echoknowmix

In the light of Mike Enriquez' outburst on GMA News tonight, I urge you all to please, please, please protect our journalists. There's a reason why during wartime, and during Martial Law, it's always crucial that communications and news outlets are shut down first. This is because journalists write the truth, and the truth is never what oppressors want the masses to see. They want the people to stay blind, spreading fake news and false hope and propaganda too shiny for anyone to  see the cracks. They want the people to stay quiet, removing all voices of the opposition through military interrogation and murder. They want the people to stay complacent, satisfied with what little they have and too scared to ask for anything more. But a journalist is none of those things; instead, he is restless, tenacious, and brave. Journalists breed revolution: against Spain, we had La Solidaridad; against America, we had La Independencia, El Heraldo de la Revolucion, and El Renacimien...

You’ve seen a meme, right? All of you have probably, most definitely, seen a meme if you’ve been using the internet at all for the past fifteen years. You probably know what it looks like: a funny picture, some text, and maybe some emojis. Memes are everywhere. From using them to make a funny post, to talk with your friends, to make jokes; memes are used everyday, for everything. But have you ever thought to question why? The truth is, memes have become a very important part of how we communicate nowadays, and even help develop language as a whole. Today, we’re gonna talk about one of the greatest cultural impacts that our generation has ever, and will ever, have: what they are, what we’re doing with them, and what they’re doing to us. So, what exactly are memes? Let’s start with the definition of a meme : g enerally, a meme is defined as something that is widely spread online on social media. Richard Dawkins, who came up with the word in the first place, or...

It was something I had never truly admitted to anyone, but even though I was a sure win for class valedictorian and a variety of other accolades, I found myself growing emptier and more apathetic about my life with each passing day.   Nothing was exciting or motivational for me anymore, and I spent much of my free time roaming around the school grounds alone while everybody else had class.   When I expressed my frustration at my sudden disinterest in anything that surrounded me one afternoon, saying that I didn’t want to be me anymore, my journalism coach simply told me that other people would die to have the life I’ve had; and I had to look down and bite my lip to stop myself from saying I think I’d die by having the life I’ve had. There was no single moment in which I decided that I would be moving to Iloilo; it was a simple tightness in my heart that increased every day, beating to the rhythm of I want out, I want out, I don’t want to be here anymore until I simply ...

 I never had a chance to deliver a Valedictory Address in my school days, though I had several occasions of writing for my students and my daughter when she was in prep school because during her elementary school, she wrote her own valedictory address.                  Looking at the meaning of valedictory which means farewell, goodbye, parting – just the thought of it draws me to sadness.   But on the other hand, a valedictory gives one a chance to thank people who had been vital in the success of another.   It also brings back the memories of struggle and triumph over challenges overcame and a realization that success is not handed over, but worked for.   I am drawn to a conclusion that I, too, can make my own valedictory not as a top academic achiever but a   Mom of a graduate.                 ...

I was invited to a gathering where people were given citations for exemplary jobs done.  As the proceedings went on, I saw this young lady moving back and forth doing almost all sorts of things to make the affair go smoothly.   I seem to lose energy just by looking at what she was doing. Before the end of the ceremony, a high ranking person,  gave a speech mentioning names whom I heard to be division heads or supervisors of some sort.  Listening to all those litany of praises for a job well done, the face of that lady rushing back and forth attending to every minute detail of the ceremony flashed into my mind.  To me, this little lady deserves the recognition as well. In a corner not far from me, I saw that lady clasping her hands and giving a deep sigh of relief as the ceremony came to an end. In most cases, recognition is not accorded to people who deserves the most, simply because they are not heads of offices or prominent people, or perhaps the...

Since I, regrettably, can't attend a very special event tomorrow, here's a special message from me to my family, and anyone who wants to read. I'm used to death. My father died when I was 11, my grandmother died when I was 13, two of my uncles died when I was young, and I never even got to meet my grandfather. I'm used to bittersweet stories and sad longing and overwhelming grief. I'm used to funerals and going to the cemetery for Father's Day and tragic smiles over what coul d have been. My uncle died when I was 15, just a week ago. It was an accident and unexpected and because of that, all the more devastating. In Les Misearables, Marius sings, "There's a grief that can't be spoken." And I can see that all around. There's the grief of his wife, his children, his siblings, his mother, his father, his friends, his family. There's the grief of his boss, of his neighbors, of his former classmates, of the people who used to buy...

A Modest Proposal for Preventing the Continuation of Political Dynasties in the Philippines, and for Ensuring That Members of Other, Less Influential Families May Win the Elections It is a melancholy object to those, who know the great and long history of our beloved country, or to those who are even vaguely familiar with Philippine politics, to see a yellow ribbon. Once the symbol of the epic yet peaceful revolution inspired by the death of an influential leader and the grieving of his wife, it became a symbol of democracy. These yellow ribbons are often seen during the commemoration of this same event, or during Ninoy Aquino’s death anniversary. However, its most memorable recent reappearance was when Aquino’s son ran for president – and thus, the yellow ribbon became a symbol for the Aquino family and their reign in the field of politics. Time and time again, other families have begun to follow this staple: if they were politicians, then so would their children. It is not unco...