One Fateful Day in 1974
This day—July 10—is my birth day anniversary. It was impossible for the remarkable events that happened to my life on this day in 1974 and onward to all the years during my detention to escape from my remembrances.
This day—July 10—is my birth day anniversary. It was impossible for the remarkable events that happened to my life on this day in 1974 and onward to all the years during my detention to escape from my remembrances.
The existence of any entity in this world is inherently invested with a purpose or function—what we call its reason for being. It’s true to natural things as to human creations. That which ensues from the inventive genius or creative passion of humans belongs to that domain we call Art and properly falls under the concerns of the Humanities. But that is not the subject of this essay.
Nora Aunor, superstar, multi-awarded actress, source of quotable one-liners, received a “people’s award” last Friday from the groups Gabriela and Peace for Life.
But let’s do Eve Ensler one better. I’d like to think that my anger should be reserved for more serious things, especially if I’m going to rant about it in front of all of you. My vagina is angry, and if I tell you the four reasons why, maybe you’ll find that all your vaginas are angry, too.
We have said it in no uncertain terms that President Noynoy Aquino could have been drunk with power. We have surmised that the popular vote he got in the last elections was some kind of an intoxicant—an intoxicant so sweet and powerful it could have had a habit-forming effect on his sensibilities as a State official.