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Thursday, March 15, 2007

Nationwide TV Ratings : February 25, 2007 : Sunday

Nationwide TV Ratings : February 25, 2007 : Sunday


Philippine Nationwide TV ratings
February 25, 2007
Primetime - Sunday

S Files (GMA)- 16.0%
The Buzz (ABS-CBN)- 26.5%

Mga Kwento ni Lola Basyang (GMA)- 16.3%
TV Patrol Linggo (ABS-CBN)- 29.1%

Starstruck (GMA)- 18.1%
Goin' Bulilit (ABS-CBN)- 34.6%

Mel and Joey (GMA)- 11.2%
Rated K (ABS-CBN)- 44.5%

All Star K (GMA)- 8.8%
Sharon (ABS-CBN)- 34.5%
Pinoy Big Brother (ABS-CBN) (pilot)- 36.0%

February 26, 2007
Primetime - Monday

24 Oras (GMA)- 22.4%
TV Patrol World (ABS-CBN)- 36.8%

Asian Treasures (GMA)- 28.6%
Sana Maulit Muli (ABS-CBN)- 36.5%

Super Twins (GMA)- 31.5%
Maging Sino Ka Man (GMA)- 37.2%

Bakekang (GMA)- 29.1%
Maria Flordeluna (ABS-CBN)- 33.6%

Jumong (GMA)- 19.9%
Pinoy Big Brother (ABS-CBN)- 42.3%

Starstruck (GMA)- 18.6%
Princess Hours (ABS-CBN)- 35.5%

Lagot Ka, Isusumbong Kita! (GMA)- 10.1%
Bandila (ABS-CBN)- 15.8%

GMA-22.9%
ABS-CBN- 33.9%

Nationwide TV Ratings : February 20, 2007 : Primetime - Wednesday

Nationwide TV Ratings : February 20, 2007 : Primetime - Wednesday


Philippine Nationwide TV Ratings
February 21, 2007
Primetime - Wednesday

24 Oras (GMA)- 22.5%
TV Patrol World (ABS-CBN)- 33.4%

Asian Treasures (GMA)- 34.1%
Deal or No Deal (ABS-CBN) (final week)- 34.0%

Super Twins (GMA)- 31.1%
Maria Flordeluna (ABS-CBN)- 32.2%

Bakekang (GMA)- 26.4%
Sana Maulit Muli (ABS-CBN)- 39.9%

Jumong (GMA)- 23.1%
Maging Sino Ka Man (ABS-CBN)- 36.2%

Starstruck (GMA)- 12.7%
Princess Hours (ABS-CBN)- 35.0%

Nuts Entertainment (GMA)- 4.5%
Bandila (ABS-CBN)- 14.4%

GMA- 22.05
ABS-CBN- 32.15

Is Your Lamp Lighted?... Article from Bo Sanchez' PErsonal Blog... nice one

Is Your Lamp Lighted?
Emy Serafica Preaches To Me One Last Time

When I was 14 years old, I led the first ever prayer meeting of the Light of Jesus Community. My family was there, and so were twenty other people. Looking back, it was pretty comic. Why would a bunch of grown-ups follow a kid in a crummy tee shirt, jogging pants, and sandals? Especially a kid who watched Voltes V and even memorized its theme song? But that was what happened.
A few weekly prayer meetings more, Emy Serafica walked through the door for the first time. A tall, lanky fellow with a strong chin and broad smile, he looked like a 70's actor. Not matinee idol material, but those guys with character roles. Like he could be the buddy of the main star or something like that.
We learned that Emy was a natural leader. A salesman by profession, he was also an eloquent speaker and read the Bible like crazy. Soon, Emy became one of our "Elders". I shared the pulpit with him and people enjoyed his preaching. If you're my age, and you caught Jimmy Swaggart preach on TV, that was Emy's preaching style. Fiery, dramatic, and powerful.
I remember something unique about his talks: They usually had three main points.
I personally enjoyed listening to him preach.
Though I was still his leader, Emy preached better than me. Naturally, my mother will object to that statement with the violence of a volcano erupting after 900 years of dormancy. But I really think he preached better than me at that stage because he was much older (he was 32 and I was 15) and more experienced.
When I turned 18 years old, I stopped studying and worked full-time for the community. And so did Emy. (Just as a side note, in case there are kids reading this who might get funny ideas, I eventually went back to college and finished my Philosophy degree and even took up Masters in Theology.)
The community rented an apartment as an office. To work more closely together, Emy and his wife Lydia moved next door and made it their home.
Yes, Emy and I were not only co-leaders, he was my dear friend.
I remember the many nights we swapped stories, we debated about the Bible, and we shared dreams together.
As the years went by, Light of Jesus grew in number, and I asked Emy to lead one of our 5 sub-groups.
One day, at the end of a leader's retreat, we had a commitment ceremony.
Before it began, Emy called me to a corner of the room and asked, "Bo, is this a commitment to the community or to God? What if God calls me elsewhere?" I told him that it was a commitment first of all to God, but it was also a commitment to community "as long as God tells you to stay here." He thanked me and joined the commitment ceremony.
But deep inside, I already knew he wasn't going to stay long.
True enough, a few months after, he asked me if we could chat.
He said he felt God was leading him to leave the community. He was also bringing with him twenty members of his sub-group to form a protestant church.
Leaving the community was one thing. But I was shocked that he was taking along my members—my friends! And I was doubly shocked that they were leaving the Catholic Church.
I felt numb. But I still wished him the best.
A few days after, I stood in front of our entire community of over 100 people and I had to break the agonizing news to them. I was 21 years old at that time and life didn't prepare me for announcements like this.
"One of our Elders, Emy Serafica, is leaving the community," I said, pausing amidst gasps of shock around me, "and twenty of our members are joining him. They're forming a new protestant church…"
People couldn't believe the news. And I understood what they were feeling. How could this happen to our little, cozy, tight, loving group? People began to sob right in front of me. Friendships were torn. Even some families were divided. Spasms of pain rippled through that crowd.
But I asked everyone to pray for blessings for them and to love them as our brothers and sisters in Christ. I asked them to greet them and to talk to them.
A week later, I decided to visit Emy in his new church.
His members were there—our former members. They were excited and happy, sweeping and cleaning their new rented hall that was to be their church.
I told them that even if we weren't anymore in one group or even in the Catholic Church, we'd always be friends. We ended by praying together, hugging each other.
I became busy and I lost contact with Emy for many years.
In the meantime, the Light of Jesus community went about their work for God. We grew by leaps and bounds, expanding to different ministries and territories.
Fourteen long years later, I met his wife Lydia. She came to see me to sell life insurance. After buying a plan from her, I asked her, "How's Emy doing?"
"Many years ago, our church disbanded. Emy is back as a salesman. He's no longer preaching, Bo."
Instantly, I felt as though a knife stabbed my chest. I'm a preacher and I knew what Emy was feeling. For a preacher not to preach anymore is like an old lamp left in a dark corner, unlighted, collecting dust and rust, never used. I felt sad for such a wasted gift. Emy was such a good preacher.
I told her it would be great to see Emy again.
And a few weeks later, Emy and I met finally. After so many years.
He had more white hair but his smile was as broad as ever.
We hugged each other for a long time.
And in expressions deeper than any words can ever say, we forgave each other for the pain of the past.
As we talked and laughed together, I couldn't help but think. I wondered what would have happened if he didn't leave. Would he still be my partner-in-ministry to this day, preaching God's Word? And would I still be personally enjoying and benefiting from his preaching? I brushed these thoughts aside.
But it was he who brought up a desire to serve again. "Bo, I have these things I've written—nothing doctrinal, I assure you. Do you think it can be published?"
"Let me have a look at it," I said.
But he never gave it to me.
As months went by, Lydia would attend our prayer meetings, and once or twice, Emy would join her. I would bump into him at different times. I'm not sure of this, but I felt that he was carrying a sense of regret or shame in him. Deep down, I felt he still wanted to go back and serve God through preaching again.
A few weeks ago, I heard the news.
Emy Serafica had a massive heart attack.
My friend was gone at the young age of 57.
I visited his wake and asked his wife the one burning question in my mind, "Lydia, did Emy ever preach again?"
"A few months ago, he was invited by a small prayer group. Yes, he preached again. He gave them four talks, one for each month."
I smiled. The lamp was taken out of the darkness, dusted, cleaned, polished, and lighted again.
I will miss that broad smile of Emy.
I will miss his preaching.
Too bad I wasn't there to listen to his last talks.
But then it struck me.
Emy did preach to me one last time.
And he did it through his death.
And like the Emy I used to know, he preached three major points to me…
The First Point: Life is very short.
The Second Point: Conflicts, divisions, fights—the deepest and most hurting—don't matter at death. They cease to exist. From the perspective of eternity, all conflicts and fights are petty. They're washed away by time. One step after death's door, we'll all be laughing with our enemies—laughing at how petty we were.
I'm thankful that before Emy stepped in death's door, we were able to have that laugh this side of earth.
The Third Point: I realized that I don't want to live a life of regret. Because life is very short, I will use my Lamp and light it until the last breath of my soul.
Friend, what is your lamp?
I believe God has given every human being a particular lamp.
It's the primary language of your soul. Some call it your Sacred Contract. Your core gift to the world.
For me it's preaching. And writing.
For others, it's cooking, technology, business, singing, counselling…
You may be one of those who know what their lamp is.
Then there's only one question left to ask.

Is your lamp lighted?

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

To limp or to fly? ... from YOUNGBLOOD of INQUIRER.net

YOUNG BLOOD
To limp or to fly?
By Tina Papera
Inquirer
Last updated 00:31am (Mla time) 03/13/2007

“How do you manage to take a bath?”

I don’t know how many times that question has been asked the past several days and I wish I have counted them. Then I would have known which is more important to other people, how to a take bath or how to fit into my usual tight pants, given my “situation.”

Ever since the accident, my life has taken a different turn. No, the accident was not life-threatening at all, or at least that was what those who saw it have told me. Things just suddenly felt heavier, and a little more difficult. Sometimes there are incidents, or unwanted events that make you rethink your entire existence. This was one of them.

No day could be more vivid in my memory than that day. I woke up feeling as if the whole world was at my feet. The New Year had given me signs that I was starting on the right foot. I was given the opportunity that I have been hoping for some time. I had my whole week planned out; a few adjustments here and there on my list of to-dos and I’d just be breezing through the days. I was starting that Wednesday morning just like any other rare positive day.

I was alone and on my way to work. Just a few blocks away from our house, I got off the tricycle and started walking briskly toward where I would catch a jeepney. I was halfway across, when the thing hit me.

My life stopped very briefly -- some 10 seconds or so. When I became conscious, I felt like a 50-pound brick had fallen on my left leg. I could not move it. Either my nerves had turned numb or the pain was just too much that I could not tell what I was feeling. I was already crying when it occurred to me that I had been hit by a speeding motorcycle.

My knee was bleeding. A patch of denim was ripped from one knee. Everyone around was probably stunned because it took them a few minutes to move to help a girl who was lying face down on the service road in ParaƱaque City, with one leg immobilized.

One tricycle driver called another to help pull me off the road and bring me to the nearest hospital, just a few meters away from where we were.

I was almost hysterical. The last thing I wanted was to be moved, which was sheer torture. The trip to the hospital was the longest five minutes of my life.

As I was being brought to the hospital, I heard that the rider who had hit me was helping carry me there. I wished I could lay my hands on something to throw at him. But my arms kept rubbing my leg, and my mind just wandered.

As I type this, I am trying my best not to think about how itchy it feels inside my plaster cast. My foot is sending signals to my brain that only a small amount of blood is flowing underneath it.

The doctor told me it would take only a month before my leg can breathe and I can walk, dance and run again. But for now, a month is like forever.

I reported to work one day, but my boss advised me to take a leave, get some rest and recover. I told her that being unable to work, and having more moments to ponder the pain of being temporarily crippled would kill me.

I am getting used to the jeers of colleagues who think the way I walk is funny. The more immature ones even imitate me, and walk like an amputee. And yes, almost everyone has asked me how I manage to bathe myself.

An even more impertinent question thrown at me was: How could you have sex with a cast? My simple answer to the stupid question: If there’s a will, there’s a way.

I was never asked how all this has affected me. Or maybe even changed me. Nevertheless, I would say I have been humbled by it.

Up to now, my family is still searching for the rider who hit me because he disappeared after I was transferred to San Juan De Dios Hospital. But I have resigned myself to the fact that we would not find him. I know God sees everything and that He saw what happened. If the guy would not be able to pay for the hospital bills, so be it. Every night I thank the Lord that I am still alive. I got my second chance to make a difference.

Isn’t the fact that I will get to use my leg again just grand? During the first few days when I was in pain, physically and emotionally, I complained and sulked over my misfortune.

But now, I know He allow things to happen for a reason. I don’t have my own car or driver to bring or fetch me to and from work. I have to endure the agonizing journey, feeling every bump below my foot, getting flashes of what happened, dreading the sight of motorcycles and hearing again the crashing sound. But I try to be strong. I tell myself that while I may be stable on just one foot now, God is holding me up on the other.

A few days ago, the management honored me with an award. It was the first award given for the year. It was called “Wowing Passion Award.” We are a service company and one of the virtues we value most is passion.

Before the award was handed out to me, our HR manager said it was being given to someone who had become an inspiration to others in our workplace. He said my example showed that no one has a valid reason to feel exhausted or incapable of doing things.

I think God never gives us trials that we cannot overcome. When we are crippled, it is up to us whether to limp or to fly.

Tina Papera, 27, is a store marketing manager for Shakey’s.



Copyright 2007 Inquirer. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.

TV Ratings, March 9-11, 2007

Narito ang overnight ratings ng mga programa ng GMA 7 at ABS-CBN noong BIYERNES (Marso 9):

SiS 12.9% vs. Homeboy 14.1%;

Yellow Handkerchief 17.4% vs. Game Ka Na Ba? 21.2%;

Eat Bulaga 19.6% vs. Wowowee 22.6%;

Daisy Siete 17.1% vs. Inocente De Ti 16.7%;

Muli 16.3%, Princess Charming 15.2% at Full House 14.4% vs. Kapamilya Cinema 15.5%;

Jewel in the Palace 20.8% vs. Sineserye 15%;

24 Oras 26.5% vs. TV Patrol World 22.4%;

Asian Treasures 33.8% vs. Sana Maulit Muli 24.8%;

Super Twins 33.4% vs. Maging Sino Ka Man 25.7%;

Bakekang 34.7% vs. Maria Flordeluna 21.8% at Maalaala Mo Kaya 19.9%;

Jumong 27.6% at Starstruck 19.8% vs. Pinoy Big Brother 16%;

Bubble Gang 14.4% vs. Bandila 8.3%.

SABADO (Marso 10):

Takeshi’s Castle 17.5% vs. Game Ka Na Ba? 14.3%;

Eat Bulaga 28.3% vs. Wowowee 20%;

Startalk 18.1% vs. Nagmamahal Kapamilya 12.5%, Let’s Go 10.9% at Star Magic Presents 11.8%;

Wish Ko Lang 17.6% vs. Little Big Superstar 11.6%;

Bitoy’s Funniest Video 21.6% vs. TV Patrol 13.6%;

Pinoy Pop Superstar 23.1% vs. Komiks 20.6%;

Kapuso Mo Jessica Soho 27.6% vs. John En Shirley 19.7%; Imbestigador 24.4% vs. XXX 25.1% at Pinoy Big Brother 23.4%;

Hokus Pokus 15.3% vs. Aalog-Alog 12.6%;

Sine Totoo 13.3% vs. Sports Unlimited 4.8%.

LINGGO (Marso 11):

SOP 16.1% vs. ASAP 13.8% at Your Song 12.8%;

Magic Kamison 15.3% vs. Love Spell 13%;

S-Files 13.8% vs. The Buzz 12.6%;

Mga Kuwento ni Lola Basyang 16.3% vs. TV Patrol Linggo 13.2%;

Starstruck 21.3% vs. Goin’ Bulilit 13.8% at Rated K 19.1%;

Mel and Joey 21.9% vs. Sharon 18%;

All Star K 19.7% vs. Pinoy Big Brother 20.3%;

Daddy Di Do Du 14.8% at Sunday Night’s Box-office 11.7% vs. Sunday’s Best 11.6%

My countryside...


DSCF0006, originally uploaded by arleighmac.

i miss my life back there...

Saturday, March 10, 2007

Truth hurts from YOUNGBLOOD of INQUIRER.net

YOUNGBLOOD
Truth hurts
By Frances Paola G. Doplon
Inquirer
Last updated 01:38am (Mla time) 03/10/2007

MANILA, Philippines -- I admire the thousands of people who auditioned for "American Idol 6" and got rejected for their courage, confidence and commitment to their dream. But I also wonder how some people ever got there in the first place.

Don't get me wrong. I have nothing against them. It just strikes me as strange how people who obviously lack the talent for singing acquire their overblown self-esteem. It's not that they're not talented or that they're losers, but it's clear singing is not just for them. How could have they been so deaf to their lack of singing talent?

A common scenario: Rejected applicant walks out of the audition room in disbelief. He curses the judges and complains that they have been unfair. He condemns Simon Cowell for dismissing the "true" American Idol.

Of course, there's a whole entourage of family and friends standing outside, waiting to greet him. And it annoys me when everyone rushes to console the terrible singer and says thing like, "It's their loss!" or "Those judges have bad taste," or "No way! You're the best singer in the world!"

No wonder those contestants are blind to their limitations. Their supporters have kept them in the dark all these years!

Take Minneapolis contestant 33052. After the judges gave her their thumbs down, she kept demanding to know why. The judges cited the poor quality of her singing.

"But why?" she protested. "I've been taking voice lessons for 10 years. How come no one has ever told me that before?"

"That's because I wasn't your teacher," Cowell told her.

"But why? I have a degree in Vocal Performance..."

The judges, including the guest judge Jewel, sniggered.

"Is there anything else that I can do?" she finally asked.

"Leave," said Simon.

Apparently, it was the first time contestant No. 33052 heard that her singing was not good. And that revelation had to happen on international television!

There's nothing wrong with prodding and encouraging people, but something's definitely wrong when the encouragement is an outright lie.

We all have our own talents, but we can't have them all. We can't even choose our inclinations or areas of specialization. These are gifts. Those talents we don't have, we can develop. But let's capitalize on what is given to us.

Contestant No. 33052 is the master of her fate, the captain of her soul. She's responsible for humiliating herself. But what about her supporters, friends and family, didn't they tell her that singing was just not her forte? What about her voice coach and vocal performance teachers? I'm not putting the blame entirely on them, but they are partly responsible. Just think about the lies they have been telling her all these years.

To people like these, having real and meaningful relationships means accepting the other person totally, including his capabilities, abilities and limitations. Pointing out a friend's defect or shortcoming is not part of it. If you really accept him, you just live with it. So if a friend has a food particle stuck between his teeth, you just let him walk around the room and continuously talk and smile at everyone. And when he comes back and asks why the girls were giggling, you shrug your shoulders and pretend that you see nothing wrong. Or you say, "Maybe they think you're cute."

What a friend! You let an opportunity to end his foolishness pass. Who will tell him the truth, that he has been making a fool of himself, but the people who truly care?

Usually it's not easy to point out someone's mistakes or shortcomings. Instead of viewing constructive criticism as a helpful thing, some people take it as a betrayal. But that saves them from further and deeper hurts. They may not even believe you, but at least you tried and at least they know.

"May I tell you something?" someone once asked me and proceeded to tell me something I should improve upon. Although I was initially hurt, I appreciated it when she explained that she mentioned it not because she saw me as "defective," but because she knew I could become better. I like people who tell me such things to my face instead of gossiping behind my back.

Of course, it can be risky. When I finally decided (after so much reflection and hesitation) to tell a friend about a certain area she ought to improve on, I was worried that I was putting years of friendship on the line. However, I thought that her personal growth was more important than our friendship. Our conversation was a dramatic one and we ended up crying. We did not talk to each other for a week! But eventually we got over it and our relationship became stronger because we were honest to each other.

Now we can say anything to each other and laugh about anything. When she tells me that I'm like this or like that, I trust her because I know she is doing it out of authentic concern, and I know she still loves me for what I am and who I can be.

Telling someone he stinks does sound harsh. Sorry, but as much as we want to tell people in the most pleasant way, sometimes we can't do it too well. But hey, if author Bo Sanchez didn't tell his pal about his body odor, the man wouldn't have discovered the deodorant and heard the girl, who had been avoiding him, say yes.

A clear danger here is having people think that they are measured by their qualities, abilities or possessions. I wanted to tell one guy who also got rejected in the "American Idol" audition and felt that he had been stripped of his self-esteem, "Dude, your singing does not define who you are! Your singing may suck, but you don't."

Believing in someone doesn't mean that you should tell him that he's a great dancer when he's got two left feet. By all means, be supportive. Just be careful with your words because no one wants and deserves to be lied to. We have eyes that see and hearts that care. We have the power to bring people out from the shadows and into the light. And we have an invaluable weapon, which is truth. Truth hurts, but it sets us free.

Frances Paola G. Doplon, 25, is taking up graduate studies in English Language and Literature at the Ateneo de Manila University.



Copyright 2007 Inquirer. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.

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