Pundits predicted that Diaz’ natural size advantage over the Pacman will be telling, if not, even sway the outcome of the bout to his favor. Nine rounds later that fight, he was caressing the canvas like its his sweetheart. Boxing analysts said Diaz was not as good as they thought he was. Pacman won, yes, but only because David was limited.

Next bout was against Oscar. The Golden Boy would be Pacman’s biggest, strongest opposition thus far. Some honorable men in the Philippine Congress even passed around a resolution asking the Nevada State Athletic Commission to cancel the fight. The honorable men thought a smaller man fighting a giant is suicide. I guess this is how their psyche plays out. Anyway, 8 rounds into the fight, the Golden Boy did not answer the bell for the 9th. Another Pacman win. Pacman’s star shone perhaps 1000 degrees brighter. But critics are fast to point out that ODLH was weight drained, a shell of his golden self. Pacman won, yes, but there is an asterisk.

A few months after that breakout performance, comes Brittain’s Ricky Hatton. I remember the confidence of the man. In one of the HBO shows for their 24/7, Ricky noted that Pacman’s moves were the same over and over. It’s like a pattern that he got all figured out. In particular, he noted the right hook (manila ice) as Pacman circles to the right.

“He makes the same move over and over,” Ricky noted. A few minutes into the first round, the same move, the right hook, blistered through his low guard, even as he was preparing to launch a left straight. As it was, the punch bored through and landed into his cheek. It was the beginning of the end. Hatton was out the next round via a vicious left semi-hook, semi-cross.

Pundits later noted that Hatton was tailor made for Pacman. That he was overrated, talentless and just ripe for the picking. Let’s not forget that after this fight, the huge welterweight Cotto is next in the table for Pacman.

Pacman-Cotto was 12 rounds of masacre. It wasn’t a pretty fight to watch. The disparity in punching accuracy, tenacity, viciousness, and overall aggression was beyond comparison. It was the only fight with Cotto on the other side wherein the Boricua fighter looked too ordinary. After the fight, boxing experts, well, some of them at least, made disparaging comments against Cotto. That his fight with Margarito was the brutal end to his career. That Pacman was simply at the right place and right time.

Last Sunday (Manila time). It was Clottey who faces the Pacman. Well, he survived 12 rounds through  impeccable  defense. It was clear from the fight that Clottey’s bones were so strong one could make it a pillar for a house and it would hold for a century. His heft and physical advantage notwithstanding, he lost to Pacman in a 12-round no-contest. it wasnt even close. It was  shutout. Well, 2 judges felt generous and gave Joshua 1 round out of 12.

The experts once again, well some of them anyway, thought Pacman looked sensational because Clottey did not come to fight.

Diaz, Dela Hoya, Hatton, Cotto, and Clotey — victims of Pacman. they all looked ordinary when facing Manny. They looked too pedestrian. Is it because Manny has since transcended his skills to become, once and for all, the WONDERFUL! I think so too.

world's best boxer

the chilren at PCF

It’s called loving the poor. They too are God’s children and aren’t we all made in His image? But loving and taking care of the poor actually takes a lot more than merely saying a quiet prayer for them. I had a first hand account how other people gladly offer their lives in the service of the poor.

The other day, the PLDT Smart Foundation (PSF), which entourage I was part of, visited the slums of Tondo, Manila. We were there for a simple ocular of a school building that the foundation is helping. Briefly, the PSF is sponsoring one level of a 5-storey school building while ePLDT is going to donate computer sets. The broadbanding of the school will come later on. Anyway, I am not here to talk about the PSF and its advocacies, rather I would like to focus on Jane Walker.

Jane, a British national, came to the Philippines 10 years ago. She said it was God who led her here, for, applying for a sabbatical at her work in the UK, she has found a way to enter the country. She has not left since, at least permanently, as her vacation turned into a vocation – caring for the children of the poorest of the poor.

Her battle ground is the Tondo slum. It’s a reeking squalor beside the Manila International harbor. People there live not on houses planted on land but on shanties sitting on top of rubbish! The people there live in deplorable conditions; they eat side-by-side with rodents; there is no grass beneath their feet, only garbage, tin cans, plastic, and all sorts of trash either manmade or natural. The place’s natural aroma is the overpowering stench of decomposing food stuff mixed with the salty breeze of the Manila bay. You will see the people here don’t seem to mind their condition. Life in the Tondo slum goes on, high water or hell, and continues to be this way like a cycle in perpetual motion. Even if I shed golden tears for them, it won’t be enough to alleviate their plight. There must be something wrong about this place. It must be that its people, its residents, have all lost hope or vision of a cleaner place to live – one that is fitting for a human being.

Even if they do, Jane has not. She’s taking the battle to the children. She educates them, feeds them, shelters them; she even plays with them, hugs them; she loves them. I am not sure if she is the founder of the Philippine Christian Foundation, but she runs her mission under the PCF banner.

We came to her school deep into the Tondo slum. We passed through a narrow alley, littered with all kinds of man’s entrails that only a dumpsite could accommodate. I didn’t realize then that the whole place is a dumpsite, though on paper its considered a residential area. When we arrived the PCF-run school was having some kind of a ceremony. It was their foundation day and the pageant, at least its version of it, was running. Naturally Jane and her staff were busy. In case you wondered what kind of school it was, let me show it you. Close your eyes. Can you smell something really bad? Good. Can you see rats running around? Can you see undersized children? So many of them. Can you see a world so dark and so ugly and so stinky and so piled up with trash and flood water that wont subside? Welcome to the dumpsite of Tondo. Its not a place you’d rather be. But here, children of scavengers, idlers, poor, uneducated, ignorant, hopeless….here their children are learning to read, to count, to dream. Even though the facility looks too rundown for a school, the personnel are all competent. It even has a room for mothers to create handcrafts that they can sell and earn their honest living, one handbag at a time.

Jane Walker is heaven sent to the people of Tondo

While the program was running, I went outside the building, which is really an abandoned dumpsite or maybe an abattoir which has seen better days. I can only manage one step outside of the school’s gate because the whole place is under rancid black waters. Across me, there was a young girl, holding a plastic basket. She was selling something and a garbage man or an scavenger, an adult male, approached her. After some haggling, the girl gave her plastic to the man. Later I learned that the plastic contains chicken parts collected from the dump. They are actually selling food scraps collected from the dump in this place. How many of us have ever served food to our children culled from the thrash?

This is the world that Jane lives for everyday. How heroic. And how inspiring that someone from a privileged nation would come here and take good care of those who eat rotten meat. Have you seen animals or dogs rummage through your trash? Does it disgust you? I can’t blame you. But in Tondo, it’s not dogs or rats or feral cats or roaches that fight for this space. Add to the list men, women, children and possibly their kids after them.

So Jane, knowing that she can’t be superwoman to liberate mankind in one sweeping stroke, decided to offer the children of Tondo what their parents could not afford – Education. She also provided them with something that the government can’t or would not afford – food. Its as simple as that. Food nourishes the body and the ABC the mind. Not only that. One of the hardest convincing that Jane has to endure was the fact that even if she offered free education to children with food stub and uniforms and back and forth school bus, the parents still, are reluctant to send them to her. The reason is that every day a child spends at school is a day spent not working. And not working means the family cannot afford another meal – yes, including those found in the garbage.

Being practical, Jane decided that for every school week that the children attend in perfect attendance, they get food stubs which include rice, sardines, noodles, etc. that they can bring home. For young girls who could not afford to go to school because its’ their “red” day, she has provided for sanitary napkins. Now, everybody has reason to go to school – Free school bus, free tuition, free laboratory, free medicines, free food for the family, free water, free clothes. Everything here is free, except one – learning. The children are given the chance here, it’s their fighting chance. It’s a start, isn’t it? How viable is this kind of mission? How about 10 years? No one can really out give God, the source of all the material blessings of the PCF school. Now, how about the mothers or fathers of the kids? For one, they are encouraged to go to work. They are taught skills, and they are also given medicines so that they remain healthy and their kids at school.

Some of the children are now graduating the level 6 of their PCF education. Where to go to high school? Don’t worry, Jane is building a HS. There is a chance, after all, because somebody from England has decided to stay, and to look after those who are unloved by their fellow Pinoys. In Tondo, I realized giving money on occasion will save a hungry stomach for a day, but what kind of hunger should we all try to feed?

For Jane it was the hunger for real love. It was the hunger for real concern. It was the hunger for liberation. Thank you Miss Jane. And may your thrive increase.

Parents are taught self-sufficiency skills such as making handbags made from discarded plastic

This is a question that has been nagging me since last week. While I slept that Saturday afternoon in the comfort of our house, never did I realize that only a few miles away, at the other side of Metro Manila, lives are being laid waste, properties are gobbled up by a hungry, angry torrent of floodwater.

There was a reason why I kept to my small room napping a lazy, breezy afternoon during typhoon Ondoy. Only hours before, at around 11:00 a.m., I was singing happily with my neighbors’ kids while taking a free shower in the street. There must have been five or six of us taking advantage of the typhoon rain during Ondoy’s heaviest downpour. Looking back, I realized that our sheer fun was another man’s tragedy.

When the next flood rain comes, or when the next cyclone hits the country, would our experience be the same. Would Metro Manila and its surrounding provinces be better prepared then?

There is a ton of lessons to be mined from Ondoy. The first has something do to with being prepared. Second could be that preparedness ought to be spread out. The third is that nature cannot be outwitted, even by man’s natural resourfulness.

The Octopus Effect is a simple concept in disaster preparedness. It tells the characteristics of an octopus with its tentacles reaching out 360 degrees. It also tells of one mega brain, the center of the tentacles whose instruction it carries out. What happens when a blob of heavy rod, or in this case flood, hits the center or nucleus of the command center? It renders it paralyzed. Without the head, the arms, however long and ruddy they may be are made useless for they have no brain power. Ondoy exploits this principle to full view with devastating aftereffects. As Mega Manila (some call it Imperial Manila) was struck dead on its tract, its arms were rendered useless. Im sure the NDCC will learn from this, I really hope they do.

Next point: to be continued…

As flood water brought on by typhoon Ondoy started to subside, another kind of inundation has since taken  its place. It’s the Filipino spirit of Bayanihan. It’s the kind of spirit that makes Filipinos cope with troubles, however big or difficult that may be.

The PLDT Group for example was one of the very first companies to come to the aid of those in distress during the Saturday morning of Ondoy’s wrath. It was a disaster response that will rival even that of the government, in terms of expediency, though maybe not in terms of breath and reach. Still, some of the severely affected received instant relief from the company.

More than that, employees too, on their own started dropping off donations of used clothes, groceries and even cash to help the victims of Ondoy. This is despite the fact that some of them were also affected by the flooding.

I find it uplifting when I overheard a conversation that went like this:

Lady: There is panic buying at Landmark grocery.

Friend: No, its only employees buying groceries for the victims of Ondoy.

If panic buying is always this way or for this reason, then I’d rather wait in line everyday, for hours even, to get my turn to the cashier, knowing that those in front of me, with the big cart filled with canned goods and noodles are buying for people who have nothing to spend for their own. Charity, indeed, begins at home. And sometimes, yes, at times, a big event such as massive rising of waters is needed to remind us that we are our brother’s keepers.

The waters of Ondoy brought neck deep waters to most places in East Manila and untold cost to property and lives. But it also showed us that Filipinos are capable of loving their fellowmen, especially those who have nothing to offer back.

Want a great time at the theater? Try catching “The Hangover” while it’s still showing on theaters (or buy a DVD) and bust your lungs laughing from start to finish.

It’s hilarious. Days after watching the movie, I still have that lingering feeling of satisfaction; four odd balls finding a way to spend a Las Vegas stag party and not remembering absolutely anything about the night before. Except for the ‘hangover’ the morning after, the guys have no memory of the event that had happened a few hours earlier. To complicate their predicament, the groom is nowhere in sight, the dentist is missing a tooth, the bathroom is hosting a giant tiger, the hotel’s safe has a baby!

Why is erased memory so funny? Well, it not. It’s the confluence of events, of happy times that the guys started to unravel in retracing their memory in the hopes of finding the groom-to-be Doug, and the crazy capers, wild night escapade.

The plot is really this simple: Four friends embark on a trip to Las Vegas to give their buddy the best stag party. Quite simple, really, no rocket science deciphering needed. And just before they went out for their thrill, the “fat guy” slipped a pill into their booze, an ecstasy, apparently. But the drug dealer mixed up his loot and gave another drug, a strong, wild one whose aftereffect is memory loss.

For the rest of the story, better watch the movie!

The other day, well, last payday, I was feeling glum. It was a Friday and will be working overtime. I had to attend to this important event that will last the whole night. So I went to the event but not after a detour to a nearby mall. I was thinking maybe a quick stroll will make my mood alright.

I went inside this mall at 5’9″ with shoes, I came out at nearly 5’11″.

How did this magic came about? It’s not a magic, its actually worth P3700.

I bought elevator shoes. So now I am a proud owner of a brandnew 2″ in height. Did it change my mood? You bet! I became poorer of course. But for 5’11″ ill take it anyway.

Have you ever wondered what’s it like to enjoy a rainy Friday? I do. So despite typhoon “Isang” drowning most of Metro Manila, I headed off north – with my wife – unmindful of the snarling traffic that greeted at us at EDSA on the way to Zambales.

I only wanted some moments of peace and quiet; I heard this place called Punta De Uian might give my city-weary soul some respite. But though my idea of a weekend getaway didn’t exactly coincide with braving a storm, my wife and I made the trip anyway.

After a few hours we finally arrived at the place. Its brochure says the 19-hectare resort development is an exotic paradise whose ambient sea breeze is therapeutic; well it didn’t mention it’s secluded too – exactly what we needed for our little vacation.

The rain kept its steady downpour though. Zambales was in a tropical depression, a caretaker told us soon as we disembarked from the car. But there was nothing depressing about the storm once we got into our room. Called the “Garden Views” our accommodation is oriented, well, towards the garden which is a few steps from the resort’s uber private, 600-meter shoreline.

I wondered why so many are attracted to Boracay when here in San Antonio visitors are treated to a personal beachfront that walking it from end-to-end will burn more calories than a treadmill. It can’t get any private than this, I thought.

“How do you find the place,” a voice echoed from behind me, distracting my musings of the wonderful beach. It was the executive housekeeper.  “Amazing, I adore this place,” I shoot back at the beautiful lady, pointing out the swelling waves that form the whitest bubble-foams as it strikes the sand.

She said Punta De Uian is frequented by foreign tourists not only to bask at its privacy but also to surf. I figured this is the kind of waves that will attract all sorts of water buffs. I wasn’t wrong.

Aside from surf boards that can be rented, the resort is armed to the teeth with water crafts ready to battle even a violent sea. I particularly liked the fleet of Jetski parked near our room. My wife once told me that she would love to learn to maneuver a Jetski and this place seems like the perfect start. After Isang leaves, I said to myself.

Then the pretty executive housekeeper invited me to a tour of the place. Naturally I said yes. My wife, Wendy, also joined us.

Onboard the resort’s golf cart, we covered Punta De Uian’s every inch, nook and cranny. We went from touring the rest of “station one” – where our room was idyllically situated – to the unfolding grand Balinese-inspired Club House that is being constructed in “station two.” Its floors were shinny and expensive, made from the finest granite. Adjacent were two huge function rooms with equally impressive fixtures. “This is going to be a favorite corporate hideaway,” I told my wife. And why not, Phase Two is incredibly amazing, combining tranquility with world-class amenities that will blow your mind away. It has a private driving range, a basketball court, a tennis court, a grand pavilion and a dirt bike race track.

Next, we toured the rest of the resort. I turned my eyes to the huge image of the Blessed Mother by the sea and quickly noticed that we are approaching the chapel. The calm, peace and total quiet here will make for a perfect group retreat.

Since our guide asked to leave to attend to arriving guests, Wendy and I went on foot to discover the rest of the area. Despite a steady downpour – for it was raining again – we managed to take a quick view of every detail that makes this expansive resort a sight to behold. Wendy especially liked that they are putting up a spa by the beach; I sensed she’s going to prod me for a comeback.

Lunch was approaching so we headed back to our room to tidy up. The weather was becoming amiable and sunlight penetrated through the thick rainclouds. For the first time since arriving, I saw the majestic mountains that embrace our enclave. It now it made sense the rows of bicycles, all-terrain quad and dirt bikes parked at the hotel lobby: Punta De Uian is a perfect place for nature tripping.

Lunch at the hotel restaurant was sumptuous and the servings generous. I particularly enjoyed the grilled bangus and mussels. I asked the resident manager why their bangus tastes different from the ones in Manila and he said it’s because it’s a local catch from brackish waters. In fact, most of the seafood was from local fishermen who sell their produce to the hotel every morning.

I also learned that Uian produces its own potable and drinking water both sea and natural spring. “No way!” But it’s true. The resort employs a filtration system that desalinates saltwater to become tap. The manager also told me that the owners not only dream of creating an earthly paradise in Zambales, they also envision a resort that will rival even the best in Asia. I think it’s on its way there.

My wife and I spent the rest of the day touring the beach, chatting about everything, and making plans. She said it would be great to visit Uian every week but this time with our 2 boys to boot; they will surely enjoy the pool and garden.

Uian is great, private, and easy to reach from Manila and surrounding provinces either by bus or car. Yet it is far enough to get away from the distractions and pollution of city life. I was at this thoughtful mood when the executive housekeeper showed up again to tell me that dinner was ready.

As usual the meal was immaculate. The guests were happily chatting with each other as though they were one big, happy family. After dinner, our friendly hostess grabbed my arm; she wanted to tell me something.

“Can I spend the night with you?”

“How could I resist a beautiful lady?” I told my sister. “And thanks for convincing us to stay over.”

His tan is masculine, not like a sissy. His body is wide and strong, though some parts are already showing signs of age. His long life has slowed him down a little, but I don’t care. A visit to his doctor put some lease on his tired knees, the cranking joints though old are now rejuvenated. I bathed him, shampooed him, and caressed his old body, though at first he was reluctant to have my masculine hands pat his entrails; he gave trust for I was gentle and kind.

I took him home to my family, to my kids, to my safety. I made him one of us and I his man-lover. How long has it been? And each day, each passing day has been a delight since.

“This is Mr. Brown,” I told my wife. “He’s going to stay with us.”

“He’s too old,” Wendy said. “I hope he doesn’t eat too much.”

But he did. Mr. Brown, maybe a few years removed from retirement, possessed giant appetite, a drinker who doesn’t merely sip, but quaffs.

Having Mr. Brown with us has been a source of joy. I especially liked his big body that not only protects me but my kids as well. We just love him. I spend a lot of my time handling him, and I let my kids handle him as well. My wife learned that it’s futile to resist.

One day, I, Mr. Brown and She, went for a field day trip. We simply enjoyed each other, we shared love and attention and soon my wife was having a little private rendezvous with Mr. Brown. Boy, how I love the sight of them together. My wife finally understood that love is meant to be shared. Good times, sadly, have endings and it came a little too early. We have to let go of Mr. Brown, as painful as it heavy in our hearts. I have not yet told my kids that Mr. Brown will not return, that the fun times ended last Friday.That Mr. Brown has found a new home.

“Is this the Toyota Corona 1992 Model?” asked the man who would become Mr. Brown’s new companion. “I’ll take him!”And so it was done.

Good bye Mr. Brown. I was not able to explain to you why we have to let go. That the pain is just as heavy in my heart, that I will forever remember you. You are our first car – it’s a spot not even a new model can replace. So long, I hope you give all your best to your new owners. And if not, at least, you knew, once in your long life, that I became a part of it, and I loved you.

Olber’s Paradox is the argument that the darkness of the night sky conflicts with the assumption of an infinite and eternal static universe (Wikipedia).

To understand the implication of this argument, we first need to appreciate an inference derived on the argument for static universe. Static Universe simply states that the universe we know and experience is stable, neither contracting nor expanding.

Static Universe is a basis for Darwin’s theory of evolution. That all that is needed by nature is already in its proper place, needing only time and luck, and evolution to form into something else. Like a fungus evolving into man. Static universe then is a strong argument against God, who the Bible says is the creator of all things and is still at work in the world. If everything is already in place in the physical phenomena, it negates the Bible. It’s that simple. Besides if the Bible is really the word of God, then it cannot err, which assumption “static universe” destroys.

Why so? Because static universe, first and foremost, denies that the universe has a beginning. The Bible tells us the God created the universe out of nothing. Surely, it must have a beginning, possibly instantaneously with time (as we know it).

And yet, if everything is already in its right place, why do we observe that night is dark and not simply bright? This is the Olber’s Paradox, also called the “dark night sky paradox.”

“The basic statement of Olbers’ Paradox is that, in a stable, infinite universe, the night sky should blaze with the light of the stars that lie in all directions, even those far away.” (arachnoid.com/sky/olbersparadox.html).

If the universe is static, then the light emitted by one star will start to touch the light emitted by other stars so much so that over time the light in all directions would have touched each other and the sky even at night will bright. But if the stars are moving, either through expansion or atrophy, this light will never touch. And this is explained by the Big Bang Theory which simply states that there is a beginning. And thus, the night sky will remain dark since the universe is expanding to a certain degree until it contracts.

Think of it this way, if no one can disprove Olber’s paradox then static universe, which is so far the strongest criticism to a God who is a Creator, then God must exist for He is the cause who caused everything to exist. But can He be a caused cause? No, infinite regression is illogical.

So why did God made the night sky dark? Its because he left a trace for man to discover.

Next we shall try to explain the uncaused cause argument.