Breeding

"Survival of the fittest man and we've got the fucking gun !!!"

-- We Got the Gun by Clint Mansell (from the soundtrack of Pi the Movie)


I've always thought I was bred well by my parents. Although our family's bourgeois-fare (the better form I surmise), I couldn't say that we weren't blessed in many ways. I had studied (and continue to study) in excellent schools and lived in comfort for most of my life. I had nice gifts from my relatives that more than made up for not shopping on my own. And I've already mentioned previously the kind of convenience that causes entrapment into an existential vacuum (as my friend Jolens would put it.)

But, is breeding really important? Or is it important only when you hang out, or more appropriately, mingle, with certain people of a perceived higher cultural level? Isn't this descrimination all brought about by social practices that turn into prescriptive rules, norms and mores that adapt as time goes by and ideals that change with every new popular philosophical concept that comes out in the tragically impressionable pop culture market? Who defines these rules anyway? The rich? The pedantic? The so-called civilized members of society? Madonna? I am not one to fight with these enculturated doctrines because I admittedly (and humbly I hope) am part of this so-called stratum of civility.

Moving on, I was walking through a part of the metropolis that had a faux forest-botanical garden park near the river. The area beside the street was the dwelling of the homeless. The erected foundations of the railway served as the roof over their heads, there beside the oxygen-rich albeit unleaded smoke and PM10 polluted confines of the forest park railings. They were cooking their meals and disposing off excrement, sleeping the day through or counting Jollibee styros, looking well-adjusted in what's come to be their home. I was appalled when I saw them cuddling their babies and letting little children run loose barefoot on the soggy mud puddles. I was appalled because with such an open space, I could not believe they manage to copulate and produce offspring without probably the slightest thought of the consequences of their actions. Interesting tidbit I learned from a friend, people can't go down on each other in a car parked in a public place. They can be arrested for indecency. Suprisingly, HERE in the park are people living WITHIN the public place being totally irresponsible with their gametes.

If you've read previous entries, you'd know how I detest people who breed like rabbits. Is this because their living conditions are blatantly subhuman that somehow the police have come to treat them indifferently, the act of apathy reducing these people into their essentially bestial nature? More importantly, are these people who live in the jungle still able to distinguish what is emotional from something merely ... estral? Instead of an apple being the fruit from the tree of knowledge, have they, like hares having some invisible transparent dangling carrot of their own, found the essence of existence like Adam and Eve within the secluded, law-protected, modern-day Garden of Eden?

Anyway, I promised myself not to be so angsty anymore. Herein lies the new dilemma I've been facing for the past few weeks: Now that I've come to be more optimistic and avoidant of negative thoughts, I feel I have been pretty dry with this blog. I miss my usual sarcastic self, the ability I have to translate the mundane into something more umbilical ... the entertaining doses of self-deprecation I used to chide myself with.

No, I can't do those anymore. I'm trying to be more grown-up, at the same time, trying not to be too uptight about it. I'll still be practising good behavior. After all, I have breeding while others keep breeding ... like Ramon Revilla or the Sultan of Brunei.