And so as not to confuse their patriotism, the cry of “PILIPINAS” is heard loud and clear. The last line reads “di na magpapaawat, iwawagayway na ang watawat,” and the song finally rests on a relic of the Murillo-Velarde map that is a testament to the country’s ownership of the West Philippine Sea.

By YANNI ROXAS
Bulatlat.com

Talk about the song “What?” and the next thing that comes to mind is “makabayan, ‘dre”.

Barely two months after the release of their song “What?”, SB19 was nominated in Billboard’s Top Social Artist award (BBMA) along with K-pop sensations BTS, BlackPink, Seventeen and US pop star Ariana Grande. A historic first for a Filipino and Southeast Asian artist, SB19’s nomination was a result of their fans’ (called A’tin) passion and dedication to increase SB19’s social metrics in all online platforms, from streaming to fan interactions.

And to think that SB19 has the smallest fanbase (roughly 350 thousand) compared to its competitors’ mega-giant ones. How A’tin carried SB19 to international spotlight is another story that has earned them the name “monster keyboard warriors”in this pop-crazed world.

Back to “What?”. The song has become SB19’s signature statement to come out of the K-pop image and carve their own identity as a Pinoy boyband. It brings out a new, fresh, and unique sound that has even raised the bar higher for Pinoy pop.

Meshed in various genres quite untried in the music industry, it incorporates different styles, changes in tempos, and levels of meaning wrapped in metaphors and imagery that could initially confuse a listener but all working beautifully in the end. This coupled with intense singing and dancing, and a music video that is over-the-top.

What is popularly acknowledged is that the song talks about self-love and empowerment based on the members’ life experiences as they struggled and sacrificed for years before they got to where they are now. It was a painful journey for the group.

In different circumstances, the members have known poverty, family separations and expectations, failing health, domestic abuse, self-doubts and depression even as they juggle work and studies during their rigorous training. (They were trained in the Philippines by a South Korean agency.)

And when finally introduced to the public, the bashers were merciless. They were hit hard for their looks (“ampapangit”) and for being “k-popish” which was said to be their doom.

But the boys persevered, and finally got their big break about a year after their debut single. There were songs before “What?” that drove fans to their side, not only because of sheer talent, but because they, too, were relatable. Then came “What?” which turned out to be an iconic song of self-love and love of country. No mistaking their being Pinoy.

The song title What? is a word play for Watawat. Raise your flag is a recurrent theme throughout the song, ripe not just with personal but patriotic symbolisms. So much is going on, as reactors would say, but no one can argue that the song is mind-blowing.

On a personal note, it speaks of raising one’s self confidence (“alam ko naman na di ako’ng pinaka ano magaling”), of pride for one’s beginnings (“lahat ng aking basura, pupulutin laging dala”), of remaining humble (“kahit saan pa ko mapunta, lapat sa lupa aking mga paa”), of never losing hope (“nakasarang bintana… ngayo’y nagbubukas”), of perseverance during tragedies (“daming sakuna… di ko ininda”), of rewards and grace (“darating din ang biyaya, marami pa sa lahat-lahat ng nawala”). And while the chorus talks of peace and religious faith, it also declares bravery and toughness in struggle (“bawat banat, iwagayway mo ang watawat”).

But, wittingly or unwittingly, it is “What’s?” social critique and patriotic stance that is more hitting and commanding serious thought.

Ferociously, it assails a privileged class, though claiming to be educated, that only sees reality with a broken lens (“bente-bente [20-20], paulit-ulit, intelihente, subalit, ngunit, basag ang lente, pinunit-punit”). On the other side, those devoid of power or less privileged could suffer dire consequences (“hinubog ng Dalagang Bakal sirit”). The latter is a reference to the Iron Maiden which was a torture chamber during the Middle Ages.
Becoming even bolder, perhaps coincidentally during this season of red-tagging, is the waving of a red flag, around which the members danced forcefully. No one is stopping SB19 for using red as a symbol of valor. And in the second half of the song this valor is turned into defense of the nation.

The allusion to Katipunan is subtle but powerful. As the song repeats its stirring chorus, SB19 delivers sharp and snappy moves as soldiers garbed in Heneral Luna outfits. They draw clenched fists before red and black flags waving proudly in the air. Their voices and that of the people who appeared as support dancers later become one, singing and dancing together, as if rejoicing in their unity and struggle.

And so as not to confuse their patriotism, the cry of “PILIPINAS” is heard loud and clear. The last line reads “di na magpapaawat, iwawagayway na ang watawat,” and the song finally rests on a relic of the Murillo-Velarde map that is a testament to the country’s ownership of the West Philippine Sea.

What? spells courage and defiance, and a call not just to fight for one’s own personal battles but more so for the country’s sovereignty. It is so uplifting at a time when the Filipinos’ fight for national territory is being treated by the leader of this country as no more than a “trash of paper”. The significance is not lost to their fans and to people who are listening to their music. SB19’s music and artistry evoke Pinoy pride, and for that this P-pop group deserves to go up.

The post Weighing in on SB19’s “WHAT?” appeared first on Bulatlat.

The conditions under which Alexandra lived, grew up and struggled have molded her character but it is also in this context that mythical creatures are enabled to rouse the viewer’s consciousness about the current state of Philippine society. Undeniably, Trese is rich in contemporary social realities that resonate with ordinary Filipinos.

By YANNI ROXAS
Bulatlat.com

So much has been written about Trese by now that it no longer seems exciting to rave about how this first Filipino animated series through Netflix has brought into the world’s gaze the mythical monsters of our youth – the aswang, tikbalang, nuno sa punso, santelmo, talagbusao, etc. Why, even the White Lady of the Green Balete Tree was primed for a successful debut on an international stage.

Six episodes, season one, and netizens were hooked despite the controversy over Liza Soberano’s voice (but Alexandra, played by Soberano, was meant to be cold and unemotional, said the writer).

Budjette Tan, the writer, and illustrator Kajo Baldisimo made Trese a comic book in 2005 but never became a household name for many Filipinos. It had its own share of fans, though, who were simply delighted when the comics crossed over to the streaming platform in 2021 and exploded in neon colors, magical energy and fantasy in scenes bursting with violence, horrors, and gore. Now almost everyone is talking about Trese.

The feminists in our midst have reason to celebrate the entrance of Alexandra as a no-nonsense heroine, cool, feisty and focused, and ready to slay monsters with her knife in the flick of an eye. If the Chinese have their legendary warrior Mulan and the Vietnamese have their lone warrior Raya (of the Last Dragon), the Filipinos have their mandirigmang babaylan by the name of Alexandra who can navigate unscathed the dangerous world of the natural and supernatural and keep, as enforcer of accords, the balance of both worlds — all for the love of family, homeland or country. That Alexandra’s two assistants, the twin Basilio and Crispin, are male pays homage to gender-fairness and women empowerment.

Alexandra, though, is not empowered or steeled without a price. Through flashbacks she suffers the torture of seeing her domicile attacked by criminal creatures, by her mother’s disappearance, by the weight of her father’s legacy, and by the constant battles she has to wage and muster. The conditions under which she lived, grew up and struggled have molded her character but it is also in this context that mythical creatures are enabled to rouse the viewer’s consciousness about the current state of Philippine society. Undeniably, Trese is rich in contemporary social realities that resonate with ordinary Filipinos.

For example, the battle between the natural and supernatural could translate into the battle between the weak and the powerful. But the weak is also quick to rely on a hero in times of adversity as Alexandra and her team are called upon to solve cases of oppression or injustice, be it theft, robbery or murder — the word “nanlaban” brings home memories. Even among humans, monstrosity is displayed by a corrupt politician lying brazenly and razing down poor communities or the police exercising brutality.

Likewise, among monsters, conflict is never alien as ghoulish criminals race for more power and supremacy. The fight among the powerful is more brutal as they have more skills and tools to inflict damage upon each other, and the stakes are far greater.

But the viewer can be so caught up in the thrill and excitement of the visual aesthetics as it works on our fears — with creepy beings on a roll, showing their fangs and bloody intensity, though at times staging cuteness, humor and sensuality – that the hidden messages could be lost. Too many images or symbols are dropped such that one has to go back to the story to explore what’s lurking behind the metaphors and allusions.

The realist vibe that Trese brings is set right off the start by the MRT train being derailed (so, so familiar), the shady streets of Quiapo, the New Bilibid prison, even the Meralco building and ABS-CBN (renamed ABC-ZNN). The spectacular Manila skyline is a stark contrast to the dark and gloomy alleys of the city that seem to await violent confrontations between Alexandra and malevolent creatures, whether in natural or supernatural form, resulting in gory scenes.

But the conflict too can turn inward, as in the last episode where Alexandra confronts her own personal demons. However, no matter the deceit, manipulation and lies thrown at her feet, she remained steadfast, unwavering in her loyalty to family, a family she defines not even by blood but a bond with humans and creatures borne out of a common struggle to keep the peace of the two worlds.

Where fate leads Alexandra will always keep Pinoy fans at the edge of their seat. The next season is keenly awaited. Trese is not only awesome and exciting but it’s story, though complex, reveals simple truths and hits hard.

The post Trese: Beyond folklore and monsters appeared first on Bulatlat.

“My art activism and activist art are life-long struggles to make life for myself and many others free and alive on paper, canvas, print as well as in the real humane world.” – Neil Doloricon

By RAYMUND B. VILLANUEVA
Kodao Productions / Bulatlat.com

MANILA — Leonilo “Neil” Doloricon, eminent visual artist and social realist, died early Friday morning, July 16, his daughter announced on Facebook.

Doloricon died in a hospital at past three o’clock this morning, his daughter Kat said. He was 63 years old.

The University of the Philippines (UP) Artists’ Circle describes Doloricon as a social realist painter, printmaker, social critic and educator.

At the time of his death, Doloricon was a professor at the UP College of Fine Arts which he served as dean from 1998 to 2001.

From 2017, he served as chairperson of the Concerned Artists of the Philippines and was named the organization’s chairperson emeritus at the end of his term in May this year.

He was a long-term editorial cartoonist of several newspapers, including The Manila Times and Malaya Business Insights. He was working at the former at the time of his death.

He also served as managing editor of alternative newspaper Pinoy Weekly.

He was also chairperson of the Committee on Arts and Humanities in the Commission on Higher Education.

Doloricon was an awardee of Gawad para sa Sining Biswal of the Cultural Center of the Philippines and holder of the Fernando Amorsolo and Guillermo Tolentino Professorial Chairs at the said college.

The UP Artists’ Circle said Doloricon was one of the pillars of social realism in the Philippine art scene and was popular for his paintings, murals, and relief prints that depicted the struggles of the masses.

In one of the first tributes to the artist, Bagong Alyansang Makabayan (BAYAN) Chairperson Dr. Carol Araullo described Doloricon as a true people’s artist.

“So, so sad. Grieving from the moment I heard the news. Paint the heavens in rainbow hues, Neil Doloricon. Or better yet, redesign the heavens through your social realist and sharp political lens,” Araullo wrote.

In a previous interview with Erehwon The People’s Art Center, Doloricon said, “My art activism and activist art are life-long struggles to make life for myself and many others free and alive on paper, canvas, print as well as in the real humane world.”

BAYAN Secretary General Renato Reyes Jr. said Doloricon was a pillar of progressive visual art in the country.

Doloricon had many exhibits throughout the country and abroad, among the latest of which were in Berlin and Moscow. (RVO)

The post Neil Doloricon, people’s artist, dies at 63 appeared first on Bulatlat.

By JANNELA PALADIN
Bulatlat.com

MANILA — “I do not create art for the sake of aesthetics. Art is always political whether we like it or not.”

This is what Kevin Eric Raymundo, the artist behind “Tarantadong Kalbo” said, as his recent work calling on the people to stand against the Duterte administration recently went viral.

Dubbed as “Tumindig,” Raymundo’s series of artworks use fists as main imagery, which represents the followers of the current president. In a series of posts, the artworks show how those who used to bow down in silence, stand up and fight. His posts went viral, getting reactions and comments from Filipino netizens.

Raymundo said he is overwhelmed and surprised with the response he received – his artwork was edited and reposted, each time with more and more “fists” standing up to fight.

“I wanted to create a piece that encapsulates what it feels to be an artist-activist under President Duterte and his terror law,” said Raymundo in an online interview with Bulatlat.

Raymundo said he has been using his platform to call out government misdeeds.

Asked for his message to fellow artists, Raymundo said, “Do not be afraid. Let us use our skills and talents to our advantage. Having the choice to ‘be positive’ in our art is a privilege. I am aware of my own privilege as well, and I will use it to amplify the voice of the oppressed even at the cost of losing fans.”

Apart from Tarantadong Kalbo, the Concerned Artists of the Philippines (CAP) has also launched a “Wakasan Na” comics series, showcasing the works of Filipino artists already fed up with the Duterte administration.

Wakasan Na was inspired by the comics of the same name that made waves from the 1970s to 1990s.

In its call for entries for Wakasan Na series, CAP said, “As we enter the final 365 days of Duterte’s reign, we resolve not to lose our passion and fury. We will not remain silent and allow the machinations of Duterte and his cronies to maintain power, nor let them sweep their sins against the nation under a rug. Instead, we want a swift end to the Duterte regime and his anti-people policies. Duterte, Wakasan!”(JJE, RVO)

The post Art is political, #Tumindig artist says appeared first on Bulatlat.

Ni ROMA ESTRADA at ROGENE A. GONZALES
Bulatlat.com

Gaya ng ating relasyon sa direktor ng pelikula, pinapanood natin ang dokumentaryo sa perspektiba ng dokumentarista. Ang kaniyang danas ay ating danas. Ang kaniyang pagtuklas ay ating pagtuklas. Ngunit hindi gaya ng direktor sa pelikula, ang dokumentarista ay hindi lamang nagsasalaysay kundi nag-uulat ng mga tunay na pangyayari. Tungkulin niya ang pagbibigay ng malalim na suri upang higit na maunawaan ang kasalukuyang pag-iral ng lipunan.

Sa lente ng tagapagpatupad ng “kaayusan”

Noong Hulyo 31, 2021, sa programang I-Witness ng GMA Public Affairs, umere ang dokumentaryong “Balik-Loob” ni Kara David. Inilahad nito ang kuwento ng ilan diumanong dating kasapi ng New People’s Army o NPA sa Central Luzon na isinuko ang armadong pakikibaka kapalit ang amnestiya sa pamahalaan.
Sa mga anggulo pa lamang ng kamera, kapansin-pansin na ang tunggalian sa pagitan ni David at ng kaniyang mga kinakapanayam. Nag-aagawan sila sa bawat kuwadro. Di magtatagal ay makikitang hindi lamang sa kuwadro nais makipagtunggali ni David kundi maging sa kanilang mga naratibo.

Sa hindi kritikal na manonood, timplado ang pagkakaayos ng mga impormasyon, imahen, at musika upang humantong sa pag-iisip na kaguluhan lamang ang idinudulot ng pagtuligsa sa gobyerno. Mabuti pa’y maging kimi na lamang at yumuko sa hirap kesa maghanap ng gulo—ito ang umaalingawngaw na mensahe ng “kumander na bumalik sa pagsasaka.” Pangunahing pangkabuhayan ang pagputol at pagbenta ng buho o kawayan. Ito rin ang realidad na sinunggaban ni David: “P140 lang sa isang araw, pero kung sila ang tatanungin, hindi pera kundi tahimik na buhay kasama ng pamilya ang mas mahalaga.”

May kapayapaan nga ba sa P140/araw o mas mababa pa na kita ng kalakhan ng mamamayang Pilipino? Kapansin-pansin na walang substansyal na imbestigasyon o datos ang dokumentaryo sa anumang usapin sa malawakang disempleyo, kawalan ng serbisyong panlipunan, at pang-aapi—lalo na ang pangangamkam sa mga lupang sakahan—na mga batayan ng paglahok ng maralitang magbubukid sa armadong paglaban.

Kapos sa panlipunan at historikal na konteksto

Bagaman walang anumang patunay sa loob ng dokumentaryo, makailang beses inilarawan ni David bilang “pinaka/kinatatakutan” ang mga diumano’y sumukong rebelde. “Kinabahan” daw siya sa panayam. Ang kaniyang pambungad na tanong: “Marami na po kayong napatay?” Talamak ang teknik na ito ng fetishismo sa kasalukuyang pag-uulat ng GMA.

Lahat ng apat na kinapanayam ni David—sina Ka Omar, Ka Lorna, Rogelio, at Ka Roland—ay pawang mga namatayan ng mga mahal sa buhay dahil sa militarisasyon. Sila mismo ang nagsaad na ito ang pangunahing dahilan ng kanilang pagsapi sa kilusan. Pansinin kung paano ito tinunggali ni David nang sabihin niyang naiipit lamang sa magkabilang panig ang sitio, na parang tinangay lamang sila ng agos at walang sariling pagpapasya. Ibinababa lamang sa personal na tunggalian at paghihiganti ang usapin ng tunggalian sa uri at hustisyang panlipunan.

Marahil ang pinakamalaking sala ng dokumentaryo ay ang pahapyaw lamang na pagbanggit sa karahasan ng pamahalaan bilang akto lamang ng mga unipormadong indibidwal at hindi bilang nagpapatuloy na patakaran ng mga administrasyon. Ni walang pag-uusig kung sinong mga opisyal ng militar ang nag-utos ng pagpatay sa mga kamag-anak ng magbubukid, habang ang karahasan ng maralitang natutong lumaban ay hindi makatwiran kailanman. Ang mga nagpasyang kumilos sa ganitong larangan ay inilarawang awtomatikong di tanggap ng komunidad at dapat isinasalang sa kahihiyan.

Hindi rin nito iniuugnay ang mahabang kasaysayan ng paglaban ng mga magsasaka para sa pagbabagong panlipunan mula pa noong panahon ng mga Katipunero. Pahapyaw nitong tinalakay ang paksyunalismo sa loob ng NPA at disoryentasyong humantong sa pagbubuo ng Revolutionary Proletariat Army subalit walang anumang pagbanggit sa Ikalawang Dakilang Kilusang Pagwawasto at iba pang pagsisikap ng kilusan higit dalawang dekada makalipas sumuko ng kanyang mga nakapanayam.

Sa panahon ng ligalig at ng madugong rehimen

Hindi tuloy maiwasang maihalintulad ang naratibong nais ipinta ng “Balik-Loob” sa namamayaning pasistang hakbangin ni Rodrigo Duterte. Kabilang na rito ang pagbuhos ng limpak-limpak na pondo sa National Task Force to End Local Communist Armed Conflict at “War on Terror” upang puksain ang sinumang manindigan para sa katarungan. Kamakailan, dumami ang ulat ng sapilitang pagpapasuko at panreredtag sa mga progresibong grupo. At ang mga idineklarang “NPA-free” na rehiyon ang may pinakamaraming extrajudicial killings.

Mayroon bang nakatagong agenda si David o sadyang salat lang siya sa talas? Paulit-ulit niyang binanggit ang mga salitang “pakikibaka,” “adhikain,” “katarungan,” at mga katulad na salita ngunit lumutang lang ang mga salita sa hangin. Malinaw na ang intensiyonal na hindi pagpapalawak ni David sa mga salitang ito ay paggamit lamang sa kanila bilang palamuti at mga ampaw na slogan.

Sa panahon ng disimpormasyon, malaki ang papel ng mga dokumentarista sa paghuhugis ng pampublikong kamalayan. Ngayon higit kailanman kailangan ang mga alagad ng midya na may sipat na nakaugat sa mga tunay na suliranin at hindi nandidikta lamang ng kanilang palagay sa mga paksang malaon nang danas ng masang api. (RVO)

The post REBYU | Ang dikta ng dokumentarista sa ‘Balik-Loob’ ni Kara David appeared first on Bulatlat.

“The Operation Pinta and Operation Dikit are unique because the message it carries is serious; issues and appeals that reflect the real situation of the masses such as ‘Land for the peasantry’; ‘Fair employment for the workers’. For most Filipinos, this is not difficult to understand.”

By ANNE MARXZE D. UMIL
Bulatlat.com

(UPDATED: Aug. 7, 2021; 6:32 p.m.) MANILA – Jon Bustamante, 52, can still vividly remember his dreadful experience on March 19, 1988.

He was 18 then, a student at the Pamantasang Lungsod ng Maynila and a member of the Kabataan Para sa Demokrasya at Nasyunalismo (Kadena). He, Rey Francisco, 21 and five other Kadena members had just finished what they called as “Operation Dikit” (OD) of anti-US bases posters along the main thoroughfare of Manila. It was 8:00 p.m., he said, when an owner-type jeep stopped and six civilian wearing men suddenly accosted them.

“The other five were able to run. I and Rey were arrested,” Bustamante said in an online interview with Bulatlat.

Bustamante said the men were obviously soldiers and reeking with the smell of alcohol. The men took them inside the jeep blindfolded, and then brought them to Nagtahan bridge near the Malacañang Palace where their torture began.

“We were blindfolded for three nights and two days, tied and interrogated while they tortured us,” he said.

Such harrowing experience flashed into his mind when he read the news about the two activists who were killed while painting graffiti in Albay.

2 activists gunned down while writing graffiti in Albay

“I was shocked when I first saw the photo. The photo alone will give you an idea of what happened. Of course I suddenly thought of what happened to us, but what happened in Bicol was worse and brutal. They were killed without hesitation,” Bustamante said.

“It seems that this is a standard operating procedure among the police that activists or critics are killed. What if the text would be ‘Run Sara’? Would the police shoot them too?” he added.

Getting punished for expressing opinion

Like the two young activists Jemar Palero and Marlon Naperi, Bustamante and his companions used grafitti as a form of political protest.

During that time, Bustamante said the Senate was deliberating the extension of the Military Bases Agreement between the United States and the Philippines. The Cory Aquino administration was just installed two years after the dictator Ferdinand Marcos was ousted from presidency, but Bustamante said the Cory Aquino administration had implemented a total war against grassroots organizations.

On the third night of their captivity, Bustamante and Francisco were brought to Letre in Navotas, then a secluded area. They were brought out of the car.

“Our feet and hands were tied with wire and our mouths were gagged. Suddenly I felt a strong blow to the neck which knocked me down. I was still conscious but I didn’t move. They use a long machete,” he said.

A few minutes after the men left the area, he shouted for help. A security guard heard him and found him. He was brought to the Jose Reyes Memorial Hospital.

But Francisco did not make it. He was hit twice and had an asthma attack. His body was found the next morning.

Due to the physical maltreatment, the left side body of Bustamante’s body was paralyzed for a while.

“I was able to recover, but not fully,” he admitted.

This incident forced Bustamante to go on exile. He is now based in the Netherlands and working as a web developer in a non-government organization based in Belgium. He is also with the overseas Filipino group, Migrante-Netherlands.

Valid acts of political expression

He said OD and operation pinta (OP) are forms of protest and not just a simple vandalism.

“There are OP and OD because there is no available venue for the toiling masses to convey their grievances to the general public,” Bustamante said.

Bustamante said that activists in developed countries also use graffiti as a political protest.

“The OP and OD are unique because the message it carries is serious; issues and appeals that reflect the real situation of the masses such as ‘Land for the peasantry’; ‘Fair employment for the workers’. For most Filipinos, this is not difficult to understand,” he said.

The Concerned Artists of the Philippines (CAP) agreed, saying that OP or OD cannot be simply dismissed as acts of vandalism “or the willful destruction or damage to public or private property.”

Lisa Ito, CAP secretary general, said, “The acts of political graffiti reflect how deeply entrenched inequality in our society is: that more people are turning to the streets to express anger and criticism because traditional avenues for reform, conflict resolution, and justice are no longer seen as viable or working. The police have no right to kill unarmed people who paint the words “DUTERTE IBAGS(AK)” in public.”

Repressive government

Bustamante said that the Philippine government has been repressive since Marcos. This is the reason why the people are launching various forms of protests such as OP and OD.

Ito also said that the country has had enough of the Duterte administration’s gravest human rights violations and misogyny, selling out to China and puppetry to the US, and grandly demonstrating the lack of will to protect the people from the harshest impacts of the Covid-19 pandemic.

“The act of writing the people’s calls on the wall is clearly an indictment and condemnation of the Duterte administration’s failure to govern,” she said. “It is an act of criticism that should never be silenced with bullets.”

Ito pointed out that the Filipino citizens have the constitutional right to exercise freedom of speech and expression. She said that the killing (of the two activists) is an act of impunity.

“It sets a terrible precedent in a supposedly democratic society: underscoring that those who dare dissent will be criminalized or worse, be robbed of one’s right to life,” she said.

“The very fact that citizens and activists are writing the sentiments of the people on walls—are are getting killed for this—says so much about our society. If the mass media is gagged in telling the truth, if the courts are passive in pursuing justice, if the police are the ones behind the crimes, are we surprised that activists and ordinary people turn to practices, such as graffiti, to signal that things need to change?” Ito said. (RVO)

The post Torture survivor: Graffiti is a valid act of political expression appeared first on Bulatlat.

By YANNI ROXAS
Bulatlat.com

Very few artists in mainstream OPM have used their music to advance social causes yet still remain popular and respected in the industry. Moreover, their creations may also be masterpieces, become timeless and resonate with audiences across genders and generations.

Just recently folk-pop band Ben&Ben dropped their all Filipino 13-track album entitled Pebble House Vol 1: Kuwaderno that showcased collaboration with incredible artists such as Moira de la Torre, KZ Tandingan, Chito Miranda, Zild, Juan Karlos, Munimuni and P-pop sensation SB19.

The music in the album is as diverse as the feelings and memories of the nine-member band who also went through what Philippine society was experiencing during this pandemic – from longing, to depression to disgust, yet still hopeful of human comfort, rainbows and empowerment. The band dived into the realm of personal and social consciousness and left indelible marks in the minds of their listeners.

By its sheer title alone, the track “Kapangyarihan” stands out as the boldest and most powerful track in the album. This Ben&Ben composition which was originally released months ago was enhanced, and displayed even more grit, by introducing into the new version SB19’s own rap parts, with bars that simply spit fire. Ben&Ben deftly held the new version all together in denouncing the abuse of power.

Fresh from their successful collaboration in a band version of the SB19 original song “Mapa”, Ben&Ben and SB19 again collaborated, this time witn Ben&Ben’s “Kapangyarihan”. The two groups bravely took a stand and delved into the issue of power and governance that other celebrated artists` may find alarming or fretful. The original song was apprarently a take on the Gregorio (mother and son) killings by a Nueva Ecija cop (later sentenced to life imprisonment) but the new version expounded more on state power itself and what must be done.

“Kapangyarihan” does not only ignite one’s brain cells but also heralds the truth about what’s happening in the country today such as extrajudicial killings, a fact known to every activist in town. What “Kapangyarihan” did was to bring the issue to a much broader audience, rousing the people’s consciousness, and affirming the truth that power comes from the people.

No name was ever mentioned but it is probably on everyone’s thought that the allusion to abuse strongly refers to the country’s sitting dictator whose relation to grandeur is his lies and pretensions. “Kapangyarihan” took one step further and laid down the real nature of state power that weaponizes the laws, courts and prisons to subdue the people that it purportedly serves. Hence the lines: “Nagsisilbi ka dapat. Nagsisilbi ka dapat”.

But the song does not leave one hopeless. A cardinal truth is unveiled: “Kayong mga hari-harian, Pagkalaki na ng mga ulo, Wag nyong kalilimutan, Hawak namin ang inyong trono.” And as if by saying enough –“Di ka naming isusuka, Kung hindi ka pa sukdulan” – the song serves notice that the powerful can be unseated.

The best parts have turned to defiance: “Di na magpapaalipin pa, Sa mga rehas mo, Di mabubuwag ng kahit anumang sindak, ang katotohanang ‘to”. Until, finally, the die is cast: “Akala niyo ba ang kapangyarihan, Ay nasa inyo? Sino ba kayo? Magwawagi ang katotohanan, Ang kadiliman ay ibabagsak.”

Such compelling and meaningful lyrics have made “Kapangyarihan” much more relevant in this time of impunity, corruption, treachery, and unbridled use of power. Ben&Ben’s and SB19’s progression manifest their continuing growth as artists of top calibre, infusing their musicality and creativity with the condition, hopes and aspirations of the common people.

Apart from the anthemic “Bayan Ko”, “Kapangyarihan”follows the tradition of popular classics such as “Tatsulok” by Buklod and popularized by Bamboo, “Rage” by The Jerks, ”Mga Kababayan Ko” by the late-Francis Magalona, “Upuan” by Gloc 9, and “Wala ng Tao sa Sta. Filomena” by Joey Ayala –songs in varying degrees that depict social injustice and class contradiction yet never losing sight of uplifting the human spirit, upholding human rights, urging unity in diversity, and conveying the people’s struggles and resistance. New generations of woke artists face enormous challenges but they will be rewarded with the support of the people.

The post #Kapangyarihan hits hard: Ben&Ben x SB19 round 2 appeared first on Bulatlat.

Alam ni Kerima Lorena Tariman ang bisa ng mga salita upang makapukaw ng damdamin, magpalawak ng kaisipan at makapagpakilos ng mamamayan tungo sa pagbabagong panlipunan.

Ang koleksyong ito ay mga tulang naisulat ng kanyang mga kapamilya, mga kaibigan at mga nakasama at mga tulang isinulat mismo ni Kerima Lorena Tariman.

Ang “Batingaw” at “29th of May” ay mga tulang binigkas ng kanyang mga magulang na si Merlita Lorena Tariman at Pablo Tariman sa isang parangal para kay Kerima nitong Agosto 28, 2021 sa Bantayog ng mga Bayani.

Ang tulang “Para kay K” ay sinulat ni Jose Sandoval at binigkas ni Edwin Quinsayas. Ang “Alay kay K” at “Kahit si Neruda ay Di Tumula Nang Gaya Mo” ay isinulat at binigkas ng mga nakasama ni Kerima sa CEGP-Karatula staffhouse sa mga taong 2000-2001 na sina Terence Krishna V. Lopez at Ilang-Ilang Quijano.

Sinulat at binigkas ni Raymund B. Villanueva ang “Binhi ng Tula.”

Ang “Romanticizing terrorism?” ay direktang sagot ni Luchie Maranan sa pahayag ng isang hambog na opisyal ng gobyerno na kumukutya sa mga nagtatanghal kay Kerima bilang bayani ng Sambayanan.

Ang “Duyan ng Digma” ay awit na sinulat ni Rommel Rodriguez at inawit ni Jasmine Icasiano, pawang mga nakasama ni Kerima sa Unibersidad ng Pilipinas.

Binigkas naman ni Sarah Raymundo, malapit na kaibigan ng makata, ang “Pakikipagkamay” at ni Ekis Gimenes, kasama ni Kerima sa Kabataang Artista para sa Tunay na Kalayaan (Karatula) ang “Serye ng Sobresaliente.”

Ang mga tula ni Kerima na pagpapasimple sa dialektong materyalismo na may pamagat na “Pagkilos” ay binigkas ni Terence Krisha V. Lopez at ang kanyang “Aralin sa Ekonomyang Pampolitika” naman ay binasa ni Ronalyn V. Olea.

Ang musical scoring ay nilapat ng mga kasapi ng Concerned Artists of the Philippines (CAP).

The post Para kay #KerimaLorenaTariman: Makata at mandirigma appeared first on Bulatlat.

By YANNI ROXAS
Bulatlat.com

As the International Criminal Court (ICC) opens an investigation on the crimes against humanity under the Duterte administration, one recalls a music video by a Pinoy hip-hop, rap and R&B collective released about seven months ago denouncing police brutality.

A word play for kupal-pulis, “Kupsilup” appeared on social media at about the same time that Ben&Ben first released their song “Kapangyarihan”. Both songs were triggered by a Nueve Ecija cop killing both mother and son.

It was a horrifying act that no sane individual could ignore, sending artists to find words and beats to express what they feel.

And the result was for ConStruck Music (name of the hip-hop group) spitting their strongest lyrics yet in “Kupsilup” in a lengthy rap verse that allows each member to smolder or spew fire. The group was just formed a year ago, crossing over from underground music to mainstream hip-hop.

The all-male members came from a community of dancers and rappers, some of whom had competed internationally.
That they chose to dive immediately into social issues despite a climate of tokhang, tanim bala, and all-around state terror was apparently an attempt to be true to the roots of hip-hop which started as a cultural protest movement in the 70s.

The movement was spearheaded by predominantly African-Americans who deplored their environment in the depressed areas of South Bronx in New York City.

“Kupsilup” talks about police brutality like you hear it on the streets or in the neighborhood, devoid of metaphors, just straight talk, but also sans the indecency and vulgarity common to gangsta rap.

Creatively, the music video was shot entirely in what appeared to be a police investigation room. Not to be a spoiler, but the last shot in the frame literally shocks and delivers goosebumps.

What actually started as a critique of a particular incident shot through the roof and exposed the very nature of a fascist police force enabled by a regime with its policy of “kill, kill, kill.”

Not just human rights organizations but the ICC has upheld that material evidence indicates a widespread and systematic attack, neither legitimate nor mere excesses, against the civilian population during Duterte’s drug war.

Such impunity and drug-related murders are found in “Kusilup’s” following verses:

Bakit ba kayo kumikitil
Inosente kayo nanggigil?
Respeto wala dahil ang totoong
Kriminal ay hindi niyo mapigil.

Sablay mentalidad
Sunod sa awtoridad
Sasabihing nanlaban
Yong menor de edad

Anong pumasok sa mga kokote
At biglang binaril ang may tattoo’t bigote
Kasalanan ng mga nangangati
Dahil alam na ligtas kayo sa korte.

Also, the people’s disgust of men in uniform, and their hopelessness and mistrust of authorities, find even more resonance in “Kupsilup”. This may not just refer to the buwayas in the streets but may even transition to the upper echelons of power, with leaders who may even be more guilty of unspeakable crimes that are graver and hidden from view.

Tulong, tulong, di alam kung tatakbo
Magsusumbong o magtatago sa mundong ‘to
Talaga bang bulag ang hustisya sa bansang ‘to
At mismong dapat promotekta
Ang syang papaslang sa ‘yo?

Hirap na magtiwala
Kung tama ang hinala
Umaasa balang araw sa inyo’y muling maniwala
Paano ba naman pagtitiwalaan
Kung kayo ay nasuwa’y sa sinumpaang katungkulan.

But what makes “Kupsilup” even bolder is when it starts to serve warnings. It does not limit itself to merely exposing or denouncing what it calls “pure acts of evil”.

Rather, if not stopped, it sees an impending people’s upheaval and armed opposition, too.

ahat nanggigigil. (UH!)
Kung pano kinitil, dapat ‘to matigil. (UH!)
These pure acts of evil. (UH!)
Don’t wait for the people to do an upheaval.

Earlier than the previous ones, these two lines stood out:

Kung laging ganyan ang alagad ng batas
Mga sibilyan mag-aarmas na lang.

What “Kusilup” says is increasingly felt on the ground. The Duterte Wakasan Na movement has gained broader support since the regime kept denying its accountability for the numerous killings in the country. If not ousted by the people before his term, Duterte or his successor faces the prospect of defeat in the next elections.

And as to armed opposition, rebellion or revolution since the days of the Katipunan has always been an option for many Filipinos, hence the persistence of revolutionary armed groups like the New People’s Army which has lasted by now for half a century.

If music like “Kupsilup” grows and expands, “Raptivism” may well be on its way to changing the climate of mainstream hip-hop in the Philippines, or at the very least find its respectable and popular niche.

The activist community, with rapper BLKD being the more prominent one, has long used rap to raise social awareness in forums, rallies and performances.

A few years back, in San Francisco, California, hip-hop artists in the Filipino-American community joined forces to expose the killings of innocent people in the Philippines in a benefit concert called Stop the Killings.

Back at home, the Concerned Artists of the Philippines would invite hip-hop artists, along with indie and rock groups, to lend their voices in various political rallies to raise awareness about the socio-political climate in the Philippines.

Hip-hop has its roots in rebellion and it is only fitting that it be recognized originally for what it is. (RVO)

The post ‘Kupsilup’ | Where’s the lie? appeared first on Bulatlat.

MANILA – A pair of shiny sickles, a golden, bountiful rice harvest, red flags waving over a rally. These are images from an illustrated book about two peasant organizers from Nueva Ecija who have been missing for 20 years.

The book is about Honor Ayroso and Johnny Orcino, activists and former political prisoners who were abducted and disappeared by suspected military men on Feb. 9, 2002. Entitled “Honor at Johnny: Matatalas na lingkaw ng Nueva Ecija,” the book is being written by Aleli Dew Ayroso, Honor’s wife and Bulatlat editorial cartoonist who goes by her nickname Dee in Bulatlat bylines.

“I want them to be remembered and celebrated as activists who served the people,” Ayroso told Bulatlat. “Activists are the silver lining in the bleak, dark cloud that is the world. They are not motivated by selfish interests, but by the desire to connect to people and bring them together to change things for the better. That’s who Honor and Johnny were.”

“That’s why it’s important to remember them, Honor and Johnny and all the desaparecidos, as heroes, not just victims.”

Read also: Aparición | Honor Ayroso and Johnny Orcino

Aparición | Honor Ayroso and Johnny Orcino

On Feb. 9, 2002, at around 7:30 p.m, Honor, then 34, and Johnny 44, were abducted by at least four armed men suspected to be soldiers of the Philippine Army’s 71st Infantry Battallion, in Encarnacion subdivision, barangay Sto. Niño 1st, San Jose City, Nueva Ecija. As in all cases of human rights violations, police and military officials denied any involvement in their disappearance.

“The state security forces are the ones with motive, methodology and capability to carry out disappearances. They did it during Marcos’s martial law, and we’ve seen how more activists were disappeared under Gloria Arroyo, and even now under Duterte,” Ayroso said.

Read also: Analysis: Martial law and back

‘After Palparan, Gloria Arroyo should be next”

Groups press authorities to surface peasant organizer abducted in Pampanga

Sharp sickles

Using watercolor illustrations, the book portrays Honor and Johnny as young peasant boys growing up in the top rice-producing province in the country and yet faced with hunger and poverty.

The two would continue to question contradictions in society as they grow up to become student activists. Johnny was a fraternity leader of the progressive Phi Beta Rho in Central Luzon State University in the late 70s. Honor was a leader of the League of Filipino Students in Wesleyan University of the Philippines in Cabanatuan City in the late 80s. They would help arouse, organize and mobilize hundreds of Nueva Ecija youths on issues about students’ rights and welfare, as well as agrarian reform.

Although 10 years apart in age, the two would eventually meet and work together as activists in the province. It was a time when the national democratic movement in Nueva Ecija strengthened and gained triumphs in agrarian and sectoral struggles.

Honor and Johnny were also deeply devoted to their respective families, and each occasionally took time away from work to be with his wife and children.

Days before they were disappeared, Johnny finished constructing a pigeon coop upon the request of his eldest son, then 12. Honor, meanwhile, organized a mini-library at home, all the progressive books he had collected with his wife for future reading by their two children.

Work-in-progress

The book is still a work-in-progress, as Ayroso is still polishing up the images. She said she had mulled the idea of an illustrated book for years, but had taken too long to get started. Like other families of desaparecidos, she gets gripped by grief and trauma whenever she recalls the incident, specially when the day of their disappearance approaches.

Like most families of victims, even after two decades, Ayroso feels like it happened yesterday. A mix of despair and helplessness leads to her seasonal inactivity, usually starting December leading up to February the next year. Both Honor’s birthday and that of their son, Abril Layad, are in December.

“Honor should’ve been 54 last December. When he was disappeared, our son was six, our daughter was just turning two,” she said.

But the “dark clouds” eventually pass and dissipate.

“I try to remind myself that we’re also targets of the perpetrators and that we should not fall into their intended consequences: for us to grope in the dark, feel hopeless, and resent the people’s movement. They want us to be afraid, to crouch in our gloom and rage, stop searching for justice,” she said.

Ayroso, who is a Palanca awardee for short story for children, has actually written about the search for Honor in 2002. Her children’s story, “The fireflies keep hoping, glowing,” was published in The Philippine Daily Inquirer on May 5, 2002. It was prompted by then editor-in-chief, Letty Jimenez-Magsanoc, after Ayroso approached Inquirer for help.

She said Magsanoc asked her to write something she could tell her children about their father’s disappearance. Ayroso wrote a tale about a missing firefly named Honor and how his family searched for him. “When it was published, messages of support poured in. It was heartening and I’m still grateful,” she said.

As in most tales, the story in the Inquirer had a happy ending, as Honor the missing firefly was rescued by a community of animals. The real life story is not as bright, but “the fireflies are still glowing.”

“We know Honor and Johnny are never coming home alive. The perpetrators have gotten away, the military officials have been rewarded and retired quietly. But did they win? No. Because we’re still here, aren’t we? And many younger activists have taken Honor and Johnny’s place,” she said.

“Yes, they were disappeared, but we will continue to write and tell stories about their lives, we will remember their hard work, humor and brilliance, and we will carry on. Honor and Johnny will live on,” she said.

Bulatlat will soon post a digital copy of the book “Honor at Johnny: Matatalas na lingkaw ng Nueva Ecija.”

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By MAX SANTIAGO

MANILA — Effigies of newly-elected Presidents always come as a challenge. The effigy should reflect the country’s political condition.

The new president, Ferdinand Marcos Jr., came into power as a result of an electoral process that was not transparent and therefore susceptible to fraud. On election day, there were numerous reports of machine failure and vote buying. Thirty-one million electronic votes catapulted him to the most powerful seat in the land.

The effigy has become a regular fixture of major rallies in the Philippines.

The Marcoses are no strangers to effigies. It was in 1970, after Ferdinand Marcos Sr.’s 5th SONA when activists hurled crocodile and
coffin effigies towards his direction. The protest was violently dispersed. This paved the way for the First Quarter Storm, a series of mammoth protest rallies that shook the established order.

Fast forward to July 25, 2022, the dictator’s son gave his first ever SONA speech. Bagong Alyansang Makabayan (BAYAN), a broad coalition of progressive groups and peoples’ organizations, led the protest in the streets, mounting an alternative telling of the state of the nation titled ‘The People’s SONA.’

Mad in Malacañang

Upon Marcos Jr.’s victory, controversial filmmaker Darryl Yap’s movie Maid in Malacanang was immediately greenlighted by Viva Films. The movie trailer goes so far to twist reality to fit the plunderous family’s narrative as they leave the Presidential Palace. This signals a new age of historical revisionism. Now that Bongbong Marcos is back in power, we could expect the new regime to fix their public image.

It is the late great filmmaker Lino Brocka who said, “…it is the supreme duty of the artist to investigate the truth, no matter what forces attempt to hide it.” Thus the effigy is in line with Brocka’s statement.

In his youth, Marcos Jr. was known to be a happy-go-lucky party goer. The video archive called the “Palace Tapes” showcases the First family’s ostentatious lifestyle amidst widespread poverty. In one scene, Bongbong could be seen sporting a flashing red bow-tie while partying.

A few days after his inauguration, a party in Malacanang was organized to celebrate Imelda Marcos’s 93rd birthday. An extravagant menu leaked online belied Imee’s claim that a simple merienda was served. The Marcoses are back indeed.

For this year’s effigy, what needed to be highlighted was Bongbong’s seeming disconnect to the realities on the ground, thus the party hat and bow tie .

The dictator’s namesake is sitting on top of a golden chair, adorned with the portraits of his parents. A mock presidential seal is mounted between the plunderous first couple, with an image of a crab clinching moneybags on both pincers. Gold and red balloons were placed at the sides of the chair, Marcos oblivious to the economic figures printed on them. On his lap are moneybags signifying ill-gotten wealth.

Right in front of the effigy is a table with the flags of the U.S.A. and China, the two major superpowers vying for supremacy in Asia. The Philippines lies on the plate, as if ready to be consumed by the party boy. Whose interest will Marcos Jr. serve? The US? China? Or both?

The whole process of creating the effigy took one week, from July 18 to 25. Volunteers from different people’s organizations participated in its construction. Up until the wee hours of July 25, finishing touches were being added.

Towards the end of the People’s SONA program along Tandang Sora and Commonwealth Avenue, rain started to pour. But this did not dampen the spirit of the people. The golden chair was toppled and the paper mache figure was destroyed by the indignant crowd, a symbolic end to the most corrupt and plunderous dynasty in Philippine history.

Perhaps a glimpse of what lies ahead in the years to come. (RTS, RVO)

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By JD FLORES
Bulatlat.com

Katips is riding on a big push after winning FAMAS Best Picture to go head to head with the Marcos “historical” film Maid in Malacañang both released theatrically on the same date of August 3.

We watched the movie on Thursday night and there were about more than a dozen people on the last full show. Even if it’s that few, there are people in Davao City who watched this film. Even if it’s that few, we noticed before entering the cinema there were five college-age youth ahead of our queue going to the other film. But the screen monitor for that film showed fewer audience.

If one thinks this is a historical film to counter the other film, this is not quite the film to do so. But it does not pretend to be a “historically accurate” film of the Marcos years like its counterpart.

Katips is an adaptation of the award-winning musical launched in 2016, directed also by Attorney Vicente Tañada who appears on both stage and film versions. It focuses on the lives of student activists where they expose Marcos’ propaganda through writing, defied the Marcos dictatorship’s hold to power through rallies and strikes, and evade the state-imposed curfew as they run and blend in the night.

That the youth’s struggles are told through songs reminds us of Les Miserables, and as an adaptation from a stage musical this film is quite challenging to stage and to watch. The staging of the rally in the film’s opening and later a strike scene looked more like a stage production. The camera work was dizzying, jumping from wide shots to close ups, and some angles did not capture the intensity.

There was also a jarring scene as the cast transitioned from working late in UP’s Philippine Collegian that segued into a 70s disco romp complete with fake afro hair and outfits. Such scenes may be effective on the musical stage, but it was an overload on the widescreen.

As a musical, the story is told mostly through songs. One of its narratives revolve on budding romance of four activist couples, with a good song sequence where they interconnect with the lyrics. This is the highlight of the middle act.

But while the romance provides the kilig moments, the agit moments seem to portray activists in stereotypes. Activists here seem to be always angry. They raise their voice discussing world issues and Marcos Sr.’s lust for power. They curse when police disperse and bludgeon them in rallies. They curse when comrades die. One activist is turned into comic relief because of her thick Visayan accent. These scenes do not dispel the notion from people who have biases on activism. If anyone had talked or listened to First Quarter Storm veterans, you never lose your hearing as they never shout their words of conviction.

The movie barely tackles the legacy of Marcos. His name is even rarely mentioned, and is called by his nickname Apo. He becomes more of a symbol in this musical, and is compared to a mountain insurmountable.

There are texts flashing like old news headlines, of policies in the New Society, and a dance number of Metro Aide, a memorable symbol of Marcos’s call for discipline. If this is the movie to counter that other film, it missed such chances, and those texts seem to be intended as eye-openers to be discussed after viewing.

Who then is the enemy in this movie? It is the police who constantly appear to disperse their protests, red-tag them, scare them and brutalize them. They symbolize what Martial Law is. They are the law. The judge. The executioner. Such characterization was embodied well by Mon Confiado, whose eyes and surprising singing voice spew menace.

But what perhaps connects to the viewers are grief and the grim reality of state repression. When some activists were abducted, their torture scenes seem to be lifted straight from testimonies of Martial Law victims. Name every method and it gets shown here. Here, the film becomes art that disturbs those who had lived in the comfort that Martial Law brought peace and order.

That grief was encapsulated with the song “Manhid.” While it symbolizes the numbness of death, and the numbness of loss, the lyrics also evoke that activists are never numb to the pain of a strongman plunging the nation into darkness. Thus, grief turns into courage.

But the film jumps ahead into the present, and somehow fails to show how the activists or the movement figured in People Power. There was one scene, the funeral march for Ninoy Aquino, that was inserted and it seemed that narrative came from nowhere.

The ending scene where the old activists reunite in Bantayog ng mga Bayani was filled with sentimentality, but it raises questions. Have these activists find closure? Where’s the connection with the present, when the old Marcos is buried in Libingan ng mga Bayani and another Marcos has taken the presidency. Isn’t history a continuing one, and not just one being displayed in museum glass pieces of newspaper clips and photos.

Perhaps Katips serves best as an eye-opener, a discussion piece to other movies and documentaries depicting the peoples’ struggles against the dictatorship. Even those who watched Maid in Malacañang can watch this for comparison, and vice versa.

Katips the musical is a sweep of the youth in action in the 1970s, a musical that stokes the emotion of passion, of sacrifice to one’s country. There is an enduring line in the last part that goes back to the insurmountable mountain of Marcos, where youth activists decide to scale other mountains, the fortress of their strength, to topple the tyrant. And that perhaps is the symbol of the struggles of our times. (RVO)

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By RAYMUND B. VILLANUEVA
Kodao Productions / Bulatlat.com

Commission succumbed to red-tagging?

The Komisyon ng Wikang Filipino (KWF) stopped the publication and distribution of five books by well-known writers and academicians, including a book on National Artist for Literature Bienvenido Lumbera.

In a memoramdum dated Thursday, August 9, KWF Commissioner for Programs and Projects Carmelita Abdurahman and Commissioner for Operations and Finance Benjamin Mendillo said the following books contain subversive and anti-government themes:

1. Teatro Politikal Dos by Malou Jacob;
2. Kalatas: Mga Kwentong Bayan at Kwentong Buhay by Rommel B. Rodriguez;
3. Tawid-diwa sa Pananagisag ni Bienvenido Lumbera: Ang Bayan, ang Manunulat, at ang Magasing Sagisag sa Imahinatibong Yugto ng 4. Batas Militar 1975-1979 by Dexter B. Cayanes;
4. May Hadlang ang Umaga by Don Pagusara; and
5. Labas: Mga Palabas sa Labas ng Sentro by Reuel M. Aguila.

The KWF also ordered its officer-in-charge director general to explain to mass media entities, libraries and schools given copies of said books that the commission wishes not to be charged under the Anti-Terrorism Law – Republic Act 11479 – particularly its Section 9 on inciting to commit terrorism.

‘Are they literary critics now?’

Kalatas author and University of the Philippines faculty member Rodriguez denounced the withdrawal of his book’s publication by the KWF and called on fellow writers and artists to defend the arts.

The Komisyon ng Wikang Filipino memorandum banning the publication and distribution of the five new books.

The academic blamed former communications undersecretary Lorraine Badoy and fellow Sonshine Media Network International (SMNI) presenters Jeffry Celis and a certain Frank he said are connected with the National Task Force to End Local Communist Armed Conflict (NTF-ELCAC) for KWF’s decision.

“Let us not allow this cabal to dictate on how we create art! They have no place in free speech! They have no right to prevent our right to create free art!” Rodriguez wrote.

The trio had alleged on their SMNI program “Laban Kasama ang Bayan” last August 9 that the books were instigated by the Communist Party of the Philippines which the KWF, an attached agency of the Office of the President, inadvertently allowed print.

The University of the Philippines Department of Filipino and Philippine Literature also condemned Badoy for red-tagging two of its faculty members who are “highly-regarded writers.”

The Department said that SMNI and the NTF-ELCAC had no right censuring the new books whatever are their themes, coming as it did this month, the country’s Buwan ng Wika – Month of Language. Reposted by

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Imee Marcos, senator and also creative producer of the film Maid in Malacañang, said something about this movie as art that is meant to disturb, to provoke and stir discussions. Well, it did provoke me to laugh at a crucial scene that disturbed the audience.

That scene was near the end part, after the Marcoses had said their goodbyes to their crying servants and staff as they made their escape from Malacañang. After that scene, Imee ordered those servants and staff to shred her mother’s yellow gown to make up yellow headbands so that they can blend with the incoming mob and escape. That scene may have tried to show ingenuity or desperation, but the way it was executed, with slow motion scenes of servants wailing for stripping off a beautiful dress and tying those strips (or Retaso, as that scene chapter was titled), just drew out laughter for its hilarity.

I may be jumping ahead of my review, or I may be showing my bias. But then a review is always a criticism, whether a film is good or bad art. In this case, whether this so called historical film is indeed historical (or hysterical) or, even for the sake of creative recreations of history, does it reveal why things happened and how characters in history evolved.

For that, Maid in Malacañang, is a jumble of melodrama and comedy. But there is never a sense of suspense or tension, as what this film claims to show the real story of the last days of the Marcoses in Malacañang.

What we were shown in the film is a typical Filipino drama, family screaming at each other, then tears, and then a resolution. Most of the screaming is made by Imee, played here by Christine Reyes, who screams at guards and staff, at her siblings, at her mother reluctant to leave by screaming “pinapaligiran tayo ng mga ahas!” (I wonder if this is really how she feels at politicians who have abandoned them in 1986 and crawled back to them again).

There’s also a bit of screaming between Ferdinand and Bongbong, which was also seen in the trailer, the strongman father berating his junior who knows nothing about the nation’s affairs for he spends more time in clubs and parties. It was fun to see Cesar Montano showing his acting chops here with his real son Diego, who tears up saying he may not have the brains but has the heart, and they give each other a hug.

The comedy part is provided by the three maids – the head mistress Lucy (Elizabeth Oropesa), Santa (Karla Estrada) with her Imelda-inspired hairdo, and the loquacious Biday (Beverly Salviejo). In typical fashion of Filipino cinema, maids are there to provide comic relief, as when they make sumbong of a military aide who joined the rebellion, or of Cory playing mahjong during EDSA. There’s also that scene where Santa commands the whole Malacañang staff on their escape plan like a platoon leader with put-downs and insults. The three actresses by the way are Marcos supporters.

But where is the history part as the film suggests? Even if the film inserts historical news footages of Juan Ponce Enrile and the late Fidel Ramos defecting from government, there’s nothing about the snap elections, or the walkout of Comelec tabulators due to manipulated results.

What the film shows is just a family in a crisis moment and how they bond together. It is about a family portrayed like benevolent hacienderos who are caring for their staff, and believe that they are being booted out by ahas because they are probinsyanos (that comes from a line from Cesar).

There is much melodrama in the family in the Palace as the country rages outside, like scenes in All of Us Are Dead, where characters comfort each other.

But according to the book Ferdinand Marcos: Malacañang to Makiki written by Colonel Arturo Aruiza, a military aide to the Marcoses, the last days in Malacañang was filled with chaos. Bags of clothes, boxes of jewelry and money, were all hurriedly brought down from the stairs. Documents being burned that Imee had it stopped as the smoke was triggering her asthma. The film showed nothing like that. Military generals plotting with Marcos on how to stop EDSA were invisible (except for a news footage).

Historian Chris Bouton says history can be viewed by books, museums, archives and also in films. Good historical films for him explore the context of their characters and times, bad historical films “fail to meaningfully engage with their subject matter. Favoring gruesome effects or conventional tropes over exploring the nuances of their subjects.”

There is so much “conventional tropes” in this movie. But what is worse is the film distort facts and deny facts. It did not explain totally why People Power happened. It depicts Filipino protesters barging into Malacañang as torch-wielding angry zombies. It depicts Cory Aquino as a mahjongera who ordered the Marcoses to fly out.

Is this alternate history? No. It is melodrama. It’s the Marcoses using cinema to re-create themselves as family wronged by history. The problem with that is how the audience will take this, given that we have been fed with that soap-opera theme for decades of rich families being wronged. The Marcoses portray themselves as that family. The Marcoses know cinema, their late father made a biopic to help his presidency, the daughter, who is called “darling genius of a girl” in the film, knows what cinema can do.

They portrayed themselves as victims of history. They erase from the audience’s memory the real victims of the Martial Law the late dictator imposed, 70,000 people imprisoned; the 34,000 tortured, and 3,240 killed from 1972 to 1981 as reported by Amnesty International.

Wait, the film is about the yayas, they are in the title. The film’s ending showed the three real yayas as if to depict them as martyrs. Two of them had passed away, drawing gasps and awws. The audience clapped in the end of the film. Were they clapping for the yayas? The yayas who we in our culture are ever loyal and extended family? But the yayas in the film are just props here to provoke that sentimentality. The real star is the M in Malacañang.

I may have laughed at this movie, but I am crying at this state of our nation and the state of such Pinoy films that lull us to dullness, distortions and divisions in our dark times. (RVO)

The post ‘Maid in Malacañang’ is made, manipulated, Marcosian appeared first on Bulatlat.

It’s historically farcical as it is no less lethal that cold-war anti-communist crusade and red tagging trope earned new vigor at present. Our historical moment now is most decadent when the worst elite of the country captured the reigns of the state by corrupting the election mechanisms of formal democracy.

By TOMAS T. TALLEDO
Bulatlat.com

I.

Of late the personnel of NTF-ELCAC worked hard to earn the amount they are paid in the studio of a cult’s Sonshine Media Network International (SMNI) TV program. Their red-tagging task was no brainer as they had similarly done under the reign of Rodrigo Duterte. They regularly bark accusations of “terrorists/communists/enemies of the state” against targeted institutions and persons to earn their keep.

They employed the weapon of mass intimidation latching on the support of those in power and the cooperation of the armed personnel of the State. Yet such intimidating bluster is only inversely related to the temporal fear felt by the citizens. Why, if fear is contagious so is courageous dissent they responded.

The truism that so-called “paper tigers” cannot grasp till now is ‘where there’s oppression, there lies also resistance’.

And the scheme of accusing scholarly works and authors as communist, as danger to the status-quo is not surprising nor novel nor newest new in the Philippine publication history. The propaganda of anti-communism was and is a cottage industry manned and womanned by mediocre minds who can’t qualify as citizens in the Republic of Letters (cf. Francesco Barbaro).

If industry means an “economic activity concerned with the processing of raw materials and manufacture of goods” then red-taggers’ earnings piled up in the shameless manufacture of lies that result to intimidation and shaming. Small wonder the disappearance of government funds of the National Youth Commission (NYC) was flagged and called out by the Commission on Audit (COA). A blatant example cited by COA, such wrongdoing came into the national attention as public scandal.

The minimum amount of P651,999.73 remains unexplained as NYC waltzed with the NTF-ELCAC in their so-called anti-communist campaigns . Yet a far bigger amount of 3-million pesos totaled by COA still not refunded when red-tagger Ronaldo Cardema was with NYC from 2018 to 2021. Red-tagging as a cottage industry liberally rewards unimaginative clerks and churlish handmaidens of the national task force.

II.

The fixation of anti-communism in our society earlier reached its hysterical moment in the so-called Cold War of the 1950s. Expectedly red-tagging of books and authors were not new in Philippine publication history. In 1956 “cold warriors” Jose M. Hernandez and Simeon G. Del Rosario made public their calumny against historian Teodoro Agoncillo’s award winning biography of Andres Bonifacio, The Revolt of the Masses. The notorious duo labored to publish an 84 pages ‘examination’ of Agoncillio’s work asserting its Marxist and therefore communistic filiation. The duo’s invested labor in producing anti-communist tract will likely amuse us since Paralde, Badoy and the NTF-ELCAC factotums now are intellectually lazy by comparison.

The duo labeled their work as “comparative presentation” (p.1) which is mere textual juxtaposition of Agoncillo’s with that of classic Marxists and a number of Filipino progressive authors. They sought to smoke out the “subversive character” out of Agoncillo’s “proletarian literature” (p.2). Hoping to catch, they proclaimed their “right and duty…to clarify and explain our analysis of the [Agoncillo’s] book” (p.3). Red-tagging is a willing act of free association.

Malice was the usual sweet-and-sour serving of red-taggers, they wrote: “we have no evidence that Agoncillo is a member of the Communist Party” (p.3), but as a successful proletarian writer “must appear to be telling the truth even while he is telling a lie. That is the highest mark of efficiency that this type of Marxist propaganda yeomanship can attain” (p.51). In the sly abuse of the conjunction “or” Hernandez and del Rosario casually interchanged Marxism with Communism without keen nuancing, for them “they are always one in principle” (p.28).

The historian’s text was either over read or misread as one who favorably prognosticating revolution in his quote, “I trust that with the data I have included in this book, which I have interpreted, other students of the Revolution will be inspired to carry on where I left of” (Hernandez & del Rosario, p.31; Agoncillo, printer’s copy p.9). Here was a malicious sleight of suspicion with honest to goodness scholarship as some preparatory project for the revolution. Must a historian be accountable when his ideas’ moment of fruition has arrived ? Agoncillo as historian was not at fault when he chanced that “revolutions are the locomotives of history”.

III.

A comprehensive story of post-World War II anti-communism in the Philippines is yet to be constituted. And in writing the history of the period, the active role played by imperialist geopolitical machinations of the United States cannot be underplayed. The politico-ideological seed-bed of Southeast Asian countries was soaked in anti-communist tropes by the various agencies of the American government. The fabricated Cold War discourse that divided the world was actively cultivated to become hegemonic. Societies, peoples, institutions either belong to the so-called “Free World” or the “totalitarian/communist world” and separated by an “Iron Curtain”.

Simeon del Rosario as a cold-warrior singled-out historian Agoncillo to have a subversive agenda, a specific person-of-interest, an example target of anti-communist crusade. Record showed that for over 25 years, del Rosario has been “engaged in countering Communism, nine of that at the South-East Asia Treaty Organization (SEATO) headquarters” (Simeon G. Del Rosario, Commission for Countering the Communist Ideology 1967, backcover). This is saying that salaried job of anti-communism did not start with NTF-ELCAC creation of Rodrigo Duterte, the roots were there then.

There was that wicked either-or partisan choice that eliminated the space for those who wanted to stay unaffiliated. Then writers like Salvador Lopez, Manuel Arguilla, Federico Mangahas, Jose Lansang who scrutinized the reality of the underclasses in the country were viewed as pesky Leftists. Inevitably the critical historian Agoncillo was red tarred-and-feathered as communist enemy of the state.

It’s historically farcical as it is no less lethal that cold-war anti-communist crusade and red tagging trope earned new vigor at present. Our historical moment now is most decadent when the worst elite of the country captured the reigns of the state by corrupting the election mechanisms of formal democracy. The foundational premise of a decent and commodious life will probably crumble under the prospect of a long Hobbesian years. The long years of living precariously are the years we would be living dangerously. And embracing knowledge will be a condition in extremis for “those who wish to give light must endure the burning”.

The post Red tarred-and-feathered: when scholarly texts are haunted in Philippine publishing scene appeared first on Bulatlat.

‘Kamao ang Hugis ng Puso’ alludes to the essence of Doloricon’s life and work, his passion (puso) being always entangled with a cause and struggle (kamao).

By DANIEL ASIDO
Bulatlat.com

MANILA – In remembrance of its former dean, the University College of Fine Arts held an exhibit featuring the works of known social realism visual artist Leonilo “Neil” Ortega Doloricon who passed away last July 16, 2021.

Dubbed the ‘Kamao ang Hugis ng Puso: Neil Doloricon Retrospective,’ the exhibit featuring the life, words, and work of Doloricon at the Arts and Design West Hall, UP Diliman, Quezon City opened on Thursday, September 15.

“‘Kamao ang Hugis ng Puso’ alludes to the essence of Doloricon’s life and work, his passion (puso) being always entangled with a cause and struggle (kamao),” the Concerned Artist o the Philippines (CAP) said.

The said exhibit is also the CFA’s contribution to the 50th Anniversary of Martial Law campaign. Artworks depict the brutal rule of Ferdinand Marcos Sr. for over 20 years, and the present situation of the country. Doloricon’s body of work reflects his lifetime advocacy, “Ang sining ay para sa masa at hindi lang para sa iilan.” (Art is for the masses and not for a few.)

Who is Neil Doloricon?

Doloricon was a distinguished figure among the members of the art community as one of the pioneers of social realism in the Philippines.

He was born on December 1, 1957, in his home province of Surigao del Sur and grew up in Manila where he joined CAP and was named its chairperson emeritus before he died.

The served as dean of the CFA from 1998 to 2001 and was also the former chairman of the Committee on Arts and Humanities at the Commission on Higher Education.

While Doloricon was often associated with CFA, he had a master’s degree in Philippine Studies from the UP Asian Center with a thesis dubbed the “Ang sining protesta at ang kilusang masa: ang istorikong pagsasapalaran, 1983–1988.” in 1994.

One of his most recent works “Hugas Kamay” depicts the government’s handling of the coronavirus pandemic in May 2020 and a tribute to frontliners.

He received many distinctions such as the Gawad para sa Sining Biswal and Thirteen Artists Award (1990), the Guillermo Tolentino Professorial Chair (2014), the Fernando Amorsolo Professorial Chair (1994 and 2011), an artist-in-residence at the Frans Masereel Centrum in Belgium in (2015) and a representative at the Formation of ASEAN Cartoonists’ Association and the 2nd Asian Cartoon Exhibit in Tokyo (1996).

The event is sponsored by the UP Office of Initiatives for Culture and Arts. (RVO)  

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Rebyu ng MartialLaw@50: Alaala at Kasaysayan ng Pagbabalikwas

Ni RONALYN V. OLEA
Bulatlat.com

Pagbati sa Tanggol Kasaysyan at Ibon Foundation!

Ang mga mamamahayag at mga istoryador ay pinagbubuklod ng katotohanan – ang paghahanap, paglalantad at pagtatanggol nito.

Nasusumpungan ng mamamahayag ang katotohanan sa pamamagitan ng aktwal na coverage, pakikipanayam at pananaliksik. Kinikilatis ang mga datos, bineberipika, isinasakonteksto. Tinatawag na kasinungalingan ang kasinungalingan kung kailangan.

May siyentipikong prosesong sinusunod din ang mga istoryador. Madalas ay mas matagal, mas masinsin ngunit ang laging turol ay katotohanan.

Sa gitna ng sistematiko at planadong paghahasik ng kasinungalingan at pambabaluktot ng kasaysayan, nasumpungan natin ang ating mga sarili bilang target ng mga atake. Dinudumog tayo ng mga troll at ipinagtatanggol nila ang pangunahing nagkakalat ng disimpormasyon.

Nais nilang burahin ang mga tala ng pang-aabuso, ang tunay na kalagayan ng magsasaka, manggagawa at iba pang maralita sa panahon ng diumano’y Golden Age.

Kung kaya naman, makabuluhang ambag ang librong ito sa pagtatanggol ng kasaysayan at katotohanan. Tampok na kalakasan ng koleksyong ito ang pagsasadokumento ng paglahok at pakikiisa ng iba’t ibang sektor ng lipunan sa kilusang kontra-Marcos at kilusang pambansa demokratiko. Nakatutuwang malaman, halimbawa, na ang maralitang lungsod ay nagbitbit ng lahat ng rebulto ni Inang Maria para pigilan ang demolisyon, o ang pagtakas ng mga bilanggong pulitikal sa mga kampo ng militar.

Nakakaantig ng damdamin ang mga personal na salaysay ng paglaban sa maligno, ika nga ni Boni Ilagan. Kahanga-hanga ang katatagan ng mga kababaihang ikinulong gaya ni Judy Taguiwalo at Grace Mahinay. Binaybay ni Lualhati Abreu ang pagsibol ng rebolusyonaryong kilusan sa Mindanao at ang salaysay niya’y animo pagpupugay na rinsa lahat ng kanyang nakasama sa pakikipagtuos sa dilim.

Maging ang pagkilos ng panggitnang uri ay naisadokumento sa mga sulatin ni Sr. Mary John Mananzan at Propesor Rolando Simbulan na tumalakay sa ginampanang papel ng mga taong Simbahan. Partikular akong nagkainteres sa mga publikasyong inilabas ng mga taong Simbahan na naging bahagi ng alternative press o mosquito press.

Higit sa lahat, ang koleksyon ay pagkilala rin sa mulat na masang anakpawis, silang kadalasa’y mga walang mukha at mga pangalan sa mga diyaryo. Sa tala ni Ka Judy halimbawa, sinabi niya:

“Pero hindi ko malalagpasan ang diktadura, hindi lamang sa suporta ng aking pamilya, kung hindi, mahigit pa, sa suporta ng masang anak-pawis na naging katuwang, sandigan ko, at iba pang mga aktibista sa panahon ng batas militar.”

Kaya naman, akma ang sanaysay ni Maria Elena Ang na ang People Power ay ang maliliit na anyo ng paglaban ng karaniwang tao.

Higit pang mahalaga ang ambag na ito sa pagpapatuloy ng kilusan para sa tunay na pagbabagong panlipunan. Gaya ng tinuran ni Jose Maria Sison, Carol Araullo at iba pa, nagpalit lamang ng mukha ang mga nasa poder ngunit nanatili ang sistemang mapagsamantala.

Isang hamon ang iniiwan sa ating lahat, lalo na sa mga kabataan: Tuloy ang laban hanggang makamit ang maaliwalas na bukas.

* Binasa sa paglulunsad ng aklat noong Okubre 7, 2022 sa UP Hotel.

The post Pagtatanggol sa katotohanan appeared first on Bulatlat.

By JD FLORES
Bulatlat.com

Come Halloween and Undas, one of the things we do is to watch horror films. As if we are not already scared of unpaid overdue bills, unemployment and the umpteenth time politicians commit blunders as they plunder.

Then there is the Pinoy horror film, the genre that either spooks you or make your eyes roll with familiar spooks of haunted houses, wandering spirits, folklore and cursed objects. It’s just escapist entertainment.

But there’s one rising trend nowadays in horror and thrillers in that it carries with social commentaries. Given how discussing social issues has been giving us fears of red-tagging and online bashing, filmmakers have opted to use the horror and thriller genres to make us confront the social ills and fears.

Here are few movies and series that are doing such feat.

ML

Released 2018. Director: Benedict Mique
Awards: Cinemalaya 2018 for Best Editing; Star Awards 2019 for Best Indie Movie Sound Engineering; Best Actor for Eddie Garcia by Cinemalaya 2018, FAMAS 2019 and Gawad Urian 2019.
Available on YouTube

When Carlo questions the narrative of Martial Law of Marcos being taught in class, his teacher gives them an assignment: find someone who experienced ML and get an interview. Carlo thought he found the right subject, a retired Metrocom chief who is called ‘Colonel’ in his neighborhood. What he thought was the ideal interview that would debunk his teacher becomes a nightmare instead. The colonel, with signs of dementia, believes Carlos is a student activist and proceeds to torture him in his basement. The torture even extends to Carlo’s best pal and his girlfriend who were tricked by the colonel to come to the house.

There is so much torture scenes in this movie — a toenail being pulled, water poured over the head, cigarette burning through skin, foreign objects inserted into genitals and the Russian roulette. Perhaps these scenes convey the excesses of abuse, the horror when one becomes its victim by mistake, by suspicion or by decree.

A line gets repeated here is that Martial Law was ‘necessary’ to stop ‘communists’, first spoken by Carlo and later by the colonel. Carlo chews out this line as information he gets from what he reads. The colonel on the other speaks it as if it is his mantra. That line draws different impact depending on who and how it is said.

The movie tends to be blunt with its message about Martial Law, and it leaves out a clear resolution on the victims on their trauma. But that is perhaps the motive of the film — the pain of ML will scar those who live through its dark horrors.

Midnight In a Perfect World

Released 2020. Director : Dodo Dayao
Awards: Fantasia Film Festival 2021 Special Mention, Gawad Urian 2021 for Best Sound

A mystery engulfs the city where people disappear at night. Four friends ponder on this mystery they call “god’s blackout”, and find out there are safehouses to run into during this instance. But when they encounter this blackout one night, they discover safehouses are not what they think. The characters become trapped between the city’s darkness and a house that oozes eeriness behind locked doors and holes.

The elements of disappearances and safehouses in the film are linked to Martial Law and political repression that continues to this day. Safehouses in real life are places where activists are detained incommunicado, get tortured and at worse, get snuffed out. Perhaps the eerie elements in the safehouses depict the spirits of the dead, or the monsters that commit such torture.

The film is quite ambiguous though. Did the characters survive the blackout? What are these creatures that creep up in the dark? Are they ghosts, aliens or otherworldly beings? Maybe the ambiguity depicts the disconnect in our generation, where the youth are caught with problems from family to drugs, unaware of the social problems that wrap the society in the dark.

Trese

Released 2021
TV series on Netflix

The popular adaptation of the popular Filipino manga links the country’s underworld of corruption and crime to folklore creatures. Combining detective work with supernatural elements, the series introduces the malevolent creatures from our folklore to a broader young audience, and shows what better way for malevolent creatures to destroy our community but to connive with corrupt politicians and cops.

Aswang

Released 2019. Director : Alyx Ayn Arumpac
14 Awards including Best Picture from FAMAS, Gawad Urian; Best documentary in various international film festivals

While government spins the narrative of a successful war on drugs in social media, this documentary takes a sympathetic look on its effects on its victims, people living in squalid communities in Manila. The urban poor talk of aswangs, folkloric creatures that prey at night. But in their communities, the aswang are the police conducting ‘tokhang’ operations in their alleys and streets, spilling blood on pavement and homes as they shoot down people they label as drug suspects who resist arrest (the ‘nanlaban’ excuse).

The documentary offers a human face to the victims, drug users and witnesses of this bloody campaign. The most moving narrative comes from a boy, who hides as his mother has been arrested for drug use, and his friend, Kian, was wrongly killed. The most horrifying part is the discovery of a secret cell behind a book cabinet of a police station where more than ten people were kept cramped in the dark without charges.

This documentary shows real life horror that the poor face day-by-day. Surviving poverty and a government that preys on them. But Aswang offers a glimpse of humanity on the poor who strive to survive brutal wars. (RVO)

The post Pinoy horror as social commentary appeared first on Bulatlat.

Rebyu sa aklat na ‘Sa Aking Pagkadestiyero/In My Exile’ ni Joi Barrios

By MONG PALATINO
Bulatlat.com

Bilang dating migrante, ramdam ko ang kakaibang tipo ng lungkot na pinapahiwatig ng mga linyang ito:

Dito, taglay ko ang pilat na nasa noo ng bawat dayo,
Markado ngunit hindi nakikita,
na parang may tagabulag

O ang pangungulilang kapareha ng pananabik sa manggang kinagisnan:

Kalabisan nga ba
ang manghinayang,
na sa dinami-dami ng manga
na mapagpipilian,
wala ni isang
naaamoy ang tamis,
disin sana, matikman man lang
kaht init at lagkit
ng tag-araw
sa bayang iniibig

Dagdag bigat sa isip ang panunumbat ng sarili sa pagiging malayo sa minamahal, lalo’t ang mapagpasyang laban ay sa bayang iniwanan. Maraming paraan upang itawid ang distansiyang namamagitan subalit sa huli ang agwat ay nananatili. Panandalian at mababaw ang anumang ugnay na hatid ng birtwal na komunikasyon kung kaya’t napakalahaga ang bawat salitang bibigkasin. Natatangi kung nagtataglay ng hangaring lagpas sa sarili ang kabuluhan.

Pamilyar ang mga tula ni Joi Barrios at ang unang tatagos ay mga salitang gumuguhit ang lalim at talas. Saka lamang maaalala ng mambabasang aktibista kung saang rali, porum, at parangal narinig ang tula. Tinanghal sa harap ng madla, binasa upang pumukaw ng ahitasyon, pinalabas sa social media upang maabot ang mas marami.

Ilan ang nakabatid na sinulat pala ang umaapoy na prosa sa kabilang dako ng mundo? Hindi lang husay sa pagsulat kundi ang masinop at marubdob na pagsubaybay sa nangyayari sa lipunan. May hugot sa balita, kumiling sa pulso ng masa, nakaangkla sa tindig ng paglaban. Tila naglaho ang distansiya ng makata sa isang iglap at sa bisa ng ilang linya.

Sa panahong naghasik ng lagim si Rodrigo Duterte, ang boses ng mga peministang makata tulad ni Joi Barrios ay nagpalakas ng loob ng marami. Tinapatan ang lason ng disimpormasyon sa pagsandig sa katotohanan at malikhaing paghabi ng katwiran ng palaban. Habang tumindi ang pasismo, sinabayan ito ng atake sa politika ng Kaliwa. Sa digmaan ng naratibo, ang radikal na panig ni Joi Barrios ay hindi maikakaila:

Malinaw sa amin ang katwiran ng himagsik
At kung ang dahilan ay hindi mo pa rin mabatid,
Hayaang ihiwalay tayo ng guhit
Sa ating pagtindig

At mayroon siyang babala sa mga mandurukot ng alaala na ang layon ay siraan ang Kaliwa:

Siyang namumuhunan sa alaala,
para sa ginhawa at pagtamasa
habang isinusugal ang buhay ng kapwa
na ipinipinta na kulay pula
ay walang ibang inilalantad
kundi ang sariling pagkasalat,
Huwag, huwag na kaming idamay, isama
sa huwad na alaala.

Kung may malisyosong paggamit ng alaala, pinakita rin sa mga tula kung paano ang alaala ay puhunan ng makata upang magpugay sa mga kaibigan, kasama, at mahal sa buhay. Salalayan din ito upang idugtong ang pakikisangkot noon at ngayon sa pamamagitan ng pagkilala sa iba’t ibang ambag ng mga kakilala sa kilusang mapagpalaya. Makapangyarihang sandata ang alaala sa kamay ng makatang ang puso ay para sa paglikha ng bagong kasaysayan. Marami-rami na ang lumisan, at ang ating pighati ay pinalubha ng pandemya, subalit ang mahalaga ay may nagpapatuloy ng pakikibaka. Ang temang ito ay palagiang binabalikan ng makata sa kanyang mga tulang nag-iiwan ng hamon sa kabataang mambabasa.

Tiyak lalawak pa ang bilang ng mambabasa dahil ang mga tula ay may salin sa wikang Ingles bukod sa nailagay na rin ang ilan sa internet. May adbantahe ang pagbasa ng tula sa Filipino at ang salin nito dahil nakukumpara ang pakahulugan sa sariling wika at ang katumbas nito sa Ingles. Sinasalamin pa rin nito ang talino ng makata dahil tumatak sa dalawang bersyon ang palabang mensahe tungkol sa katapangan, pagpanig, at pag-ibig sa kapwa.

Malayo man ay malapit din. Tahanan ang mundo, ang tanaw ay sa lupang sinilangan, ang tula ay para sa pangmatagalang laban.

The post Mga tula ng pagpanig, paglaban, at pag-ibig sa bayan appeared first on Bulatlat.

“Keep pushing, still. Us being silent, this is what they want. Let us deny them of that satisfaction. Push back. Organize. We work better as a team, as a collective.” – Tarantadong Kalbo

By MATTHEW PIRANTE-PEREZ
Bulatlat.com

MANILA – Fellow cartoonists Tarantadong Kalbo, and Cartoonist Zach released new artworks denouncing the murder of artist Benharl Kahil.

Kahil, an artist known for his political commentary, was shot dead in Lebak, Sultan Kudarat over the weekend. He was also a teacher and art coordinator at the Lebak Legislated National High School.

Kevin Eric Raymundo, more popularly known as Tarantadong Kalbo, drew a skeletal hand placing a pencil beside a fountain pen inside a coffin. Zach’s work was a pencil broken into three pieces but sharpened on both ends, like a Hydra effect.

In an online interview with Bulatlat, Raymundo admitted the chilling effect caused by the incident.

“As a cartoonist whose content is political commentary, I am significantly affected by Kahil’s murder. I felt what people refer to as the chilling effect, at least for a brief moment. I couldn’t post anything, or even get myself to browse social media because it was triggering my anxiety,” he said.

??????#StopTheKillings#DefendPressFreedom#ArtistsFightBack pic.twitter.com/JPmEZssRq6

— Tarantadong Kalbo (@KevinKalbo) November 7, 2022

Raymundo became popular with his Tumindig series, which was first released during the height of the pandemic.

Raymundo related that earlier this year, he received a threat during his first book signing. The mall owners were alerted that time, and beefed up the security during the event. He also added he’s taken steps to protect himself from becoming another target but also admitted this is limited to online protection.

“Aside from securing my privacy in all social media platforms, there’s not much I can do when I am out and about. I was briefed before by some folks at Facebook that exposing myself out there, like a personality, gives me a certain layer of protection, but I don’t think that is a guarantee given the recent turn of events so… I don’t know,” he said.

Despite the threat looming in the air, he refuses to back down. “Keep pushing, still. Us being silent, this is what they want. Let us deny them of that satisfaction. Push back. Organize. We work better as a team, as a collective,” he said.

He also advised fellow artists not to hesitate to ask for help. “Reach out to your community. If something happens to me *knocks on wood* use that to amplify out calls. Tuloy ang laban,” Raymundo said.

Cartoonist Zach mentioned that while there is no established link between the death and Kahil’s political stance, he believes the culture of impunity is worsening.

Padayon??#DefendPressFreedom#StopTheKillings pic.twitter.com/lkVXQVM88I

— Cartoonist ZACH (@cartoonistzach) November 7, 2022

Meanwhile, Jonathan de Santos, chairperson of the National Union of Journalists of the Philippines also condemned the murder, “Editorial cartoonists, especially in the age of social media when there is intense competition for the public’s attention and trust, are a powerful force in the assertion of our freedom of expression.”

“The murder of Benharl Kahil is a tragic loss of life and, if found to be related to his cartoons and to the political positions that informed them, is also an assault on that freedom,” de Santos said.

According to the Movement Against Disinformation, Benharl had been red-tagged because of his editorial cartoons, and this again shows how this dangerous practice can easily go from online harassment to offline harm.

“We hope for a quick resolution of this case, justice for Benharl and an end to the culture of impunity in the Philippines,” Movement Against Disinformation said.

Kahil is the first cartoonist and the third critic to be killed under the Marcos Jr. administration, preceded by Percy Lapid, and Renato Blanco.

Bulatlat has reached out to Kahil’s family for a statement but has not received reply as of this writing.

The post Cartoonists carry on amid the chilling effect after Kahil slay appeared first on Bulatlat.