There was no money to buy novels when I was growing up. I relied on my school’s library for the Hardy Boys’ series; my classmates for the Sweet Dreams series; my classmates’ parents for the erotica staples; and the neighbor to our right for romance novels.
In highschool, I only knew of three categories of men: cowboys, gypsies, and pirates.
Cowboys were tearfully boring. They lacked refinement and cerebral enthusiasm, they held no interest for me. Gypsies were esoterically mysterious. With music and fortune-telling as their enduring legacy, I associated them with the circus and the carnival. Pirates were like rainbows in a cloudless sky.
Before Johnny Depp breathed life to Jack Sparrow in cinema, I already decided to surrender my chastity to a pirate.
But my pirate had no face. Hence, when news of Somali pirates hit the headlines recently, I hungered to catch a glimpse. How remotely did they resemble the marauders of my highschool daydreams?
I shouldn’t romanticize them though. Their acts are fuelled by the crude demands of socio-economics. Word on the street: Somalia is a failed state.
What’s left of those who ferociously desire to survive? There’s almost nothing to loot on the plains. So they revolt against the shipping boundaries and pillage what is out there in the ocean.
Pirates terrorize and mesmerize just as the ocean does. Astronauts may have conquered outerspace but the sea and those who try to have dominion over it holds a mystery. At least, for me.
Gary Granada who’s known as a protest-singer, appreciating its dialectic, penned a love song using the metaphoric echoes of the ocean:
“Dagat na pagitan ng ating pag-ibig
Sinlawak, singlayo, singlalim
Ngunit sa isang panig, dagat ang nagsasanib
Ng dalampasigan mo sa akin”
The sea yields a great many narratives. Separating continents as it connects, the sea offers life in its bounty as much as it deprives without remorse. We send off our beloved to far-away lands and anticipate his homecoming from the same shore.
This probably explains my fascination of pirates. The ocean is their domain, their playground and I want to play with them. Or I want them to play with me? Ahoy!!!
All work and no play, lalalala.
In highschool, I only knew of three categories of men: cowboys, gypsies, and pirates.
Cowboys were tearfully boring. They lacked refinement and cerebral enthusiasm, they held no interest for me. Gypsies were esoterically mysterious. With music and fortune-telling as their enduring legacy, I associated them with the circus and the carnival. Pirates were like rainbows in a cloudless sky.
Before Johnny Depp breathed life to Jack Sparrow in cinema, I already decided to surrender my chastity to a pirate.
But my pirate had no face. Hence, when news of Somali pirates hit the headlines recently, I hungered to catch a glimpse. How remotely did they resemble the marauders of my highschool daydreams?
I shouldn’t romanticize them though. Their acts are fuelled by the crude demands of socio-economics. Word on the street: Somalia is a failed state.
What’s left of those who ferociously desire to survive? There’s almost nothing to loot on the plains. So they revolt against the shipping boundaries and pillage what is out there in the ocean.
Pirates terrorize and mesmerize just as the ocean does. Astronauts may have conquered outerspace but the sea and those who try to have dominion over it holds a mystery. At least, for me.
Gary Granada who’s known as a protest-singer, appreciating its dialectic, penned a love song using the metaphoric echoes of the ocean:
“Dagat na pagitan ng ating pag-ibig
Sinlawak, singlayo, singlalim
Ngunit sa isang panig, dagat ang nagsasanib
Ng dalampasigan mo sa akin”
The sea yields a great many narratives. Separating continents as it connects, the sea offers life in its bounty as much as it deprives without remorse. We send off our beloved to far-away lands and anticipate his homecoming from the same shore.
This probably explains my fascination of pirates. The ocean is their domain, their playground and I want to play with them. Or I want them to play with me? Ahoy!!!
All work and no play, lalalala.
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