By: Iris P. Concepcion
I heard the most impressive monologue last night in a hybrid presentation of children's voices. It was a set-up for a trashing debate. Sure, their opponents were also around doing their thing.
As the proceedings went on, this wonder of a girl started reviling the perfect women who put down her Mother. It was the most gut-feel, in-your-face admission of pained homage to someone fighting in the forefront.
Take this line: "Mom, I'd go out there and not cooped out here; do your face like a star; you are prettier than them anyway, how dare them call you ugly--they are just blabbering fat women etc...." while her face was streaming down tears in anger, affection and unique kid mentoring."
I do not know, that was heart-tugging more than anything else. Thom Yorke must have developed convoluted tummy calisthenics as he Japanned his thin hairtail. Actually, some people put up better than the others in terms of going out there for the limb and you might be surprised by how the unexpected people in non-traditional schools pick your mind and well, just do the right thing. Yorke stood up and left for a cause. He had missed the belly-aching middlepart spiel though. Had he stayed, he will be shedding tears for the brave girl-buddy.
In all sides of the fence, no one can claim exclusivity to virtue. The difference lies on how they are coursed through. Admission is always better than the defensive, angry lense-caught eureka moments.
Somehow, they always hit you with your morals. This is already very yesterday, looped in some addiction to surveillance in the name of "journalistic pursuit"; yes, the types who buy resorts at the first opportunity their eyes pop to an allocation than earmarking it for its original purpose.
It is very tacky to say the least. I have repeated this a lot of times and caught the ire of the trapped but listen, how did you amass that? Production work? Come on, I have seen your shots and it doesn't amount to millions by any angle. Any kid can do it for ten bucks with a cellphone w/ camera. Let us just be realistic here. Was that yacht truly worth the kill? It is crazy but isn't that laughable? You hoard shouters picked out from anywhere, slap them with money and prestige, make your detractors look like evil, just to protect a what, yacht? How surreally insipid is that.Spilling the beans on others to cover for one's own trangression does not make the accuser a saint. Shameful but true.
My point in the bargaining debate is: try. Sell that yacht, adopt a road in the province and spend the auction proceeds there. You wouldn't, right? You worked for each and every sail in the shore foyer. No problem. Just do not be too high minded about it. It does not amount as charity to God in heaven though. Throwing them away is more impressive than donning skinny jeans and circling your eyes with black paints while shouting "we are the reformists" in this modal country of ours. Doing the talk always gets the respect in the end. You could not belittle people via the purse war like you had worked for it 24 hours in the saltmine. People know otherwise.
The demarcation line here is always, owning up. I believe them better because I already know their works before they are spun out of proportion by some very enterprising sub-standard practitioners of the medium. No amount of Sahara sand can cover this up.
Lipstick does it best when worn than kept.