A government of pimps

I never thought I would ever say this about my beloved country but "TANGINA, WALA NA TALAGANG PAGASA ANG PILIPINAS!" As the transfer of Smith back to U.S. custody and the DFA's (Department of Fawning Asswipes) intervention (AGAIN!) in the case against the thieving Chinese fishermen show, we cannot rely on our government to defend its own. We are literally being raped and pillaged by these foreign fucks and douchebags like GMA and Romulo are more interested in not offending those fuckers' sensibilities rather than protecting its citizens and precious resources. Like it’s not enough that hordes of our countrymen are already in foreign servitude ("bagong bayani" my ass, they're the government's "gatasang baka") because they couldn't get a decent life here, not even if they worked their ass to the bone. God, this government will pimp anything! Honestly, I just want to go all El Fili on the whole country. Aaarrgh, I hate this annoyance! Di ako makasulat ng maayos!

Thank you. Yes, YOU!

In spite of myself, the holidays have forced me to reflect on the people who I’ve loved and been my unfailing family all these years—my friends. I realize that my aversion for the niceties of maintaining relationships (text- and call-backs), manic-depressive behavior and selfish need for solitude can drive even the most loyal friend away. So to all my friends (old and new) who have kept faith and continued to seek out my company and help me through rough times, thank you. All your efforts, kind words and yes, even forwarded jokes, have not been lost on my cold, autistic heart. Your friendship keeps me sane and grateful.

Remember: I may be a lazy friend but I’m the lazy friend that loves you. And because I’m too lazy to be anything else, I’m still going to be your friend long after you thought it possible. Here’s to a lifetime of happy new years my friends!!!

Wine, women and song

Last night I went to Conspiracy bar in Quezon City to watch my friend’s pantasya du jour, Lyn Sherman, and was wonderfully surprised by another singer, Ms. Susan Fernandez. My friends and I were drinking in the garden when I heard what I thought was a softly-playing Esther Satterfield CD in the background. Turns out it was Ms. Fernandez and let me say this: you can’t sing “Love Is Stronger Far Than We” unless you have a pure, exceptionally beautiful voice. Anything less and the song would lose its pathos and become just another maudlin love song. Susan Fernandez had it. My friend JL helpfully clued in my ignorant ass (“Sino siya? Bakit di ko siya kilala?”) by explaining that Susan is, in fact, a well-known folk singer who used to be married to political scientist and writer (and “asshole husband”) Alex Magno. He further added: “Nung bata ako crush na crush ko iyan si San-su. Grabe ang ganda niyan nung araw.” (Aside: I was mildly amused by his comment. As the son of newspaperman Jose Burgos he probably did see a lot of these activists and folk artists when he was still a young boy. In fact, “San-su” is probably his father’s name for Susan which lends a touching gravitas to his innocent remark.)

While much of her repertoire leaned towards more popular songs, there was something about her quiet singing and the way she would occasionally preface her numbers with little back stories that gave her performance a certain depth. I suppose it’s the calm certainty of a woman in her middle years. In contrast, Lyn Sherman’s performance relied more on clever arrangements and stylized vocals that betrayed her relative youth and still precarious place in the world. But there’s no doubt that she’s good and can hold her own against even Fernandez though I had a sense that Susan’s performance threw her a bit and left her a little too awestruck. (Later, Mon and I would have a discussion: While I agree that pretty young things are great for sex, it’s really women closer to your age who are more compelling.)

The evening ended as all bangenge evenings should: with a heated argument about jazz, a clumsy reconciliation and unabashed, if drunken, declarations of “I love you” before we all staggered back to whence we came.

Postscript: I love you too, Egay. Your musician’s heart is true. The same holds for your writer’s heart, Charleson.

Go away, Santa!

Dear Santa,

I wish the holiday season was over. It's like a bad amusement park ride and I'm waiting for it to end with eyes closed, teeth set and fists clenched. Meanwhile, I'm easing my holiday discomfort via near-nightly inebriation. So please Santa, go away before my liver gives out. And take all my ho-hoing family and friends with you.

Love,
Joyce

P.S. I hope you enjoyed the milk and cookies I left out for you last night.