Lonely elderly woman finds dog under rubble of her house live on air after tornado hit
Ang miracle minsan naman talaga eh anjan lang sa tabi-tabi.
It’s 1997, and Steve Jobs has just returned to the company he was fired from 12 years before.
On stage at Apple’s World Wide Developers Conference, Jobs was holding a rare Q&A with developers when one audience member stood up and lobbed an insult at Jobs.
“Mr. Jobs, you’re a bright and influential man,” he starts out with a flat tone. The audience laughs in the pause.
“Here it comes,” Job responds with a smile.
“It’s sad and clear that on several counts you’ve discussed, you don’t know what you’re talking about. [Audience laughter]. I would like, for example, for you to express in clear terms how, say, Java and any of its incarnations addresses the ideas embodied in OpenDoc. And when you’re finished with that, perhaps you can tell us what you personally have been doing for the last seven years,” he says.
At that point, the audience fell quiet and someone is heard saying “Ouch.” (Jobs had spent the last seven years not at Apple.)
Jobs’ response in the five minutes that follows is a masterclass in how to gracefully turn an insult into an impromptu speech on vision.
First, Jobs politely responds.
“You know, you can please some of the people some of the time, but…,” Jobs paused. “One of the hardest things when you’re trying to effect change is that people like this gentleman are right in some areas.”
He acknowledges that there are things OpenDoc does that he’s not even familiar with, but that doesn’t stop him in planning Apple’s future.
“The hardest thing is: how does that fit in to a cohesive, larger vision, that’s going to allow you to sell 8 billion dollars, 10 billion dollars of product a year? And, one of the things I’ve always found is that you’ve got to start with the customer experience and work backwards for the technology.” You can’t start with the technology and try to figure out where you’re going to try to sell it. And I made this mistake probably more than anybody else in this room. And I got the scar tissue to prove it. And I know that it’s the case,” Jobs said.
“And as we have tried to come up with a strategy and a vision for Apple, it started with ‘What incredible benefits can we give to the customer? Where can we take the customer?’ Not starting with ‘Let’s sit down with the engineers and figure out what awesome technology we have and then how are we going to market that?’ And I think that’s the right path to take,” Jobs continued.
He apologizes for killing off some of the software, but passionately stands by his employees who were working hard to get Apple back to the place where he could hold up a box and people would go “Whoa! Yes!” and want it. (Think about what Apple events are like today.)
“Mistakes will be made, some people will be pissed off, some people will not know what they’re talking about, but I think it’s so much better than where things were not very long ago. And I think we’re going to get there,” Jobs concludes.
So there’s this boygroup in the Philippines called HASHT5, why the additional T you ask? Maski sila hindi nila alam, kidding. According to this YouTube video, HASHT5 simply means Have A Successful Honor Talent, mejo nayanig ang mundo ko pero deadskin, ibigay kung san sila masaya. Watch the funny interview below, just glad na hinde pikon tong grupong to, kasi baka magsumbong sila sa leader ng sindikato nila pag napuno na sila sa pangaasar ng mga netizens.
Speaking of pangaasar, I follow their FB group (oo, proud ako!) and mejo harsh na nakakatawa naman ang comment ng mga tao sa mga kaawa-awang batang mga ito, I’ll give you a some matitinding samples:
May mga nageffort pa talaga! Look!
Well, live and let live.
Credits to Patricia Evangelista and Rappler for this very inspiring story.
We know our place in the world. We are the port of last resort, and have little to offer the Rohingya beyond a separate peace. Yet I write this with pride, in the hope that there will always be a cluster of islands southwest of the Pacific, where no ship in need is called unwanted
THE UNWANTED. A Rohingya migrant eats food dropped by a Thai army helicopter after he jumped to collect the supplies at sea from a boat drifting in Thai waters off the southern island of Koh Lipe in the Andaman sea on May 14, 2015. Photo by Christophe Archambault / AFP
They said there were knives and ropes. They said there were riots over scraps. They said they were stabbed and beaten, and that there were days when their throats were so parched they drank their own urine. Some of them were hanged, others thrown overboard.
There was a risk of mass casualties, said aid groups. Drifting boats were turning into floating coffins. Ship decks were little more than a confusion of shoulders, ribs, and bony elbows. Rohingya refugees waved signs as navies towed rickety boats out to sea. The crisis had become a game of human Ping-Pong, with lives in play as countries took turns slamming the paddle.
There was a standoff, until early last week, when news broke that the Philippines had offered shelter to 3,000 boat people.
“The Philippines,” wrote The Telegraph, “has offered refuge to the thousands of migrants who have been stranded for months on boats after being repeatedly rejected and towed back to sea by Thailand, Malaysia and Indonesia.”
Justice Secretary Leila de Lima announced that refugees “cannot always be expected to obtain travel documents particularly where the agent of persecution is the state.” The United Nations High Commission on Refugees saluted the country’s “strong humanitarian tradition.” Post after repost streamed down timelines, prefaced with messages shared by aid workers and international protection officers and the occasional old friend from Australia.
This is how it’s done, they said. Look at the Philippines. Look at what they’ve done.
I suspect I am one of many who were initially confused, not so much by the reports, but by the general air of surprise and congratulatory glee resulting in the government announcement. An earlier report that the country would push back refugee boats – a misinterpretation later corrected by the government – was received with doubt by news editors and roundly protested on social media. Many of us assumed we would welcome the Rohingya. It was just a question of when.
There are some truths I know. The drowning season will begin in June. The bribes will be handed out long before the campaign period. The malls will fill with the sweating in the summer, the clowns will dance with the corrupt on television, and the ports will open for refugees, wherever they are from.
The people nobody wanted
They are the Muslims of Northern Rakhine state, more than a million strong, born in Myanmar with family going back generations. They call themselves the Rohingya.
Myanmar denies them even their name. They have, instead, been named “Bengalis,” identified by Myanmar as natives of a Bangladesh that disclaims them, called foreigners and illegal immigrants, subject to abuse and deportation.
The Rohingya have been called the most persecuted in the world, a Muslim minority whose mosques were burned by nationalists seeking “to protect Buddhism.” Most have been denied citizenship and evicted from their homes. Although they have been discriminated for decades, ethnic violence came to a head in 2012 when thousands of Arakan men, “armed with machetes, swords, homemade guns, Molotov cocktails, and other weapons descended upon and attacked Muslim villages,” torching villages and killing residents.
It was, as Human Rights Watch called it, “a coordinated campaign to forcibly relocate or remove the state’s Muslims.”
An estimated 140,000 fled into refugee camps, where conditions are difficult and food is scarce. Although they have not been permitted to leave, The Economist reported that in the first three months of 2015, 25,000 Rohingya, including those living on the borders of Bangladesh, bought their way into boats in an attempt to reach friendlier shores. At least 300 have died. Some of those boats drifted into the waters of Indonesia, Malaysia and Thailand – and forced the crisis that is now testing the convictions of the international community.
One boat in particular, abandoned by captain and crew, packed with swollen-eyed passengers, drifted into Thailand waters after an interception off Langkawi and Penang islands by Malaysian authorities. Passengers said they had been at sea for over three months. The ship, said The New York Times, “flew a tattered black flag on a bamboo mast,” with the words, “We are Myanmar Rohingya.”
The Thai navy repaired their engine, gave them provisions, and pronounced them ready to travel. A Thai reporter said the refugees were reluctant to go.
Thailand’s Lt. Cmdr. Veerapong Nakprasit said the navy had trained the passengers “to navigate on their own,” adding that it was “so they can reach their dream destination.”
For the Rohingya, the dream has become anywhere but home.
In pursuit of the dream
In 2014, according to the UN High Commissioner for Refugees, 9 Rohingya migrants were allowed into the Philippines “to be free from fear that they’re going to be sold again.”
“They were allowed to come into the Philippines while their processing took place, and regained a few kilos, regained their health, regained some dignity, and proceeded onwards to reach their resettlement countries,” said Bernard Kerblat, country representative of the UNHCR.
The Philippines was a temporary home, where the Rohingya stayed 5 months “to recover” before they were resettled.
“What was needed at that time,” said Kerblat, “is to find a sovereign state ready to accept them even for a short time. That is the important factor,” he said.
This is the Republic of the Philippines, pearl of the orient, cradle of the brave, ringed by fire and drowned by storm, where the disaster season begins in July, lasts until Christmas, then staggers into a rehabilitation period that ends when the next typhoon decimates another province.
Welcome to the last country outside the Vatican without divorce, the third most dangerous country for journalists, whose airport was celebrated for rising to fourth worst instead of first, whose road traffic maintains its place as the ninth worst in the world. This is where a doctor can be jailed for removing a fetus to save a mother’s life, where most live under the poverty line, and where it is possible, if you know where to go, to buy unmarked abortifacients in the back alleys leading to the Church of the Black Nazarene.
And yet, according to the UN, it is also the country that in 2012 became “the first country in the Asia-Pacific region to establish a procedure to protect both refugees and stateless people.” Of the many and varied ways we define ourselves, we are also a people who will open our ports to the very desperate.
It was not the first time. On September 8, 1937, a steamship named Gneisenau carrying German Jews escaping the Holocaust arrived in Manila, and was given official welcome by the Quezon government. World War II did not just bring in more Jews, but also Chinese refugees and residents of the British colony of Hong Kong. The Philippines remained open to refugees until December 8, 1941 – the day the Japanese arrived with their bayonets and burned cities to the ground.
“We would not be alive today if not for the Philippines,” said 84-year-old Lotte Hershfield. “We would’ve been destroyed in the crematorium.”
In 1949, the International Refugee Organization made an appeal to the international community for safe refuge on behalf of thousands of White Russians whose lives were endangered by civil war after the Bolshevik Revolution. Only one country offered protection – the Philippines, whose government granted temporary shelter to an estimated 6,000 Russians in the former naval base of Tubabao Island in Guiuan, Eastern Samar.
In 1975, the mounting massacres by the Khmer Rouge in the killing fields of Cambodia as well as threats from Vietnam’s new communist government sent thousands of refugees into exile. Refugees were provided with food, shelter and education by the Philippine Refugee Processing Center.
In the 20 years the center was in service, over 400,000 Indochina refugees passed through its doors.
‘We will take him home’
I write this in an attempt to understand, if only for myself, what seems to be a national impulse in a country that can barely support its own. It is a compulsion we have rarely questioned, but is now thrown into sharp relief by the crisis is the Andaman Sea.
There is no easy explanation. It may be little more than the practicality of living in an archipelago with porous borders. Or it could be what is left the American occupation, in much the same way as we kept free speech, secular governance and a great and abiding love for imported spam.
And yet it’s difficult to believe this is nothing more than a result of habit and circumstance.
It is the same impulse that has a barber who lost his shop in a typhoon offering jobs to the two barbers who lost their homes. It is an impulse that lives in the aftermath of disaster – the widow and her children surviving on looted goods dropped off by tattooed men, the father who wrapped the corpse of his neighbor’s daughter in clean sheets just after he lost his wife, the displaced mother who had lost house and child to war, and still insisted on feeding journalists out of her meager store.
In 2012, after Typhoon Pablo ripped through Compostela Valley, I was sent to New Bataan to cover the survivors. It was 5 days after the storm, and the evacuation center smelled of sweat and corpses. I remember a woman in her late fifties, a grandmother who had travelled 8 hours by jeep with her miner husband. They had come for their daughter, and were told she was dead, but that their two grandchildren had survived.
They were all going home, she said, to the house near the mines where the children would be raised as their own.
Her husband walked in, trailing a 9-year-old boy who clung to one hand. The boy was an orphan, said the miner, and had been snatched by a neighbor from the flashfloods in time to see his parents and older brother drown.
If no one claimed the boy, said the miner, they would bring him home.
The port of last resort
Today, Malaysia, Indonesia and Thailand have committed to the rescue of what may be thousands of refugees still at sea. Indonesia and Malaysia have already offered temporary refuge. A number of countries, including the United States, have promised resettlement assistance.
“It may be conceivable,” said the UNHCR’s Kerblat, “that the reiteration of the government of the Philippines to uphold their commitment to asylum may have contributed to encourage other member states to positively reconsider their position.” HRW Deputy Director for Asia Phelim Kine offered the same thought, calling the Philippines’ initial offer of asylum “leadership by example.”
I’d like to believe the Philippines had some influence in the sudden reversal of positions, but I am also well aware that the decisions could have just as well been a function of timing and circumstance. Aceh’s fishermen were rescuing boat people even before Indonesia officially allowed the Rohingya to disembark. Thailand and Malaysia, before their crackdown on refugees, have themselves given shelter to tens of thousands of Rohingya refugees.
The truth is that we’re not all that different. It is only that we took a stand, at a time when everyone else had decided they had done enough.
It is at these moments we are at our best, when we realize there is no one left to stand but us. I don’t believe there’s any irony in a Catholic country welcoming Rohingya migrants, in much the same way as there was no surprise when Jews and Protestants sailed into our ports. Our Muslim south is just as vehement in their demand we offer aid, promising land and protection to the Rohingya.
This is not about religion, as much as it is about loyalty and necessity and pride. We know what it is to live as underdogs. We have fought losing wars, have marched unarmed and singing towards a tyrant’s loaded cannons, and still stood cheering as our pound-for-pound national hero lost what may be recorded as the most monotonous boxing match in sports history.
Many of us recognize the reckless courage it took for the Rohingya to smuggle their children into tilting boats. It is the same sacrifice we’ve seen in millions of our own, who have risked abuse overseas for the sake of future and family. We know what it is to beg. We know what it is to stand at the receiving end of charity and contempt. Maybe this is why so many of us will look past political cost and practical considerations to the reality of bone and muscle and beating heart.
I don’t have the answers. All I know is that if the cost of generosity is be high, the price of our refusal will be much higher still.
The crisis is not over, but the Rohingya are now welcome in the ports of Indonesia and Malaysia. The Philippines is a distant shore, our ports no longer needed by a persecuted people who have begun their journey home. The Rohingya’s dream of a new land was never ours – a country big on dreams and short on reality, torn by conflict, wracked by disaster, whose own people look to the distance for greener pastures.
We know what we are. We are the port of last resort, and have little to offer beyond a separate peace. Yet I write this with pride, in the hope that there will always be a cluster of islands southwest of the Pacific, where no ship in need is called unwanted.
There are many days – when the thousands stand sweating at midmorning waiting for trains that do not come, when another toddler dies of piss-poor conditions in Zamboanga, when a chinless senator howls about the Muslim scourge, when another scandal and another charge and another whistle-blower takes over the headlines – when there is cause to be ashamed of who we are.
It is not today. Today, it is a grand and marvelous thing to be born a Filipino. – Rappler.com
Perhaps you have a friend who thinks all those celebrities whose nude photos were leaked on Sunday deserved what they got. “Anyone who doesn’t want their naked photos going public shouldn’t have ever taken them,” your theoretical friend argues.
Well, your friend surely wouldn’t feel the same way if someone hacked, say, his or her bank account instead of someone else’s iPhone. Or as The New York Times’ Farhad Manjoo put it…
Originally published by Huffington Post
More than 60 years ago, an “it” girl not dissimilar to Jennifer Lawrence also had highly suggestive and topless photos emerge into the public sphere, just as her career was rocketing from B-player to A-list star. A 23-year-old Marilyn Monroe, desperate for work, posed nude for art photographer Tom Kelley in 1949, receiving $50 for her time.
She made rent, and continued her fledgling career. It wasn’t until 1952, when two of the images from the shoot showed up in a calendar called Golden Dreams, that the photo shoot came back to (potentially) haunt her.
At first, it was mere speculation that the anonymous girl in the pages of the calendar seemed to look strikingly similar to one of Fox’s up-and-coming starlettes. But as it became increasingly clear that it was, in fact, Monroe nude on a bed of red satin, she urged her studio to let her guide her own PR strategy, one brilliant in its simplicity.
Instead of denouncing the images, Monroe took control of the narrative. She’d been hungry and behind on rent, and besides, she had always insisted that the photographer’s wife be in the room. “I’m not ashamed of it,” she told the press. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”
***click the link above for more details***
Lonely elderly woman finds dog under rubble of her house live on air after tornado hit
Ang miracle minsan naman talaga eh anjan lang sa tabi-tabi.
Be warned, this is intense,
I offer my prayers to the people injured in the Boston Marathon,
Jusme! Bomba levels and not in a Seiko way.
A US-based arts and culture magazine has listed the Philippines’ official Oscar entry “Bwakaw” as one of this year’s “50 Best Undistributed Films of 2012” in a yearend survey of more than 120 film critics, journalists, film section editors, and past and present contributors worldwide.
Published by the Film Society of Lincoln Center, Film Comment magazine annually releases the most comprehensive review of the year in film. Joining the film byJun Robles Lana in the top five films that made appearances at film festivals or special screenings worldwide, but remain undistributed, are Joachim Lafosse’s “Our Children,” Song Fang’s “Memories Look at Me,” Alan Berliner’s “First Cousin Once Removed,” andYing Liang’s “When Night Falls.”
Last October, “Bwakaw” was the only Asian film to make it to the prestigious list of TIME magazine’s “10 Films to Watch” at the 50th New York Film Festival, one of the world’s oldest and most anticipated film festivals organized by the Film Society of Lincoln Center.
Following its selection to the 8th Cinemalaya Philippine Independent Film Festival’s Directors’ Showcase category, “Bwakaw” has made rounds in various foreign film festivals such as in New York, Toronto, Hawaii and Tokyo where it garnered rave reviews from international film critics.
The bid of the film starring legendary actor Eddie Garcia to become the first ever Filipino film to be nominated for Best Foreign Language Film at the Academy Awards gets a strong boost as it continues to get a favorable standing in the leading Oscar prediction site AwardsCircuit.com.
Meanwhile, the 83-year-old Garcia won Best Actor for his role in “Bwakaw” at the Asia Pacific Film Festival held in Macau last Saturday (December 15). His powerful portrayal of a grumpy, old, gay man who comes out late in life has been gaining international attention that fuels the movie’s hope to take home an Oscar. Several critics, including Joey Magidson of AwardsCircuit.com and Larry Rohter of The New York Times, have even echoed comparison of Garcia to veteran Hollywood actor Clint Eastwood.