Triggering the Dirty Finger

**Have you seen this program on TV? It's called the news, and watching just thirty minutes of it gave me enough inspiration for a tankful of foul retch.

And by the way, I really don't think much of our local celebrities, and there is more to television than who's fucking who, or who's gay this time, or which local program's attempting another American Idol rip off. It all looks the same to me. I mean, that thing which comes out of your ass smells no different from anybody else's, right? So pardon the reference.


Cesar Montano's leading a lost cause.

If you've ever seen him endorsing that new service by Touch Mobile, then you'll begin to understand my point. He was marching along, flanked and surrounded by the local "masa," and they are advocating a new slogan supposedly empowering the purchasing power of the local currency. If I remember it right, the new catch line screams "Power to the Piso," and for all I care, it might as well be "Power to the People," and it wouldn't make no difference at all. There isn't much substance in what he was campaigning for, most especially with what filth they're reporting in the local news programs.

I was watching the news one time, and I saw a clip of this guy being arrested because he claimed to be a member of the National Bureau of Investigation (NBI).

His line of defense was that he was merely doing that to pacify a near-erupting gangfight between two local groups. He was thinking that posing as a law enforcer would bring people to their senses, and that claiming to be a member of an "elite" bureau would command the cooperation of these local thugs. Anyway, that's not the point. I mean, why in the world would that goddamn fool assume to be an element of the National Bureau of Investigation? I'm not particularly impressed with the kind of magic those badged posers weave, like there was any to begin with, and affiliating with them's not as helpful as it used to be. I'm sure they try, but the impression they're leaving as of the late's not really working for them. See, the NBI doesn't perform well anyway, much like any other office in the government, so he might as well assume to be the President or something and it wouldn't do him wonders.

Who really cares? He still ended up as another dipshit in the already asphyxiating kennels we have here as prison cells.

At this point, I'll be doing something which I rarely do at all. I would like to apologized to all of you kids out there who are in one way or another connected to our local law enforcement agencies. Like as friends, or more importantly, as family. See, you don't have dumb parents. They simply love the job they're doing, but the thing is, the system we have here doesn't give them a real good impression at all. Yes, it sucks, but they're sticking to it just the same. And you just have to adore them for that.

Anyway, after sometime, this news program I was watching cuts into a commercial break. And the first thing I saw was this clip about the selective killing of broadcasters in Mindanao. Of course, this wasn't really surprising at all, I mean, this was the kind of news they serve us over dinner.

Nothing's quite as fantastic as having your appetite disturbed by mugshots of news reporters in bodybags, one after another. I got kind of used to this, and in the long run, this failed to elicit no element of shock at all. Thing is, they're killing media men down south for being media men down south. So much for Power to the People.

Beginning May 26, an additional two pesos (P2.00) will be collected from each passenger riding the local jeepney or buses. Sure. Three commercial breaks later, and it's the senate increasing the value added tax (VAT) to a constant ten percent (10%). Literally speaking, VAT means that they're taxing the value of a product, but I just don't see the point in doing that here. In theory, our local products aren't really worth much at all, if you ask me, so imposing ten percent on something for it's "value" is simply an entertaining concept. See, ten percent of zero is still zero. So, a VAT of zero is really not much at all. But that's just theory speaking. Reality is that sales receipt you're holding in your left hand, or that utility bill in your right.

I can't wait for May 26 to see just how ugly thing's are going to be for the local commuter. It's bad enough that they'll be fishing out more coins from their pockets to get to where they're bound to be. But it gets worse.

Most of our local jeepneys and buses are maneouvered mostly by these sweaty, hotheaded fiends who foulmouth a tad too much. It might also be implied that they drive with a deathwish, in case you've never lived to tell what it's like to be travelling with your life flashing back right before your very eyes.

I remember being in this one bus ride from Makati.

I wasn't even out of the Makati Business District when the bus I was on just started swerving from left to right. It started with this abrupt movement to the left, more like a jolt or something, but then it was followed by a sudden turn to the right. For some reason, the driver's acting fucked up. Real bad. It even came this close to this other bus, so close that we were almost five inches apart! It was near the MRT station in Buendia when things started to really get out of control.

The bus came to a screeching halt, real abrupt, and then these two ugly thugs operating my bus just started erupting in the most fluent expletives. The conductor opened the door, and then went out in the street, obviously infuriated by another bus which happened to be tailing ours. I was three seats away from the driver, and I saw him take out this LARGE KNIFE from his drawer or something, and then he followed his conductor out into the street. My fellow passengers were already halfway to violent, and they were all looking out of the windows, screaming for their money back. Imagine that.
Anyway, our driver and his partner came back in like three minutes flat, apparently appeased and enormously apologetic to all of us. Turns out that they were being assholed by the driver from the other bus, and that they were just giving him his just desserts.

That was an eleven-peso bus ride, but I never had no idea that eleven pesos can be such a pain. I'm paying this much for service which just threatened my physical well being, and now they're upping it to thirteen pesos? I'm not being cheap or nothing, but would you be okay with paying your possible executioner two pesos more?

But that's just icing on the cake. See, riding from point A to point B anywhere in the metro exposes your lungs to the finest polluted air ever. We're talking generous quantities of carbon monoxide, and tar, and nicotine, and all that good jazz. Basically, a trip in one of our local jeepneys is the closest you can get to getting high on carbon monoxide. So, if you're the type of person who usually gets his kicks on dirty air, then you're almost always in you're element when you're commuting in the metro.

But we're not like you. I don't think it's fair to pay two pesos (P2.00) more to get nearer to lung complications. You don't even smoke, and yet you're respiratory system suffers as much as your coin purse.

Power to the Piso? Told you Cesar Montano's leading a lost cause.

The Bible's No Fun

**Was this in one of them commandments?

I am a non-practicing Christian, and I practice with religious fervor.

I don't go to the Midnight Mass on account of I don't even go to the morning mass. The last confession I had was mostly a requirement in a Religion class in high school, and I lied for the most part behind that cubicle. I have oily skin, and I ain't having none of that Wednesday ash on my forehead on account of I dread pimples more than the Horsemen of Apocalypse.

I mean, pimples are real. And that's just about all the reason you need for preventive measures. I mean, they leave a scar you can actually put a finger on.

We have this bible at home, and we've had that for half a decade already. I didn't want to ask for a new one; I already have this buttload of fiction in my reading desk. See, I've always been a Christian all my life, and I've gotten tired of talking snakes, wives turned to salt, bodies of water miraculously halved, and all that magic.I've grown too old for all that fairy tailing, and I ain't buying that story with the talking burning bush. For all I know, that bush in question might have been a whole buttload of marijuana, and the dude might have been high or something. It's the bible, for crying out loud, sliced bread wasn't even invented yet. The most they'd accomplished with bread was to multiply it to feed thousands.

And how Christian is removing the foreskin?

I gather that God and the devil speak the same tongue. So if there was anything I realized from the bible, then that has got to be it. I mean, Eve listened to both of them.

And don't you think that choosing an apple as the forbidden fruit's just too damn convenient, right? If He was actually as omnipotent as the rest of us holds Him to be, then He'd have the wisdom to choose a more difficult fruit to forbid. Like a coconut, for instance. Those old testament rednecks Adam and Eve would know nothing on how to make it work, and the serpent could only tell the bitch so much. Hell, they'd be bashing each other's skulls in with the coconut, but they'd still be living in paradise. I mean, they can do it forever. Apples are just so easy.

And since we're talking "forever," I see heaven as this pretty green place where everybody eats fruit and plays the harp. Forever and ever. I remember reading a book by George Burns in which he mentioned the comedian's hell. Imagine yourself as this comedian, and then you get ahold of this routine, or a script in which every joke is just more hilarious than the last one. But the thing is, you have no audience to tell the jokes to. I mean, so you died and went to heaven, and you'd be like a champion harper in no time at all, maybe halfway through forever. But since everybody else is harping like it's nobody else's business, who would appreciate your heavenly strumming?

Speaking of heaven, I don't even see how decapitated heads with golden locks of hair are angels. They float around on little clouds with birds wings, and that's just sick.

Making fun of my religion is not as bad as attacking it. I mean, I own it, so I might as well laugh at it. But here's a little confession: I don't believe in a God who created the world in seven days. He doesn't speak to His people in a booming voice. He doesn't cause plagues, and His "working in mysterious ways" is simply rabid Christian propaganda.

However, I believe in a higher power which holds the universe together. I can brag of a selective absorption of thought, but this is just too perfect to challenge. If there wasn't something, someONE responsible for maintaining the balance, then we'd all be heading for the hills. We could be colliding with Jupiter at this very moment, but no. We could be getting sucked into another black hole anytime this week, but no. We could be plummeting straight to the burning sun, but no. We have someone to thank for not letting these happen, and I shudder at that terrifying power.