Maybe you remember me….maybe you don’t. For those who do, then you’re probably wondering where the hell I’ve been. Maybe you aren’t. But I’m gonna throw out the same explanation anyways.
I took a karma break.
Yep! I convinced myself that I needed to focus on being positive so that more positive things would come my way. No more saying mean ole things about Filipinos seemed like a good place to start. It wasn’t. In fact, things got worse, even.
At first, I thought they were. I got out of Manila into a quiet place with green grass and a lot less noise. I was able to go outside more…enjoy life more. I even got a German Shepherd puppy. I thought to myself “Penance, old boy…it’s going to get better now.”
But the quiet place suddenly started getting Manila style traffic every day. I’ve come to realize as well that Filipinos are in love with having the loudest mufflers they can find, and think it’s fun to rev the engine at 3am as they speed past houses. And the german shepherd puppy? Turned out to be a stray that the sellers used hair dye to disguise. So now I have traffic, noise, and a stray dog as a pet. I can live with that. But then it gets worse.
The Cult of Dutertards.
As we all know, Duterte happened. We, as intelligent creatures from what must now seem like another dimension, tried to warn them. We really did. We used logic and reasoning. That didn’t work. We yelled at them and told them how stupid they’re being. That only made them tingle in their special place. We tried to find out where they’re handing out the cups of grape kool-aid, but we failed to find it. In our reports back to civilization, we must inform the rest of the world that we failed. There is no saving the Filipino. It’s time to scrub the whole operation.
The Filipino mind, while baffling to us, is still relatively simple. It consists of one part “Uhhh…..what?”, two parts “Sorry po!”, and the remaining parts being divided equally among “Give us money! We’re poor!” and “Give us money, you’re rich and can afford it!” and “Give us money because it’s everyone else’s fault!” While normally this can be ignored, much the same way that Jane Goodall ignored apes and monkeys throwing poo at each other, it takes it to a whole new level when it enters your own home.
Welcome To Hell In The Home
I’m sure I’m not alone here. We leave our comfy comfort zones to travel all the way across the world to be with that “special someone”. We deal with the usual laundry list of issues of money to lazy family members, the sudden rash of emergency family medical issues that seem to happen as soon as you move here. We deal with the bad customer service, the garbage, the unsanitary conditions and bad food because we convince ourselves that at least we have that one special someone and a lot of cheap alcohol to make it all blur away. And then, one day, you find out that your special someone is a Dutertard cultist, and your whole life changes.
Suddenly, you can’t talk about the obvious anymore, such as why all of these people are dying. You can’t question why the first of three steps towards martial law has happened, and now they’re pushing for phase 2. You can’t ask why everyone was so against the tens of thousands killed and tortured during the last round with martial law, yet now everyone wants it all over again. Nope. You can’t talk about those things because she blows up at you, saying that if you don’t support all of these extrajudicial killings, you must support the drug lords. You hear her say that, even if her own children are falsely accused and killed, it’s for the greater good. You hear her say every excuse in the world why, no matter how much the child in charge fucks up, he can do no wrong because everyone else just doesn’t understand the plight of the Filipino.
It’s in this moment…this one, shiny turd of a moment that you realized the hard, horrible truth: