Unbounded

Hullo. This time, I’ll be babbling on the underground economy of barkers.

Dirty Laundery

The journalist inside me (tabloid?) sparked again when I first wrote about the existence and prevalence of barkers in the metropolis, gleefully shouting and pretending to help my fellow commuters, free from apprehension, and more noticeably, free from the arms of the law (ehem, to sidetrack, I was told that barkers are now required to get their licensees. As to licensures to do what, I do not have a clue. And we psychologists have been battling it out in our country’s legislation to get our practice license).

Anywho, I interviewed a jeepney driver in Manila and asked about these schmucks. He revealed to me that barkers are actually in cahoots with the law (isn’t that something new), that the money they get from tips serves two purposes: that one, they are indeed tips given by FX and jeepney drivers as appreciation for their help in facilitating passenger boarding; and (a darker one) two, that it also serves as dirty money, somewhat a bribery to the law (well, not really to the law but to the policemen covering these road areas), so that they would turn a blind eye to colorum public transports.

In other words, barkers serve as kotong launderers.

Another interesting note to be taken is that the (eloquent)driver that I talked to specifically mentioned that a barker (together with hisno good police friends or corrupt people in the barangay) would be able to fill up a bucketful of coins from their day’s worth of racket. As to how much? Five hundred pesos worth (assuming that the law already got their cut) - well more than enough to buy themselves bottles of their local cheap gin to disinfect their livers with every night.

Well now, isn’t that something? An organized underground economy of kotong laundering.

I wasn’t content with what that jeepney driver said that day so I sought out to do some statistical analysis. Yep, I’m serious. I was able to compute and test whether a barker would be able to earn 500 pesos worth of tips a day using inferential statistical analysis (t-test).

Counting Change

I used a two tailed t-test inferential statistical analysis to see whether it’s true or not.

Of course, one would have to take liberties as to the “workhours” of a barker, since no one in his right mind would ask him about his set schedule of labor. So, I assumed that a barker would assume his duty (as a euphemism for “work”), about five (5) hours aday (intermittently from 1pm to 10pm, from my fragmented observations), for five hours a week.

Now, consider this observation matrix that I made on barker tips:

[link]

Filling in the blanks, assuming Mondays and Fridays as peak days (wherein more tips would be given at less amount of time, the mean tip amount / hour a barker would receive on a day would be arithmetic mean = P54.67 / 60 min

[link]

t = 0.6173, by conventional criteria (α = 0.05 levels ofsignificance), this difference is considered to be not statisticallysignificant. This means that the computed data of a barker earning of about P546.70 in ten hours (a day) is neither significantly bigger nor smaller from the P500/ day that the jeepney driver shared. This suggests that 1: it is possible to reach a P500 / day quota, and 2: that the actual data computed is probably smaller that what is actually being collected. Why? Think about the cuts the police and the kagawads would take before you are left with the assumed P500 peso-bucketful of coins for cheap gin story.

So there. I leave this one open for your inputs and interpretations.

If I were to direct the upcoming transformers movie, I’d change the one-dimensional characterization of those robots and keep up to date with the themes explored in today’s superhero and graphic novels in introspection.

I’d portray Galvatron and Optimus Prime as middle-aged generals of their respective factions having existential and metaphysical crises. That’ll be cool. If they are sentient, they should be conscious and at least try to rationalize some phenomena in their universe.

Imagine. Galvatron consults Starscream: “Have you ever wondered how a multi-ton robot could transform into a small German Luger handgun? Where does the extra mass go?”

Optimus Prime confides to Hot Rod: “You know, I’ve always wondered where my container attachment goes whenever I transform into a humanoid robot. It goes outside of the frame and vanishes, yet it reattaches on cue.”

Half-baked

The most recent reports that several distinguished personalities in the field of show business and in sports, whom yours truly would have to stress their lack of background in political science, experience, and in a more sensitive sub-issue, the doubts about their intellectual capacities, reasoning abilities, and rhetoric, have taken their oaths to run for public office in their respective niches.

These are Richard Gomez, Cesar Montano, Rico J. Puno, for the senatorial positions; Alma Moreno, and German Moreno, for councilor positions; and of course, Manny Pacquiao for the Mayor of General Santos City, just to name a few.

There are no apprehensions as far as this writer is concerned for the said individuals to run, per se, that lines should be drawn whether one is capable of holding positions requiring mere responsibilities of executions (as with councilor positions) or of legislature.

Half-breed

Another discouraging observation that should be mentioned is the total purposelessness of our government multi-party system. What was once an exhibition of integrity by the politicians of yesteryears in their polar ideological alignments (eg. LP vs. NP), is now bastardized by each parties’ fragmentization, and the emergence of pragmatic coalitions (see related editorial article on PDI [link]) to suit the current need for bandwagon identities. Indeed, candidates today should be seen, not based on their affiliations, but for their personal abilities (see Federico Pascual Jr’s opinion [link]). With conviction, this is a huge insult, not only to the maturity of Philippine politics, but also, and ultimately, to the aptitude of the Filipino people (and by people, I am both referring to the educated voters and also to the masses).

Strategic moves set about by the likes of Sen. Teresa Aquino-Oreta (whom readers should be reminded, is the sister of Benigno), and Vicente Sotto III (who is an entertainment personality) are but indications of the decrepit and deteriorating state of our ideological convictions, from honor, to opportunism.

Considering the current progression (and the term is used loosely) of the current constitution and local laws after the Marcos oust, isn’t it time to review the necessity to return to a bi-partisan party system, or are ulterior motives (or to put it more bluntly, fears) being felt by the incumbent legislators? Apprehensions of loss of political power are difficult not to conceive.

Half-buried

Now, consider this conspiracy theory. Could it be possible that with all these distractions (referring to these ill-equipped candidates), who are very likely to align themselves with the Unity Ticket (for my friends at home or abroad, who have not kept up with our nation’s current events, the Unity Ticket is a government coalition equivalent to the administration stable, as opposed to the UNO, or United Opposition) are strategic moves weaved by the incumbent administration for the promotion, and ultimately for the success of changing our form of government from the republic to the parliamentary position?

It will be a vicious circle considering we, the people will be the ones putting these senatoriables, and others into their royal velvet padded seats. Realizing that inept buffoons would be incapable of writing effective laws, moves to endorse charter change will yet again come to pass.

For further reading, try to consider reading Crisline Torres (who’s this proud writer’s aunt by the way) paper on the parliamentary and presidential debate, at the Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism website ([link]).

And yes, that was a shameless plug.

Half-hearted

Finally, what do we have in all of this? This leaves the Filipino voter unenthusiastic, to exercise their right to elect. Wouldn’t it be the perfect time for say, our Department of Health secretary, Dr. Francisco T. Duque, to advocate abstinence?

An analogy is all but left in the end, that our country is like a half-baked cake, baked by a half-hearted chef. And best of all, who could not resist all the nuts that’s sprinkled on top of it?

Why is it that every time when you’re running late, commuting, the sun will always be at its brightest, hottest, that the air conditioning of the car you’re riding will always be broken, that the driver will always drive slow, and that there will always be a whining, crying baby/kid right beside you (with drool and sticky baby/kid sweat)?

So I was running terribly late yesterday, helplessly realizing that Fridays along Espana and Quiapo will always be packed with cars, an hour and a half in the ride (damn devouts!), when all of these happened (I’m not exaggerating, heh).

But wait, it gets worse (or better, depending whether you hate me or like me lol).

Two snooty cono gals got on the back of the white FX (this happened when we were stranded beside the Quiapo Church) where I was in (at the back as well). Funny thing is that, at that time, middle seats were spacious and that we were three guys full at the back. To make the long story short, five sweaty people were cramped at the back of the car when there’s perfectly no reason for it. Oh yeah, one last thing, the two gals were full-figured. Well, imagine that…

******

On a related note, Jeco, can you please explain to me the Economics behind barkers? You guys know what I’m talking about. I’m referring to those arrogant rag-tag, ex-convict looking, burly looking guys (who could well put their physique into better use by, say, working at the wet market carrying goods, or be hitmen, lol) who does nothing whole day except shout and pretend that they’re helping passengers look for the FX destinations that they need. And in turn, drivers mandatorily give tips (or alms in my eyes) to them.

I absolutely fucking hate them. They serve no purpose and their existence should not be promoted, tolerated even.

I’d like to see the day where drivers would go insane and visualize barkers to be pylon roadblocks.

The Master And Margarita (Mikhail Bulgakov)
The Lord of The Flies (William Golding)
Hannibal Rising (Thomas Harris)
The Little Endless Storybook (Jill Thompson)
Absolute Sandman Vol. I (Neil Gaiman, Sam Kieth, Mike Dringenberg, and Charles Vess)
The Facts In The Case Of The Departure Of Miss Finch (Neil Gaiman, Michael Zulli)
This Earth of Mankind (Pramoedya Ananta Toer)
All I need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten (Robert Fuhlgum)
Super System II (Doyle Brunson)
Death Jr. vol. I & II(Gary Whitta and Ted Naifeh)
Parasite Eve (I've just read that the english translation for the japanese novel ten years ago just came out. Hideaki Sena)
The Nasty Bits (Anthony Bourdain)
Kitchen Confidential (Anthony Bourdain)

Bad Karma.

About a week ago, I wrote something about the almighty Lord punishing me by making me a certified gay magnet. I then went on babbling by giving irrefutable and irrevocable proof. This week, methinks that the One above is still not done with proving His point as He made this classmate of mine give me decaffeinated coffee sachets. No reason, just because. And it’s that absence of rational motivation that scares me the most (meep!).

If only the Philippine law would be so lenient to hate crimes, the world would then be able to give room for one more new classmate for me to acquaint with.

What’s Worse?

Oi, speaking of unfortunate events, in that same class that I attend, I’m classmates with, yep, you’ve guessed it, a recruitment specialist from a distinguished telecom company who failed me once when I tried applying. I am certain that it’s her (well, besides the same name. doi.) because she can’t see me in the eye when I look at her.

Indeed, it does. I realized that tonight when I chummied up with a new classmate.

In what I would like to assume as Filipino kindness and hospitality (and oh, please let it be so), HE invited me over to his place for company, and that he’ll cook native Zamboangan dishes for me while we were riding the train home. He’s a kind chap, but I politely declined.

Thank you, God, for making me a gay magnet. Crap.