Songs in the Key of “Pag May Time”
* – Inspired by “Songs in the Key of Subpoena” by Jessica Zafra
Lyrics lyrics lang pag may time…
* – Inspired by “Songs in the Key of Subpoena” by Jessica Zafra
Lyrics lyrics lang pag may time…
I don’t believe in the idea that only taxpayers should vote.
Without going into a rant about how “elitist” and “anti-poor” this idea is – and let’s face it, there’s nothing to this other than the denial of rights to those who can’t afford it – it sounds like a good idea. Middle-class sensibilities were once again trumped (perhaps even insulted) in this election, which favored the likes of Nancy Binay and Grace Poe at the expense of people like Richard Gordon and Risa Hontiveros. Rightly or wrongly, much of the blame is passed on to the “masses;” those who can be swayed by popular surnames or P500 bills passed around the precinct just before the polls begin. Never mind that these are the same masses that kicked out dynasties and entrenched political figures in other provinces, but that’s another story altogether.
In her latest “Thought Leaders” piece for Rappler.com, Maria Ressa writes:
Much like the Madrid bombings in 2004 that killed 191 people and the London bombings in 2005 that killed 52, the Boston bombings were carried out by men who integrated into their societies and benefited from the liberalism and inclusiveness of the West. Yet, despite their seemingly Western ways, the attackers in London and Madrid harbored deep hatred sparked by al-Qaeda’s virulent ideology – perhaps much like Tamerlan, who said, “I don’t have a single American friend. I don’t understand them.”
I’m not one to play an “expert” or anything – I just have views – but Ms. Ressa’s view is a dangerous one to make. It’s a connection present in such theories as Huntington’s “clash of civilizations,” or Krauthammer’s “bloody borders of Islam.” It’s a connection that was used to validate everything from post-9/11 racial profiling to the War on Terror, to cable news anchors trying to pin the Boston bombings to anyone with an Muslim-sounding name and Arab facial features.
It’s one that places unnecessary fears and burdens to anyone in the United States who does not have the “American-sounding name” or the “American facial features.” Or anyone in the world, for that matter. “The face of evil,” so to speak.
It’s one that creates black flags out of careless connections.
When I fell in love with you
Suddenly, my world was changing
I thought you were my heaven
Then again, you were a migraine
You told me once before
Things will never change between us
And I put my faith in you
But you left my side one day
You don’t know, but because of you
That I have stopped eating
I stay up wide awake at night
‘Coz of that sick joke you’re playing
And one day, when I love again
Hope that it’s with someone not like you
Someone like you who has a heart of stone
Wherever you may be today
Listen to the words I’m singing
I hope this song will wake you up
And melt your cold hard feelings.
You don’t know, but because of you
That I have stopped eating
I stay up wide awake at night
‘Coz of that sick joke you’re playing
And one day, when I love again
Hope that it’s with someone not like you
Someone like you who has a heart of stone
You don’t know, but because of you
That I have stopped eating
I stay up wide awake at night
‘Coz of that sick joke you’re playing
And one day, when I love again
Hope that it’s with someone not like you
Someone like you who has a heart of stone
Someone like you who has a heart of stone
This much I agree with Manuel Buencamino: “Kristel Tejada deserves more than just being turned into a prop or a tool. Let her rest in peace. Let her family grieve with some dignity.” This is where the pornography of grief should end, though – I agree that much – but Teo Marasigan’s rebuttal got me thinking a bit.
Manuel’s right: there could have been another reason for the suicide. The same is true for so many people who have committed suicide: yes, you cannot pin suicide on just one factor. To quote a statement often uttered in the wake of this tragedy, “suicide is complex.” And the complexity of this situation allows commentators like Manuel – and myself, even – the free pass of dissecting this situation. The same complexity that allows activists to create a battlecry around the circumstances of Kristel’s death. The same complexity that allows us to all grieve and cry, whether genuinely or in one of those self-serving orgies of preaching to the crowd. Or even finding dignity in protest.
There’s where I disagree with Manuel, though: if it’s that complex, should society wash its hands of the responsibility that comes with the death of a brilliant student whose dreams were dashed by poverty? Especially if poverty is society’s problem in the first place?
The Zapatistas chose to start their war on January 1st, 1994, the day the North American Free Trade Agreement took effect. They took over the Plaza de Armas in San Cristóbal de las Casas without frightening the tourists on their Christmas holidays–this was so much the case that Marcos told some tourists who were going to the beach at Cancún that he hoped they would have a good time, and he told some others who planned to go to the archeological site at Palenque that the road was closed and, not without humor, added: “Excuse the inconvenience, but this is a revolution.”
- Elenia Poniatowska, “Subcomandante Marcos and Culture”
In her column on yesterday’s issue of The Philippine Star, Cate de Leon argues that “activism is passé.” I think her view reflects a lot of popular middle-class sentiments about how the students of the Polytechnic University of the Philippines burned chairs and school equipment on the school quadrangle – and how some students of the University of the Philippines wrote graffiti on the walls of UP Manila – to protest tuition fee increases that allegedly contributed to the suicide of Kristel Tejada. It’s the popular middle-class (or, using the term loosely, “bourgeois”) point of view that this kind of “hooliganism” and “vandalism” is unnecessary, ineffective, and inefficient.
I agree with Cate this much: “When you have a cause and you’re committed to seeing it through, you make it your responsibility to make sure you are listened to. If one method doesn’t work, you try something else.” There are a lot of methods of activism that I personally do not agree with, like pelting eggs at government officials or destroying the gates of school buildings. But if we continue looking at activism from that point of view, we’re missing the point of activism altogether.
This is my last night here in Kuningan, Jakarta: the new bustling and cosmopolitan center of the second largest metropolitan area in the world. This is the urban cocoon of Indonesia’s capital, where foreign tourists and people on business trips are greeted with something familiar. I spent most of my week-long “mission” of sorts in this area, so I couldn’t say that I have explored Jakarta, or that I know it like the back of my hand. I’m not here on tour, but on a business trip: whatever exploring I wanted to do, I had to cram in a day. No Bandung, no Kota, no Java Jazz Festival and Joss Stone, but enough of an authentic experience for me to miss it when I get back to Manila.
A week wouldn’t be enough to experience “authentic Jakarta,” much more so if work – not tourism – is the agenda here. What Jakarta has offered me in a day, though, is something that I will never forget.