Archive for October, 2009

Pope’s Prayer for Humankind.

The Pope was finishing his sermon. He ended it with the Latin phrase, “Tuti homini” – Blessed be mankind.

A women’s rights group approached the pope the next day. They noticed that the pope had blessed all of mankind, but not womankind. So the next day, after his sermon, the pope concluded by saying, “Tuti homini, et tuti femini” – Blessed be mankind and womankind.

The next day, a gay-rights group approached the pope. They said that they noticed that he had blessed mankind and womankind, and asked if he could also bless those who are gay.

The pope said, “Sure.”

The next day, the Pope concluded his sermon: “Tuti homeni, et tuti femini, et tuti fruiti.”


Witches Are Made…

Witches are made, not born.

and they don’t die, even if they wanted to,

before they have transferred their witchcraft

and their witch lore to someone else.


Hence they are felt around dark, lonely places

under dark, lonely trees

or just seen flying around alone

in half-bodied, frightful forms.


The next post below this  is described as plain as  could be described

the making of a witch, or rather, the transfer of witchcraft

and immortality.




Matanglawin Chapter 5 (The House of Gnomes) is skipped

Mainly because writer’s block has overtaken me. I am stumped

regarding how to present two midgets who are twins, whom

I have named as Abra and Dabra, and whose characters I

really have no idea how two midget women twins would act,

Or react.


Matanglawin Chapter 6 runs at the post below:


Matanglawin Chap 6

M A T A N G L A W I N  by  cool_ambo

Chapter 6Matanglawin

The Doctor Witch


ONCE  AGAIN  I  STEP  INTO  ANDANTE’S  PARLOR,  like a fly stepping into a spider’s web. No fret have I—this is not her parlor. This parlor is mine by inheritance, not hers, not even hers by relation, for she is not even related to me.

My father would have given this parlor to her, nonetheless;  and I would, too, even if my father did not; if only to show my gratitude for the countless times her eye shielded me from the many dangerous firefights I fought in Mindanao, most of which were won by a charge that I led with reckless abandon. Her powers were mainly responsible for my coming out of these fights unscathed. Indeed I would have given her the house if she asked for it, because I really do not need a safe haven anytime she is on my side.

Father made a contract with Andante. In exchange for awarding her the family name plus getting her through a medical course with a doctor’s degree, she would assure that I am safe. This would be a long time assurance for me because these ‘mangkukulams;’ or ‘monks’ for short, do not ever, ever die; unless, of course, their powers  were transferred to a willing recipient who would have been transformed into a new ‘monk’.

Now, my grandmother was reputed to be a ‘monk’ (which is probably the reason why there has been no love lost between the two of us). My mother passed away first. Consequently, before my grandmother can die, somebody has to receive her witchcraft,

meaning me, mostly, or else she would be doomed to roam the earth. Comes now Andante

who has agreed to receive her powers and the immortality that goes with it. In effect, Andante redeemed me from a deathless fate, which was in truth, worse than death.

AND  THERE  AGAIN  I  STAND  AT  WHAT  WAS  ONCE  A  BALLROOM.  It is all dark. The windows are all closed and barred. I see from the candlelight, the winding staircase, the gothic pillars, reproductions of Goya on the wall, Da Vinci, El Greco, Amorsolo and Luna. And shelves, a lot of shelves were added , and on which rest large bottles of deformed fetuses, cancerous livers, frogs,  snakes, and rats swimming in formalin. Also dried komodo tongues, lizard tails, bat wings, barks and herbs and huge facsimiles of human skulls and skeletons that rattled  as they dangle from the ceiling. And that square, tailor’s table etched with a huge pentagram at the center now brings to my mind some reminiscences of Andante, and the ordeal that I helped put her in.

I vividly recall her, oh how could I ever forget Andante in all her nakedness, sprawled in a stupor over this table with my grandmother the monk firing up incense that smelt like ether. The monk, who had me summoned from the adjoining house, suddenly turned to mark a smaller pentagram over my left breast with her fingernail that did not cut but burned through my uniform. She cackled as she did this. I never liked her when she does this cackling sounds. I covered nude Andante with my jacket as the monk pulled out a green empty can of half-and-half pipe tobacco, and took out about eight or ten porous lava rocks the size of marbles. One by one she proceeded to pop these rocks in her mouth and to swish them together with the dried things she was chewing. She pulled out Andante’s tongue and bade me to hold it out while she spat the chewed mush of lava rocks in Andante’s mouth. This gagged Andante. In the next instant, the monk brought out two flat, white oval stones and stuck them between Andante’s  cheeks and teeth. A

pentagram was then etched over her left breast pointed side up, drawing blood in profusion. Andante started trashing from her waist down to her feet which started to bang on the table repeatedly. I shoved a bolt of cloth under her heels to prevent them from fracturing. The monk flung away my jacket that covered Andante, adding that she should be initiated to her domain naked as the day she was born.

After a while, her trashing came in regular intervals, preceded each time by rumblings in her stomach. I had to shove the bolts of cloth under her ankles to those points requiring the buffer. Holding her feet down was useless because she was smeared all over with some greenish, slippery oil. All this time, the monk was mumbling and spraying some smelly liquid on the floor with a dry palm frond. Suddenly, Andante’s lower body stopped trashing and her upper body picked up the shakes. The monk kicked away her slippers to stand barefooted, pinning Andante’s left hand with her right, and Andante’s right hand with her left. I climbed on the table, sat on her belly, and pinned down her left shoulders with my knees and her head with my hands. With a choke, she spat out the pebbles. The monk called for the black duffle bag and slid it whole on Andante, feet first. After I tightened the bag around her neck, I found the monk slumped on the floor, exhausted.

When I came back after a change of clothes. I saw the duffle bag floating in the air with the monk feebly trying to hold it down. Andante was levitating. It appeared that she has defied gravity and is now floating in the air so lightly that the slightest nudge would have sent her flying off. I cut a long strip of cloth from the bolt and anchored the duffle bag a foot away over the table. This was the monk’s last set of instructions to me before she disappeared through a hidden door on the wall.

Pretty soon, a piercing shriek came from Andante. It grew louder and louder until little lightning sparks emanated from her body to touch the ground. The chandelier came crashing down and cracked the ballroom floor. And she came down on the table bodily with a thud.

She woke up an hour later, but before then I took off the duffle bag from her and wrapped her with cloth. Her pentagram was scarred and reddened. Mine was sore. Her left eye turned from blue to black. She got up and walked half-dazed, and began to dance around the floor. That was the most enchanting sight I have ever seen—-Andante in a light blue chiffon wrap, covered with an aura of sparks, dancing around with her feet barely touching the ballroom floor. If ever there were fairy diwatas in this world, I would see Andie as one of them. In this very once in a lifetime moment, I can ignore the dreadful stare from her eye, and drink only of  her graceful levitated turns, and her very intoxicating smile.

End Chapter 6—

(Please do not attempt to duplicate the procedure for transforming  a witch as described here if you are not a professional monk, as amateuristic incantations are  reportedly the causes of these fly-by-night joy rides.)


To quit or not to quit…..


Why is it that the Senators are not required to quit as senator when they file their candidacy for the next elections?

Why is it that the Secs of Malacanang are required to quit their positions the moment they file their candidacies for the next election?

The Senators, as lawmakers, have functions that are passive to the daily processes of running the government, hence whatever the influence they would bring to  the results of the elections would be ineffective, even nil at most.

The people connected with the Executive Dept, or Malacanang, would have an active participation in the daily processes of running the government and therefore they would have a direct influence on those people who actively participate in the control of the elections.


In othet words, Malacanang people would have a more direct authority to change things than the lawmakers.

Tama ba?

Claire Martin

And this is Claire Martin, the one I was telling you about.




Tagging another storm….

(click on claire.wmv)

Peter Mansbridge

The grand old man,

or rather, The  Grand  Man of Canadian television

reportedly turned down a lucrative offer to move to an American network.


A strictly Canadian in both faith and principles,

he holds everybody’s respect

and there has been none to disrespect him.

This is not a plug. He needs no plugs.

He already cuts an imposing figure on the screen.


 I’ve been in Canada long enough to testify to this.

Rosemary Barton


Hotel Intercontinental Manila

Not to be outdone is the Intercontinental Hotels which shows here its signature hotel in Manila.



If this panorama is viewed in a large lcd tv, it would be breathtaking!

Anyway, while the Mactan Resort and Spa offers the exotic experience, the Intercontinental Hotel of manila offers the best in cosmopolitan living. A good place to splurge and to give a splurge—it is situated in the Business Capital of the Philippines.

Intercontinental Manila

No. 1 Ayala Avenue, 1226 Makati City

Tel: +63 2 793 7000

Fax: +63 2 752 7777

Toll Free Number : 1 800 1651 8888

And while the MSP sends out brochures of fantastic photographs, the ICM bundles some of these images in a separate video presentation which is similar to a power point slide show.

Intercontinental Manila video clip

This post is brought to you by : MALIGAYA  TRAVEL

Virgilio Agbulos, proprietor


Set Top Box

ABS_CBN  Set Top Box for TFCKo, $31.50 cad a month.

It’s just a box that you set on top of anything!

And that’s a plug. face2

Manning the posts

The past tropical storms that ‘sank’ the Philippines forced just about everybody in the network to man some post or another, especially the ladies who stepped up to it with nary a whimper.



Twink Macaraig


Zyann Ambrosio

Orange you glad…

ORANGE  YOU  GLAD that I am not posting in Kurdish, or Hindi, or Swahili.

This is Tagalog, the Filipino language, or that which you don’t understand.

And I do not have to be taught this language.

Some of you have to be taught this language.

Darn it!

Jenny Reyes

I’ve been neglecting this one. A pleasant surprise was when she exhibited a  more than ample grasp of the science of metroleogy, meltreology, moltoreology,

er, weather forecasting.


She can’t be as good as the celebrated Claire Martin, though, not a tad.

But what the hey, Claire Martin can 0nly forecast that there is a 4th weather disturbance coming to the Philippines. And this fact everybody knows already.


Purple Shades


Joni James sang this song at the Carnegie Hall, showing some of the trills that had her dubbed as ‘the Girl With The High School Voice”


Purple Shades.mp3




Nah! This ain’t a shade of purple. This is more like pomegranate! Close, close enoough.

In My Life

Vilma Santos’ movie, In My Life, is getting good raves.

Also, good box office results.

Xmas Tree


This is one Christmas tree I would like to keep for myself!

Sol Aragones


San Pablo, eh?

Ay malayo. Taga San Cunigundo po ako!  Tabi po ng pabrika ng palayok!

Ted Failon

of TV Patrol World



……I must have overslept for a week….donita050

Has it been that long a time?

Dams, dams, dams,

I’m not getting accustomed to them at all. I know that they are not designed to merely hold water nor stop a river from flowing completely. These would be disastrous.

They are built to CONTROL the flow of water, not stop the river completely. If it does, then the water will just overflow. Worse, the dam would break.

If the dam breaks, the flow of water will not be under control. This would result in the flooding of the worst kind.

As I see it, the governors and the local government officials are just shifting the blame from themselves to the dam engineers. Come to think of it, where were the local govt officials and the governors during the time of the floods.  I must say that the probability is that they were off somewhere else. We should thank the engineers for sticking to their posts at the dams not like some people we know na tila maghahabla pa raw!

If this is a problem of giving the warning to the localities concerned, this is all but a simple problem to solve. Audible warnings may be propagated by sirens, a lot of which are available in the manually-operated form. Turn the handle and the siren will sound.

Visual warnings may also be used like flares or fireworks.

Other methods may be thought of by using some coconut sense, which is obviously absent when panic rules.

Simple lang iyan magsisisihan pa kayo. E sino pa nga ba ang lumalabas na engot niyan?

former One important item to consider is that the San Roque Dam released water after all the other dams have already done so. The region was already saturated with a rising flood problem when the San Roque dam started releasing excess water. The delay in the release was probably made because it is concluded that the San Roque excess water would aggravate the floods caused by the excess water from the other dams. But the rains did not stop soon, so there!

It was a judgement call under calculated odds! face2

Thanksgiving Dinner

That was a good Thanksgiving dinner.

The turkey bones really make for good macaroni soup (not the bones, the soup stock).

And it lasted for two days!


Mrs. Minnea Gil-Jones


Mrs. Minnea Gil-Jones with Gabriel and Sophia.

Witch Hunt

Now that the Philippines has been washed clean by the Mag-asawang-Bagyo,

every able-bodied, clean authority goes witch hunting for people to blame on these disasters!

Of course they cannot, don’t want to blame God for these two acts of God!

They can blame those who come close to acts of God—-the operators of the dam sluice gates! As if these operators were not paid to protect the integrity of the irreplaceable dams by releasing excess water.


email addy

Your message has been forwarded to Minnea. I hope she gets it.

Any confidential messages may be sent to

This will be read more promptly than

Although they are both lightning fast on the wires.

The Mactan Resort and Spa

Honeymooner's ParadiseI did give you a big yap about the Pushing Tourism Ahead. Nonetheless, the resorts themselves are doing a better job promoting tourism in the country, most of them being chain hotels and resorts.

One example is the SHANGRI-LA Resort and Spa in Mactan, Cebu. They came out with this infomercial disc that incorporates stunning pictures of immaculate cleanliness of the environment and some complete homage to artistry in the presentation.

Watch this— parasailing—-Parasailing

feel the colors. And the reverence the camera treats the women:

Service with a Smile

 Service with a Smile.

 Philippine Hilot Massage

Philippine Hilot Massage

Kashmere Robes

Kashmere Robes

CHI Aerial Shot

Mactan Resort and Spa

Punta Engano Road, Lapu-Lapu City,

6015 Cebu, Philippines

Tel. (63-32) 231 0288   Fax (63-32) 231 1688



This post is from MALIGAYA  TRAVEL


Mr. Virgilio Agbulos, Prop.

Tayong Dalawa

I did follow the teleserye “Tayong Dalawa.”

This had flashes of brilliant creativity along its run.

The introduction of the Three Tsismosas was innovative, but it was something that was not exploited well. Three good comediennes to play these roles would have been a sensation.

And then again, the best and most complicated screenplay would have been the times when the two protagonists would have rekindled the interest in this teleserye by attempting to raise the baby towards the time of the wedding day. This would have made a good sequel, if the writers are up to the challenge.

By the way, the teleserye drags on a lot of portions perhaps in the attempt to extend the run. I switched to other programs when it did drag.

Also, instead of cops and drugs to create the action, the serial should have stayed on the terrorist-kidnapping sequences wherein local color in culture and dress and dances could have been presented.

People may have liked this teleserye, but I do declare that it could have been screenplayed lots better than that!