No Traces with a Drive Scrubber

English: Diagram of a computer hard disk drive
English: Diagram of a computer hard disk drive (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The other day Papsie and I watched Safe and the story revolved around a talented and intelligent girl that can memorize numbers and is very good at mathematical equations.  The leader of the Triad mentioned something like he would like the girl to remember a set of numbers because computers leave traces.  I instantly wanted to be in the movie and tell the old man that he can have a clean hard drive with a drive scrubber.  If he wants all the data in it can be erased that it can never be recovered, it can be done.

I do not know if the leader of that criminal gang will believe me knowing that these types of hoodlums do not usually trust easily (that is how they are portrayed and I think there is truth in it).  However, the writer/researcher failed in this aspect. Or the idea that wants to be conveyed is that crooks do not have time to learn but kill and do bad?  But at this point in time and age, technological knowledge is not new even, I bet, even among rogues and bandits.   They missed this point.

To summarize, we enjoyed the movie anyway.  Action-packed movies is what Papsie digs like that one where Liam Neeson starred.

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A Parent’s Lament

An icon illustrating a parent and child

When one feels indebted in her role as a mother, she gets confused if she is already crossing the line against her children’s own set of principles.  Then there is this nagging truth that they are already young adults and are trying to live their own in their own ways.  Sometimes though it can be annoying when children forget about little things like house rules where a mother or a father or a guardian is held hostage by love that demands understanding and patience.  Most of the time, a lot of these are required.

I am not demanding homage like they have to put me, and my other half, at the pedestal. Some parents can be this demanding. I give them freedom as much as I would want it given me – in generous amounts but taking into account sensibility or an emotional response to situations when needed.  Children at times though can be illogical, or irrational, even with kindness pushing parents to brinks of disgust .

It can be exasperating, I know, to always try to be fair and sensible when children do not seem to realize the effort it takes to at least become one good parent if not perfect.

I give myself time to ponder my own ways and principles. I frequently talk to my other half about assorted feelings of annoyance, frustration, or indignation.  It can be gratifying to have someone equally sensible and understanding, though we do not agree all the time, to stay sharp.  I think we both need these moments to keep afloat.

A parent’s lament is different from one to another.  I have mine, as I conceive it, as spice to this wonderful life as a mother, as a parent, as a friend to a child though I am his or her parent, and as a co-parent.  I have to say that there are more boons than snags.

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Some People Deserve to Live

And some deserve to die.  I know, I sound ruthless by saying these words but it is a fact that there are people who deserve to die when they do not care that thousands of their constituents and neighbors and fellowmen are dying of hunger for food, basically, and for the need of a better education, a better place to live in, and a healthy condition and situation.  Most people in the Philippines are hungry for good governance, as every good citizen would say, and yet the crocodiles and the vultures’ desires to get filthy rich do not waver but seem to grow stronger by day.

Then the death of Secretary Jess Robredo.  How can one good man be taken from us?  I do not know whom to address the question.  The One up there has his reasons probably – a thought that would suffice for the moment.  I just hope that his examples will be emulated, that his principles will live among those people he had lived with on a daily basis, and from time to time, and that the fruits of his labor be sustained and maintained for the betterment of many.  It is a slow process, as we are all experiencing, this path to a better Philippines, and I just have to hope that things could be better and that there are still Robredo clones in the list.

I mourn for the death of this good man.  I mourn because of the danger that lies ahead when those left would not fight for the principles of good governance.  I mourn because the number of good soldiers that combat against graft and corruption was reduced like a thousand.

Still, I would like to hope, and participate in any which way I can to make a better Philippines, for this good man, and for the country that he loves very much.  I salute you, Secretary Jess Robredo!

Rest in peace, Secretary Jessie Robredo.


Just feed one…

Actually, we fed two this morning.  They are brothers who roam the streets to find ‘kalakal’ or merchandise to be sold.  I immediately saw them as they walk towards the Kowloon branch where Papsie and I were eating our lunch. I learned they are brothers and live at West River Side. It is an area that also gets easily flooded.  The older brother is in grade four and he was really shy when I asked if they like to eat.  Unlike some of the boys we met on the streets, this boy was different.  The younger brother smiled eagerly and did not say anything, too.  Unlike the boys we met occasionally, these boys looked clean and were just forced to find merchandise on the streets probably for their baon, or for their food for lunch or supper.

I remember them as I look at Sidney Snoeck’s photo where a quote by Mother Teresa that says ““If you can’t feed a hundred people, then just feed one.”  I know with the many challenges these boys will soon have to face again, the siopao we gave will be immediately forgotten when hunger pangs attack again.  I just hope it will give them hope, that they will remember the act and let it be something they will be inspired to fight and be strong, and also to hold on.  I pray that they will be kept safe despite the dangers in the streets.

Borrowed from Sidney Snoeck

As I am writing this, the rains just stopped but still I feel anxious about the little children that live with their families along the nearby creeks, and rivers, and waterways.  It is just so cruel, so cruel.  Children do not have to live with scarcity, hunger, abuse, etc. caused by poverty.

It is just so cruel for those who thwart the truth behind the need to do something for the ever growing population where the most affected are the children.   I wonder if pursuing something like the RH Bill is more immoral than letting couples have a lot of children even if they cannot provide anymore and even if this could mean that the children will be in danger.  The population grew and is growing and nothing is being done to alleviate the condition of the poor.  The blame is always passed on to the government while these people do nothing, and with only misleading information on responsible parenthood.

The Little Boy in the Tricycle

I saw that innocent-looking boy of about 6 or 7 again.  He climbed the tricycle with his Grandpa.  He was made to sit on an improvised little seat inside the tricycle.

He looked at me again.  This time with mixed emotions as he stared at my face.  How he stared.  I stared back.  I know it is a little rude but I stared back.  I watched how his brows twitched and how his lips pouted.  He looked at me straight in the eyes that seem to challenge me to the game of ‘Let’s stare at each other and then see who wins’.

Then I began to wonder what he will be in the future.  That moment I was so fascinated with the little boy’s innocent looking face and cannot help wonder what he’d like to be. I fidgeted at the thought that he might go astray if proper guidance will not be given.  Children are so precious that it saddens me to see some of them roam the streets, unclothed, barefooted.

In the same road where I traverse almost everyday, I am seeing children grow without protection from the heat and the cold.  The scene always makes me feel hatred as it also seem that they do not go to school. It is absurd that nothing’s being done.  My several attempts to give food (and not money) will not make a dent to their situation.  It will not even give them something to look at the world as a nice place to live in.  Yet, I see smiles on their faces when they play.

It is that little boy in the tricycle that made me border on the difference. If only things are done the right way.