Confessions of a Part Time Blogger-Commentator/Commenter.
Being a commentator is a risky business. I have lived my past in a country where brave commentators were easy targets by hitmen hired by disgruntled parties whose spoils were as holy as the indecent acts they were trying to hide. So accounts for the downed disciples of responsible journalism ranging from news reporters, radio commentators, photographers, TV hosts and the like. But the thing is life must support itself no matter what. So as the culprits in the society get their share of the daily pie of life threefold or maybe more, the commentators do their share to get a part of that pie by exposing whatever’s illegal in the trade even it should cost them their lives. Of course nobody wants routine news headlines on the daily tabloid as typical as a milkman delivering his daily ration of milk or a newspaper boy delivering newspapers to his clients. A killing must be done somewhere along the line so a shift in the cycle of events would be a proving “catch” to the day’s headlines. So a radio commentator end up dead on an alley with a bullet hole in the head and a newspaper reporter had been abducted and was found dead on a garbage dump outside the city. Such news did increase the consumption of newspapers and magazines whose devoted articles featured a thing or two about the crimes. Then life does go on as it must that it consumed such bloody headlines into the normalcy of the course of each day, some spoils in the government or a company does get exposed and the perpetrators get to prison and a week or two a commentator will be shedding his life to the cause of responsible journalism. It is an irony where the guilty party gets the slow punishment (and seldom get away with it) for the crime while those who gave the effort to uncover it often gets instant punishment for the offence they have uncovered in the hands of the culprits.
I may have been a promising commentator in my own right given a break back in my country but my calling lured me somewhere else. So thank heavens I didn’t end up dead on an alley with a bullet hole somewhere on my body because I had been silly to fight with the tip of my pen (or my fingers on the computer) against an army of hoodlums with varied armaments of death. Picking up writing in a foreign country using blogging as a platform is a commentator’s delight. It is a matter of picking up a war somewhere else where you have the edge to win or being cornered in one same venue where your forefathers gave up their lives. I was fortunate to opt for the former doing the act I’m doing now. Being a commentator to someone’s blog is no bloody business and I’m safe on my desk in front of the computer without the fear of being shot by a sniper somewhere (silly thought).
We all understand if sometimes others can’t view our articles and comment but I have to say that we miss them too 
Well done, kabayan. Ok lang yun… Marami tayong friends di ba? We know how it works here
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