Me, again

  So today,    I had the rare opportunity to watch a very important Filipino Movie about Manuel L. Quezon for which this City where I live is named after. Off the bat, I have to say I already liked the movie even before I went inside the theater. After all, it's not everyday that you get to see Filipino movies invested deeply into their own psyche as Filipinos. And what timing it has, with all the political ruckus we're currently having! Filipinos undoubtedly love their "politics"! But once you talk about "psyche", there surely will be some disputes along the way with the first one being Quezon's own grandson Ricky Avanceña NOT liking the biopic at all! In a heated exchange with its Director Jerrold Tarog and leading man Jericho Rosales, he called the movie "a satire and a joke" because they portrayed his grandfather as a caricature of his real person. I for one appreciated the movie...for its historical references and artistic approach. At t...

Once upon a bleak time in the archipelagic Philippines, where a decent means of communication between natives is virtually unheard of (they can only communicate by shouting); a boy was born in poverty by a labandera who got fucked by a wayward American Soldier who was just visiting the islands, not having real purpose in life. The father went back to the States and left the brown-assed lowly labandera immediately after hearing of the boy’s birth.  This boy grew up to be the 20th century Jesus Christ in his hometown, or at least he was told probably by his mother who wanted saving of her own. He became a teacher of sorts, proud of his accomplishments despite of growing up half-orphaned and practically abandoned by a male parent/figure. By Jesus Christ, it could either be saviour of the masses or cause of mass hysteria. Either way, it became fixed in his brain that he had a destiny to look forward to, a kind of grand mission in life. The name of this boy-turned-faggot is Jesus “Jess”...