Dumb Question

If you ask a stupid and a dumb question, in the eyes and ears of the one listening, you are stupid and dumb for asking one.  

However, if you don't ask a stupid question, you remain stupid for not having the balls to ask and press for answers, even if in reality, your inquisitiveness thirsts for answers.

So choose your wild. Ikaw ba ang taong ayaw mapahiya dahil iniisip mo na ang iba will think na stupid at impertinente yung mga tanong mo?

Or ikaw yong tao na di bale nang tanga ang tingin ng iba sa iyo ... ang importante lahat ng katanongan mo ay nasagot at wala kang agam-agam or doubts sa mga nangyayari sa paligid mo?

Or ikaw yung taong parang si Kris Aquino na taklesa… hindi iniisip kung ang mga tanong niya ay nakaka-offend… at wala sa lugar? Tanong lang nang tanong, kesehodang may nasasaktan na?

Sa isang collab concert ng SB 19 at BGYO ... nagkita ang  dalawang magkaibigan.

Francis: Ano ang ginagawa mo dito?

Nabigla at medyo na-offend si David sa tanong. Concert ito ... di lang ba tama na siya ay nandoon para manood at mag-enjoy? Alangan namang mag-GOLF?

Feeling ni David parang ini-ismol siya. Siya lang ba ang may karapatang manood ng concert at gulat na gulat siya na nandoon din ang iba? Siya lang ba ang can afford to shell out his hard-earned money para ma-enjoy ang kanyang gabi?

David: Wala lang (Dry niyang sagot)

Francis: Ano bang klaseng sagot yan? Wala lang? Nandito tayo para manood at magenjoy.

(O di ba ... alam niya rin pala ang sagot.) Wala lang ba siyang masabi at iyon ang una niyang naisip? Ginawa lang ba yon for the sake na makabati lang?

Ingat ingat lag mga tol ... lalo na kapag kaharap mo ay sensitive. Either sisirain mo ang gabi mo ... or sisirain mo ang gabi niya.

We Never Changed: We Alwats Choos Thieves As Leaders

It is one of those dreams This time, our time machine brought us to the Praetorium, Jerusalem, 33 AD.

Pontius Pilate, who was pacing back and forth, looking stressed and vaguely bored, addresses a raucous crowd.

Pilate: Alright, alright, settle down! I have a question for you, the esteemed citizens of Judea!

I have two prisoners before me: Jesus of Nazareth, who claims to be the King of the Jews, and Barabbas, a... well, let's just say he's a "businessman" with a penchant for "redistributing wealth."

(The crowd murmurs. A few "Barabbas!" shouts are heard.)

Pilate: Now, according to Roman law, I am allowed to release one prisoner as a gesture of goodwill.

So, tell me, who shall it be? Jesus, the alleged miracle worker, or Barabbas, the... entrepreneur?

(The crowd erupts. A man in the front row, wearing a suspiciously modern-looking "Barabbas for Governor" t-shirt, starts chanting.)

Man in T-shirt: Barabbas! Barabbas!

Pilate: (Sighs) Yes, well, "getting things done" isn't always a good thing, is it? Barabbas has been accused of theft, inciting riots, and... (checks notes) ...tax evasion?

(The crowd cheers louder.)

Pilate: Tax evasion? Really? You're cheering for a tax evader?

Woman in the Crowd: He's just misunderstood! The taxes are too high anyway! He's fighting the system!

Pilate: He's robbing the treasury! How is that "fighting the system"?

Another Man in the Crowd: He's creating jobs! He's giving back to the community! (Whispers) ...in the form of small bribes.

Pilate: (Massaging his temples) This is insane. Jesus, on the other hand, has been accused of... blasphemy? And claiming to be the Messiah?

(A few scattered boos.)

Pilate: So, let me get this straight. You'd rather release a known thief than a man who preaches love, forgiveness, and... (checks notes again) ...free healthcare?

Man in T-shirt: Jesus is an elitist! He's out of touch with the common man! Barabbas understands our struggles!

Pilate: (To himself) I need a vacation.

(He addresses the crowd again, his voice dripping with sarcasm.)

Pilate: Fine! Have it your way! Who do you choose? Jesus or Barabbas?

(The crowd roars in unison.)

Crowd: Barabbas!

Pilate: (Throwing his hands up in the air) So be it! I wash my hands of this!

(He gestures to a Roman soldier.)

Pilate: Release Barabbas! And... (sighs) ...crucify the other one.

(The crowd cheers. The man in the "Barabbas for Governor" t-shirt high-fives his neighbor.)

Pilate: (Muttering as he walks away) Two thousand years from now, they'll still be making the same mistake. I should have invested in hand sanitizer.

(Fade to black. A title card appears: "Philippine Elections, they always choose a thief as their leaders.)

The Gospel According to Robin

Calling literary giants like Shakespeare and Cicero ... Move over and step aside. 

The Senate’s new leading man plays to the cameras with all the intense, budget-thriller energy of a '90s straight-to-Facebook release.

Senator Robin Padilla’s recent 'litanya' on the Senate floor was so theatrical, it felt more like a movie scene than a legislative session ... we wonder the Senate President didn't yell "Lights! Camera! Action!" before he started. 

Our resident action star-turned-legislator has decided that the biggest threat the Filipino people face isn’t inflation or the South China Sea—it’s the people who are "politicking" during a gasoline crisis. 

And he dares to make statements like: "Tandaan ninyo ang mga mukha at huwag nang iboto," Robin thundered, presumably while imagining a slow-motion explosion in the background. 

It was a classic "Protector of the Poor" monologue. He’s the lone hero standing against the "villains" of political ambition.

It’s a touching sentiment, really. 

One can almost hear the melancholic saxophone solo playing as he defends the masses from the evil clutches of ... accountability inquiries. The Great Piattos Defense. 

But the real cinematic climax came when he addressed the investigation into the Vice President’s office. "Ano ba naman ang iniisyu natin sa VP natin... Piattos?" 

There you have it, folks. In the Robin Padilla Cinematic Universe, ₱125 million in confidential funds isn't a constitutional question—it’s just a snack habit. 

Why are we bothering the Vice President about receipts when we could be talking about how good a snack Piattos is and how crunchy it is?

It’s a bold legal strategy: The Junk Food Immunity Clause.

If the evidence is salty and delicious, impeachment must be dismissed!

Then came the pièce de résistance: "Tigilan ninyo ang sobrang daming ambisyon… Wala pa kayong nagagawa para sa bayan na ito at gusto ninyong maging pangulo."

Wait, let’s rewind the tape. Who exactly has been moving around the country with a "working" tour, holding rallies, and being floated for 2028 since, well, 2022? 

Robin seems to have pointed his prop gun at the wrong target.

 He’s telling everyone else to stop dreaming of Malacañang, while his "Leading Lady" in the OVP has been practicing her inaugural wave since the midterms.

It’s like the villain in a movie shouting, "Stop trying to be the hero!" while he’s literally holding the city for ransom.

Robin’s litanya is, quite frankly, a chef d'oeuvre in"Method Legislating.

He’s playing the role of the humble patriot so well that he’s forgotten that the Senate is for debates, not auditions.

He wants us to stop "politicking," but what is a three-minute monologue defending a political ally if not... politicking? 

He wants us to "remember the faces" of those who question the budget, but maybe we should remember the faces of those who think a snack brand is a valid defense for millions in missing funds.

Senator, we love the passion. We love the baritone delivery. But maybe keep the "good vs. evil" scripts for the big screen.

In the real world, "ambition" is usually spelled S-A-R-A, and "accountability" isn't something you can just punch your way out of in the third act.

Satire Dream: I Was The Correspondent of A Local YV Station Covering Jesus Last Words

I was in Golgotha in my dream, circa 33 AD. Jesus hangs on the cross, looking less than thrilled. 

A crowd of Roman soldiers and assorted onlookers mill about, mostly bored.

Jesus: (Straining) Father... forgive them... for they know not what they do...

(I was there firsthand ... inexplicably present, and scratching my head and muttering)

Butch John Jason: Uy, wait lang Jesus. Hold up. "They know not what they do?" With all due respect, Lord, but I think you got the wrong crowd.

(Jesus looks down, confused.)

Jesus: What do you mean? They're crucifying me! Surely they don't understand the gravity of their actions!

Butch John Jason (Scoffs) Gravity? Lord, these guys? They're pros! They know exactly what they're doing.

(I pull out a smartphone and scroll through a news feed.)

BJJ: Look, this centurion here? He's got a side hustle selling indulgences. And that guy over there? He's spreading fake news about you being a communist. They even got Pilate on payroll!

Jesus: (Eyes widening) Fake news? Indulgences? Pilate's corrupt? But... but I thought they were just following orders!

BJJ: (Shaking his head) Lord, you're too good for this world. These guys are playing 4D chess with people's lives. They're gaslighting the masses, stealing from the poor, and rewriting history faster than you can say "Resurrection."

(At this point, I showed Jesus a meme.)

BJJ: See? They're even making memes about you! "Jesus: Fake News Victim." Can you believe it?

Jesus: (Sighs) So... they do know what they're doing?

BJJ: Lord, they're practically experts! They've got think tanks, PR firms, and a whole army of trolls dedicated to spreading misinformation. They're not ignorant; they're malicious!

Jesus: (Rubbing his temples) This is... more complicated than I anticipated.

(He pauses, then speaks with newfound resolve.)

Jesus: Okay, new plan. Father... forgive them... because they know exactly what they're doing, and they're doing it anyway. And maybe, just maybe, send a lightning bolt to their social media accounts. Amen.

(Hearing that, I was nodding approvingly.)

BJJ: Now that's the Jesus I know! Laban!

(The Roman soldiers, completely oblivious, continue hammering nails. They didn't even know I was starting a Facebook live stream.)

BJJ: Guys, you won't believe what's happening up here. If you won't believe it ... check it out yourself!

Owning A St. Longinus Paso - A Story of Mishaps and Missteps

So, I thought owning a paso or a lifesize statue intended for a Good Friday procession would be all solemn reverence and pious reflection.

Turns out, it's more like adopting a very large, very dramatic, and surprisingly high-maintenance toddler made of wood.

It all started with the "Selection of Subject and Iconography."

I envisioned a stoic Jesus, maybe a bit dusty, but radiating divine forgiveness.

Instead, I ended up with St Longinus, a centurion whose life and conversion we can relate to.

To the uninformed, St Longinus was the centurion who pierced the side of our Lord while hanging on the cross.

He was nearly blind and was healed when the blood and water from Jesus fell into his eyes.

It was he who claimed: "Indeed, this was the son of God." (Mark 15:39.

After the miracle, when he got his eyes restored to 20/20 vision ... he was converted, left the Roman army, and became a monk.

There, he was arrested and martyred because he refused to renounce his faith; his teeth were forced out, and his tongue was cut off.

But miracle of miracles, even though his tongue was cut off, he managed to speak clearly and managed to destroy some idols in the presence of the governor.

The governor, who was made blind by the demons that came from the idols, had his sight restored when St. Longinus was beheaded because his blood came in contact with the governor's eyes.

Back to our topic ... my only problem with our statue was that his mournful expression looked suspiciously like he'd just stubbed his feet with his spear instead of Jesus' side.

The person who sculpted the statue (though he sounded defensive) assured me it was not mournful.

He said it was more of "anguish," but I swear I saw St Longinus roll his eyes when he said that.

What more if I dare say point-blank that the statue's eyes are squinting -strabismus to some ... cross-eyed to others. Naawa na nga ako sa kanya at hindi ko na sinabi.

Then came the "Budget and Acquisition." Let's say my dreams of buying more exotic fruit trees in our orchard have been replaced by the stark reality of "Caro/Karosa Expenses ... and don't forget the statue expenses."

I knew the carriage was important, but I wasn't prepared for the sheer artistry (and cost) of it all.

My carpenters, who were doubling as the architect and electrician, Michael and Alfred, did have a blanket authority on everything ... I was worried about their utter and complete disregard for right angles, but they assured me their creation was "divinely inspired."

And the electricity! Oh, the electricity! I wanted subtle, ethereal lighting.

Michael, however, installed enough wattage to power a small city. 'The brighter the better.

Alfred and Franz agreed without hesitation.

He claimed it was "to illuminate the centurion's pain and ambivalence (he pierced Jesus remember ... but he regretted doing it) for all to see!"

I suspect it was to blind the competition.

Then we have to commission a camarera who will decorate and maintain the pasos (religious images) and carrozas (floats),

My daughter-in-law Shyla, volunteered for the job; I readily accepted it for sheer lack of budget. Tipid tips baga.

I know her. When she put her heart into it ... she delivers. Bravo Shy!

And you know Michael, he is a Jack of all Trades... he wants to dip his feet in the perplexing world of camarista. Can I stop him? I can't.

But in fairness to them, their tandem and collab showed promise. Purrfect.

"Vesting and Design" was another adventure.

Forget haute couture; this is holy couture. My St Longinus now sports a crested helmet, specialized armor, a decorated belt, and a red or crimson cloak that looked so heavy.

I'm convinced Enrike, my designer, had put that one on purpose - to get that much-needed oomph to distract the somber mood of the procession while everybody was reciting the rosary.

Don't even get me started. The cloak was so long, it doubled as a tripping hazard for Franz, David, and Bonjo - our costaleros (the teenage volunteers who pushed and pulled the carroza).

Which brings me to "Logistics and Manpower." Finding skilled sculptors was easy compared to finding costaleros willing to risk their spines for my slightly-off-kilter paso.

I ended up bribing all of them with promises of a free tuna sandwich, a bottle of coke and my absolution.

And now, the grand finale: "Maintenance and Tradition." Turns out, owning a paso isn't a one-day-a-year gig.

It's a year-round commitment to dusting, polishing, and praying that Michael and Alfred's "divinely inspired" carriage doesn't collapse mid-procession.

So, as Good Friday approaches, I stand before my St. Longinus, and a mix of pride and sheer terror swirls around my head.

Will the carriage hold? Will the lights short-circuit? Will the costaleros revolt? Will St Longinus' head fall off when passing deep potholes in the road? Only time will tell.

But one thing's for sure: this Holy Week, I'll be praying harder than ever before.

Not just for forgiveness, but for a good chiropractor to attend to my back pains and muscle aches.

And maybe, just maybe, I can concentrate on and buy more Hibiscus varieties to brighten and encourage the mangoes ... the mangosteen, the rambutan, the lanzones of the world to finally flower and bear abundant fruits next month.

They need to make a good income.

I know Michael will demand a change of costume, again, and he is already hinting at his extravagant plans.

He thinks St Longinus will need a more elaborate costume, something not seen in Ten Commandments or Jes

Politicians And The Holy Week

 

Fasten your seatbelt, folks, because it's that time of year again - a time for It's Showtime! 

The time when our esteemed Filipino politicians, fresh from their taxpayer-funded vacations (ahem, "official business"), emerge from their air-conditioned bunkers to grace us with their presence during Holy Week.

Ah, Good Friday. 

A day of solemn reflection, of contemplating sacrifice, of... spotting which politician is wearing the most expensive barong tagalog at the Visita Iglesia.

You see them, piously clutching their rosaries (probably blessed by a cardinal they flew in on a private jet), their faces etched with what might be remorse, or could just be indigestion from the lavish Lenten buffet they had after posing for photos with the poor.

Uso pa ba ang fasting sa kanila ... oo nga ... iwas karne muna sila at mag-isda na lang, but what do you in their tables - lobsters, Japanese snow crabs, king salmon, bluefin tuna, and king crabs.

Maundy Thursday? That's when they really shine! 

Remember Jesus washing the feet of his disciples?

Our politicians take that lesson to heart... by having their bodyguards wash their feet after a long day of shaking hands with the commoners (while discreetly checking their Rolexes, of course).

And the question on everyone's mind: do we see genuine repentance in their eyes? 

Do we witness a profound transformation, a shedding of their corrupt skin like a molting snake? 

Well, let's just say the only thing they're shedding is their campaign slogans from the last election.

The truth is, for many of our politicians, Holy Week is just another photo op, another chance to remind the masses that they, too, are "devout" and "one of us." 

It's a carefully choreographed performance, designed to distract from the fact that they'll be back to their old tricks the moment Easter Sunday rolls around.

After all, why let a little thing like the suffering of Christ interfere with a good, old-fashioned kickback scheme? 

Why examine your conscience when you can examine your Swiss bank account instead?

So, have we become desensitized? Perhaps. 

But maybe, just maybe, we're starting to see through the charade. 

Maybe we're starting to realize that true repentance isn't about wearing a somber face for a week, but about living a life of integrity, honesty, and service to the people.

But hey, who am I kidding? Pass the kakanin, please. 

It's a long weekend, after all. 

And besides, the next election is just around the corner. Time to start polishing those halos!

Miyerkules Santo Digital Age

Get ready, ladies and gentlemen: Let’s explore the dark side of Spy Wednesday, or Miyerkules Santo: Ang Araw ng Pagtataksil (The Day of Betrayal), as we call it in the Philippines.

You know, that day when Judas, the OG frenemy, sold out Jesus for the price of thirty bucks (inflation, people!).

We thought all the while that betrayal, a double-crosser, a snake, and a rat were so 2026-ish ... we can even trace thi
Well, Judas isn't the only traitor in the history books. We Filipinos, with our telenovela-level drama, know a thing or tws phenomenon even in the year of our Lord.
o about betrayal, especially when it comes to politics.

It's practically our national sport, right after basketball and complaining about traffic.

Ah yes, Miyerkules Santo—that sacred midweek plot twist where betrayal gets its own holiday special.

Not Christmas, not Easter Sunday, but that juicy, uncomfortable episode in the middle where someone whispers, “Magkano ba talaga?” and suddenly loyalty has a price tag.

Judas walked so modern traitors could run—preferably into a press conference.

Let’s be honest: if Judas were Filipino today, he wouldn’t need 30 pieces of silver.

He’d accept a consultancy contract, a vague “advisory role,” and maybe a ribbon-cutting ceremony in his honor.

“Hindi po ito pagtataksil,” he’d say, adjusting his barong. “Strategic realignment lang po.”

And really, can we blame him? In a country where betrayal comes in family size, barkada bundle, and government-issued packaging, Judas is just the prototype.

The beta version. We’ve upgraded betrayal into an art form—complete with sound effects, background music, and a tearful monologue.

Take the modern Pinoy traitor archetype:

First, there’s the Political Chameleon. Campaign season: “Para sa bayan!” After elections: “Para sa budget.”

They switch sides faster than a jeepney swerves to pick up a passenger who didn’t even wave.

Loyalty? Optional. Position? Permanent goal.

Then there’s the Family Plot Twist. The kind where you raise someone with love, sacrifice, and giving him unlimited rice, only for them to grow up and say, “Ma, Pa, wala kayong ambag sa buhay ko.”

Ah, yes. The Judas Deluxe Edition. No silver needed—just Wi-Fi and audacity.

And let’s not forget the Keyboard Makabayan. Brave online, mysterious offline.

When it comes to the West Philippine Sea, they suddenly develop a PhD in “Alternative Facts.”

“Hindi naman atin ’yan,” they type confidently, as if geography is a matter of opinion and not, you know… maps.

It’s betrayal with a Wi-Fi signal—fast, loud, and completely detached from reality.

Of course, betrayal in the Filipino context isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s subtle.

It’s the friend who leaks your secrets “by accident.” The coworker who smiles at you but forwards your mistakes to the boss with bullet points. The relative who says, “Concern lang ako,” right before ruining your reputation at the reunion.

Spy Wednesday, then, isn’t just about Judas. It’s about all the little betrayals we’ve normalized.

The everyday sellouts. The casual disloyalties. The moments we choose convenience over conviction.

But here’s the twist ending: unlike Judas, most modern traitors don’t even feel guilty.

No dramatic remorse, no returning the silver, no existential crisis. Just a press release, a denial, and maybe a sponsored post.

“Miyerkules Santo: Ang Araw ng Pagtataksil.”

Or in today’s terms: just another Wednesday