de-kinkified

I was lining up for lunch at Tim Hortons yesterday when I noticed an elderly woman, in her late 60s, sitting alone in a corner table seriously devouring a book more than the muffin in front of her.  She put down the book, took a sip of her coffee and wiped her mouth with a napkin.  She stared blankly towards my direction as if visualizing and digesting what she just read.  I peeked at what she was reading:  50 Shades of Grey.

I took a second look to make sure I was not imagining it.  This woman, who is somebody's grandmother, is reading about bondage, ass whopping and kinky sex between a dominant man and a submissive girl in view of a busy lunch crowd.  I mean,  honestly..

I suddenly realized how mainstream being edgy and wild has become nowadays.  Literary porn has apparently reached a wider demographic from what I'm seeing.

The 50 Shades of Grey phenomenon started with a subculture of bourgeois 40-something housewives reading this in their hoity-toity book clubs, and having giddy discussions about S & M and a confused innocent young girl getting her ass spanked by a 28 year old billionaire.

It became such a sensation and even caused wide-spread concern as to who shall play the lead characters in the film adaptation.  Mind you, the book is god-horribly written.  It displays the massive disconnect between what is recognized as literary writing and commercial success in publishing.

Yes, I've read the book.  I read all 3 of them.  And all I can say is that 50 Shades of Grey is a book that is ought to be read and USED in the privacy of your own little red room.  It is a pornographic and masturbatory aid for readers, primarily women who do not necessarily enjoy porn, but who can reap the benefits of reading about it, add a little umph to the bedroom.  It is definitely not a book you take to the train and read like a novel, or in grandmama's case, in full view of strangers in a busy coffee shop.

It's been said that when your shoe-shine man starts sharing stock tips, it's time to sell.  Is it not the same thing when you see a Grandmother reading about fetishes and kinky playrooms filled with red leather furniture, you have to admit that the sub-culture of erotica has lost some of its appeal?  When Grandma starts droning about exotic sex practices, exotic sex practices get de-kinkified.

Last night, a discussion on talk radio zeroed in on the dominant/submissive subculture that seems to be very visible now in Toronto.  A mother called in complaining about his 8 year old boy, asking about their lesbian-couple neighbours whom he saw walking in broad daylight, one with a leather collar on her neck, attached to a leash that the other one was pulling.  Did this just put a fork in your libido?

How much farther out there do you need to go to be out there?

They had us at Hola: A History Lesson

Fernāo Magalhaes was a nerd.  He was the son of the mayor in his native town, and as a boy, he studied map making and navigation.  In his 20’s he joined a Portuguese fleet, engaged in battle and in the process got himself wounded.  As a result, he walked the remainder of his life with a limp. While nursing his injury, he was falsely accused of illegal trading with the Moors and despite his services to Portugal,  Fernāo fell from the grace of the King.

Ferdinand Magellan

He eventually renounced his Portuguese nationality, and then pledged his allegiance and offered his navigational services to Spain, and took the name Ferdinand Magellan.  Because really, what were his other options?

In 1521, Magellan and his fleet of 5 ships came upon the Philippines and claimed all of her 7,107 islands for Mother Spain.  They weren’t really the first foreigners to arrive the archipelago seeing that Indians and Chinese were already trading with the natives, but first to claim to have discovered it.  These Spaniards were just too cheeky for their own good.

Naturally, the natives were greatly impressed with Magellan's circumnavigation project and very much in awe with this bunch of sweaty armor clad mestizos.  They smiled graciously and went for the beeline to be baptized. They gave up their land and proclaimed an unknown crazy man as their King who lived half way across the world.  Because as a people, we bow and say yes to whatever a white looking dude tells us to do. (Note sarcasm here. Actual historians, hold your hate mails.)

We as Filipinos are known for our hospitality, as evidenced by travel books and websites. It must have started here.  We're so hospitable we gave our land away. It would've been crass not to.

Battle of Mactan, 1521

Not everyone took to the Spaniards, though.  A native tribal chief warrior, Lapu-Lapu, was not impressed with the foreigners and refused to be the vassal of Spain.  Magellan and his men wanted to give him a lesson, went after him, but in the end, got their asses resoundingly whopped.

My friend XabiWanKenobi assumed that Magellan died from a disease during transit back to Spain.  This is historically incorrect.  He was killed in battle by the great Lapu-Lapu from Mactan, Cebu.

There is little known fact about the great Philippine hero Lapu-Lapu, which coincidentally is also the name of a type of fish.

Years ago I attended a film workshop by a brilliant Filipino filmmaker with metal plates in his head.  Noel Lim went off topic and discussed his own theory about Magellan and Lapu-Lapu. 

Magellan is peddling ashore one morning and a giant fish jumps out of the water and devours him.  “What the heck was that?” cry his men.  “Lapu-lapu!” a native onlooker answers.

The Spaniards head back to their Motherland and report their commander’s untimely demise.

“Who killed Magellan?” the King asks.  “Lapu-Lapu.”, they say.

“Who is this Lapu-Lapu?”

His men look at each other in silence, contemplating on their beloved leader now reduced to fish shit in the bottom of the ocean. The most loyal in the group speaks up, “Um…err…he was a fierce tribal warrior! Yeah, yeah…that’s right…he was so big and strong!”

Because of Noel’s genius as a writer and filmmaker, I’m sticking to this story as historical fact.  It has more pizazz.

Anyway, the Spaniards came back a few years later, this time bringing with them mean chubby friars and converted everyone into guilt-ridden Christians. They overstayed their welcome for more than 300 years.

That’s how ‘Shit, coño dude!’ came to be.

No Pork on my Fork

“I don’t eat meat. I’m not a carnival.” –Filipina Supermodel Melanie Marquez

If you’re eating and almost snorted out food from your nose when you read that, chances are we could be really good friends.  You’re also most likely Filipino who went to an all-girl Catholic high school with an English teacher so strict the mere mention of her name, you immediately stand or sit up straight from your habitual slouched posture.

Former Miss International Melanie Marquez is a self-confessed Madame Malapropism.  She says the funniest and ridiculous statements with such earnestness and conviction.  Things that make you go, “HUH?!?!” And then laugh out loud.

She was in tears during an interview about her brother who was accused of beating up his then girlfriend, a presidential daughter.  “Don’t judge my brother.  He’s not a book.”

See, the objective is there.  She spontaneously experiments with the English language and transforms it into something complex, wrong yet wonderful for us to hear.

She has always been a punch line of every joke and a favorite water cooler topic every time she appears on live tv.  But she embraces it.  She does not apologize for her lack of linguistic knowledge.  She talks and goes on with so much passion and in the process entertains a huge chunk of her audience anticipating the next ‘Melanism’ that will be quoted and beaten to death.

An unsolicited advice to a young upcoming actress Nikki Valdez:  “Nikki, you’re so talented! You should move to the States! You will sell hotcakes!”

A complaint to a pushy reporter: “Ang dami mong tanong! (You have so many questions!) You’re so questionable!”

Response to her harsh critics: “I won’t stoop down to my level.”

At a talk show after her break-up with Derek Dee, Melanie was asked if she had some words for Derek's mother, whom she partly blamed for the separation: "Oo nga,  pero i-English-in ko para maintindihan niya." (I will say it in English so she'll understand.)   She looked into the camera and, with the
 peremptoriness of royalty, said, "And to you, Mrs Dee, I have 2 
words for you:  Ang labo mo!"  (sorry, non-Tagalog speaking peeps, the humor here is untranslatable)

Non-Filipinos think it’s mean.  That we are snobs for laughing at someone’s disability.  Screw you.  You don’t get it.  We’re not laughing AT her.  Nor are we laughing with her for in her world, she is profoundly articulate.  It’s the absurdity wrapped in a tall beautiful woman with the most fabulous “long-legged” the world has ever seen.

Filipinos are mean to each other that way.  But we all still end up laughing our heads off together in the end.

I end this post with Melanie's acceptance speech after winning the Best Actress Award one year.  "Ito na po ang pinakamaligayang Pasko at Manigong Taon sa inyong lahat!"

(This is undoubtedly my merriest Christmas and a happy new year to you all!)

Nalito. 

(Disoriented much.)

Photo credit: Angel on Fire

The Dying Goat

“ You are a goat that has been separated from the rest of your goat community.  You are lost in the wilderness.  As you stumble through the wilderness, in your goat-like panic, you prick yourself on the thorn of a honey locust.  Don’t let its name fool you: the thorns are evil, five-inch suckers, very nasty.  The puncture wound is deep and, in your best, medically unprofessional assessment, lethal.  You will probably bleed to death, alone out there in the wilderness.  You quickly go through Elisabeth Kubler-Ross’s five stage of grief and come to accept your demise.  Then, in your indefatigable need to express yourself, as a writer of truth, even in the hour of your own inevitable death, you find a well-nubbed twig and dip it in the puddle of our blood.  What are your final words?” ~Jay Kirk

All I wanted was to be happy.  I am sorry.