Skip to main content

Porcos ante margaritas


MUSMOS pa nang makamulatan na meron palang larong siklot—pulos mumunting bato lang, sandosena, sasapuhin sa lukong ng palad… ihahagis pataas, may masasalo sa likod ng palad… ang mga nahulog, connect those huge dots on the playing surface.

‘Baboy’ ang tawag sa maisusubing bato bawat naipanalong yugto ng siklot… sa ganoong lapat-kamay na paglilibang isinalang ang napakahabang kamusmusan, kaya umaalingasaw na mga ulbuan ng baboy ang natipon… a lot of pigsties for your eyes and probable pork barrels to satisfy many a lawmaker’s rapacity.

Diablolo na talaga ngayon. Walang humpay na humaharurot sa higit na 50 panahon ng tag-ulan at tag-araw, and unleashing an unbroken garland of swine before pearls… porcos ante margaritasso sinfully deviant, unheeding of the Messiah’s counsel not to scatter pearls before swine, margaritas ante porcos, lest the gems be trampled underfoot and maybe ground to a powder… uh, pulverized pearls have been added to special facial creams concocted by Chinese apothecaries who believed that such a preparation results in flawless complexion.

Kasi naman ngayon, may inferiority complexion daw ang hindi nagtataglay ng singkinis inidorong kutis… kaya maraming nagpapasaksak o lumalaklak ng balde-baldeng glutathione upang pumuti ang balat na kayumanggi.

Mutya—isa pang katuturan ng perlas sa silangan. Hindi talaga ihinahalo sa mga baboy na kinukutya, magkatugma pero hindi magkatugon ang mutya at kutya.

Idagdag pa na sa mga kawan nga ng baboy itinaboy at pinapasok ng Mesiyas ang sampulutong ng mga demonyo… hindi ko matandaan-- Sunday school is such a far-flung childhood memory— if ‘twas Legion or Religion the name they owned up to…

In any case, my Latin tells me legion or
ligare suggests a binding, lashing, tying up in knots… so religion must be those diabolical ties that bind and refers to Metro Manila traffic that’s often tied up in tangled knots and nooses… what a demonic show of Filipino religiosity!

So I’ve got my flocks of ravening pigs with demons dwelling in them, tended and multiplied many times over since childhood… all you’ve got are your pearls of wishdom
, pwe-he-he-he!

Napagsabihan pa nga noon ng mga matatanda na nagiging matigas daw ang ulo ng mga batang madalas maglaro ng siklot… baka naman pamahiin lang ‘yon, hindi naman kasi nila tinukoy kung aling ulo ang titigas.

Saka, wala namang mahalungkat na masama sa mga baboy… pinagagala noon sa lawak ng mga tiwangwang na lupain magbubungkal ng truffles, magkalat ng dumi… once the land is infused with manure and turned many times over, it becomes fit for growing crops… haram o bawal kainin sa mga Muslim at Hudyo… there’s this abiding belief that you are what you eat.

Ah, a pig’s orgasm lasts 30 minutes.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Every single cell of my body's happy

I got this one from Carmelite Sisters from whose school three of my kids were graduated from. They have this snatch of a song that packs a fusion metal and liebeslaud beat and whose lyrics go like this:

"Every single cell of my body is happy. Every single cell of my body is well. I thank you, Lord. I feel so good. Every single cell of my body is well."

Biology-sharp nerds would readily agree with me in this digression... Over their lifetimes, cells are assaulted by a host of biological insults and injuries. The cells go through such ordeals as infection, trauma, extremes of temperature, exposure to toxins in the environment, and damage from metabolic processes-- this last item is often self-inflicted and includes a merry motley medley of smoking a deck a day of Philip Morris menthols, drinking currant-flavored vodka or suds, overindulgence in red meat or the choicest fat-marbled cuts of poultry and such carcass.

When the damage gets to a certain point, cells self-destruct. T…

Billboard blight (PJI editorial for 3 April 2005)

HEAR it as a prolonged shrill shrieking that chafes and seeks to scrape off chunks of sanity of any man in the street.

Or it can be seen as an overstrained stretch of sameness so hideous it virtually slams splinters into the eyesight of those on commute via Aurora Boulevard from Cubao in Quezon City to Sta. Mesa, Manila.

See, those ubiquitous billboards look as harmless as a stream of insults heaped by a nagging wife upon her henpecked husband. The poor bloke takes it all in as test of monumental forbearance. Groan and bear it.

It is likely the same tattoo of advertised sales pitch is a tad too close to Pavlovian conditioning. The billboards are intended to make consumer commuters drool like famished dogs at a wide array of products and services for sale.

Could Dr. Ivan Pavlov and his experiment with dogs on conditioned reflexes be the operative mind-set behind those billboards that hold thrall over Metro-Manila’s major thoroughfares? Are we really going to the dogs?

So they prob…

Viagra au naturel

IT LOOKED eerie—a blaze of fireflies pulsing like stars in the nippy air, throbbing with mating passions. That show of lights somehow eased the shadows of a Holy Thursday night on a dry river bed a few kilometers trudge up Mount Makiling.

It’s likely that no river has lain in sleep for months on that moss-grown, boulder-strewn bed—except my 20-year old kid Kukudyu and I. We were out to spend the night, do on-site learning sessions by the next day. Usual father-and-son bonding. As the late Benjamin Franklin once begged: "Tell me and I forget. Teach me and I remember. Involve me and I learn."

Past noon from the foot of the mountain’s northern section, it took us four hours ploughing non-stop through prickly bushes and forest undergrowth to get to that site. We got there in one bruised piece. By then, dusk was falling; the sylvan air hummed with a trill of crickets, cicadas, critters nameless in choral orison. That incessant “sh-r-r-e-eemmm---“ layered with “k-kr-r-eeengg--” …