Showing posts with label Random Thoughts and Posts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Random Thoughts and Posts. Show all posts

Introducing enGráy: Your English-Waray Translator


Finally, there's this machine translator called enGráy (short for English-Waráy) that translates Waray sentences to English and vice-versa. I was able to try it and I was happy with what I discovered: enGráy works like Google Translate. The good thing about enGráy is that it is specific to the Waray language --  something that Google Translate cannot do at present.

This machine translator was developed by Maureen Lyndel C. Lauron, a 19-year old Waray speaker from Brgy. Pagsulhugon, Babatngon, Leyte. Maureen graduated Cum Laude at Visayas State University, Baybay City, Leyte, Philippines where she finished BS in Computer Science.

On Empty Houses and Well-Lighted Cafés

The deaf old man in Ernest Hemingway's A Clean, Well-Lighted Place is a relatable character for many of us, especially those who live alone. In Hemingway's story, the old man lingers in a café until the early hours of the morning. His nightly presence sparks a conversation between the two waiters -- one older, one younger -- revealing contrasting attitudes toward loneliness and human connection.



When people find themselves alone, without family close by, they often turn to friends. But when friends are busy with their own lives, a solitary place of refuge -- like the café  for the old man -- becomes a sanctuary. In these quiet places, one can collect his/her thoughts and reflect on life's uncertainties.

The contrasts between the two main characters of A Clean, Well-Lighted Place depict two types of people -- the compassionate and the unsympathetic. The younger waiter is always in a hurry to go home to his wife after work. At one point, he even becomes rude to the old man and refuses his request for another brandy. His priorities are different because he is young and has the comforts of home waiting for him.

The older waiter, on the other hand, is patient and understanding, not only toward the old man but toward people in general. Perhaps it's because he, too, lives alone and has reached a point in life where he no longer feels the need to compete or chase after things. No loved one waits for him at home. He has only his job and an awareness of life's quiet emptiness. "Nada," according to him.

Often, it's only when people have experienced loneliness themselves that they learn to be truly sympathetic to the needs of others. Hence, the older waiter's statement: "Each night I am reluctant to close up because there may be someone who needs the café." He works diligently to keep the place clean and inviting, so that it can provide comfort to anyone who seeks it.

Loneliness carries a peculiar ache. Coming home to an empty house highlights what’s missing more than what remains. The familiar furniture and quiet rooms become constant reminders of absence.

Perhaps this is why some people seek out cafés, parks, or other well-lit spaces at night -- not to find cheap amusement, but to escape their solitude, to soften the edges of grief, and to wear themselves out until sleep comes more easily in an otherwise empty bed.



Baybay City's Dry Market: A Photo Story

In June, three editorial staff members of The Tiller - that's the name of our high school paper - and I attended a Camp Blog at Visayas State University, Baybay City, Leyte. One of the outputs we made was a photo story of Baybay's dry market section.

We were at the pubic market on June 24 from 3:00 to 5:00 P.M. where we took photographs of the area assigned to us. With us and the other participants were the Camp Blog facilitators and Mr. Jimmy Domingo, a photojournalist and our resource person for that activity.



This photo story is a product of long discussions and brainstorming among the group members and Mr. Domingo, but we give the biggest credit to Miguel Albert Taveros, The Tiller's Editor-in-Chief and layout artist for bringing to life our ideas through this output because of his knowledge of Adobe movie-maker.

Unclassified: The Jerk Factor

Why are some people jerks? What possesses someone to act like a jerk? Just how messed up in the head does someone have to be to derive some perverse sort of pleasure from being a jerk? I cannot understand the mind-set in such an individual. So why am I addressing this issue?

Yesterday I had to deal with a jerk -- a total jerk. I won't get into specifics, as we all have to contend with these lower life-forms from time to time. Are jerks born of jerks? Perhaps so. Look -- here's a jerk debouching from the mother jerk! Jerks live on the margins of politeness, circling the drain of total *sshole-ism, and are ultimately bound to plummet into its depths.

Venting? You bet I am!!! 


When one is basically a happy person, as I consider myself to be, these jerks really stand out. Maybe that's what elicits their jerk-like behavior -- sensing happiness in others, a happiness that they themselves lack.

Did you ever hear of the Peter Principle? Jerks were certainly factored into the formulation of the Peter Principle. In fact the higher a monkey climbs a pole, the more his ass shows!!!

Don't mind me.

I'm stark raving calm.


 





What Next?

(This is an entry from Absinthe.)

Ok, some titular head of a terrorist organization got whacked -- BFD!!! That's only today's big news. Just two days prior, the wedding of Prince William was the news. Not all that long before that, the Japan disasters. Trapped miners being rescued. Big earth in Haiti. Big earthquake in ... where was that? I don't even remember. It seems that the news media leads us all by the nose from one big earth-shattering event to the next, with hardly any time for a breath in between. What next?!?

Well, I'll tell you what's next for me - nada, nichts, waray, wala, N-O-T-H-I-N-G. I am so sick of being manipulated by this media circus and what they determine is of importance to us. It's time for me to get off of this mad merry-go-round ride spinning every day or two into some new crisis/event/disaster/celebration/discovery/death/etc. Remember the saying "think globally, act locally"? It's time for me to stop thinking globally, because it's too damn distracting. It's starting to blot out all the local. Now don't misunderstand me -- I'm not retreating into my cocoon and saying adios to all things external.

Back in my younger college days, I completely quit reading any newspapers. I also quit watching television for that same time period, which was about two years in duration, and you know what? I had a GREAT time. OK, perhaps my studies suffered slightly, I'll admit to that, but there wasn't much lacking in my life by not being constantly plugged in to the news media. If anything, I felt more attuned to my surroundings.

I look at my life then, and compare it to the here and now and see how much more people are plugged in to the world's technology. Ipods, iphones, geez -- everyone's so caught up in the latest electronic technology that I see constriction instead of new vistas being opened up. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a technophobe, but I'm not a techno-addict either. I just think... well, in a nutshell.... I guess what I'm saying is ...

What next?!?

It was Santa, Not Osama!

(This post originally appeared in Socyberty on May 4, 2011. Socyberty was one of the websites owned by Triond, an online writing site that was active in online publishing around 2007 to 2013. On the same day, I wrote a short introduction about the Socyberty post right here in my blog. That intro provided a back link to that post at Socyberty. I took this down (or reverted to draft) when Triond's multiple sub-sites completely shut down in 2016. Who wants broken links, anyway?  Lately, I have started  retrieving my posts from Triond 's sub-sites through the Internet Archive: Wayback Machine so I can give them a new home.)


-----

This morning I saw a little girl crying, so I asked her what was wrong. She said that she heard someone on TV say: "Oh, Santa is dead." I stood there quite perplexed why would anyone on TV say Santa is dead? Then the proverbial light bulb above my head lit up. She had heard someone say "Osama is dead", not Oh Santa is dead.

Photo credits: Santa, Osama

I tried to reassure the child that they were talking about someone else, not Santa, but she was not convinced. "He had the hat and beard it was Santa!!!", she said most emphatically, and I began to wonder. Sure, the colors are different: gray-bearded Santa versus dark-bearded Osama, but maybe this little girl was on to something. Let's look at the facts, shall we?

Where does Santa live? That's easy — the North Pole, but has anyone ever seen or photographed Santa's place? No. Where might Santa be then? Who's to say that he wasn't hiding in a compound in Pakistan? Perhaps that's where he really lives and has his workshop. Who would suspect that? After all, Pakistanis don't even believe in Santa, do they?  What a perfect place to hide. Sure, he had to give himself a different look so people wouldn't recognize him — change hats, dye the beard, cultivate that "I'm a homeless guy" image. Maybe Santa's not even really fat? OK, overweight — let's be kind. Maybe it's all padding that he takes off when he's done with the once-a-year Santa gig.

Think of how devious al-Qaida must’ve been to come up with this plan — tricking US special forces into whacking the Claus, but you know, this kind of makes sense. They swoop in with helicopters, kill who they think is Osama, then get hit with the ugly truth. “Oh my God, we really screwed up! We just killed Santa Claus!” Well, they certainly can’t leave Santa’s body lying around, so off it goes into one of the choppers. Maybe the other chopper wasn’t even really blown up, but hit a flying reindeer and crashed. Where to dump the body so no one will find it? Why, the ocean of course.

If you look closely at the news reports coming out of Pakistan, you can see crying elves (no, I said elves, not Elvis – this article deals with facts, not fiction) in the background, wandering around aimlessly – asking for handouts now that they are unemployed. I think there was even a shot of an empty sleigh.  What does this mean for us? Well, maybe that little girl was right, and maybe she wasn’t. We’ll just have to wait till Christmas time to find out the truth, won’t we?



A Royal Prophecy of Doom

Note: The following story blends history, rumor, and royal legend. Its claims should be taken with a grain of salt.

--
Conspiracy theories abound, and herein lies one of the most important but least known facts: the true reason behind British royals, up to now, only marrying other royals.

On Friday, 29 April 2011, Prince William is set to marry Kate Middleton. With all the planning involved, I certainly extend to the couple my best wishes and hope that everything goes off “without a hitch.”


Why, for so long, did British royals only marry other royals? Was it solely for political and economic alliances? There is a lesser-known fact -- a secret, really -- steeped in superstition and known only within the confines of British royal society: a centuries-old curse. A dark prophecy warns of apocalyptic consequences should a British royal ever marry a non-royal.

This article first appeared on Socyberty, a site under Triond.



Sounds far-fetched, to be sure, but consider the following:

In Winchester in 1087, King William had a survey created to list the ownership and worth of his kingdom. People of the time referred to it as the Domesday Survey, rumored to be the very Royal Prophecy of Doom to which I refer. King William died that same year.

Hints suggest that this shadowy bit of lore was passed down from monarch to monarch by word of mouth.

On 22 September 1327, the former King Edward II was brutally murdered in his cell in Berkeley Castle by having a red-hot soldering iron plunged into his bowels. What history does not record is that he was being tortured for information regarding this same Royal Prophecy, which he steadfastly refused to divulge. Was his successor contemplating marrying a commoner?

On Valentine’s Day 1400, the deposed King Richard II was hacked to death by eight assassins with axes in his prison at Pontefract Castle, on the orders of his usurper, King Henry IV. It’s said this was an attempt to secure information about the Royal Prophecy. Was King Henry IV also contemplating marrying a non-royal?

More intriguing still is a 1503 poem (celebrating the union between James IV and Margaret Tudor) rumored to quote part of the prophecy itself:

Original Dialect Version:
FOR GIFE THOW DOIS, HURT IS THYNE HONESTY
CONCIDDERING THAT NO FLOUR IS SO PERFYT.

Modern Version:
FOR IF YOU DO, HURT IS YOUR HONESTY
CONSIDERING THAT NO FLOWER IS SO PERFECT.

Perhaps the most compelling evidence came on 10 December 1936, when Edward VIII signed the instrument of abdication, paving the way for him to marry the non-royal Wallis Simpson. Did he abdicate to enjoy a long life (which he did -- living another 36 years, dying in 1972)? What did he fear if, as a king, he married a non-royal?

Is it only the monarch who fears the curse of the Royal Prophecy of Doom?

On Halloween 1955, Princess Margaret, third in line to the throne, declared that she would put duty before love and not marry (non-royal) Peter Townsend. Was she afraid of the consequences of marrying a non-royal if she were ever to ascend the throne?

It is my fervent wish that the happy couple’s wedding this coming Friday is a beautiful and joyful celebration.

--
Disclaimer: This article is a work of speculative folklore. While it references real events and figures, the so-called “Royal Prophecy of Doom” is not supported by verified historical records. It is intended for entertainment purposes only.