Yikes!!!
OMG. I didn't know that the admin would be mad at putting an RSS Feed in our school. I should have asked their permission first. Yikes... I can't fix it. FTP access is restricted in this cafe. :(
Misused Technology
Last Saturday was the initiation rites of our computer society. Unlike some of the full pledge members, however, I did not have the good fortune of being able to bring my significant other to Mactan Island, Cebu. My friend and I, who shared the same plight, found ourselves discussing some rather intrepid details of our love life. In between sips of coffee in the pleasant ambience of the sea, our topic drifted from technology and into our personal sides in which only friends are allowed to venture. I said to him, in jest, that our little tête-à-tête would have been perfect had it been that he was born as a she.
"If only she was here," I said with a sigh. "This moment could have been very romantic."
"Are you gay or something? Stop imagining I'm your girlfriend," he said while laughing.
"Amaw," I replied. "It's your turn to tell me about your love life."
"Love life? What love life," he said to me with a somewhat serious look. "Pirme ko naunahan, pare."
He was always beaten ahead by his rivals, he told me, so he would often scheme some devious plan just to get even. Although I knew that my bespectacled friend is often at odds with people who find intelligence intimidating, I never knew I would find his dark side rather disturbing. I was a bit shocked when he told me that after his unsuccessful courtships, he would use technology to exact vengeance on his rivals. He was still immature then, he confessed, and he did not yet think of the serious consequences that would result in his irresponsible actions.
"Remember on April 1," he told me nonchalantly, "when you received a message from SMART saying, 'You have transferred P1, 350.00 to +639191234560. Trace #12345678. Thank you for using SMART Pasa Load'?"
"Well," he continued, "I forged something similar to it, only much sinister."
"I assume you did your homework," I replied, "because the last time you did a prank on me, you forgot that I used Touch Mobile."
"They were my classmates. I knew all about them."
A brief silence ensued, before our conversation turned serious.
"I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway."
I was not really in the mood for a serious conversation at that time, but something told me that I should listen. I was mortified when he told me how, using technology I have grown to love, he carried out his revenge on his clueless rivals. Using knowledge of the private details of their lives, he told me how he calculated his attacks to coincide at the times they are most vulnerable. Because his classmates were not as technically inclined as him, he was able to use subtle deceptions to sow discord among the objects of his jealousy. First, he used e-mail. Since our current e-mail protocol does not require the recipient to authenticate the sender, it was very easy for him to make his e-mails appear as if it came from other people. For those of us who have been a Netizen for quite some time now, we are probably familiar with this in the form of spam and Trojan e-mails that flood our inboxes daily.
He also used SMS messaging. With Bigfoot SMS, The Bat, Chikka, and other freely available softwares in the Internet, it has become easy for ordinary users to make it appear as if your text messages came from other people--even from the network operator itself. This was the reason why I was pleasantly surprised to receive a prank message from my friend on April 1, because it is even possible to put alphanumeric characters in the sender field. I also made a prank on others this way, except that the messages inherited its author's cuteness. One of my messages was, "You have received 300 hugs and kisses from +639169367050. Your credit will expire as soon as you don't give hugs and kisses in return. Trace #12345678. Thank you for using SMART Pasa Load."
If only he used those technologies this way, perhaps he would not have earned his karmic consequences of guilt and regret. My friend's case was clearly a case of knowledge misused, of using it in tandem with social engineering to gratify one's selfish ends. If only he had fought his battles not as a guerilla but as a valiant knight, he would have probably won her woman's heart. I wanted to change him, but I knew it was foolish to do so. All I can do is to lead by example, but I am not sure if it is an example worth following.
"Don't you know that what you did was wrong," I told my friend.
"I know, Mon," he said to me while munching his biscuit. "I know."
It was already around 3:00 AM, and both of us were already feeling sleepy.
"Hey look," I pointed my finger in the Southern skies.* "There's a shooting star darting its way to the West. I told you, this moment could have been very romantic."
"Amaw na sad ay," he replied. §
*I'm confused... When I viewed the place on NASAS's World Wind,
it seems that I had pointed West. I happened to bring a compass
at that time, but the needle pointed South. My sense of direction
tells me, however, it was Northwest-- but who cares? :) [added on May 31, 2005]
Post-Writing Reflection
While reading my blog's archive, I've just realized that my right brain hemisphere is inappropriate for literary expression. Although it may be suitable when introspecting, brainstorming, or experimenting with digital art, it is just not designed to process and express things in a verbal and coherent manner.
I was a bit unhappy with the way my sentences were constructed. Some were caused by how my attention randomly jumps from one thought to another, while others were caused by my lack of exposure to slang and informal English. I made it a point, however, not to modify my entries unless I need to edit libelous statements or factual inaccuracies. That way, I can have a progress record on how well I am able to maintain a balance between my two brain hemispheres.
I will also make it a point to be exposed to less philosophical and technical material. It may seem unwise to change my reading preferences, but I really want to learn how to express myself without being too sentimental or logical. As what I have just learned recently, it is very difficult to write something without forcing simplicity, because I am afraid that I might seem to be forcing cliché and profundity.
Blogging has been around the Internet for quite some time already. Although I have signed up with many blogging services in order to absorb ideas on how to implement similar systems on my future web development projects, it is only now that I have maintained a blog. Like with Friendster, IRC, and Yahoo! Messenger, I didn't immediately jump in to the bandwagon because they were popular. Although my tastes are plebeian, I don't know why I don't like adopting new products and services unless they have that nerdish and geekish appeal. I am deeply aware that I need to change this behavior, lest I become like the gross nouveau that I so dislike.
Because I have always lived in my own world, I'm glad that I'm beginning to see that blogging is a worthwhile leisure pursuit. Writing impels me to perceive the world not only the way I want it to be, but to perceive it the way it simply is. Most importantly, however, it also impels me to correct my own thoughts. §
About my last post
I hope my previous post was OK with my baby. :(
Confession #1: Of Pride and Lust
She looked at me, and smiled ever so sweetly. Never before had I regretted invoking God's intervention that he might lead me not into temptation. Did I really love her? Yes, I lusted for her, but the question is, did I really love her?
It was summer, and Christine (not her real name) invited me to her place. She was a scholar student of a med school far away from her home, so she had to stay in an apartment near her school. We met each other in a Christmas camp three months before, and I could only smile whenever I think about our serendipitous encounter.
It was a starry night, and the cold wind gently caressed our body, conspiring for us to seek each other's warmth. There was a star, somewhere near the Orion constellation, that we named "Miguela." Why she named it as such, she alone knows why. It was already past midnight, and our eyes were already imploring us to close. We slept beside each other, happy with this moment.
Then I woke up. Like an angel in her blue pajamas, I saw her sleeping so sweetly and so innocently--so innocently that I wanted to kiss her. Overwhelmed by my emotions, that is exactly what I did. I thought everything was going fine when she suddenly woke up and slapped me. Of course, I was a bit embarrassed, but I summoned all my courage to kiss her again; this time, however, she kissed me back. We kissed each other more, our tongues locked in each other's passion.
Two years ago, it dawned upon me the possibility of marrying someone who is no longer a virgin. That thought did not use to bother me until one day, a girl who is three years my senior befriended me in an aggressive, yet tactful manner. We met each other through the Net, and with the help of technology, our friendship flourished. There came a point when she revealed to me that she is no longer a virgin. She then asked me what I thought about it. I told her, with all honesty, that when I love someone, her virginity would not be an issue at all. I would even accept her dark past just as long as we genuinely love each other.
Weeks passed by, yet that thought still lingered on. What I did not tell her, for reasons you will not wish to know, is that I was still a virgin. Deep inside, I told myself that if I marry someone who has already done it with someone else, then that would be terribly unfair on my part. If someone had asked me that same question again, I would no longer be telling the truth if I gave the same reply.
Then it happened again. Two years later, I am now with Christine in her apartment, letting our base instincts take over. Logic and Rationality's hold on us were slowly fading, and liberation would be taking place any minute now.
"Do you love me," she asked.
I knew, at that moment, what my answer would bring. I told myself that if it is her free will and that she indeed craves for it, then who am I to dissuade her from her desires? Yet something inside me was telling me to stop.
"Christine," I stammered my words as I decided whether to heed that voice inside me. "I... I'm sorry this has happened."
She looked at me, and smiled ever so sweetly. Never before had I regretted invoking God's intervention that he might lead me not into temptation. Did I really love her? Yes, I lusted for her, but the question is, did I really love her?
I'm sorry, Christine.
* * *
Although I initially regretted my decision, the one who may have been truly liberated from that experience was I. I realized that love is not a fleeting emotion, nor an intense longing for physical intimacy. It is not an overwhelming desire to kiss that special someone, nor an irresistible urge to caress her, and feel our hearts beat as one. These may be some of the manifestation of love, but the real test of love is to love her still, even when these emotions are already gone. Because we did not yet have such opportunity, I am glad it was not too late for us to have realized that.
I am not a saint, and I admit that. I try hard not to fall from grace, but circumstances lead me otherwise. Although I am open to its fulfillment outside the confines of conservatism, I will never use it to gratify my ego.
It has not always been easy to wait. That Christine and I have gracefully parted as friends a year later underscores the reality that relationships are not always lasting. I could only imagine what would have happened if she gave me that precious thing. Would she feel used afterwards? Would I later be forced to feign feelings that are not there?
I am torn between my rather conservative upbringing and by my need to be honest with myself. I thought the world was easy for me to classify as either right or wrong, but when the time came for me to be led into the test, I could not deny the fact that its beauty moved me to consummate it. Suddenly, it became clear to me that the world is in shades of gray. §
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Posted by: simoncpu
Modified on March 10, 2005 at 10:54 AM