What do you get when you cross a Northerner with a Filipina?

Trouble, apparently, if the resulting furor over the Harry and Paul sketch is to be believed.

Again our people are up in arms over a slight.  It’s not the first time that we’ve gone crazy over some misrepresentation or unflattering portrayal.  Biscuits, dictionary definitions and throwaway punch lines from heavily Botoxed has-beens — any of these can send us into a national tizzy.

It’s not that we shouldn’t be indignant when faced with outright insults; we have all the right in the world to demand a motherfucking apology when some other country thinks they can just kick us down and laugh.  The thing, though, is that almost anything relatively not positive can get our collective panties in a tight bunch.  Anything.

I’ve seen the sketch.  It’s not funny (or maybe I don’t know enough about Brits to understand the joke), but I say in all honesty that I do not feel insulted.  That’s just my personal opinion.

A gyrating Pinay — tell me I haven’t seen that in some Pinoy comedy before.  An ugly Filipina girl doing her best to get violated by some hot guy?  Oh, is that not so Zorayda or Pokwang?

We’re only angry because it’s some other nationality on the other side of the sketch.

I’m all for women’s rights, and yes, any form of sexual abuse or harassment is not funny.  It’s just that we get this shit from our own television screens every single day and no one sounds a beep.

And we’re being a tad hypocritical, don’t you think?

We’re just as nasty when it comes to portraying foreigners.  I’m pretty sure a rather unflattering and tacky portrayal of the numerous Koreans crawling all over our 7000+ islands is in the offing.  I dare you to deny that our films and television shows have ever presented insulting and degrading portrayals of our nationalities.

If China or Japan sued us over every single insulting portrayal of their kind on Philippine celluloid, we’d drown in demand letters.

And we’re always so … dramatic.  I’ve always said that everything about this country is showbiz.  You want a negotiator?  Get Robin Padilla.  The Abu Sayyaf will talk to you if you get the one Muslim action star in the country to sit across them.  Everything is about melodrama — all that emotional hand-wringing and forehead-scrunching is pretty much second nature to the people of this country.

One congressman or woman decides that this particular issue is going to get his mug on the front pages and there you go.  I thought we had every right to kick NBC’s ass after that Desperate Housewives insult; our medical community in the United States had every right to be angry.  Unfortunately, it turned into a gruesome “they always bully us” refrain that made no sense and muddled the issue completely.

Dignified countries send their ambassadors to sort out the mess.  Bulging veins and tear-stained faces have no place in international negotiations.  We want those motherfuckers to say sorry?  We find a way to bring them to their knees.

I’m no expert, but I’m sure lame protests and burning stuff won’t cut it.

The Harry and Paul sketch is tasteless and not funny.  Let’s just say I’ve seen better and funnier from Fry and Laurie, as well as the eternally beloved Mr. Bean.  That said, I don’t see it as a racial issue.  It’s an unfortunate decision on the show’s part to choose a Filipina domestic helper.

They should’ve chosen someone from a less pikon country.

I recently woke up to some nameless congresswoman screaming and flailing her arms.  Certainly not the best sight to wake up to, especially when you have nothing but contempt and disgust for the people who populate the country’s legislative department.

But it’s not often that you find our congressmen and women all worked up over their legislative duties.  Most of the time, Batasan looks no different from kindergarten nap time.  Sucks doesn’t it?  It sucks even harder when you realize that they’ve got our country’s future by the balls.

Anyway.

Yes, that nameless congresswoman did seem overly excited for a … well … congresswoman.  She was screaming so loudly I thought her jugular would pop out and make a run for the hills.  If I were king of the congressmen I would’ve had her bodily carried out by security.  And bopped on the head every few seconds for good measure.

Can’t let these threats to national security have it too easy now, right?

Right?

catholic contraceptive plan: stop fucking

But that’s not the point.  I’ve been rambling for far too long I almost forgot what I was supposed to rant about.  Ah yes, the Reproductive Bill.  It’s precisely the bill that got the congresswoman all fired up and mowing through everything like some raging bull.  I like to think she’s a bull, given her bulk.

I still can’t figure out why something as obvious and common sense as approving the Reproductive Bill has to be such a drama moment for our legislators.  Again, darlings, let’s go over the basics of economics.  Resources are finite.  The population is growing by leaps and bounds.  Soon we will have too much people, fighting over a limited amount of resources.

Tell me that isn’t a sign of the apocalyptic future, Sarah Connor.

But then the Church is adamant that NO, we can’t have the Reproductive Bill approved.  The hell it shouldn’t.  When Jesus said go forth and multiply, He really should’ve qualified his statement.  Now we’re growing exponentially and there’s not enough resources to go around.  What now, Jesus?

I haven’t seen any member of the Catholic Church produce gazillions of bread and fish, so I guess that miracle’s out of the question.

The use of contraceptives isn’t abortion, unless you think preventing a sperm cell from impregnating an egg cell is tantamount to baby murder.  Do sperm cells look like babies to you?  Except for resembling a tadpole (which is a baby frog, to those who forgot their biology), I don’t think so.  And I don’t think the Church cares about the life and death of tadpoles, either.  Heartless sons of bitches.

So what now?  Almost all of our congress people are completely chicken when it comes to the Church.  Excommunication isn’t the big deal these days, it’s not getting enough votes.

But let’s see now.  With nothing but abstinence to fall back on (and we all know how successful that can be), our beloved people have gone on to produce baby after baby after baby.  It wouldn’t be such a big deal if they could independently feed their thirteen children.  The thing is they can’t.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is where your taxes go.

You think the Catholic Church springs for these kids’ matriculation?  Nuh-uh.  Only dolts like us get to act like good Christians and pay for these children with our taxes.

It really won’t take a genius to figure out that we might as well flush the Reproductive Bill down the drain now.  It will never come to fruition, as long as devout zombies Christians willingly go along with the Church’s hare-brained schemes.

We might as well give up now and accept the reality that this country will soon be run by babies.  Yes, babies.  Sounds like a good formula for an Eddie Murphy movie, except it’s our GDP and pretty much everything we have at stake.

If you’ve been thinking of setting up a separate Philippines in Mars, you know, now might be a great time.

Yes, I am.

I love Blair, particularly, because of her pretty clothes and her headbands. I love how she’s bitchy and sort of clueless at the same time.

I love Serena, too, because her fashion style I can sort of relate to. I have those grungy tunic shirts and skinny jeans and boots. I love her.

I’ll go worship them now.

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Last week, I posted something about wanting to work abroad. I’m not looking for a job Nino, just in case you decide to come reading around again. I just feel like there’s nothing left here for me. I’m dejected, depressed and just sickened by all the corruption in this country. I need change.

That said, I won’t be leaving any time soon. I still have a year and a half to go to complete my masters, and I actually have a decent job here. I like this country. I just need a little time to recuperate.

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Anyone willing to buy me a Wii? I’ll love you forever, I swear.

Tonight I’m not playing the good guy anymore.

Always, I try not to be that whiner who wails constantly about the state of this country. There’s no point ranting and raving constantly without doing your share to make things better. I know it’s difficult to make a difference, but always I’ve sought not to be the stupid ass shouting invectives at heaven, cursing this godforsaken nation.

But now I really just want to say this out loud, with no care, concern or hesitation.

I want out.

I want nothing more to do with a country that awards criminals and crucifies the honest.

Where children have to get an eye poked out before someone gives them a scholarship.

I want nothing more to do with a country that shrugs off murders, human rights violations and corruption.

I’m just sick of all this crap.

But of course, like some stupid kid I can never stay mad at my country for long. Beneath the anger, the depression, the disgust … there’s always some sort of love.

But not today. I need time to deal with this shit.

I sort of wanted to go to the rally in Makati this afternoon.

I decided against it, though, after realizing what it was really all about. I know people feel passionately about this, and discussing this issue probably requires treading lightly, but I can’t reiterate this enough.

Booting her out is not the key.

Yes, I know, her lackeys are working overtime to discredit the witnesses in the ZTE scandal. I know that as long as she sits there, the judicial process will forever be within the shadow of doubt. Yes, we all know ZTE is a real can of worms. We all hate this shit that’s stinking up the entire country. My point, though, is that getting her out of office isn’t the be all and end all of this crap we’re currently in.

We’ve tried this twice, people, and each time we pat each other on the back, proud that we got another lousy president out of office. I think what most people forget, however, is that People Power isn’t quite as spontaneous as they want to believe. It’s not instantaneous. When the People of the Philippines finally decided enough was enough and got the Marcoses to flee to Hawaii, it wasn’t just that moment that led to success. It was the culmination of years of fighting the dictatorship, back when no one wanted to speak up in fear of becoming a desaparecido.

You can’t just add water and expect a People Power revolution to occur. Somehow, People Power II wasn’t quite as genuine as the first one. People did genuinely care about the issues and how the president was embroiled in corruption scandals, but the point is, everyone just sat back and gloated after Erap got the boot. Now he’s free again and marching with the activists, so what does that actually say about us?

It’s not that we shouldn’t let our voices be heard. That’s not what I’m saying. I’m glad that people care enough to march in the streets. Still, watching them chant slogans calling for the president’s resignation seems a little like deja vu. Same slogan, different president. I’ve seen this all before, and somehow, I know where it’s headed.

It’s an oversimplification, really. We can’t just keep kicking everyone out whenever they get muddied. We won’t have any politicians left if we do. For once, I think we should let justice run its course. It’s naive, I know, but I think we should give our justice system a chance this time. It’s stuffy and it can be easily manipulated to let the guilty off the hook, but the law that protects scumbags protects us, too. We can’t just ignore it every time we feel like doing so. If she’s guilty, then make sure she gets what she deserves — make sure she doesn’t get off as lightly as Erap did.

But it’s not one person, it’s not one government. It’s us. I think maybe we should change ourselves, too, if we want to see some improvements.

I have to admit, though. I have no plans, no ideas. I don’t know what’s best for the country. I’ve got no alternatives. I just think, maybe, this time we really ought to think deep and hard before we start chanting the same old slogans all over again.

A few days ago, I shared an entry I posted here with the Kaisa Para Sa Kaunlaran mailing list. The post was entitled Dahil Puno Na Ang Salop, a rather corny tribute to the King of Philippine Action Movies.

Anyway, I was shocked to find that the piece had traveled halfway around the world. Internet magic.

Now at first it was sort of bewildering, then kind of cool, then sort of scary.

I know I’m not supposed to feel scared when people mention that they’ve received and read my entry via e-mail, but well, I’m just not used to that. Suddenly, people were telling me how much they liked what I wrote.

It’s flattering, but lately I get this feeling from the comments that people think I’m some sort of civic minded being. I’m not. I’m just a little concerned that there are misconceptions about me. I’m not an activist, I’ve never joined a rally, and my Facebook profile says I’m politically apathetic, which is true.

The truth is, I just got so fed up with what was happening, hence the post. I hope people don’t start thinking I’m this gung-ho person who lives and breathes politics. I rarely talk about politics, really.

There have been calls to get me a citizenship, but I’m afraid that isn’t as easy as dialing for pizza. Overall, this is great. I’m glad that what I wrote hit a nerve and people liked it. Maybe I’m just a little overwhelmed.

Truth is, I’m just an ordinary employee, working everyday to get by. I don’t have answers, I don’t have any plans. No, I don’t want People Power 3. I want someone to be accountable for the ZTE-NBN scandal, I want someone to go to jail for this crime if proven guilty by the judicial system. Yes, I’m naive. It’s a little hard to outgrow.

Magta-Tagalog muna ako ngayon, dahil usapang Pinoy ‘to. Magbi-Bisaya din sana ako, kaso ambot eh, kaya Tagalog na lang.

Kagabi, habang pinapanood ko sa TV kung paano gulpihin ng mga kawani ng gobyerno si Jun Lozada, parang nagka-amnesia ako. Parang sa isang iglap, hindi ko na maalala kung bakit sa loob ng mahigit dalawampung taon, ipinagpipilitan kong Pilipino ako, kahit alam kong ayaw sa ‘kin ng bansang ‘to.

Pula ang passport ko, kahit dito ako sa Pilipinas ipinanganak, lumaki, nag-aral at natuto ng katarantaduhan. Wala akong pakialam sa sinasabi ng Bureau of Immigrations. Pilipinas ang bayan ko. Pilipino ako.

Pero kagabi, parang hindi ko na maalala kung bakit pinagsisiksikan ko ang sarili ko sa bansang ‘to. Para ano? Para magpaloko? Para magpagamit? Para gawing tanga?

Buti sana kung sampid lang talaga ako dito. Yun bang nakikikain, nakikinood ng tv, nakikitawag sa telepono. Pero hindi eh. Buwan-buwan pagdating sa ‘kin ng payslip ko, may kaltas na. Tapos saan napupunta? “This is where your taxes go,” sabi ng mga nakapaskil na billboard na naglipana sa Pilipinas. Kasama ang mukha ng taong walang kahit katiting na hiya sa akin — sa akin na nagpakahirap na makipagsiksikan sa MRT at nagtrabaho ng mahigit walong oras bawat araw para lang maipangalandakan niya ang kawalanghiyaan niya.

Buti sana kung hindi ko pera ang pinagtatalunan ngayon sa senado. Buti sana kung pinupulot ko lang sa kalye yung kinakaltas nilang buwis. Buti sana kung may mapagkukunan ako ng 130 million dollars eh, pero wala. Wala.

Ang meron lang ako, yung katiting na perang natitira sa ‘kin bawat sweldo, yung baryang tinira ng gobyerno dahil kahit papaano, meron naman silang awa. Dahil siguro, alam nilang kailangan ko rin ng pambili ng makakain, at para na rin may ipambayad ako sa e-Vat.

Sa totoo lang, ilang beses na nating paulit-ulit na nakita ‘tong pangyayaring ‘to. Lagi pang televised, dahil lahat ng bagay sa Pilipinas, dapat showbiz. Hindi naman ito ang unang beses na pinagtangkaan tayong nakawan. Malamang, hindi rin ito ang huli. At, mas malamang sa hindi, maraming beses na tayong nanakawan ng wala tayong kaalam-alam.

Pero anak ng tutchang naman, isang beses ko pang marinig iyang “move on” na iyan, susuka na talaga ako ng dugo. Sa bawat alegasyon na lumalabas, wala nang sinabi ang gobyerno kundi ito: “Pakana lang iyan ng mga kalaban ng gobyerno, wag tayong magpadala. We need unity. We must move on.”

Pero sino ba talaga ‘tong kalaban ng gobyerno na punong-abala sa mga planong destabilisasyon? Bakit parang napakamakapangyarihan niya at alam niya ang lahat ng nangyayari sa loob at labas ng Malakanyang? Sino ba siya? Si Lolit Solis?

Simple ang pagkaintindi ko sa linyang “move on” ng gobyerno eh. Para matahimik ang sambayanan, huwag kang mag-isip, huwag kang magtanong, huwag kang manggulo. Sa madaling salita, manahimik ka, para walang gulo. Parang 1984.

Tama, wala nga namang gulo. Walang gulo para sa mga taong nagpapakasasa sa bawat sentimong pinaghirapan ng bawat Pilipino (At hindi Pilipinong tulad ko). Maganda nga naman iyon para sa kanila. Kaso lang, sabi ni Confucius, injury requits justice. Katarungan ang kailangan, hindi iyang pesteng “move on”.

At sino ba talaga sa tingin nila ang niloloko nila?

Hindi ako dalubhasa sa ekonomiya, wala rin akong kaklase na naging pangulo ng Amerika. Hamak na graduate lang ako ng USTe, dyan sa may Espanya (yung bahaing kalsada, hindi yung bansa). Pero ipupusta ko ang buhay ni Boy Abunda sa katotohanang ito: ako, sampu ng milyun-milyong Pilipino, nakatapos man o hindi — nakikita namin ang katotohanan sa likod ng mala-pelikulang drama sa senado. Kitang-kita namin ang bawat kawaning may pinagtatakpan, pati na ang bawat kawaning kailangang pagtakpan.

Maliwanag pa sa noo ni Lozada ang katotohanan.

Hindi ako Pilipino, sabi ng Bureau of Immigrations. Sumasang-ayon ang birth certificate ko, pasaporte at iCard. Pasensya na. Wala kasi akong pambili ng pagka-Pilipino, di tulad ng mga banyagang kayang-kayang bilhin ito. Hindi ako smuggler, drug lord o artista. Hindi ko afford ang berdeng pasaporte. Pero kahit ayaw sa ‘kin ng Pilipinas, nandito pa rin ako.

Ilang beses ko nang sinabi sa mga kaibigan at kaanak ko ito. Kung hindi rin lang kakailanganin, wala akong planong iwan ang Pilipinas, kahit mamatay akong banyaga sa bayang kinalakhan ko. Hindi ko kayang iwan ang Maynila, ang maduming fishball, ang Parokya ni Edgar, pati si Robin Padilla.

Pero kagabi, sa unang pagkakataon, parang napagod na ako. Sa kauna-unahang pagkakataon, parang nasuya na talaga ako. Sa kauna-unahang pagkakataon, parang naubos na ang lahat ng pag-asa sa puso ko. Naitanong ko:

Hanggang dito na lang ba talaga tayo?