Jinggoy Estrada and Edu Manzano are attempting to do the impossible, which is to prohibit free downloads through the internet in the hopes of putting an end to piracy. I don't know about them, but it's like trying to download the internet for Jesus H. Christ's sake. What cosmic radiation could have inflicted such massive testicular retardation, so much so that what they are intending to do in the coming days has come to boggle the mind to abyssmal depths? There are paw prints of brain deformation there, and one need only to look at the face of it for that's all there is to it—the face of it.
On the face of it—which is really all there is to it—proscribing internet users from downloading whatever they desire for free won't make piracy a thing of the past. Quite on the contrary, it will only make piracy turn into a more malignant tumor that swells like a massive phallus. It doesn't take a rocket scientist's mind to simply understand that the internet is a vast galaxy where regulating its expanse with the filters of the law can hardly make this country all the wiser and none the wretched. You can't put a legal fence around cyberspace or bend it according to a politician's will. At the very least, you can hardly dictate what people can and cannot do with it. You can only wallow in your pitiful way of giving people a better life by quashing one of their few remaining sources of joy, which is to download content from the internet for free.
This folly will only compel you to laugh and cry at the same, the thing infamous about how lunatics thrive on this side of the world, quite apart from the fanciful and imaginative ways in which they end their lives. Prohibiting free downloads is more or less mad, or equally insane. I do not entirely know whose idea it was to do so, but whoever that bigot may be, the internet is far bigger than an untamed jungle where rules are just fart in the wind. How on earth are you going to put an arm to that legal arsenal anyway? How on earth are you going to enforce that law when you don't even have the capability to censor or ban, whichever they prefer, a few or a thousand websites to begin with? How in Bathala's name are you going to pack a bite to your toothless legal remedy when you don't even understand the limitless boundaries of the internet to begin with? How in Liliput's name can you strap down a Gulliver that grows faster than the rate that your mind could even begin to imagine?
You want to put an end to piracy? You can't. It's here to stay, for the best and worst of times, probably the latter especially so in this country. You want to put an end to piracy? By all means do so, but spare shareware from your unsolicited plot. Pirates do not share—they steal and sell, they rip you off of your fat and skim you in your own oil like what Congress is best at doing although that's another story. You want to put an end to piracy? Good luck to that, if at all you believe in luck, which I do not.
But don't get me wrong. I'm not pro-piracy. I'm for shareware. In fact, you can even share what I've been writing down here to anybody you fancy so long as proper attribution is given. Else, that's plagiarism for you, which I totally frown and slither at. Sharing what you have through the internet is a very beautiful thing. It is entirely beautiful it is mystifying, considering that virtual sharing used to be beyond the scope of our imagination in the past. But piracy, now that is something else, something abominable in the eyes of actors and actresses, Edu Manzano notwithstanding. I admit, though, that I am a patron of pirated DVDs and other wares that need no skulls and crossbones, things peddled on sidewalks and unforgiving stalls in the market. What can I say? Things do not come cheap these days. The next thing you know, even sellers of pirated copies of movies are already thrown at the pits of this global financial crisis. But give me bread and I'll buy the original stuff, the movies which I perfectly understand as the summations of the sweat and tears and blood of casts of actors and directors down to the last lights man. But as the axiom goes, life is difficult to get by with in this archipelago.
There are reasons to suspect that they need to analyze—emphasis on anal—their method for madness. For one, we don't have the logistics. Sure, we have a national budget, but how much more are you going to slice away from the few chunks left for the hundreds if not thousands of government programs that need resources if only to survive? How many more mouths are you willing to starve and sacrifice before the altar of, say, flimsy political posturing? Two, you don't understand the internet, pure and basic as that. Jesus, I bet my ass you don't even know what Friendster is, or maybe you think PayPal is a sort of a bribing partner lurking in the shadows of the Palace. Three, it won't stall piracy. It will only make it worse for one reason—it will invite more people to sell stuff that they don't even have the permission to distribute. It is an open invitation to hoarding more prying capitalists and crooks. There's a whole range of litanies that can be siphoned from that. And four, which is the most basic of all, there's no chance in kingdom come that you will be able to veil the internet with pieces of paper with words written on them and sealed with the executive signature.
The time this country is finally rid of sites that offer free virtual downloads is the same time when the government is finally able to hold the internet in its fists, gripping it hard enough so that no escape is possible. The time this country eventually becomes devoid and deprived of Pirate Bay and Limewire is the time when the government does the clicking for you, whether you like it or yes. The time free download sites get wiped away from the face of this country is the time when your government is freely able at will to incarcerate you for accidentally browsing through an illegal blot in cyberspace, more so if you did voluntarily. But these things are certainly lightyears away. Typewriters still occupy a large majority of desks in government offices anyhow. Maybe.
So is Jinggoy Estrada really serious with his spineless proposition? You bet he is. He once had the gall to run as a senator, never mind to run directly into the arms of a straight jacket, what would drafting a resolution be to him or to his staff anyway? Edu Manzano, too, is itching to scratch piracy off his scalp even in the name of cutting off our umbilical source of joy, which is free download. All those serious antics put together can truly tell you how some of us are more than willing to build a bridge across the skylines for the sake of taking us to a boring cyber life.
Or maybe some of us are better left in the silverscreens than being allowed to parade themselves in the government like naked kings. Jinggoy, the son of a womanizer and a plunderer, certainly made me laugh and cry at the same time. What can I say? Like father, like son. They're both good at entertaining us, albeit in weird and wacky ways.
When the minds of a plunderer's son and a TV gameshow host connive, they redefine our concept of folly.
On the face of it—which is really all there is to it—proscribing internet users from downloading whatever they desire for free won't make piracy a thing of the past. Quite on the contrary, it will only make piracy turn into a more malignant tumor that swells like a massive phallus. It doesn't take a rocket scientist's mind to simply understand that the internet is a vast galaxy where regulating its expanse with the filters of the law can hardly make this country all the wiser and none the wretched. You can't put a legal fence around cyberspace or bend it according to a politician's will. At the very least, you can hardly dictate what people can and cannot do with it. You can only wallow in your pitiful way of giving people a better life by quashing one of their few remaining sources of joy, which is to download content from the internet for free.
This folly will only compel you to laugh and cry at the same, the thing infamous about how lunatics thrive on this side of the world, quite apart from the fanciful and imaginative ways in which they end their lives. Prohibiting free downloads is more or less mad, or equally insane. I do not entirely know whose idea it was to do so, but whoever that bigot may be, the internet is far bigger than an untamed jungle where rules are just fart in the wind. How on earth are you going to put an arm to that legal arsenal anyway? How on earth are you going to enforce that law when you don't even have the capability to censor or ban, whichever they prefer, a few or a thousand websites to begin with? How in Bathala's name are you going to pack a bite to your toothless legal remedy when you don't even understand the limitless boundaries of the internet to begin with? How in Liliput's name can you strap down a Gulliver that grows faster than the rate that your mind could even begin to imagine?
You want to put an end to piracy? You can't. It's here to stay, for the best and worst of times, probably the latter especially so in this country. You want to put an end to piracy? By all means do so, but spare shareware from your unsolicited plot. Pirates do not share—they steal and sell, they rip you off of your fat and skim you in your own oil like what Congress is best at doing although that's another story. You want to put an end to piracy? Good luck to that, if at all you believe in luck, which I do not.
But don't get me wrong. I'm not pro-piracy. I'm for shareware. In fact, you can even share what I've been writing down here to anybody you fancy so long as proper attribution is given. Else, that's plagiarism for you, which I totally frown and slither at. Sharing what you have through the internet is a very beautiful thing. It is entirely beautiful it is mystifying, considering that virtual sharing used to be beyond the scope of our imagination in the past. But piracy, now that is something else, something abominable in the eyes of actors and actresses, Edu Manzano notwithstanding. I admit, though, that I am a patron of pirated DVDs and other wares that need no skulls and crossbones, things peddled on sidewalks and unforgiving stalls in the market. What can I say? Things do not come cheap these days. The next thing you know, even sellers of pirated copies of movies are already thrown at the pits of this global financial crisis. But give me bread and I'll buy the original stuff, the movies which I perfectly understand as the summations of the sweat and tears and blood of casts of actors and directors down to the last lights man. But as the axiom goes, life is difficult to get by with in this archipelago.
There are reasons to suspect that they need to analyze—emphasis on anal—their method for madness. For one, we don't have the logistics. Sure, we have a national budget, but how much more are you going to slice away from the few chunks left for the hundreds if not thousands of government programs that need resources if only to survive? How many more mouths are you willing to starve and sacrifice before the altar of, say, flimsy political posturing? Two, you don't understand the internet, pure and basic as that. Jesus, I bet my ass you don't even know what Friendster is, or maybe you think PayPal is a sort of a bribing partner lurking in the shadows of the Palace. Three, it won't stall piracy. It will only make it worse for one reason—it will invite more people to sell stuff that they don't even have the permission to distribute. It is an open invitation to hoarding more prying capitalists and crooks. There's a whole range of litanies that can be siphoned from that. And four, which is the most basic of all, there's no chance in kingdom come that you will be able to veil the internet with pieces of paper with words written on them and sealed with the executive signature.
The time this country is finally rid of sites that offer free virtual downloads is the same time when the government is finally able to hold the internet in its fists, gripping it hard enough so that no escape is possible. The time this country eventually becomes devoid and deprived of Pirate Bay and Limewire is the time when the government does the clicking for you, whether you like it or yes. The time free download sites get wiped away from the face of this country is the time when your government is freely able at will to incarcerate you for accidentally browsing through an illegal blot in cyberspace, more so if you did voluntarily. But these things are certainly lightyears away. Typewriters still occupy a large majority of desks in government offices anyhow. Maybe.
So is Jinggoy Estrada really serious with his spineless proposition? You bet he is. He once had the gall to run as a senator, never mind to run directly into the arms of a straight jacket, what would drafting a resolution be to him or to his staff anyway? Edu Manzano, too, is itching to scratch piracy off his scalp even in the name of cutting off our umbilical source of joy, which is free download. All those serious antics put together can truly tell you how some of us are more than willing to build a bridge across the skylines for the sake of taking us to a boring cyber life.
Or maybe some of us are better left in the silverscreens than being allowed to parade themselves in the government like naked kings. Jinggoy, the son of a womanizer and a plunderer, certainly made me laugh and cry at the same time. What can I say? Like father, like son. They're both good at entertaining us, albeit in weird and wacky ways.
When the minds of a plunderer's son and a TV gameshow host connive, they redefine our concept of folly.
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