On FullyRaw Kristina

FullyRaw Kristina can be annoying and overly positive at times. Her brand of veganism can indeed sometimes lack inclusivity towards those with lesser financial capabilities. And I must admit that, to this day, I am bothered by her erstwhile association with John Rose and her Iridology bullshit in addition to her refusal to use her platform to support the #blacklivesmatter movement or in vocal opposition to Donald Trump. HOWEVER, I firmly refuse to believe she is a White supremacist anti-Semite.

For starters, Kristina Carrillo-Bucaram isn't White. Her heritage is indigenous South American and Middle-Eastern. She is half-Ecuadorian and half-Lebanese, making her partly Semitic. She has even referenced her Arab heritage time and time again on her channel. She has also addressed, over a year ago, her initial association with John Rose and has apologised for it, in addition to some of her other misgivings. Yes, Kristina is not perfect. She is far from it. She panders to the moneyed and her brand of veganism is not the most widely accessible. At best, she is a rich snob with a proclivity for toxic positivity but she is NOT a racist, anti-Semitic, White supremacist Holocaust denier as she has been painted to be by many other vegan influencers. She is absolutely not my favourite but I strongly refuse to believe that she is an evil person.

On Being a Privileged Left-Leaner

This is a response to someone who told me I didn't have any credibility to talk critically about big-corp capitalism and supply-side economics because I went to private school and drive a car. Yes, it's a rant.

Of course I'm aware of my privilege. I'm aware that it has given me so much leverage in life that others who do not have it would otherwise have starved to death eleven years ago. I am angry. Not because I didn't suffer. Who the f* wants to suffer? I'm angry that there are countless people who work sixteen times harder than I do and yet don't even have one-sixteenth of the comforts I enjoy or were ever afforded any of the opportunities I've received and subsequently flushed down the drain.

Yes, I admit I am privileged but should I really be treated dismissively in a conversation about social justice simply because you saw me driving a car? Do I not have the right to be angry about social inequity just because I went to private school?

You may be tan but check your bum in the mirror! It's probably so white you couldn't even tell the difference if someone shone a torch on it. Your genetic lottery draw is privilege in itself. And, oh, the fact that you, a foreigner, are even here, on an Island in Southeast Asia, 6,000 nautical miles from home: Privilege. Unless you can prove you rowed yourself through the Pacific Ocean all the way from California on a dingy you built yourself using timber you felled from from a hostile jungle, you are definitely privileged. So don't be dissy telling me I can't be genuinely on-board with the green cause just because of my ride and my level of education.

And, by the way, not to denigrate him in any way, but your hero Karl Marx was born to wealthy wine producers and went to private school. Smoke on your pipe and put that in!

No Joke: A few thoughts on 'Joker'

After seeing Heath Ledger's Joker in Christopher Nolan's The Dark Knight, I still had to take time to re-watch 1989's Batman directed by Tim Burton where Jack Nicholson played DC's iconic evil clown. While Heath was certainly much better than Jack, the question took a review and a mental list of pros and cons to gain an answer. Joaquin's performance, however, did not even warrant a question. The 44-year-old vegan Puertorriqueño definitely takes the clown crown. This set of thoughts, however, doesn’t center on his performance. We already know he is going to bag that Academy Award, anyway. This set of musings is a verbal representation of the film itself and the things it has done to my head.

Initially, it almost felt like another revisionist re-imagining of a villain but it was not. In a myriad of distorting spectacles and lenses, Joker offers a microscope, an x-ray and a sonogram all at the same time, giving us a deep view into the abysmal psyche of the DC Multiverse’s most complex, twisted and violent characters. It made the monkey-mutilating, bird-ripping, old-lady-murdering green-skinned witch Elphaba from Gregory Maguire’s Wicked suddenly seem even amiable.

Joker did not play around with positivity. It did not pander to the “other side” perspective presented in revisionist trends that try to put the good spotlight on characters that were otherwise villains in their original incarnations (e.g. Maleficent, Wicked, Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister). Joker does not provide a romantic explanation for the character’s behaviour and neither does it attempt to exonerate him. It shows us exactly why he is the way he is. It shows how our vicious socio-economic environment is the perfect breeding ground for a violent cycle of oppression and retaliation. It also shows how utterly important it is to address mental health issues at their budding stages because, as many may refuse to accept in today’s age of medical advancement, there really does exist a point of no f'ng return that not even the teachings and prescribed methods of history’s most influential scientists, sages and prophets could reverse — at least not in one lifetime.

Joker is a masterpiece in cinematography, screenplay, acting and direction. Yes, it’s a masterpiece of a film, but I have beef with it. It hits very sensitive visceral spots and yet does not attempt to draw out a specific response from its wanting audience. It rather encourages ambivalence which can be deeply unsettling for those of us who have known the character for quite a while and had made the decision to despise him long ago. It would have been easier, too, to decide to love the Joker if that were the film's intention. But, no. Unlike revisionist films and literature where there is a clear courting of audience sympathy, and unlike plain origin story prequels like Hannibal Rising where the tone employed is matter-of-fact, Joker is a hybrid where the viewer is left to vacillate whether they would sympathise, empathise or subdue their emotional responses in favour of a logical and rational conclusion — a decision to say something along the lines “the film shows us how terrorists are made; the Joker is a terrorist; and while there is a backstory to the violent proclivities of every terrorist, it is not an excuse.”

And yet even with the response choices the film presents to us, there is no clear line that separates them. It’s like blots of ink on a plate. They begin as distinct colours and gradually mix on the fringes. Move the plate too much and you end up with a single hue. A combination of sympathy, empathy and the logical rejection of any excuse for violence, maybe? Perhaps this is the kind of response it has drawn from me — a person suffering from clinical mental issues — but I’m not entirely certain yet. The colours have not fully decided what they are and what single hue they ultimately want to reveal themselves as.

Murder

Plastic rubbish picked from the coast of Danao, Panglao, Bohol, Philippines

Here's a thought. Killing humans is against the law, right? We're the most heavily protected species on this planet. The reason why international civil aviation law has made it a criminal offence to remove life vests from aircrafts is because in doing so one is potentially depriving a human being of the possibility of survival. Basically, stealing a life vest is an indirect act of murder. It's a criminal offence as a preventive measure and it makes perfect sense that violators get heavily fined or jailed.

In the same line of thinking, littering non-biodegradable rubbish is also an act of murder towards protected species -- especially marine animals. This has been proven time and time again. Many beached dead rays, sharks, cetaceans and turtles have been found to have died from plastic ingestion. So the indiscriminate disposal of plastic waste is essentially as much an act of murder towards these protected creatures as taking that yellow packet from under your seat is towards H.sapiens. Why don't we then make littering a serious criminal offence?

Legislative efforts to ban single-use disposable plastic bags, straws, stirrers and cutlery could be coupled with laws increasing the criminal weight of the indiscriminate littering of plastics, no matter how big or small -- whether it's a restaurant allowing a fallen dumpster to lay unattended, a hospital dumping used syringes onto a parking lot near the coast, a factory using a nearby ravine as an open bin for disposable hair nets or an individual chucking a cigarette onto a sewer vent. We could even go punitive on corporations, too. Fine Coca Cola for every Dasani bottle on the street. Fine Nestle for every Nescafe sachet retrieved from the ocean.

We can't just wait for corporations (and consumers) to make changes to their game. We have to make the field very, very difficult to play on.

On Proliferating the Plant-Based Lifestyle as a Way to Taper the Climate Crisis

In a vegan forum on Facebook that I am part of, a question was recently raised on the best way to proliferate the fact that veganism is a very effective way to mitigate the effects climate change and potentially halt the ongoing severe environmental degradation. My response is that one should strive to be a vocal and visible advocate and example without resorting to violence of any kind (including verbal). In my experience, a sanctimonious evangelical behaviour really pushes people away and causes them to become defensive rather than give them a space to ponder on their choices. This, I've found to be true in advocating for veganism as a viable solution to global quandaries as much as in organised religion. My alternative is to hold conversations with people and present scientific facts from reputable and reliable research sources. As a rule of thumb, I cite real academic publications over health buff and holistic wellness blogs and sites like IFLScience.

When I am asked to speak publicly, I dedicate a large chunk of it to present the vegan lifestyle as one of the best options people can take if they really want to be serious about tapering climate change and I talk about it with joy. I don't want people to think "Oh, here's another vegan a**hole." I do it with kindness because I aim to illicit a warm response. I even share photos of food and easy recipes. Heck, sometimes I even bring food. I lay on the table ideas of consumption reduction with the foresight of paving the way to an eventual transition to a vegan life. I also do not open the discussion with the word "vegan" as I know that it is taboo for a lot of people. I've done lectures where people walked out upon hearing it and I don't like that. I usually use that word towards the end of my talks.

I know that the reason many people find it difficult to make a change is because it's a gargantuan challenge to detach one's self from the familiar. Food is associated with identity, culture and the comfort of family. That's why I don't attack these things. Veganism at present is, unfortunately, associated with an upper middle class lifestyle and social deviance, so I also try to debunk this. For me, everything is about kindly presenting facts and offering solutions to the current deplorable state of things. If I insult people, then I'm almost sure that I've lost the chance to convince them. I think of foul-mouthed evangelical religious people that tell me I am going to hell because of this and that. I don't see a huge difference between them and someone who is pointing a finger at me and telling me that I am responsible for destroying the Earth because of my choices. I know my process is slow but there just is no shortcut.

Maldita, Estricta

Heav'n has no rage, like love to hatred turned,

Nor hell a fury, like a woman scorned.

For millennia, the most feared beings in traditionally patriarchal societies all over the world have been strong angry women. I take as an example the character of Zara, the Moorish queen in the Mourning Bride, a tragedy play written by William Congreve in 1697, about whom the lines of poetry above were written. We might be more familiar with the shortened version, “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” a usual quip when talking about wives taking vengeful measures against cheating husbands. Perhaps these famous lines were written at the time as an homage to vengeful female characters in a plethora of pieces of literature that preceded it -- mostly written by the conventionally dominant half of the human population: men.

In the mythology of the ancient Greeks, there was the vengeful consort of Zeus, Hera, whom historians painted as a character whose life’s sole mission was to exterminate the humans her husband hobnobbed with. In the Hebrew Bible (Old Testament), there was Queen Jezebel, who made it her life’s mission to propagate her religion among the people of Israel. In the Christian Bible (New Testament), there was Herodias, who conspired to behead John the Baptist for repeatedly questioning the morality of her marriage to King Herod. In medieval literature, there are those that fall under the wicked stepmother archetype. Many of which are portrayed in classic Disney princess films. For example: the Queen in Snow White who was consumed by her aspirations to become the world’s most beautiful and Cinderella’s stepmother who would stop at nothing to give her daughters an opportunity at social advancement. Then, beginning in April 2019, we will be seeing more of Game of Thrones’ Queen Cersei who only wants the absolute best for her family.

Are their actions justifiable? The way they were written, it certainly doesn’t seem so. However, it is important to understand that, perhaps with the exception of an illuminated few like George R.R. Martin and the revisionist Gregory Maguire, most authors write with absolute biases, including those who chronicled the texts upon which the world’s most dominant religions are based. It is just sad to note that when it comes to strong female characters, their vitriol is more forceful than usual and the romanticism of evil is of a loftier level than what is normally painted of a male antagonist. Either that or the consequent social perception of female villains is just extra hostile. Perhaps both? I suggest when you are introduced to a relatively well-written antagonist character to look at their motives and ask yourself whether or not you have the proclivity to take similar measures if you were put in their position. If I weren’t a pacifist Quaker and someone who purports to be the messenger of God repeatedly came to my house to admonish me about the moral legitimacy of my marriage -- to a King nonetheless -- I don’t know if I would be adverse to the idea of decapitation.

Let us now take a look at present realities and the heavily patriarchal social construct that sadly still exists. Let us take some examples of how, in the 21st century, the world still bears strong disdain for women. The United States of America elected a foul-mouthed racist with a track record of sexual misconduct over a person who sent a few shady emails. Saudi Arabia jailed an advocate for the abolition of the Kingdom’s law on male guardianship. Israel detained a child for slapping a soldier who barged into her home unwelcome. The Philippines jailed the most vocal critic of its president’s deadly war on the poor. The views on the veracity of their claim to righteousness are vastly divided, but one thing they share in common is a vagina. And this world, as it is, seems to be deathly afraid of that.

In this article’s title are two Spanish loanwords very commonly used in the colloquial form of the Cebuano language to refer to strong women who refuse to be steered around by the whims of the male-dominated society they live in. Maldita, estricta. Whether they are homemakers, teachers, corporate workers, civil servants, entrepreneurs, politicians, single, married or what-have-you, one will more often than not hear a woman described as such if she doesn’t fit the mold of demureness and subservience that society’s box has set for her. It has been used countless times to refer to women in my maternal family, which is dominated by strong women. Case in point: my mother, Liza Migriño Quirog, a brilliant civil servant, has been nicknamed “the Dragon” for her resolute firmness in ensuring that things are done correctly under her watch. She is unwavering and determined -- qualities that are normally seen as admirable in men, even if they do not have amiable personalities. And yet because my mother is of the opposite gender, she is called maldita, estricta.

Of late, mama has come to embrace the dragon title, perhaps reinforced by her admiration for Game of Thrones’ Daenerys Targaryen, and she is no longer bothered by the idea that, behind her back, she is not always positively spoken about. She puts a premium on doing things right rather than people’s opinion of her, with the acknowledgement that she has built a credible name for herself in her line of work. She is a titanium wall to be reckoned with and she does not operate at the mercy of those who do not know any better. She is lucky in that sense, I suppose.

Others are not as fortunate. While many women in public service have taken it upon themselves to adjust to social expectations of agreeability even if it pains them, I know a lot who, like my mother, simply refuse to be fake. They have a strong passion to serve but they refuse to develop a false facade of geniality and it has very sadly proven to be a threat to their work. Pureza Veloso Chatto, a talented public official, the mayor of the Municipality of Balilihan who has, for the last three and a half years, served the town faithfully and ably, has recently become the recipient of a myriad of attacks. Most of them are false accusations on her abilities as a leader, but a large chunk is an assault on her refusal to conform to the norm of being perpetually smiley and nice. Again, a litany which can be summarised as maldita, estricta. While the president of the country enjoys an enduringly forgiving cult-like posse of people who laugh at his foul jokes, ignore his tyranny, and turn a blind eye on his absolutely despicable public behaviour and proven inability to keep his campaign promises, even as the nation’s head of state, this simple and very able town mayor draws flak simply for refusing to smile on a hot day. And yet people say they admire Duterte for being real. What a tragic irony.

My two cents’ worth: Being maldita, estricta, as long as it does not constitute violence, should be embraced if they serve as effective step-ladders for women on their way to carving names for themselves in a heavily patriarchal society. Forget the critics. Kindness is important, but being nice against one’s own will is self-destructive. As long as one operates with decency, dignity and honesty, forced niceties are nothing but frills. You do you, girls!

Happy International Women’s Day to all the maldita, estricta women all over the world who are doing the best to succeed in this unkind and unforgiving world unfairly run by men. I salute you.

The Missing Ingredient

A well-respected family friend shared on her Facebook timeline an article in the Himalayan Times that posits how culture is the missing ingredient in healing cities after disasters. It cites, as an example, how the deadly earthquake in 2015 in Nepal became a sort of unifying force that brought people together to work towards rebuilding what was near and dear. Because what had been damaged were of value not only as structures but as cultural heritage, as marks of identity and as things that were alive.

As a resident of Kathmandu, I can fully attest to this. The city's temples and public squares are true communal social spaces as much as they are places of worship and subjects of awe for wide-eyed foreigners. They don't preserve a temple for the sake of preservation just because it's thousands of years old; they actually use their temples. That's how their sacred edifices remain alive to this day and that's why they rose up fast after they crumbled in the earthquake four years ago. If someone wants to touch an idol, people won't object just because it's over 2,500 years old. If someone wants to wash clothes in the water temple, they're free to do so. If a young couple wants to have an intimate time on the covered steps of the temple of Shiva and Parvati, away from parental scrutiny, the priests might even give their blessing.

A common problem I've noticed in a lot of European, South American, Middle-Eastern and (of course) Filipino "sacred" and "heritage" places is that they like to put what they consider holy inside glass boxes, accessible only to a privileged few. This way, the culture that might once have been built around an icon dies a slow death because people feel removed from it. And it isn't their fault. If it were me, I wouldn't repeatedly impose on myself to be in a place where I couldn't fully express my reverence because I'm not clean enough to touch something.

In Nepal, the story is different. A temple is a place for community even if religion is not strictly organised here as it is in a place like the Philippines. Take the Monkey Temple (Swayambhunath) as an example. Listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site, it is a Tibetan Buddhist temple where monks and practising lay adherents to the faith revolve around a large stupa in meditation. However, it isn't limited to that. Religious Hindus also go there to maintain the structures, sell food and souvenirs, and feed monkeys. Couples go on dates there. Fitness enthusiasts climb its 400+ steep steps in the morning (just like my 80-year-old grandmother did when she came to visit). Astronomy/astrology fans go up there to stargaze on clear sky mid-nights. That's why when part of it was downed during the 2015 earthquake and there was a looming threat that UNESCO, who offered to fix it, would pry it open, the ordinary people of Kathmandu gave a big firm 'no' and decided to pool resources to fix it themselves. It was among the first places of worship in Nepal to recover after falling because the community came together. Because it's something part of them. Because it's an extension of what they know to be home, even if it does not directly represent the faith that they subscribe to.