THE SAGA OF 3-D

(A corrected and revised version of an essay by J. L. Pe with the above title that first appeared in The Varsitarian on November 30, 1980.)

It is unfortunate that many of us, in our eagerness to build a glorious future, almost forget the glorious shambles of our past. Some sociologists have coined several not too unjust terms for our culture, among these being "the schizophrenic society", and the "throw-away society", to name but a few. There is no lack of pessimists who believe that our pathologically forgetful culture is well on its way to collective neurosis. We are like ships without ballast in an eternally shifting ocean; we are, as some philosophers would say, in a state of endless becoming but never being.

Now, what are people doing to remedy this sad state of affairs? The more drastic grace a psychiatrist's office at the expense of a few hundred bucks. But the few who remember that laughter is free and just as effective simply need a good joke to keep their sanity intact. And what better place to search for one than in those glorious, aging shambles of our past?

In my junior year (1978) in high school (Ateneo de Manila, a Catholic all-boys high school), my classmates and I FINALLY agreed to produce and finance a "class magazine". (An incredible occurrence, since we could rarely agree on, much less actually produce together, anything.) What its purpose was no one knew for sure, but I suppose that it was meant to be a testimony to our comtemptible existence as a group whose members had barely anything in common with one another. In those days, even passable articles were hard to find, as no one among us took pains to compose even a few complete sentences. Fortunately, our moderator's instigations drove their way into our dense skulls. With a fervor unmatched in either man or beast, he exhorted us into mending our ways before the plague of idleness overcame us for the rest of our lives.

So 1978 passed with the appearance of an unimpressive, cheap, and cheap-looking booklet, the 3-D Discussion. It had the crudest newsprint and was bound together by what seemed to be rust-encrusted staples. And when one opened it, did he receive an annoyance! Typos dotted the pages like numerous ravens on a clear morning, and brutal omissions of entire pages shocked the eyes of its unsuspecting editors. Aside from having been printed in a meat shop, the whole affair was plagued with obvious grammatical errors, stylistic blunders, very bad poetry, and what simply was nauseating and obscene trash. Nevertheless, it struck us (just before we were about to clobber the business manager) that that pathetic booklet was the only thing that stood between us (as a group) and oblivion. Whatever its shortcomings, it was the one document that would stand as a record and serve as a reminder of what we were and would never be again. (Not that it mattered much, of course, but perhaps subconsciously, we were aware of its eventual therapeutic value as comic relief in our later lives.)

Three long years have passed since that time, but my copy of the 3-D Discussion has never failed to distract me from the pressures of everyday life whenever such distraction was direly needed. I have selected the choicest morsels here for you, the reader, to sample. I hope that any smiles they elicit from you will be of sympathy, not condescension-- sympathy for the occasional triumphs and the countless follies of that doomed group called Section 3-D.

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Click on the door to hear even more nostalgic music while you waste even more time in reading this page.

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[The following excerpts are unedited, and appear as they originally did in the Discussion. Notes in brackets are mine, and are of recent date (July 29, 1997). --J.P.]

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3-D Motto:

Freedom of our speech, freedom of the press,
Freedom of our thought we crave:
Never jot down an intellectual flop
And NEVER be the teacher's slave.

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LIFE IN 3-D, by Mon Maza

Desks properly scattered, papers roaming around, bubble gums sticking on someone's jeans, bags missing, and many more. These are the trademarks of 3-D. But do we want it?

What we always dream of are cozy places wherein we can easily concentrate on things which have been baffling our minds. We also dream of teachers praising us for being the most united class. Besides wishing to be known as Intramural champions and renowned girl chasers or...and...or...

We have all the best that dreams can bring, but it's not in our hands. Now, how can we get it in our hands? The answer is simple. We simply do the right things in the right place and in the right time.

Thumping our feet in class during lecture hours is not the idea, nor playing cards nor reading pornography nor chatting about our newest addition to our girlfriend collection. These are not the slightest ideas of discipline.

Let's all get together and improve ourselves, let's create the real true blue Atenean who need not say he is an Atenean so that he will be known as an Atenean. Let's work it out the coming days of our high school years-- let's do it together.

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From RECOLLECTION DAY '77-'78 by Dave Romero

...The final recollection activity was the mass, which ended with praises from Fr. Bonafe to the class of gentlemen (?) 3-D ... "the gentlest of them all...."

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From an Interview of 3-D moderator Romeo Suarez, by Jeff Gepte
Question 7) And what is your ideal woman?
Answer: I like a girl who is thoughtful, sweet, loving, cheerful, unsophisticated, and mature. She may lack all of these traits, but I will accept her for what she is (uninhibited).

[Note: The last word in the above answer caused a great deal of argument between Mr. Suarez and Mr. Gepte. Despite all efforts of Mr. Suarez to prevent its publication, he never succeeded. --J.P.]

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From the SAGA OF 3-D, by Joseph Pe (a pathetic attempt at epic poetry)

IV The Year's First Party
An assortment of chics was the mode,
the collection of sabits ** the code,
Few girls we had, the stink was bad--
Competition all over, it made me mad!
We tried and danced and laughed
Like fifty bums on a dead man's raft,
We drank and roared and ate and whored,
Though it was clear: we all were bored.

[**Definition: sabit: Tagalog slang for a gate-crasher invited to a party by an invited guest. --J.P.]

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LETTER TO THE EDITOR, by Dave Romero

"A Class Monster"

As a respected student of this class, I would like to voice out my overwhelming disgust on the present seating arrangement. I really have a problem with my vision, and my hearing is not so good.

The reason for my resentment is my neighbor seated right behind me. I'm sorry to be frank about all this, but actually, this person frightens me. I often associate his face with a monster's. It is as if my childhood demonic fantasies have come to reality.

ARTICLE I by Anonymous

In our class, we unfortunately have dogs, snakes, cowboys, niggers, tasadays, and anal burpers-- just a few of the characters in the 50-centavo 3-D honor hourse. But this doesn't make our class dull. In fact, they add color to the boring high school life, and what seemed to be lously and ugly ones to lively uglier characters. So invent a name for each and everyone of our classmates that will really hurt them. One that will strike home. After all, how else can you add color and life to the class while at the same time strike back at a classmate you despise? Whatever happened to our class unity? Where has it gone to? Do you still remember the good old days when the whole class would copy from one another, when everyone would join to create havoc in front of a teacher, and when everyone would swap pornos with each other? Do you still remember the time when we used to gang up on that poor, unfortunate chinese, Paul? (Or you know who?)

Well, I remember. Just the thought of it makes me want to cry. Now, it's every man for himself. We don't copy from each other anymore. During exams, we seat ourselves separately, never giving hand to some poor, underprivileged classmate who racks his brain trying to guess the answer, or even pushes his eyes trying to glimpse at the answer next door. Is this unity? There was a time when I used to be very excited about coming to school and exchanging and/or looking at porno; when excited classmates would gather around a desk, greedily looking at some magazines. But now, this is not happening. We have stopped all commerce. Why, have we run out of porno, or you know what? [sperm, what else? --J.P.] My studies show that, subconsciously, we have turned into faggots. You ask for proof? Well, I have made some studies not connected to the studies of Master Pe on "The Psychological effects of an Erection" nor with the research by Ferdi M.D. (mad dog) [Aristorenas] on bestiality, and found out that homosexuality has increased its ratio of one out of thirty-eight students (you know the original one) to fifty percent of the class. So to all you faggots reading this magazine, I conclude this article by saying truly and honestly: 3-D BULOK! ** [**Definition: bulok: Tagalog for rotten, which as members of 3D know well, is a fair adjective for the human condition. --J.P.]

End of saga; now for the tasteless trailers....

[Hello Mr. Anonymous? Are you still out there? It might be kind of late, but let me be the first one to resume commerce and stop this faggot trend. Just click on this link for a good one! --J.P.]

[AN APPEAL TO EX 3-D INMATES: I have long lost my cherished copy of the Discussion, but some of you comrades-in-suffering probably still have yours. I would greatly appreciate it if you send me a photocopy or scan of our class magazine, or what is even better, the original itself! We can then begin thinking seriously about expanding this meager page. May the (gravitational) force be with you, wherever you are!]

[After 19 years of blissful solitude, two 3-D ex's meet in a chat facility of that despicable online slum, AOL. They are now much older but probably not much wiser, although (thankfully) they seem to have lost the ridiculous optimism and bravado of younger years. Read their sickening, unedited conversation.]

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This page is maintained by J. L. Pe. It was created on July 29, 1997, and was last updated on August 23, 2000. To send me e-mail, click on my name. Click on the link to visit my home page.

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