So, where’s the Herencia Filipina website that I’ve been bragging about for more than a year?
No more websites. For now. In the meantime, I will have to content myself with my own puny FILIPINO eSCRIBBLES and ALAS FILIPINAS superblogs and entertain their half-a-dozen or so faithful readers and occasional detractors who merely want to earn a couple of brownie-points from those few faithful who are willing to polish my fingernails for free.
Due to lack of funds —or to be more precise: 0 funds—, I think this project has to be stalled in the meantime. We did solicit for help, but we almost got no response. Of course, stupid me. This advocacy of ours is not as popular as I thought it to be, no matter how noble (wow). Quixotic is the keyword. Sad.
I also did much reflecting these past few months. And I realized that I’ve been too boastful, too much of a friggin’ braggart just because I knew that Bonifacio loved scratching his balls after every meal, that Goyo del Pilar was a wuss prototype of Johnny Bravo, or that it was Aguinaldo himself who gave Mabini syphilis. My cayabañgan set in, just because I knew —or I thought I knew— a couple of historical chica minute tidbits than anyone else in Pinoy weblandia. And I’m thankful that I woke up from it. Silly me. I have to admit that I’m not really a historian nor a historical sociologist… I’m just a history buff. A blogger (a writer’s version of a ham n’ egger?). I have to accept the fact that everything that I’ll ever write in my blogs will never be taken seriously by scholarly heavyweights who, in turn, will never have time to hit the weights (but I have, bwehehe! :D). But of course. I’m just a blogger with no scholarly titles attached to my telenovela-sounding name.
And now that Andy Warhol’s prediction has come true, that in the future (which is now) everyone will be world-famous for 15 minutes, it’s mighty difficult to put my head above a sea of online voices. So for now, while I wait for the right time to shine, I work alone. Just have fun and take it easy. There’s a time for everyone, anyway.
Él que lucha por un ideal grande, ha de amar la lucha por el puro placer de luchar, no por el triunfo, no por el botín, ni siquiera por la gloria. El premio del esfuerzo es el esfuerzo —Claro M. Recto—
Yeah, he’s the great Don Claro, the nationalist hero. But I’m Señor Pepito Albert, the King of the Hill.
Don’t mind this silly post. I’m just disappointed. At nañguíñguilo ang mga ñguipin simulá pa nung sábado…