Halina’t sumamba/ lahat ay may pag asa sa Pop Machine –Eraserheads, Pop Machine
There’s a kind of magic in the air, and it’s not even the Bruce Springsteen kind.
Let’s take it from the top: We are experiencing all sorts of crises in the country. Food, oil, energy, so on and so forth. Everyone knows this, just like everyone knows these handcuffs are made of steel. Just like everyone knows it is virtually impossible to escape the handcuffs, but everyone sticks around anyway to see the trick done right.
At this point, any magician –in this case, the Glorious Gloria– will need something to divert audience attention while she fumbles with the keys to the trick handcuffs.
Fortunately for her, the audience is too busy fucking each other , which then gives the great magician inspiration. In a stroke of brilliance driven straight from the Matrix movies, the magician claims that the root of the crisis is overpopulation. There are no handcuffs. There is, instead, a fucking population.
This is more than just a red herring. Quite possibly, it is some prehistoric pterodactyl made red because of anger. Either way, it works. Escape from the handcuffs will be made possible if the audience cooperates. This will be the part where the magician arrogantly commands “Walang kokontra.”
Enter stage left: the magician’s dazzling assistant, clad in a sequined miniskirt and black pumps (very tasteful). Let’s call her Church, and upon closer inspection we see nothing but botched botox procedures on her chalk-white ancient face. Because she does not agree with the magician’s ways, she takes this chair –see this chair? it’s a chair, isn’t it? not a trick chair either– and promptly smashes it on the magician’s head.
Suddenly we have a Punch and Judy show in our hands. But the audience knows better. We know better than to let church ministers and politicians in our bedrooms, because one of them only knows how to fuck people in the ass and the other prefers us to always be on our knees. And neither uses lube.