A Grammatically Wrong But Heartfelt Letter For Actress Sarah Silverman In The Form of A Stream of Consciousness Litany About The Cebu Blogging Summit
Dear Sarah Silverman:
Hi. What have you been at lately? How's Martin Sheen? And have you read any David Foster Wallace? Anyway, last week was the Cebu Bogging Summit, a comic-con version for bloggers who want to be writers and changers of the limits of media. I'd like to dhare with you what I felt as an organizer of the event.
What I felt like was I was an apostle of a Jesus Christ fellowship. We were all following this one Jesus Christ and the beautiful part is no one in us knows who the Jesus is. It's like we've become believers of Jesus Christ and at the same time don't believe that he exists in the room we're preparing. Maybe the Goal of Serving the public was our alternative deconstructed version of Jesus Christ? Maybe we thought of ourselves as the Jesus Christ and by helping the summit via non-profit work, we give service to ourselves, which in this context is The Jesus Christ we believed in?
Maybe we redefined Jesus Christ as a person and turned him into an advoacy? You can't talk about advocacy these days without being labelled as pretentious and self-serving, and that means those who serve are brave enough to withstand judgment from the maliciously uninformed people who most likely need some medical help and attention. And I agree with you when you said about Saving All The Money In The World and Givin Everyone Therapy. There is seriously something wrong with your mental health if you find yourself doubting about the intentions of those who help you even after you've spent hours analyzing the facts presented. There is such a thing as jumping off the cliff and making a decision if something is malicious or not. You can doubt all you want but if you want to appreciate what the true intention of the people behind the CB summit, you just have to believe that it was not about anything but just a collective effort to serve.
It was like we were enchanted the way I assume cult members are probably enthralled by their Cult Masters or the way I asuume a person in love must have felt. There was blind trust involved in helping the summit without expecting any monetary reward. There was an expectation before the summit, but it was the kind of expectation that everyone seems to expect of anybody: decency, fair share of labor, community help.
There was free love, there was a division of labor that felt free, and ineffable, and just plain old simple good. That must be the kind of true service that Noynoy felt when he gave himself all. It was gratifying. It was pure organic elation for me without the added artifical boosters from caffeine, from sugar or anything that's made of junk.
This is the kind of work that I think Leonard Cohen must have mentioned when he said something like, Being Employed is different from Having a Job. You can have a job and not be employed. Being an employee should have noble connotations and should be what a citizen should be looking for. It could be more convenient to do your work and derive your money needed to survive funds from that work, but that doesn't seem to matter. So long as you have food, books, movie, tv shows to feed your inside spirits with, and a house you can stay in that's ventilated, non-noisy, even if it's in the house of a friend, then you're still living a meaningful life that makes you want to live more.
I guess this is the reason why those people we think are struggling in the supposedly slum areas should not be dismissed as unhappy. Telling them their unhappy is rude in that it assumes that you living in a "I Have a Car and A Mortgage Obligation " lifestyle is so much better and more fulfilling than the lives in the streets.
You have only yourself to improve, and if you're lucky enough to improve yourself and not feel alone just by earning for your own, then so be it. But an unofficial comparative study I made would instead argue that it is only in helping others so hauntingly devoid of monetary compensation can someone feel more fulfilling.
Or not. Okay I gotta go. Too many words, so little time.
Yours,
Not Mine
Hi. What have you been at lately? How's Martin Sheen? And have you read any David Foster Wallace? Anyway, last week was the Cebu Bogging Summit, a comic-con version for bloggers who want to be writers and changers of the limits of media. I'd like to dhare with you what I felt as an organizer of the event.
What I felt like was I was an apostle of a Jesus Christ fellowship. We were all following this one Jesus Christ and the beautiful part is no one in us knows who the Jesus is. It's like we've become believers of Jesus Christ and at the same time don't believe that he exists in the room we're preparing. Maybe the Goal of Serving the public was our alternative deconstructed version of Jesus Christ? Maybe we thought of ourselves as the Jesus Christ and by helping the summit via non-profit work, we give service to ourselves, which in this context is The Jesus Christ we believed in?
Maybe we redefined Jesus Christ as a person and turned him into an advoacy? You can't talk about advocacy these days without being labelled as pretentious and self-serving, and that means those who serve are brave enough to withstand judgment from the maliciously uninformed people who most likely need some medical help and attention. And I agree with you when you said about Saving All The Money In The World and Givin Everyone Therapy. There is seriously something wrong with your mental health if you find yourself doubting about the intentions of those who help you even after you've spent hours analyzing the facts presented. There is such a thing as jumping off the cliff and making a decision if something is malicious or not. You can doubt all you want but if you want to appreciate what the true intention of the people behind the CB summit, you just have to believe that it was not about anything but just a collective effort to serve.
It was like we were enchanted the way I assume cult members are probably enthralled by their Cult Masters or the way I asuume a person in love must have felt. There was blind trust involved in helping the summit without expecting any monetary reward. There was an expectation before the summit, but it was the kind of expectation that everyone seems to expect of anybody: decency, fair share of labor, community help.
There was free love, there was a division of labor that felt free, and ineffable, and just plain old simple good. That must be the kind of true service that Noynoy felt when he gave himself all. It was gratifying. It was pure organic elation for me without the added artifical boosters from caffeine, from sugar or anything that's made of junk.
This is the kind of work that I think Leonard Cohen must have mentioned when he said something like, Being Employed is different from Having a Job. You can have a job and not be employed. Being an employee should have noble connotations and should be what a citizen should be looking for. It could be more convenient to do your work and derive your money needed to survive funds from that work, but that doesn't seem to matter. So long as you have food, books, movie, tv shows to feed your inside spirits with, and a house you can stay in that's ventilated, non-noisy, even if it's in the house of a friend, then you're still living a meaningful life that makes you want to live more.
I guess this is the reason why those people we think are struggling in the supposedly slum areas should not be dismissed as unhappy. Telling them their unhappy is rude in that it assumes that you living in a "I Have a Car and A Mortgage Obligation " lifestyle is so much better and more fulfilling than the lives in the streets.
You have only yourself to improve, and if you're lucky enough to improve yourself and not feel alone just by earning for your own, then so be it. But an unofficial comparative study I made would instead argue that it is only in helping others so hauntingly devoid of monetary compensation can someone feel more fulfilling.
Or not. Okay I gotta go. Too many words, so little time.
Yours,
Not Mine
