The Dark Side of Bohol’s Bilar Manmade Forest + An Appeal to People Planting Trees

•May 18, 2016 • Leave a Comment

Traveling Light

It was quiet, very quiet. All around me dark mahogany trees rose to the sky.  I basked in the silence as I walked around and admired thick trunks and roots flowing like tiny rivers. The occasional patches of sunlight breaking through the canopy made the silent forest all the more magical.

It was so beautiful that it was hard for me to imagine that this was not a forest made exclusively by nature. In fact, its name said it all – Bilar Manmade Forest.

I felt I was walking in a fairytale woodland, only to find out much later the chilling truth.

I have long since admired the forest and the hands that planted it. The two-kilometer forest was planted as part of a reforestation project started more than 50 years ago, to replace trees lost from widespread kaingin (slash-and-burn farming) in Bohol. During my two visits to the forest…

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IMPROV: BOOK US! #switchimprov

•November 15, 2015 • Leave a Comment


IMPROV: Book #switchimprov

•November 10, 2015 • Leave a Comment

Making your parties, unique and full of entertainment, this Christmas season.



My beef with Bongbong Marcos

•October 23, 2015 • Leave a Comment

Teddy Casiño


True, Bongbong Marcos cannot be made to account for his father’s sins. He is just the son. He was a kid when his father imposed a corrupt and brutal dictatorship over the country. It is not his fault to be the son of Ferdinand and Imelda and to have grown up so used to the trappings of absolute power and shielded from the realities of ordinary Filipino lives.

But he is accountable for many other things. Let me count the ways:

  1. Agreeing to and taking part in his father’s corruption, human rights atrocities and other abuses when his family was in power.
  2. His continuing cover-up of his family’s ill-gotten wealth and complicity in various schemes to rob the Filipino people.
  3. His continued enjoyment of such wealth and its use to keep his family in power.
  4. His continued denial, despite facts, historical accounts and official documents, of the atrocities of his parent’s conjugal dictatorship.
  5. His…

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the little things.

•September 28, 2015 • Leave a Comment

2 years in and i am still infatuated with the fact that i have a beautiful wife and a cute daughter. i did not plan this. no one plans this shit. those lists that you create when you were young. those supposed bucket lists that are achievable only if you earn gold and doubloons. of course, there is a plan somewhere, sort of, when your foot is inside the circle. YES, THE CIRCLE. you know, the circle?

you fly with your guts. you pestle your emotions. you agree with what the world is telling you. and these sacred things are the bigger picture.

we are often enamored with the grand scheme. the wanderlust of life. the extremities of such. sometimes, we are leaving the supposedly useless things behind. we barge through all those tiny things around us. and boy, we are usually wrong.

eating dinner made by your wife, different sounds of laughter from your daughter, and simply walking from your house and walk a quarter of a kilometer to buy something while tagging your whole family with you is definitely the perfect memory.

everything is fast-paced nowadays. maybe it’s better to stop and look and smell. maybe, she’s cooking adobong paa ng manok.

:: well, yeah ::

•June 29, 2015 • 2 Comments

When life gives you lemons; well, yeah…

Maybe in this lifetime, I was not meant to exist. Maybe in this lifetime, I should have been a rag or a dust or a floormat or anything disgusting (don’t forget barf too!) to experience such ludicrous and excruciating unavoidable unnecessary things that would often make myself wonder with, “nananahimik naman ako dito. what is your problem?”

Maybe, and just maybe, I exhibit a bullseye over my forehead to take the fall, to take the hate, and to take everything else in between to achieve such.

Or maybe I am just an evil person and I am not fully aware about it. And this one is more acceptable as everything is easily justified. Just like any wrestling heel.

You invest friendship. You lose. You dare to be enigmatic. You lose. You even experience the hate first hand and you’d come up as the bad guy when you retaliate.

You’d love to fight back. But is there a point in all these.

All Pinoy musicians are dumb, submissive and scared shitless of white people

•June 26, 2015 • Leave a Comment


master This is apparently the flawed impression of the caucasian Chief Operating Officer of Resorts World  Manila.

I say this because of an incident that happened recently.

Hotdog band was about to wrap up a lucrative deal with a reputable casino group and it involved the use of the song “Manila” which my brother, Rene Garcia & I (Dennis) created.

Sadly, the deal fell through because the prospective client found out that the lyrics of the song “Manila” was emblazoned on the casino floor of a competitive establishment.

Many people have been telling me about this but I never really found time to see it for myself.

So one day, I finally went and saw the “thing”. The core lyrics of Manila at the pricey Resorts World Manila – on display… without permission, without attribution, without remuneration and with absolutely no guilt.

Strategically positioned by the cashier's cage Strategically positioned by the cashier’s cage

I guess I wasn’t…

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i.m.prov 1. self-check.

•May 25, 2015 • Leave a Comment

the big fish in the sea comes in many shapes, sounds, colors, and sizes enamored by the possible distribution to the perfect consumptionist worthy of origin or also, a plain survivor. as the survivor takes the worst percentage of the pie, he deactivates his social media and opts to enjoy the plain but sumptuous treat provided by the higher being. it may not be much but at the end of the day, it is better than nothing.

in reality, we think of the first and actually is the latter. we can always set it to the dreaded gray area but we end up with the bookends. given the chance to take the latter, as much as i would want to take what was provided, i have the choice to add a few more bites. though sometimes there are people happy enough to take the tiniest bite worthy of an astronaut meal. yes, an astronaut meal ready to get sucked in the black hole that goes through a worm hole and provides the worst time space dimension that one can even extend to: Sam Raimi’s Army Of Darkness’ last scene where Ash ends up alone.

i have to admit that improv philosophy is one hell of a herculean task especially to the unwilling. even if everything is handed, given, and provided, it usually emits the most dangerous proportions of what the ID could handle. it’s the decades worth of survival versus the am i happy fraction. and it eventually kick the nuts of the good vibe improv majority wherein chances are always offered to the point where the true reality kicks in. that people can be unknowingly selfish in the world of improv and if self-awareness kicks in, a dangerous tool to use albeit mostly successful initially, a probable word war three is taken into account unless defcon 5 releases its alarms to warn and hopefully contained and creates an action plan after.

of course, the greater scale is filled with everything that we-must-not-name. politicians taking the money of the people, security guards power-tripping, and even blue-collar restaurant workers donning the usual cat-and-mouse routine. reality is a vicious cycle yet the optimism is the lonely voice trying to start its own people power. and just like what i said earlier, a lonely voice is better than nothing. if handled and supported properly, it may be the right action plan throught the eye of a needle. it is plain sucky yet extremely satisfying if ends up a success.

i actually posted something like this on twitter a while back, that we are fierce creatures designed to throw all self-awareness through the window. a sad plight indeed.

:: world tb day ::

•March 23, 2015 • Leave a Comment


:: bottom dollar baby ::

•March 23, 2015 • Leave a Comment

Two hours in and I am not ecstatic to touch, hear, feel, and see the raucous two-colored programming language of the old and still running strong. I am fighting a losing bout. I am still there but I am ready to give up. No, I am still fighting and I have a feeling that I am losing but as you can see, I am still here, trying to mend with this ugly Gemini. It’s not easy. It’s never easy.

I know something is wrong in me, within me, and inside of me. But I need to brush it aside as I need to be the building block, foundation even, of the people around me. The fighter in me says I still can while the ultra-sensitive delicate me wants to just stay there, sit, act dunce, and play dead. Acceptance of such is actually ultimately hard. I knew it was hard and again, I am still fighting it. It’s not easy. It’s never easy.

Maybe, I just miss the old me: carefree, stupid, naive, joker, and willing to move on whatever shit is thrown at him. Nope. Not gonna happen. Adult life is different. It’s very tricky. It’s very suicidal actually. It’s the shit. It is one great fuck, both good and bad. I’m not even sure if the fluids inside are just acting up. BUT I have this feeling as of recent. I try to shy away. I try to move on. I even packed excess baggage. I do not know which one, and which are not working. I am a mess. It’s not easy. It’s never easy.

Sulking doesn’t work. Moping doesn’t work. As said, I really do not know what is happening but I am regularly upset and angry. I hope it’s okay to walk miles. I hope it’s okay to still do improv. I am trying to work these things on my own. I don’t want to be a burden to other people. I’d rather hear their stories, their problems, their life. It’s fairly different nowadays. I actually can’t do those things. If I refocus my energy to make it lovelier, I would. Or maybe, just maybe, I should write more. I need to stop the senseless Facebook games and continue with music, books, and the cinema. Spend more fabulous time with my family. I think that’s the solution. It’s not easy. It’s never easy.

Dear Jay-r, accept what is happening. Do not be extra-sensitive about everything. It’s not about you, maybe sometimes. But it’s not always about you. You are turning 34 and you need to rebuild your life to a better tomorrow. Tomorrow is really near. 25 years is no joke. You need to accomplish more. You need to travel more. You need to laugh more. You need to listen to more indie music. You need to watch more films. You need to read more books. You need to rekindle your life with your friends even if you can’t connect with them physically. You need to improve your improv and spend beautiful time with these extraordinary people. You need to spend more time with your super lovely wife. You need to teach your child and love her selflessly.

This is the first time I have to shout, in a really long time, of what I am currently feeling. Writing really helps.