and dismissal at 10:30 am, I can't resist the urge to get in my pet Corolla, shift into gear and drive to Glorietta. I know it's a bad habit...:(
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I got to watch American Adobo today (today's its first showing). Great fare for a Filipino movie.

I found the movie reminiscent of Amy Tan's book The Joy Luck Club, only this time the main characters are all Filipino-American. It talks about the lives of five very different New York Fil-Am friends, and the various personal problems they face. It's all done quite intimately and realistically and with only a scant measure of pretentiousness, which is great kudos for any Filipino movie. The American actors were pretty great too --- they lent themselves to some hilarious situations.

Great, great movie. I'm very proud of this piece of celluloid.
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Lately I've been giving a lot of thought about the prospect of death. I know it's rather morbid to talk about something so conclusive, especially at my young age (I'm turning 19 three days before Valentine's). Manila is a rather dangerous city to live in, however. Life isn't an "ensured" condition here; you can get hit by stray bullets on New Year's or get kidnapped while commuting.

Just yesterday, a security guard at DLSU was shot dead five times in the head at point-blank range. He was shot by this driver-bodyguard of a DLSU student who's supposedly the kid of a congressman. All the guard did was instruct the driver to move his SUV because he was impeding traffic in busy Taft Avenue. The worst part is, three of my blockmates witnessed the grisly event.

Scientifically speaking, what happens to us --- our consciousnesses --- when we die? Even as a Christian, I find the thought of my soul going "somewhere else" after my death very hard to believe. Sometimes I think that's overly romantic bullshit. Do we simply go into an endless sleep either after a painless bullet in the head, or a brutal beating?

We exist only upon our conception, birth and consequent life. We were nothing before that. That probably means we will return to nothing after we die. No heavenly ecstatic glory, no redemption, no eternal damnation in hellfire and brimstone.

Even more distressing is the possibility that all life on Earth --- and all life in the universe for that matter --- may have been just an accident. So far, we earthly organisms are the lone life force in the universe. In our search for other intelligent life, we may just be wasting millions of taxpayers' dollars not looking for needles in haystacks, but looking for any light in a total vacuum. Simply stated, we may be the only intelligent life in the universe...owing more to the possibility that Earth's life-bearing composition and all living things are simply an accident.
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I'm not saying that I accept everything I've typed here tonight. It seems such an insignificant venture, living our lives simply because we were goddamned fucking accidents. It's also pitiful to most of us humans that everything we were, are and may be --- our "souls" --- can simply disappear all in the space of one day.

Like Americans, we pride ourselves as something special, something different. Americans boast of their being "God's people." Arabs pride themselves as the true heirs of Abraham's legacy via his true son Ishmael. Jews proclaim that it is their forefather Isaac and not Ishmael who is Abraham's true son, and I personally find it immature and discriminatory of the Jewish faith to declare with beaten chests that Jews are the only people to be liberated by God.

Try watching the movie Ghost in the Shell and you'll probably get my drift. Someday computers will gain sentience --- a mind of their own --- and maybe gain feelings and experiences of their own making. When that time comes we will ask the question: If our definition of humanity is based on our memories alone, what is it about us humans that is so special? Are we not all fundamentally information? Getting to the microscopic level, even our DNA is simply a self-replicating code of information.

What then makes us humans so special? No one seems to be able to answer this question. Even if we enter heaven, St. Peter is said to ask us only one very tough question: "Who are you?" The answer doesn't come in the form of your name, accomplishments, occupation, traits, family or friends. That leaves us pretty much stumped...
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In typing this, I realize I've done too much thinking in the last couple of weeks. I need to get back to my homework. Like I said, typing all this doesn't mean I believe it all.

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