Don't Forget the Warays

Nearly a week ago, Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo regaled the country with her vision of the future and her lackeys were only too willing to share with her delusion. She unveiled her plan to divide the Philippine into four “super regions” to hasten economic development and delegate authority to the locals rather than retain the old system where “Imperial Manila” called the shots. I noted how she grouped Eastern Visayas (Region VIII), my home, with its richer cousins, Central Visayas and Western Visayas, into a super region. And when she rattled her proposed projects, Region VIII, the least developed of the three and one of the country's most impoverished areas, got only a few projects. This is understandable because Cebu gave her the votes in the last election while she was trounced by Fernando Poe Jr., in the Eastern Visayas.
Days later, a news article cited that 60 billion pesos (approximately $1.2 billion) was needed for infrastructure projects in Region VIII alone. The politicians interviewed expressed their fear that other provinces would get the lion’s share of the budget and the Warays, who need the funds more, would get the crumbs from the table. And this is where the government would gravely err.
In case they have forgotten, General Palparan failed to eradicate the New People’s Army in the region and once the rebels have regrouped, they will be free to roam again and oppress the Warays with impunity. If the government is dead serious in fulfilling its boast to finish off the Reds in two years, then Region VIII is a good place to start whatever end-game plans that they have. The Reds will simply transfer to the region when economic progress has driven them out of the neighboring provinces. Neglecting Region VIII is tantamount to handing it to Joma Sison on a silver platter.

In or Out?

Hiding in the closet must be as terrible as coming out, especially when someone who possesses the so-called “gay radar” does it for you before a worldwide audience. In the 1997 comedy, “In and Out”, Howard Brackett (Kevin Kline), a popular and well-loved rural high school teacher, discovered this shred of truth when his life is turned upside down after a former student, Cameron Drake (Matt Dillon), expressed effusive praise for his ex-mentor in his Oscar Awards for Best Actor acceptance speech before he dropped the bomb: Howard is gay! By the way, Cameron Drake had to beat Steven Seagal, whose chances of winning an Oscar is as dim as Osama bin Laden winning the Nobel Peace Prize, for the Best Actor plum, so the fictional line-up of nominees should not be taken seriously. And Cameron’s film is a spoof of “Forrest Gump”, while Steven’s entry is more hilarious, “Snowball in Hell.”
Like a pack of wolves smelling blood, the press descended on their little town to get Howard’s side. Peter Malloy (Tom Selleck), an out-and-out gay journalist, lingers in the town after his colleagues left for other “interesting human stories”, i.e. scandals. He badgers Howard to accept his sexuality because the latter thinks that he is just effeminate and not gay. Since it was a little town where the people are polite, nobody had the nerve to confront him about his real gender, but their actions betray their thoughts, including the school jocks who scramble to cover their scantily-clad bodies when Howard saunters into the locker room. His parents fret over him and his bride-to-be, Emily Montgomery (Joan Cusack), is worried sick that their impending wedding will be called off. Finally, Howard announces his acceptance of his sexuality in - of all the days of the year - on his wedding day! His distraught bride storms off, the whole town is rocked by his confession and Peter rejoices. Cameron hears of the news and returns to his hometown to atone for his tactlessness. There, he discovers that he is in love with Emily, another former teacher, and plucks her out of her depression. The movie ends with the town accepting Howard for what he is, including his colleagues in the volunteer fire brigade.
The moral of the story: it is not a person’s sexuality that matters the most. It is the individual himself.
Now, about that “gay radar.” I think that there is truth to its existence, and women and other gays do not possess the bragging rights that they alone have the special talent to smell a faggot from a mile away. I have met individuals whose “soft” actions arouse my suspicions and a little talk with colleagues – other straight males – would only bolster it. But we do not confront the poor fellow like Peter Malloy or reveal his secret to the world like Cameron Drake, although we act like the school jocks in the movie. Shame.