In 2000, Edward Said – the man behind Orientalism and the driving force of postcolonialism – did something that most public intellectuals wouldn’t do: he threw a rock in the immediate direction of Israeli Army personnel deployed at the Lebanese border. Not that Said hurt anyone, but the act of throwing a rock was symbolic: defiance towards his opponents, strength for his beliefs, and solidarity with his people. More than that, though, I think Said threw the rock not because he could, but because he should. It was him acting on the strength of his convictions.
This was 14 years ago, way before Twitter and blogs and all pretenses of being “intellectual” (more on that when I feel like it). Tumult and the disruption of public order are the order of the day in a critical society. Although most of us prefer it done in the “proper forum,” where the tumult and disruption don’t get in the way of our traffic lanes, our coffee breaks, or the speeches of the President, for that matter.
Which brings me to Pio Emmanuel Mijares.
I’m not being a grumpy old man about skateboarding. It’s just that they need a place.
I’m a fan of skateboarding: I watch the X-Games, I used to play the Tony Hawk Pro Skater series, and the history of skateboarding – Rodney Mullen, Jamie Thomas, Steve Caballero, Bob Burnquist – appeals to me. I don’t skate (and I can’t, for that matter), but I do appreciate the thrill of pushing the limits that comes with it.
At the same time, though, I don’t want to see anyone get hurt doing it. I’ve seen people twist their ankles on an ollie up the sidewalk. I’ve seen at least five skaters almost get crushed because they’re dodging cars while the “Do Not Cross” sign is on. I’ve seen two or three office workers get bumped by an errant skater.
I’ve overheard some conversations that skaters should be “banned” from BGC. I’m not so sure about that, though. The most authorities can do, I think, is to remind skaters to wear protective headgear and pads when they skate.
These are comments – verbatim – from INQUIRER.net’s coverage of the death of Andrea Rosal’s baby.
“maganda yan para di na maglahi ang mga tulisan mamatay na sana kayong lahat na komunista mga peste ng lipunan”
“Bakit di niyo ipinagamot doon sa Morong 43 na puro medical workers daw. Reklamo kayo ng reklamo na akala mo may utang sa inyo ang gobiyerno. Maraming ibang nagpapagamot sa PHG, kaya dapat lang na unahin yung mga taong sumosuporta sa gobiyerno, hindi yung mga gustong pabagsakin ang gobiyerno”
“Hindi man lang nabinyagan ang sanggol. Kung sa bagay, hindi naman naniniwala ang mga Komunista sa Diyos. Theirs is godless ideology.”
“MABUTI NA IYON PARA MABAWASAN ANG ISA PANG KOMUNISTA PAGLAKI.”
“Maybe it’s God will this child taken away by angels to have a better life in heaven playing and not growing up carrying a rifle as an amazon like her mom and late grandpa. NPA have no one to blame but themselves.”
“Kill all these communists….kill them all.
Kilala naman lahat yan….pakalatkalat….panggulo lang ang mga walang silbi.”
“sinadyang patayin iyan ng sariling ina para may maisisi na naman sa gobyerno ang mga pesteng komunista na iyan.”
Few things disgust me more.
Carlos Maningat writes:
“By bragging their #Laboracay escapade, they are also flaunting their skimpy ignorance of what Labor Day really is – which is about the massacre of protesting workers who asserted the eight-hour workday and other rights at work which most Boracay-goers are enjoying. But we cannot blame them, for their ignorance is only shaped by a socio-economic structure that is increasingly reversing the gains of workers’ movements and burrowing labour and unionism in oblivion.”
When I was younger, I would have probably said the same thing. Or close to the same thing: I would have railed on with complicated words and complex sentences. Then again, I’m in the twilight of my youth. I’m long past the sun and sand and surf and whatever you look forward to at the beach these days. I can happily lounge around the pool of some resort in hiking shoes if I have to, warming myself up for a date with the air conditioner and cable TV.
But this isn’t the reason why I “hate” #Laboracay. I have shallow reasons. That hashtag annoys the hell out of me.