AFTER THE Holy Week, I wanted to go back to my series of answering random questions that reveal more my personality.
I started that column series with the idea of collating them for a potential lover.
I mean, what better self-introduction than a book that says, “Well, this is me.”
The potential lover may opt to know me little by little, spending time on dates, et cetera.
But if he wants a crash course on The PSN, the random question series would be a good start.
In a sense, it’s preparing the way.
Like I’m preparing the way now for something for you in my column until the end of April.
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The reason why I want to go back to writing about my selfish self is because I find myself interesting, and there’s a real joy in that.
The COVID-19 plague is zapping the energy out of me.
I’m just staying home.
Trying to be safe.
Trying to be an online support for people who are anxious, misinformed, panicking, and hysterical.
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There’s nothing much I can say that the news hasn’t been saying.
So, I can’t understand why every nincompoop needs to add their egotistical voice to what’s already common knowledge.
I’m staying with my message: handwashing, social distancing, keeping throat moist, and Vitamin C.
Forget banana, forget green tea, forget lemon and ginger.
Eat healthy, idiots!
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But then, I also react to things I read online.
Social media is a bitch, I can tell you that.
People are either stupid, or coping with their stupidity.
Ignorant, or just zealous with their ignorance.
This meme culture is meme stupid.
And stupidity will kill these people.
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No doubt I have grown to be a cynic since this coronavirus pandemic began.
Or, at the latest, when I saw how incompetent governments are in dealing with the unknown enemy.
I see politicians positioning, and I ask, what could they have done better?
My friends sing praises to billionaires and philanthropists giving assistance at this time, and I feel “meh”.
If they’re so rich and good-hearted, I ask, why didn’t they fund research about preventing epidemics after Ebola, SARS, and those bird and swine flus?
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The celebration of nurses and healthcare workers?
That felt good. For about a week.
And then, you realize the nurses are sent to the warfront without enough protective personal equipment.
“It would be sweet if, and when, they die as heroes for others.”
Well, f*ck that!
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And then, there’s putting God to test.
The religious zealots declare, “I am vaccinated by the precious blood of Jesus Christ. No coronavirus can touch me!”
Ah, hello?
If you don’t wash your hands, and do not keep physical distancing, you can die.
And Jesus will tell you, “You, stupid c*nt!”
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This leads me to our panic prayers.
Our hysterical religiosity in times of public hysteria.
Honestly, I’m not really inspired to write, except about my selfish self.
But I have something in my arsenal that I can use for my column while I’m still trying to get over my depression about this sad and tragic state of our most basic survival.
So, for the next five or six outings of My Life As Art, I’ll be serializing my story “Father Olan, God, and the Rain”.
In English translation by Celia F. Parcon, a retired UPV professor.
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“Father Olan…” is in high school textbooks as representative regional literature from Western Visayas.
My Filipino translation (from the 2013 first prize Palanca award-winning Hiligaynon original) was serialized here in November last year.
Well, just because we are praying to God (and acting holier than usual) to end this pandemic, I thought it best to share the story again.
To help our faith.
And our understanding of how God works in the time of pandemia.
Prof. Celia Parcon has done an excellent job translating my story.
Let’s celebrate her translation starting this Friday. (500tinaga@gmail.com/PN)
