I have now reached the point in my life where the phrase “I woke up like this” has begun to be an expression of abject horror rather than a positive, self-affirming testament. Yes. It’s happened. Gravity, that most unwelcome of guests, has finally gate-crashed my life party and shows absolutely no intention of leaving. A word of advice to the twenty-somethings of today: enjoy it while it lasts. Take all the pictures you can, because in a few years, harsh lighting will not be beneficial to you or anyone in your direct vicinity. You’ll be me, hiding from fluorescent light the way a vampire avoids daylight. Avoiding flash photography at all costs. Learning how to wield Photoshop and filters like weapons of mass destruction. Save yourselves!
Sebastian “Baste” Duterte must be the real reason his father won, because he seems to be coming out on top when it comes to the list of sexiest presidentiable sons. For a very short list, the choices of attractive presidentiable children are – surprisingly – not all awful. It wasn’t a desire for change, after all. We simply went and voted for who had the best-looking offspring. Ha! Busted.
The tribe has spoken. Rodrigo Duterte is President-elect of the Philippines. To the world, this choice looks like a decision made by a lunatic – we picked a man who made light of rape, insulted the Pope and ran on a platform ripped from the violent rulebook of the Queen of Hearts: Off With Their Heads! (In Six Months or Bust).
You live, you learn.
#RP69fanfic is Pinoy ingenuity at its best. Not the spin-off everyone expected after the 2016 elections, but it’s a beautiful, dark, twisted fantasy. Not safe for work. Not safe for life. Not safe, ever.
Six years ago, yellow ruled the world. Like I said, things seem really different now. Reblogged from 2010. Original here.
Another long weekend to enjoy. It’s supposed to be a weekend with a purpose – the working class have all been (very kindly) given one day off to decide who will lead our country and occupy upper echelons of the republic for the next few years.
And, I’m not voting.
Upon hearing this, my good friend and colleague Charity B. summarily stripped me of every right to complain. “You’re not voting? Then don’t complain about anything in the government.” She’s from Manila. Everyone in that city complains.
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I don’t think change is coming. I think change is already here. For years, it felt like Panem – everything important was decided by the people in the Capitol while the Districts had no say in the matter.
Gone is the air of resignation whenever the presidential elections came around. It was never about the best candidate winning; we all accepted that the decision was in the hands of whomever the masa would vote for (remember Erap?). They were always easy to win over. Grease a few palms, make a few promises, sing a few songs. Winning was easy. It didn’t matter what the rest of us had to say about it.