So-called Dutertards are often accused of drinking the Kool-Aid, the idiomatic expression used to mean the absolute internalization of a doctrine or complete fixation upon something or someone to the point that no possible flaw or fallibility can be attributed to it.
In my previous articles, I have emphasized how crucial it is for us, adults, to be watchful with our own words, especially when we are facing the children. Oftentimes, a lot of adults sometimes tend to forget that the children (who are, by the way, all over in this side of the planet) are sure to imitate from the words to the deeds, even down to the stream of thoughts. They copy everything.
Let us render celebratory tribute to our mother tongue through a prideful exhibition of its virtues in poetry and songs. It is in poetry and songs the rare charm of a language manifests in the excellent use of its distinct idioms. The balitaw is one such literary genre which has journeyed through the ages and survived across the tyrannical terrain of our colonial experience. Its precious virtues are here shown to glorious verbal sculpture in the Cebuano tradition as both a song and as a poetic construct.
What is profoundly expressed by the evacuees is their aspiration to go back home despite the fear that they may have lost everything in the incessant bombings which they could still overhear at night.
That logic woefully remains with us, with or without Martial Law. It’s what allows the drug wars to continue, it’s what places the blame on Kidapawan farmers for getting themselves shot. It’s what derides activists as troublemakers and rallies as provocations.