Netnet Camomot
SO, I was trying to “haha” a Facebook comment yesterday morning when I realized I couldn’t. I tried and tried and tried but still the “haha” won’t budge. Until I noticed the absence of the wifi prompt on the upper left corner of my phone. Blackout man diay. Unannounced again? Hmmm.
In this day and age of emails, texts, FB Messenger, and FaceTime, an unannounced blackout only brings back memories of the family’s rotary phone you’re now planning to use as house decor.
The rotary phone and the four-digit phone number. The rotary phone and partylines. The rotary phone and dialing a digit and waiting for that round thingy to go back to zero. It took an eon to dial the four-digit number.
Blackouts now mean using the phone to write this column. And using a powerbank to power up its low-batt status. And, hey, I’m rediscovering again the simplicity of writing via the phone’s Notes. I used to do this when I was Rotary club prez, while hopping from one Rotary activity to the next, and asking our EIC Herbie Gomez to please give me more minutes to catch up with the deadline.
Many times I would sit at the NC--New Choice--while having my aloe, tea, and protein shake, and trying to write with the phone, watching the clock go tick tock, as I counted the minutes needed to finish the column before rushing to wherever the Rotary project would be.
Those days are gone, but replaced by another kind of Rotary rush, catching up deadlines for Rotary district newsletters and public image reports, as eye luggage starts to occupy the face.
There are people who work till forever, only able to answer texts by midnight. And they still find time to read. I wonder why I don’t have time to read anymore but I may not have to go far in finding the answer. Facebook and Candy Crush Soda Saga. These two are taking me away from books and magazines that are piling up in this room with a view. I keep buying storage boxes now, since the books and magazines are occupying precious space in cabinets. I have promised a school, the long-term beneficiary of our Rotary club’s feeding program, and a school in Camiguin, that I’ll donate books to them. But I have to read the books first before that can happen. The read magazines are for my sis-in-law’s clinic.
Reading is always a good thing. It relaxes you, brings you to places and situations you’ve not visited yet, helps you see the big picture. Life also gives you these same experiences but with strings attached since you’re not merely reading about them but already living in and through them. You can stop reading a book when the emotions are high, but you can’t tell life to pause when that happens. Life goes on and on, you earn scratches and pain and scabs along the way. You can read about a character’s betrayal and say, Oh, how sad for his friend. But once you experience it, it goes straight to your heart and never leaves. The question that keeps on coming back is this: Hangtud kanus-a ni? Up to when. When will they stop believing the lies told by this traitor. When will they stop defending the traitor. When will they finally see the truth.
Lies have their way of making people believe. Look around you. The lies that are spread and now praised as the truth. And the investment you pour into the former lie that’s now masquerading as the truth. Eventually, you’ll become a victim, too, of that lie.
There are people who are known to be gossipmongers. I was at an activity once when an infamous gossipmonger arrived. I happened to look at a friend there while the infamous was about to join us, and we both laughed. Most probably with the same lyrics hovering above in our thought bubbles: “Oh-oh, here she comes, watch out boy, she’ll chew you up.”
Gossipmongers love their fellow gossipmongers because that’s the only way they can prove their life is way better than the subjects of their gossips. Their motto: Misery loves company. Their life is going down the drain, so better bring down, too, those who are doing well. They can’t see your success, they can only see your mistakes. And once they do see your success, they’ll spit at it and look down on you. At least ampalaya is good for the health. The gossipmonger’s bitterness, however, is bad for the health.
The worst gossipmonger is the one who can gossip about you while you’re seated beside her. Or while you’re seated in the same small room, you’re having dinner, she’s also having dinner but always manages to insert gossip in between bites. You would think levelheaded people could easily see what’s wrong with this picture. But they don’t. So, the conclusion is, they’re not levelheaded. Or their brain has gone down to their a**es, never to resurface again.
Gossipmongers love to gossip about other people so they can cover up their own flaws. Try to find out what’s their story and you’ll see the truth they’re desperately trying to hide. They’re living in a lie, and that’s why they love telling lies about other people. They pretend too much, they now believe their own lies about themselves.
There are politicians and celebrities who are aware that their public image is propped up by PR people. And they should continue to be aware of that otherwise they’ll start believing their own press.
Ordinary mortals should also be aware that there are people who praise them and put them on pedestals due to vested interest. That’s one way of gaining their gullibility, er, trust and confidence. But they should be able to see through the empty praise and weak pedestal. If it’s too good to be true, argh, get outta there.
Gossipmongers are the kind who will also heap praises on you, to the extent that you yourself will say, Huh? Because you do know your own self, your strengths and weaknesses, your likes and dislikes, your history and present story. No one has to tell you about that. Unless of course you’re insecure and need empty praises to prop yourself up.
You know it when you hear it. The empty praise. The over-the-top praise. The are-you-kidding-me praise. Your eyes glaze over while trying to maintain a poker face.
It’s called bogalbogal. Heaping praise on a person who’s opposite of that praise. You give it to a tone-deaf person after his adventurous attempts at singing: Great singer! To a wannabe writer who doesn’t know his “their” from “there”: Great writer! To a non-speaker who has given the most boring and non-inspirational talk ever: Great speech!
Imagine the tone-deaf continuing to sing at every occasion he gets the chance to, the writer still writing pieces that are giving the grammar police migraines, the non-speaker droning on and on, no thanks to your bogalbogal. They surely have other talents that are waiting to be discovered, help them develop that. Each person should find his own niche and that’s possible only when you tell him the truth and not contribute to his own lies.
At one occasion, a person was speaking before an audience that happened to include us, two of his acquaintances. That other acquaintance told me, Somebody should tell him to change his speaking style, he can’t do that anymore with the present position he’s in. Oh. Was he asking me to be the bearer of bad news? That speaker happens to believe his own press and the lies people tell him. If I correct him, his response would surely be, Who are you to tell me what to do? So, I let him be. And that allows other people to heap empty praises on him: Great speaker!
Each one of us should look in the mirror to find out who we are. Albert Einstein supposedly said this, “Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.” Oh, well.
