A Fil-AM Prez?
Ever since I got back, I've been receiving lots of email from alot of people. I've been told that alot of the mail i receive is junk mail. Which is, of course, a load of bullshit. How can people I don't know possibly know that I need Viagra? Or that I need a credit card - but fast!? I am convinced that the people behind this have a very well-developed intelligence network, and I am sure that the CIA is behind it somehow.
I mean, just take a look at this letter that I received - my aide says it is an old e-mail that's been circulating around the net for quite some time. I was shocked! This letter hewed verrry closely to a discussion I once had with Johnny who, at the time, advised me to seek American citizenship and just run for President over there. These were the reasons I gave him:
Top ten reasons Why There Couldn't Be a Filipino-American US President:
10. White House not big enough for in-laws and extended relatives. (I also added, cronies, business partners, and mistresses)
9. Not enough parking spaces at White House for 2Honda Civics, Toyota Celica, 1985 Mercedes Benz Diesel, BMW (big mean wife) and MPV (my Pinoy van). (I actually said, not enough parking spaces for my merry bannd of generals, but of course we should expect a little obfuscation from the CIA)
8. Dignitaries generally intimidated by eating with fingers at state dinners. (Just like they are intimidated by delicacies like aso-cena)
7. Too many dining rooms in the White House; where will they put the Last Supper picture? (Come to that, where will they hang that giant picture of me and Meldy stepping out of bamboo in our birthday suits? That picture always gave me an appetite)
6. White house walls not big enough to hold giant wooden spoon and fork. (And walls aren't wide enough for my dialysis machine to pass through)
5. Secret service staff won't respond to "psssst, psssst". (And they don't speak Ilocano either)
4. Secret service staff uncomfortable driving presidential car with rosary hanging on the rear view mirror or the statuette of Santo Nino on the dashboard. (or with a dialysis machine bouncing around in the back seat)
3. No budget allocation to purchase karaoke machines for every White House room. (what the hell is karaoke? Obviously yet another red herring to throw the snoops of the trail)
2. State dinners do not allow "Take Home". (especially when what you want to take home is the prime minister's teenage daughter. Cmon, sweety. Does dakulti ukel ukel mean anything to you?)
AND THE NUMBER ONE REASON:
1. AIR FORCE ONE - Does not allow overweight 'BALIKBAYAN BOXES' (filled with Meldy's shoes. Why the woman insists on travelling around with those shoes is beyond me.)
Ahh. But, speaking of Johnny. I guess I should have taken his advice. How was i to know the dour old sod was planning a coup? After all, when a guy is perverse enough to plan an ambush on himself, you know he's capable of anything.
Read it all.
That wonderful Wikipedia
told me that sycophant, in the original Greek, means slanderer. In modern English, the term has come to mean one who seeks to please people in positions of authority or influence in order to gain power themselves, usually at the cost of pride, principles, and peer respect. You understand of course, that I know all that. I, uhrm, only needed the Wiki to articulate it for me (my mental faculties are not quite yet what they used to be ... it looks like I must speak with Lobsang ... he promised that I would be back to my old self within the week, but I'm not so I'm beginning to think this isn't worth the US$200 million I told Imelda to donate to his monastery ... this is more like some bargain basement shit deal he's ... hey, WAIT A MINUTE ... that bitch must've sold the monk short and blown that money on botox or something).
Anyway, I was talking about sycophants.
I came across this article today (on the web version of the dinky little newspaper that gloated so much when I left the country - I swear I thought that Marine said Paoay! No. Really. I did.): Arroyo friends want impeachment raps junked
Two words: Blue Ladies
- apparently, Cong Dadong's daughter admired me more than she let on back in the day. She is certainly doing a redux (albeit a dumbed down redux) of my administration, down to the hangers-on.
The article says:
In a five-page petition, the President’s supporters said the impeachment complaints should be shelved since, among others, the issue of election fraud in the 2004 election was already “a dead issue.”
Oh, but the dead have an inconvenient way of coming back to life, don't they? Especially when they aren't really dead. The issue of election fraud in 2004 never died because the opposition - as bumbling and stupid as it is - did an excellent job of keeping it fresh in the people's minds. If little Gloria had paid more attention to my administration, she should have learned that it's all about what the mob remembers, what the mob hears and sees, what the mob thinks.
Ah, but like her dear old dad said to me, power is indeed intoxicating. And when you drink as hard as this mini-me wannabe (I hear she tosses back cognac like there's no tomorrow ... which probably accounts for the plebian refreshments they serve at Cabinet meetings - all the money goes to the other
cabinet, the liquor cabinet), it is damnably easy to forget about the mob. I know I made that mistake. And boy, did I pay for it.
“Impeachment is not the appropriate process to question the legitimacy of the incumbent President or to question her victory in the 2004 election. The remedy is an election protest and said remedy already prescribed in July 2004,” they said.
“This means no court or agency or tribunal may still hear and try any case assailing the legitimacy of the election of incumbent President,” they added.
Then what in God's name is impeachment for? An election protest will determine who actually won. An impeachment trial will determine whether a sitting president should be given the boot. They may give the same results, but these are very different things. And in any case, if I'm not too mistaken, cheating in the elections is just one of the complaints.
On further reflection, it seems I may have been unfair to the Blue Ladies
. They were a vacuous bunch of culture-vultures who practically robbed Vigan blind of its precious antiques; they were a ravenous pack of social hangers-on who did nothing but drool over Imelda's jewels unmindful of the mob about to storm the Palace; they were snotty, arrogant, and intellectually blonde. But they were never so stupid as to pretend that they knew the law and the Constitution well enough to criticize people who actually did.
Read it all.
Good God! Someone just informed me that this small person (I have been told that it is no longer considered acceptable to say 'midget
' in polite company) with the disproportionately large mole and the jarringly mannish voice is Cong Dadong's daughter. When I saw her the first time, I thought I recognized her, but the name was all wrong: Arroyo. I suppose you can blame the whole transmigration process for my faculties not quite yet being what they once were. Although, of course, maybe I should have listened more closely to the lama who facilitated my return (thank you Lobsang).
And I have also just learned that that bitch Imelda is still alive, that bastard Imee is a Member of the House of Representatives (they're letting anyone in now, aren't they?), and that people still believe that Bong-bong actually looks like he has Down's. My people. How can you become a truly noble race - Maharlika - when you continue to suffer these fools in your midst?
I needed to keep Imelda around because she knew too much and I couldn't trust her out of my sight. But believe me, when Ninoy bought the farm, I knew who to blame and I regretted getting her that bullet-proof bra. Now that I think about it, it must have been Eddie who convinced me. Fabian - good ole' Fabian - warned me that midget with the oral/phallic obsession and the funny ears would be my downfall.
Imee, I tolerated because she had her father's charisma and my eloquence. I almost forgave her for being a bastard since she seemed to have so much potential. The fact that she had a great rack didn't hurt. She could mesmerize a crowd of young people with her promises and tight t-shirts. I wish we could have done something about that chin, though. It looked like she could open tin cans with the damned thing. Nowadays, however, it seems like she's grown into the chin, and it isn't as annoying as it once was. Or maybe my 11 year old hormones are just going through a phase.
Her utter stupidity, on the other hand, is completely abrasive. What idiot would abandon her very publicly avowed principles at the very last minute and blame mommy? I can, quite possibly, forgive the pragmatic (if Machiavellian) view that 3 minutes of nobility is a poor trade for pork barrel funds, but to dish out such a lame excuse about how her mother asked her not to vote for impeachment for the sake of my being moved to the Libingan ng mga Bayani is just too preposterous for words. For one thing, the Filipino people aren't stupid (well, not all the time anyway). For another, why would I want to be planted in the dirt to become worm food, when I had an airconditioned room (alright, display case), and
As for Bong-bong, ukinanam
, what choice did I have? Think about it. If you were President of a entire damned country, and you can't go after the hooligans who beat your son into a vegetable, how credible would you be? So there had to be a doppleganger to cover up the entire pathetic incident. I only wish that I had paid closer attention to who was actually chosen to take Bong-Bong's place. My son was a handsome young man. His replacement looked like a 'special' ('midget,' 'retard;'
it looks like I'm going to have to relearn half my vocabulary if this goes on) child.
So you see, my beloved countrymen? I really had no choice about tolerating these three morons. What's your
I miss Irene, though.
Read it all.
On my return
I find it exceedingly funny that less than a week after my return, I should be the subject of an erudite writer's journal ( someone told me that it was called a blog, but what an awkward word!).
Less funny is how this Sigaw ng Bayan
seems to want to create a subliminal association between their organization and my mythos ( it would be false modesty to call it otherwise). It would seem that they are gently conditioning the people to accept authoritarianism once more by evoking the symbolism I activated and the rhetoric I used back in the day.
I find this annoying for two reasons: first
, because I think the time for authoritarianism has passed. I made the mistake of not recognizing that moment in history when my model of governance slipped into anachronism, it would be a shame if my beloved country didn't learn from my error.
, I find it personally offensive that people should make such grandiose claims of fighting autocracy when their principal ( or so I have been told. I have much catching up to do) is not exactly a paragon of egalitarianism.
Apparently, things haven't changed that much in this country I love.
Read it all.