Through the looking glass

i missed my original flight, five days ago.  yes virginia!  so ? 

it's only now i arrived and i can't access my own fucking blog since my pwd is on the table top back home.

and no one’s gonna answer the phone, since i'm its only user.  shit! 

so i have to begin a new one.  a new blog with the same name.  this is insane!

here it is my first entry: after checking in outside of manila, i shuttled back in to where the action was.

it was still light.  i came to makati bringing nothing of the state-of-the-art sort from where i came. you don’t need a camera unless you want to dish out propaganda.  you need audio recording for evidence or for boasts.  (a lot of people like to hear their own voice.  nice!)

it was hard to go to where the stage was.  cars, vans and people occupied the street.  i tried walking towards the stage at ayala at the corner of paseo de roxas.  it was the biggest of them all since 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, one should say.

a lot of padres and madres, seminarians and novitiates were walking to and fro.  some were looking at the ground while walking, as if looking for something on the pavement to justify their being at ayala instead of at their rectories or convents or other. perhaps they're really just that contemplative, you know. 

i seem to have heard someone whispering loudly:  "oy, don't let that sutana get soiled!  father . . .  (inaudible) . . .  said he wants it back in one piece and it's an expensive tela!  hala ka!"

the noise from this part near the stage was unbearable.  the sound system was not, not, not, a good one.  it was  truly baaad.  if you used it as a public warning device in a hurricane, no one would understand what you were telling them to do and maybe a whole lot of people would die not knowing what you instructed them. these people in the rally, seemed to understand really good what the shitty sound system shucked in their ears.

they were also responding to the chantings of the speakers onstage and it would appear like everyone that was given a speaking part had real showmanship.  i had to leave the site for a while to allow my ear drums to recover from the onslaught.

i found a starbucks in greenbelt area fronting asian institute of management.  drank coffee.  ogled a very beautiful chiq.  she ogled back.  i smiled.  she got up and walked away but placed her arm on the arm of an ugly male.  ugggh!!! 

after having coffee, i went back to satisfy my curiosity about the rally that back in the states i heard was passionately organized and feverishly pushed by a satanic cult headquartered in new york.  so how must the satanists be doing their job here in the philippines, how far has their reach grown, who are and how big is their following? but this ersatz cult is not the real object of my deeper curiosity, aside from the chiqs i want to visit here.  in new york and london, they’re a dime a piece.  but it’s too scary, you hear, even just mentioning these gremlins.  specially in a blog.  it’s my dear grandpa’s and grandma’s diamond jubilee wedding.  my dad is gone,  he went away just last month. both gramps outlived him.  how sad.

i was dumbstruck when i saw a long-lost relative walking in the direction of that greatly coveted stage.  she, my long-lost cousin, favorite niece of late dad’s, owed me one hundred fifty pesos when we were kids. that was a hell lot of money at the time, considering that now i'm thirty f… ooops!  she never paid.  i cried when dad scolded me instead.  i never really intended to collect now but since she was doing a brisk walk, i sort of ran after her. i did want to reconnect with her.  she’s cute too, you hear?  too bad she entered a roped area with a hand lettered paper signage: 

restricted area. 

beyond the rope, were goons of the first order.  but they smiled with their lips yet their eyes tell you, no one goes through me!  you dumb shit!  i smiled too and backtracked.  you would not want to cross them, mind you.  they had that look of ‘seriosity’ in them, those ogres.  eeeeech! 

so i just contented myself with being where i was and stood there like a swiss guard at the vatican and listened to the speeches.  but it was all nonsense.  pure nonsense.  some pseudo ideological gobbledygook.

these people must be nincompoops to be coming here and listening to these fools talk their mouths away.  don't they have anything better to do? 

(now that, unfortunately, includes me, because as my mom used to say, i belong to the tribe of the foolish.  i sort of always took that as a compliment.  until my mom said, she really meant what she said with all her heart.  i almost wanted to hate her forever after that.  but you know, moms are almost always right…) 

as usual, tito guingona was there, all bones and skin.  propped up they say by the drugs he's taking day in and day out.

then there was this cory the tita, the witch who wore a quaint yellow robe around her petite tubercolic body.  she used to mesmerize those like a late secretary turned senator who was greatly hung, my late dad used to say.  there’s this general, he’s now a politician, and she wanted to tempt him too, they say.  she even fantasized having an en grande wedding with him, mmmyyyyy!!!  magggiiine dat!!!

she's supposed to be in her daily mah jong session, what in heavens name is she doing here in ayala?  how devoted this hag can get in driving a seating president away.  it mustn't be selos, you know, i really don’t think mike arroyo is that well-hung, which is this witch’s predilection. 

then there is this little boy, jo.  jo binay, not of b’nai brith. he walks with his dad, jo marcelo ejercito a/k/a erap.  he, daddy and uncle, frank drilon, walk arm in arm from a fire station, someone says.  i wonder what the significance of that was?  are they occasional fire men or do-goody volunteers?  emergency rescue boys, the kind they call bantay salakay?  eh he he he he  poor Filipino country, eees on fire, deeem boys want to play fire fighters...  or did they just set the fire by themselves, so themselves can put it out later?  hmmm? 

all those ladies and gentlemen in colors, wow!  a whole lot of colors!  i see the ones with red shirt, someone even had red hair to match. 

and hold on, there's a lot of money changing hands there.  almost right in front of the philippine stock exchange.  above them, is a sign of sorts, councilor kristina te or kristina te, councilor.  how very symbolic.  it's market, market fever out there, front a tha stock exchangah!  ah, whatever. 

she's the commander of the gift giving of that enormous amount of cash.  i wonder if i could also line up there, but i'm not wearing red.  (sigh!)  somewhere deep inside of me, i did wish that kristina te was not just a field commander in charge of donations.  but that she was my wife instead.  uh, wow! 

there are the yellow shirted ones, i think their emblems say they're university of the adam's sons or daughters or something.

and green shirted earth babes with la salle emblazoned on their wardrobe.  even their banners were green.  these must be the green minded people. 

but they left, whoa!  where are ye going?  why are ye all leaving?  the party hasn’t even started yet! 

i walked and walked and walked amidst the throng.  i suffered elbows, body odors (new york has a lot of that, too, mind you and it doesn’t fail to disgust me), bad breaths, sprays of sweat, saliva, all that shit when you’re swimming in a sea of the old and the young creatures, male and femme from the twilight zone. 

there was this priestly looking guy arguing with someone with a nameplate that said he was “adel”.  what sort of guy wants to be called adel?  yeeeccch!  must be a transsexual, hmmm? 

then i heard somebody say, ka totoy, ka totoy, pauuwiin ba natin maaga ang mga bata? then ka totoy says to somebody else, apparently not hearing, hoy benjie, yung biyak ko sa 4,000 mo diyan ha?  p#$&@-ina 300 lang yang dala mo!!! what is that?  humor me, please.  can someone tell me what that’s all about? 

then there are the black shirts.  like the ghouls of hitler, worshippers of horus -- hitler's favorite demigod.  their garments have lettering with the word devil or evil in them.  they must be the worshippers of the dark prince, for who else will keep going around town with the despicable name of that hideous creature from hell if that shit doesn’t love that abominable miscreantic flaw of Creation? 

there were also the white shirts.  theirs came from a government vehicle of sorts, with a red plate.  the government automobile came with a sort of blue sports mini van.  it also carried boxes of the white shirts.  they say it's for giving away to the ones they love.  how wonderful!  and it's not even christmas!

(to be continued after the next rally)