I DON’T WATCH HUMAN COCK FIGHTS. DO YOU?

The salty sweating of his bruised skin makes the pain sharp. While adrenaline rushed through his veins, bright arena lights become more vivid, becoming less of an anesthesia. Beside him lay the unconscious opponent, beaten up, face undressed of any pride. The hot crowd goes wild while red drops ooze from his wounded brow. They don’t care the pain of either men in the ring. They care about who remains standing and who might as well be dead on the floor. His world stops for two seconds, until he finds one arm raised and he knows: he just bagged glory on the national level, and millions of money. Suddenly all pain turns to sweet rejoice. The referee says his name and new title. He closes his eyes for a sudden prayer. His mother wipes bittersweet tears while she gags in praise of the saints. Meanwhile, on the other side of earth, bills get exchanged as bets get a verdict. The media is in a frenzy while all channels flag the same shit. It’s like the second coming of Christ being reported on tv. News story? Mass baptismal going on for all atheists.
Our country’s reached the “hot” status because of the world titles (and dollars) Manny Pacquiao has won during the past decade. Steam has reached a point where Heroism is pledged redefinition (because everybody is too overwhelmed by the fact that we are finally digging our country’s dignity from the grave) and Sports and Politics find their ways merging. I’m cool about the positive things those championship belts has brought to our country and to Pacquiao. But sometimes, I just find myself asking, how could you people be so cruel and inhumane to recognize ass-kicking as a sport?
Surely you see that there is a difference between a bar fight and a boxing match. I see that, too. Bar fight has a lot more steam (you are fighting out of hell-yeah rage and not for your country’s “pride” or money to keep food on the table), is manlier (no boxing gloves for less sharp pain), has limitless action (no referee) and is a lot more natural (it’s a spontaneous ass-kicking). If you have seen a bar fight, or a kanto fight at least, and from it felt thrill and entertainment, then I congratulate you for being a total asshole. You are no less inhumane than the kings that took pleasure in gladiatorial games, happily sipping wine in golden cups while they watch the heads of their poor subjects severed. Don’t frown, it’s okay. The culture of violence will never disappear in the society, anyway. You are still a normal human being for propagating this culture through watching 300 and sharing torrents of like movies.
Anyways.
As difficult as it is for us to resist our violent nature, the media and human-activity organizers find it difficult, too, to resist the millions they can earn if they take advantage of our lack of morals. Because we shitty humans cannot be human enough to find contentment from cock pit arenas and spiders on sticks, they constructed a worldwide stage to broadcast other human beings pull a steamy ass-kicking scene on national tv. Thus, what you see every time Manny has a match. They know just what we want. We want to see two people contesting about who’s the better puncher and has the best punch-resistant body. We want to see a particular individual shame himself because some other dude from a foreign place was able to beat him to his knees. We want to see a scene where dignity and pride is on the verge, and only violence and pain can decide who deserves to wear a face after. And worst, as if the participants are horses racing through an oval track or cocks hopelessly battling in cock pit arenas, we bet our money on them like they are cards in casinos and not human beings.
“But Mia, this is Sports and patriotic fight for your country’s pride! You sick fucking idiot!”
Okay, label it all the terms you like, to mask the essential reality that’s behind. Suppress guilt and hide harsh truths by using technical terms and drawing lines between ethical and unethical. Call punching persons until they piss blood “sports” because it encourages them to be physically fit and thus live healthier lives. Present them in an internationally-famous stadium with bright lights and wild crowds roaring for support. Give them punching gloves and define foul moves to distinct it from bar fights. Sing the national anthem of the countries they come from so they seem to be more of heroes than paid fighters. Ignore the fact that their mothers are crying their eyes out at home because they worry for their sons. Let him hear his name called out by a testosterone guy to make him feel he’s such a noble man. Stick the camera to his face so he smiles at you and people back from your country will be confident enough that for him, this fight is for the sake of their shared nationality, not a career he got on all because he barely had money to buy food. Interview his wife and broadcast her Hermes bags to prove that Pacquiao’s fight is indeed for the betterment of his family.
And finally, for you guys who couldn’t afford a ticket to Vegas, sit back back comfortably at your homes and call a good friend you have always disagreed with. Bet against him and give the dirty hand sign because Pacquiao just won the match.
DISCLAIMER: I am not writing this to make a petition that boxing shouldn’t be a sport, or that Pacquiao should retire before he becomes completely cross-eyed. I don’t give much of a damn about you people, whether you are being sick fools believing all the shit of pop culture.

you like to see this anyway.

Protektado: MAKIKIALAM LANG (AGIT)

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Hudyat:

FEMINIST RAGE!

6:46 PM 8/9/2011

major – majorette
host – hostess
poet – poetess
manwhore – whore

There are worthless men in the world — plain and common, barely useful, void of a particular relevance. Born into this world ignorant, shameless, and undisciplined, they roam the world still with all these qualities, the only difference being able to communicate clearly and travel by feet effectively. The common man he is, lured by his selfish desires and victim to his monstrous libido, is nothing more than an animal that existed only for the purpose of providing the next generation of his species.

In a situation with a common whore covering nothing more than a fourth of her body, and a sexist undressing her with his malicious eyes, no doubt my accusing gaze would be thrown to the man. How dare he? And how do bigoted people justify this unacceptable behavior by putting the blame on the whore for wearing such skimpy clothes? Slap them faces with their unexplainable double standards. A woman is a slut when she who looks at a provocative man with desire, but when a man looks with desire at a provocative woman, the woman is still a slut.

I had to look with disgust as he wet his lips and his sight plunged deep into the woman’s chest. His gaze caressed her completely from head to toe, back and forth, and in between intervals licking his lower lip like a nymphomaniac. Desire burned in his eyes, and for a second i wondered how he managed to control the desire to fap right then and there. But I couldn’t roll my eyes, what’s to expect from him anyway? In my judgment he is a regular college guy, a conformist to the shitty trends of pop culture (he wore a pair of black, thick-rimmed glasses and an “emo” hairstyle that matched poorly with his shortsleeved gray polo; he wore in one arm two wristbands of colors green and yellow that made his outfit all the worse) and definitely uneducated with gender and sexuality. He had a pair of dull-colored, full lips, the type that would probably suck too bad when kissed (I shiver at the thought). By his facial features and overall aura, I guess he is a Scorpio, the sign for males with uncontrolled libidos and bad asses. More disappointment (and disgust) came to me when i saw his left hand and noticed two rings — in his ring finger was a silver band, in his pinky was a smaller ring adorned with russian diamonds. The latter was definitely feminine, a sort a man wouldn’t have unless given by a female. Only a simple conclusion can come from that piece of information: either he truly has a gay choice of fashion, or he is in a relationship and has cheated more than once.

The woman, i observed, had uneasily kept her eyes forward, never throwing a glance on the other side of the jeepney. She wore what would be more suitable as a sleeping tank because of the trim and design, but the high temperature of the day made it permissible to wear. I stole a few glances to see her ordinary eyes, and saw that she wore no makeup or any facial piercings. By then i made a short decision that this woman isn’t a whore. She isn’t any like the whores i once saw when i was fourteen — whores with invisible masks in their faces, tummies round because of beer, and souls bare of any dignity. The woman in the jeep is an ordinary woman out in the light of the warm day, aboard an ordinary jeepney, wearing an ordinary tank that she feels comfortable to wear. This brief profile doesn’t make her any less deserving of the traditional respect the young male who sat across her could have shown. As a matter of fact, nobody is ever less deserving of respect, not even whores, or manwhores.

A rebellious person with feet firm on the ground, I kept my eyes on the man, desperately sending a message the woman may be far too disturbed to say. My heart could only fight the anger and hate inside my chest, for I am barely in a position to do a gesture I have once did: raising a middle finger to a group of pre-pubescent boys who were whistling as i walked. Those kids ought to know at a young age that sexism is bad — covert, blatant, or subtle — but I cannot walk to them and give an instant lecture about the history of feminism, the meaning of sexism, and sexual harassment. My only means is the universal pissed-off gesture to show them how pissing it is to be in a post-feminist age surrounded by a few worthless males ignorant of the sexual revolution and acceptable gender-related behavior. That ought to tell them what pisses people and what they should no longer do. If I were the woman in the jeep, I wouldn’t think twice of doing the same as i did with the young boys. I wouldn’t tolerate sexism, or the number of men ignorant about how their carnal desires contribute to the degrade of human race. Young or adult, innocent or not, male or female, nobody is excused from not exhibiting respect, or not having one.