Nevergirl’s

Ampatuan defense lawyer: “Is it possible that the victims died of something else before they were shot and buried?”

Prosecution witness: “It’s possible. They may have seen the checkpoint and knew they were going to die, so they decided to induce a mass fatal heart attack.”

I woke up to this dialogue being lobbed about in Facebook. Everyone found it hilarious in the same way putting chicks through paternity testing is hilarious.

Said two commenters on the PhilStar website:

“saan kaya graduate itong lawyer na ito, nakakahiya naman sa skwelahan ito or baka naman sa avenida lang nakakuha na diploma ito.”

“baka naman high lang sa shabu itong defense lawyer na ito. nag session sila ni ampatuan bago sya humarap sa press interview.

Unfortunately, I do not find this line of defense funny. I think it’s clever. Prosecution won’t take it seriously. Neither would the public. We’d all clutch at our collective sides rolling our eyes and laughing so hard we’d end up popping a collective vein or two. “That Andres Manual dude is some piece of work,” we’d hoot. “Is he dumb or just high?”

Unfortunately, he’s neither. We shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss the defense’s line of argument. They would not be taking this stance unless they’re going somewhere with it. I think I can sense what’s coming up. They’re knocking down the number of people actually killed by the suspects. Asserting that some of the victims were dead before they were shot is actually pretty clever. You cannot kill a person who’s already dead after all. So first, they will lessen the number of people actually killed then they’ll question if investigation or identification or transport of victims followed mandated processes. Little by little, they will chip away at the evidences until they establish doubt. My guess is that the Ampatuans will get off on a technicality. And no, I’m neither dumb nor high. (more…)

Yes, I’m a long, long way away from laughter—and right now, I’m so homesick I could cry.

I come from a close-knit clan. We have reunions often, and major gatherings twice a year at least for my grandparents’ birthdays. This video is from the 2009 reunion where almost a hundred grandkids came. The guy singing in the video is a grandfather of sorts; I just can’t remember how exactly.

Check out the rockstar growl in the beginning, yo!

Honestly, I’m amazed he managed to sing at all—and amazingly at that. At this point, he was so drunk, his grandchild had to help him up the makeshift stage.

We’re a Beatle-mad clan. Last year, I was stunned to learn my 5-year-old half-brother knew the lyrics to “Here Comes the Sun” (and many more songs by the Beatles) by heart!

And yes, my father and I sang the loudest in the video! My father’s that guy with sunglasses tucked into his shirt, and he’s yelling singing so loud his brothers beside him saw no point in joining in hahaha!

I’m sad I missed ALL of the major family gatherings this year. I think I’ll keep on breaking out these 2009 videos now that I’ve figured out how to post ‘em in Facebook.

BUT WAITJUSTAMINUTE! The vid I just spent the last few minutes describing isn’t showing! Hahaha! I am completely devoid of htc sense.

This is ridiculous. I’m ridiculous.

I’ll figure this out; I will, I will.

My heart is raw, raw, raw. I just spent the last two days crying. But this is how I know I will be fine: today, I woke up hungry.

The day you remember you have a tummy is the day you will be okay.

You can quote me on this one, yessir, you may, and you can even take that to the bank and back (and have engraved it on personalized note cards)!

Some days, I want to fail, break down, get lost, need help, not know what to do, what to do here, what to do next. I want to be numb, and dumb, and weak, and vengeful, and selfish, and helpless, and unforgiving; or go to seed, or come to ruin so you will see what you haven’t seen since I was nine: I do not always know where to go, what to do, when to stay, what to say, how to sit to a breakfast of sadness and chew, chew as if I were eating a meal that fills (because heaven help me I try, I try but I am not always so stoic).

You’re still the only boy who makes me cry, the only boy who can make me leak tears like a busted kitchen faucet.

Happy 51st birthday soon, first and sharpest heartbreak.