Riding on Bayo's Remains

That's how I see the recent ad of Belo.

In the vernacular, nakisakay.

(Courtesy of projectvanity.com)

What leads me to say that is, if there's anything that can describe "celebrity" doctor Vicky Belo, it's that she is media-savvy: she has cornered the entertainment market (being associated with local celebrities and even showing up in entertainment programs) and parlayed their star power into business success. 

It makes it, therefore, incredulous if she will claim not to have known about the recent brouhaha that clothing company Bayo has figured in with their "percentage" ads. Someone who has her ear to the ground where popular culture is concerned, who makes it a point to be in the spotlight as much as she can - both professionally and personally - will not be credible if she says she knows squat about the recent "racist" controversy by that ad campaign.

The only conclusion I have is that she is in fact building on and stoking the controversy wave produced by Bayo. The Belo Men ad doesn't even bother hiding its homage with the placement of a percentage figure in a prominent spot. As we say in our native language, nakikisakay. (Riding on the coattails) 

And somehow, basing on how Belo has projected herself, it makes perfect sense.

Dinner With Nicole R.'s Body Double

Having had a very strenuous work week, I was looking forward to staying home for the long weekend when Arthur calls to tell me that we have to meet up with a friend of his - "we have to" - and so I readied myself with much grunting and grumbling.

(Good thing we were meeting his friend at a place that served good food, which served to alleviate some of my misgivings about having a late dinner.)

What I didn't know was that I would be meeting the possible stand in of erstwhile socialite/former BFF of the more (in)famous "heiress" Paris Hilton, Nicole Richie. (Well, Paris has a more legitimate claim to the title heiress, her family being the owners of a known hotel line. Nicole doesn't sing, does she?)

(Photo courtesy of goddessmag.com)

Arthur's friend was so frail and, I swear, she actually makes how Nicole appears in the picture above heavy. She was very, very nice, and again, that helped ease the evening. As she could fill in - literally - for Nicole R., let's call her Leticia. (Follow the arrows: Nicole's double ->  Nicolette ->  Drop the Nico  ->  Letty  -> Make it prettier.)

Leticia was a successful entrepreneur, having launched many companies abroad (based in Europe), all of which are doing quite well. Happily married to a foreigner and with kids, she struck me as someone who epitomizes the term "made", at least in both her family and work life. She didn't have on "branded" clothing, as what I might have normally expected from someone who's lived abroad for decades, a refreshing change from those twits who just went abroad for a week and come home with completely different accents and turning their noses up on "dirty" ice cream.

As expected, a large part of the evening was spent discussing business possibilities and opportunities, seeing as how she was a businesswoman in Europe, which is in the doldrums economically these days. I got a chance to see a true entrepreneur at work: I marveled at how she seemed to take in every detail discussed at the table, and analyzing it right there and then as to how it would fit into her general business plans and how she could minimize any negative effects that were brought up. She was involved in everything: food containers, retail, property, fashion and beauty, the list went on. This was someone born to be an entrepreneur and a businesswoman, one who reveled at difficult market situations to see how she could beat it and make a living despite it.

I certainly laid to rest those thoughts that she would be as "heir-headed" (horrible pun, I know) as Nicole.

Just as I was beginning to like her for her acumen in matters of business (and as I was digging into a delicious heirloom tomato salad), she suddenly stunned us by saying. "Arthur, do you like my boobs?"

Dead silence as we were digesting what just happened.

Without missing a beat and with the same analytical mind she used everyday for work, she proceeded to name the pros and cons of the next topic she would bring up: "You see, I have been thinking about my breasts for the longest time. They're sagging, they're drooping, they're just sad. And they need to be filled out and up! No one wants to look at sad eyes, do they? And I can't wear anything right! All these wonderful clothes, always stuck in a closet because my breasts don't look right in them. I'm the anti-model, I make clothes look bad. So I went to a plastic surgeon, and after choosing from the catalog as to what size, girth and depth I wished by breasts to be, he worked his art and here I am now!...What, is it too small? Too raised? Does it make me look like a bimbo? I'll have it reduced if that's how it looks. I certainly need to look good for business. I'm confronted with business people from all these different countries and I have to look my best."

More dead air as this was certainly different from what we ordered for the evening. And to top it off, she turns to me as asks:

"How about you, Joey? Look at my breasts...are they okay?"

I said "Mfjhuksshjpwmqj." (Muffled response while stuffing my mouth with as much greens as I could muster. I imagine I would say the same thing if I had something of that size pressed against my face.)

She then turns "introspective". "You know, I really don't like how I look, that's why I've already had my arms and legs sculpted, my tummy tucked a few times. I feel so fat, bloated and ugly...the only time I am able to wear anything sleeveless and backless is after I've been refreshed by the doctor. I've been to him so much, I should really get one of those loyalty cards that give me a free treatment after 10 visits. But that's the only way I can keep up and feel presentable with all these presentations, meetings and lunches and dinners I have to transact business in and socialize. I have to look my best."

Arthur turns to her with an incredulous look: "Leticia, you were never fat to begin with. In fact, I've always noted how payat (thin) you were and always wondered if you were fed properly and have the right nutrition, even from way back. Look at you, buto't balat ka na nga, eh! ("you're all skin and bones!")...I don't understand how you can say you're bloated."

Leticia says with much conviction: "Basta. (No direct English equivalent, something akin to "no more discussion, that's it, take it or leave it" but yet, not quite.) I feel fat and ugly. In fact, next, I'm having my cheekbones raised and my facial features enhanced."

I looked at Leticia from head to feet - as much as one can from a seated position, anyway - and wondered how was it possible that this business-savvy woman, with many companies to her name, a confident, killer attitude in conquering places where few women would think of setting foot in and manage to shine and outsmart the men in their game, could have a self-esteem so shattered and broken, that even though no one could find anything wrong with her physically, managed to be laden with self-doubt and unattractive pity for her physical stature that she had to overhaul herself - there's no other word for it - so as to give herself a sense of "worth".

Needless to say, my initial admiration for her fell the way credit ratings for Greece have fallen: a fast, sharp, downward fall.

When we got home, I asked Arthur to show me pictures of her when he knew her way back when. She was stunning in that photo I saw. She didn't have a square jaw, but soft features. Arthur was right, she would never be considered "fat" by any stretch of the imagination. She would probably be thought of as "malnourished" by some quarters, in fact. She had on a smile that seemed to indicate how carefree she was - and how unconcerned she was with her physical features.

A far cry from what I witnessed a few hours before I saw this picture from a past I'm not sure even she recognizes anymore.

It also drove home what it means to live in these times: we are supposed to be ashamed of every "flaw" we find in our bodies these days. We must be incredibly lazy, inept or just plain "uncaring" if we insist on carrying on our balding hairline, our blotchy skin, that crooked smile because of uneven teeth, those pesky last 10 to 15 pounds, that "cute" height (read: being short), frizzy locks. The message is no longer how we can "improve" ourselves, but how wretched our lives will be with our present, "unedited" state, and that true success and satisfaction can only be achieved if you let cosmetic surgeons, dermatologists, fitness professionals, stylists, hairdressers, dentists and a whole lot more industries come in and "fix" what's "wrong" with us.

We've taken the concept of "Photoshopping" ourselves to incredibly superficial, twisted and dangerous levels. It's come to the point where there is no more "self" left to salvage in our own self-worth.

I didn't realize our individuality was supposed to make us cringe and fear our own skin.

"We Are A Christian Country"

That's according to Sorsogon Bishop Arturo Bastes, who recently chastised the Kapisanan Ng Mga Brodkaster Ng Pilipinas (KBP), for not regulating certain radio disc-jockeys on the late night circuit who "are using indecent and vulgar language." (Read the full story here: http://newsinfo.inquirer.net/93841/bishop-wants-foul-mouthed-radio-djs-disciplined)

(Photo courtesy of philamnation.com)

While that is certainly an expected statement from a member of the Catholic hierarchy, it does not mean that is the only viewpoint we should be listening to.

First off, I wished the (Philippine Daily Inquirer) reporter asked the bishop to give specific names of disc jockeys or radio programs which offended his religious sensibilities, that way, any one would be able to gauge that statement for themselves.

I haven't listened to FM radio in a long time, since they seem to be more focused on yakking about inane personal details than playing music - which is the reason my mind shuts off when I hear an inkling of AM radio, the commentators don't seem to tire out from their monologues. (If they're on something, I wish they'd share it with the rest of us. There are days when 2 cups of coffee just ain't doing the job.) With the advent of digital music players, it's easier to just cut off the background noise.

If the disc jockeys/programs in question are indeed guilty of breaking the law, then by all means, the government and the KBP should exert all efforts to ensure that they are punished accordingly. (Offhand, legal provisions on that broad category of "indecency" would probably be enough to charge any offenders.)

What I find disturbing - monumentally - is why Bastes was complaining: his contention that "we are a Christian country" certainly leaves a bad taste in the mouth, particularly for those who have been advocating a more secular space and tone where discussions of laws and government are brought up, in the context of a democratic government and country.

And what bothers me is that his statement is no different from when the Spanish conquerors claimed these islands for their king centuries ago: He makes it seem like the Philippines has been conquered, and is now the property of the Catholic Church, Inc.

So much so that the way things happen and are run in this country should be to THEIR specifications. Here is a small list of what I have observed as things they want to have or happen:

No talking about sex.

Presidents of a democratic country should bow down to us and our whims.

Catholicism IS Christianity. All other "Christian sects" are invalid.

We don't care about offending other religions and "their" feelings. But no one should dare say anything negative about the Catholic faith! (I wager they must miss the days when beheadings still took place.)

What our religion says SHOULD be inscribed into secular law.

Feel free to add your own observations here: ____________________________________.

Let me reiterate: if laws have been broken, then prosecute, charge and punish. And by laws, I mean secular laws, the laws by which all citizens of this country are bound to, regardless of religious preference.

The bishop is forgetting one important fact: Catholicism does not hold the monopoly/trademark on what is to be deemed moral/correct/righteous.

Unless we have transformed our form of government into a theocracy, we would well be reminded of a basic truth in a democracy: Religion is a CHOICE.

Someone reacted to my previous post about Mary the Catholic deity, saying that we cannot fault anyone for thinking that all Filipinos are Catholic, seeing as majority subscribe to that religion. Bellowing out statistical data is not the same as respecting everyone's rights under a democracy. Being the religious majority does not give anyone the right to summarily disregard other religions. To paraphrase what Father Joaquin Bernas has stated (one of our Constitution's framers), in a democracy, all religions are seen as equal, and no one religion is to be treated as "superior".

And rightfully so.

Everyone should be seen as equal, under a democracy.

Unless anyone wants to contest that.