I don't remember who said it, or where I read it, but it's been said that we, as a country, woefully lack an academic, objective retelling of the Marcos years. It's why, whenever the topic comes up - and it always comes up - we can't seem to agree on what really happened. One side says one thing. Another side says another. Nobody trusts the intentions of the other side. (Yes, I know there are more than two sides to this, but it's a convenient narrative tool, splitting everything down the middle.) It leads to a lot of loopholes, particularly of how key players can revise and rearrange the narrative to suit their interests, to make themselves look better, to make us question what we've long held as true.
I remembered all this when I heard of the sudden death of Noynoy Aquino this morning. He just had to die less than a year before the next presidential elections, one that he still manages to shape the contours of, even if he has kept mostly quiet in the five years since he stepped down from the presidency. Apparently his silence is because all this time he was very sick. That must explain all the breathlessness, all the coughing. I'll admit I forgot about all that. They were minor details compared to the accomplishments and atrocities he managed in his six years as president, but still, for someone who wrote so passionately about him so often, these details should stick with me.
Now is not the time to dryly assess the things he did. Everybody's got to pay respects somehow, begrudgingly or otherwise. Even his harshest of critics, his fiercest of political opponents, will have to make face and prove that underneath all the vitriol they are human, too, and can sympathize with a loss like this. In the words of satirist Andrew Hansen, "even arseholes turn into top blokes after death." Yes, I stand by using that quote, and you'll just have to look at what his supporters are saying now. Suddenly Noynoy's this great leader who had nothing but the country's interests at heart. Sure, he's flawed, but nobody's perfect. But compared to the president we have now?
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After two weeks of noise, in the end, we're still required to wear these fucking face shields.
Never mind that this supposed second level of protection hasn't prevented a spike of cases a few months ago here in Manila, and a spike of cases currently happening in some major provincial capitals. Never mind that the requirement only exists to remove one more responsibility from the national government, who can freely blame us if cases go up instead of actually working on proper testing, tracing and isolation policies. Nope. We're still wearing these fucking face shields.
It was a weird two weeks, though, because it felt like the requirement was going to be lifted. The noise - particularly from some popular politicians, those with a definite eye towards higher office next year - was loud enough to move things on its own accord. Arguably it was an increasingly rare glimmer of hope for Filipinos who've frankly had enough of this aimlessness. At least removing these fucking face shields would tell us that we're making some progress.
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Yes, the title is correct. Congratulations to the current administration.
When 1Sambayan - the political coalition seeking to present a unified opposition and ultimately unseat Rodrigo Duterte and his allies from power - revealed its list of six personalities who it is considering to field as president or vice president, there was... nothing. Nothing at all.
Granted, they made their announcement on a Saturday. It may have been symbolic considering it was Independence Day, but nobody really pays attention to anything on a weekend - especially now that every boundary has been blurred - unless it's catastrophic. But then, the politically-minded people on my social media feeds - those who don't want another six years of whatever Duterte started - didn't seem that excited either. I doubt it's only because they made the announcement on a Saturday.
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I had a long essay planned about yesterday.
It was going to start with events from a few days before, from Saturday morning, when I had some blood work done, and more attempts at small talk with the lab technicians who was getting my samples. It would weave through conversations I've had with people over the past few weeks, and of course, it would include a lot of my thoughts (not that you need more of them) on the matter. And then, on to yesterday morning, from the bleachers to the queues, to even more small talk, and then, perhaps, a half-triumphant ending.
Instead, I'll only talk about breakfast with Shalla yesterday morning.
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