What’s the Formula for Evil?

So, I’ve been reading this book (halfway through it as of this writing) - The Lucifer Effect: Understanding How Good People Turn Evil. It’s a rather heavy read, almost like a college psychology textbook, but I love heavy reads once in a while. The book was written by Philip Zimbardo, a Stanford University psychology professor who conducted the infamous Stanford Prison Experiment back in the ’70s. He took a group of normal, healthy (physically, mentally and emotionally) male college students and placed them in a makeshift prison at the basement of Stanford University. Half were randomly assigned as prisoners and the other half as guards.

The objective of the study was to see how the students would react in an environment alien to them (none of them have been imprisoned before and none of them have been jailguards before). The study was supposed to last for two weeks, but about three prisoners already mentally and emotionally broke down by the end of the first week. On the other hand, in a matter of less than seven days, the guards became more and more aggressive toward the prisoners. The experiment was cut short because it was getting out of hand - almost all of them, guards and prisoners alike, forgot that it was just an experiment. They have immersed themselves in the role so deeply that it had altered their behavior.

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Where on Earth Is the Sun Hid Away?

I was always an avid fan of the rainy season and the -ber months, when the weather is cold for most of the day, not a lot of sunshine penetrating through the thick clouds. My favorite thing to do on rainy days is to curl up and read a book until I fall asleep. Coffee and hot chocolate seem more delicious on rainy days. I would sip it from my favorite coffee mug, delighting in the warmth it brings to my mouth and stomach. Mum also used to make sopas or champorado for breakfast when the weather is wet and cold, and my brother and I would slurp them down in no time.

Though I sometimes curse the rain for soaking my socks and jeans on my way to and from the office, I still prefer them to sweat-soaked blouses or shirts and me stinking already when my day has even barely begun. I’d rather be drenched in rainwater than sweat like a pig. On a superficial side, I also like wet and cold weather because I like wearing jackets, sweaters and coats. I have a corduroy coat, and that is my favorite. On an artistic side, if you will, I like gloomy days more because they’re more conducive, at least for me, for churning out creative works like prose or poetry or whatnot. It’s also more conducive to introspection and reflection.

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Just When I Thought I’d See Them Grow Up

Yesterday morning, we noticed that our two kittens were missing. We looked for them everywhere - under the car, amidst the plants on our porch, in our yard. They were nowhere to be found. Their mother was meowing for them to come out, and she was lonely throughout the day, as if grieving for her dead children. She would look at me, just staring into my eyes, as if telling me something was wrong. We were worried as well.

A few theories came to our minds to possibly explain their disappearance.

1. They wandered off and never found their way home. But this would be contrary to their domestic nature. Cats as well as dogs always come back home unless something terrible happened to them. They always find their way home no matter how far they wander off.
2. They were kidnapped by the neighborhood kids. The kittens could slip right under our gate and would sometimes wander on the street, so we thought they might have been picked up by a neighborhood kid who wanted a pet. But they disappeared in the night, and the kids went home in the afternoon, making this theory highly unlikely.
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   Tags: animal bahevior cats pets
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Discovering Old and New Music

I stopped listening to the radio years ago. There was this particular station I used to listen to (the only rock station back then), and there I would get my daily dose of the old and new. That’s how I fell in love with songs that I have added to my endless list of favorites. My secondary sources of new songs were my then bandmates. They were buried deeper into the heavy metal/metal/punk rock genres so they knew more kickass artists than I did. They would suggest an artist to me and then I’d download a whole album and weed out those that didn’t quite strike a chord with me. I would then listen to the songs I picked and tried to incorporate them into my craft. Sometimes they would lend me cassette tapes and CDs to listen to and I’d take them in like a sponge.

The birth of another rock station renewed my hope in what I deemed to be a zombie industry. This rock station claims to be un-mainstream by playing songs the other rock station would not even think of including in their playlist. They have minimal product endorsements, which means more songs to listen to in a typical hour. I only listen to it though when I’m driving. Still, my main source of music is the MP3s in my computer and the ones I stream over the Internet.

Before, I never streamed music online because our Internet connection was so slow that you’d run out of patience just about the same time the audio had finished buffering. Now that we have upgraded to a DSL connection, I can now stream music until my ears bleed. I’m constantly looking for old and new songs I haven’t listened to before. To me, every unheard song has an equal chance of being a favorite. There are two sites I frequent to get new sounds. First is Last.fm. I call it a ’smart’ radio station. What I do is I type my favorite artist and tune in to the station that plays songs of artists similar in musical style or genre.

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Sitting on the Palm of God

June 27, I managed to catch an episode of The Oprah Winfrey Show on the Hallmark Channel. Her guest was Elizabeth Gilbert, author of the New York Times bestseller Eat, Pray, Love. She related her spiritual journey that led to the making of the book. Elizabeth, a 30-plus-year-old, was married and had a career, but her life went in a downward spiral, eventually leading to a divorce. She traveled to Italy, India and Bali in an attempt to patch up her life and find herself again.

In her trip to Bali, she met what the townspeople call the Medicine Man and learned invaluable things from him about life. She related that in one of her many meditation sessions, she experienced a spiritual moment like no other - she claimed that for a brief moment, she was sitting on the palm of God, and at that moment, she said that everything made sense to her now and even wondered how could she have not seen things the way she saw them now.

Oprah asked a question probably everyone in the studio audience and every person watching that episode wants to ask Elizabeth - does one have to be badly broken, to travel far, far away and to meet the Medicine Man in order to experience this type of thing? And the answer is absolutely not. She said that every person is different, and the experience would be unique to each individual.

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