Category Archives: Philippine Culture

I’ve been reading the blog Game Journalists are Incompetent F**kwits for the past month or so, and while I haven’t been actively thinking about the issues that stem from bad journalism, I have been noticing some rather disheartening things in my part of the world that have made me place my face in my palm (at least in my head) a couple of times. Some of it has something to do with journalism as well.

Now, disasters are one thing. They are unavoidable acts of nature.

Gullibility, on the other hand? Well, that’s the root of many, many stupid actions and negative emotions that could have otherwise been prevented.

In the past few weeks since the Quake in Japan (and the quake in the Philippines ~ we had one earlier this week), I’ve noticed at least three separate instances of people believing something and reacting poorly towards that something, when some research could have allayed their fears somewhat.

The first instance is a horrible prank made by some anonymous texter (or group of texters) who sent out warnings after news of the reactor in Japan started coming out. The text message relayed to was essentially to stock up on food and stay indoors to avoid radioactive rain. Two noticeable results occurred: Panic buying in some areas happened, and one school, fearing the safety of their charges, canceled school.

The second instance is far more innocuous, but no less distressing. The picture at the top of this post was recently plastered in various areas of a local shopping center. People saw it, posted it on Facebook, and Facebook and Twitter went nuts, with posters condemning the owners of the mall for the sign… which no company, including the shopping center owners, in their right mind would dare post. The signs were a well-orchestrated prank that could potentially lose the company that manages the mall a lot of money and bad publicity… especially because people are gullible.

The last one, which is the main reason I wrote this, is very meta. Carmen Pedrosa wrote yesterday about a report she found done by Harvard, which essentially made it known that people from the Philippines are “first among ‘the world’s most gullible races.’” The reason why this is meta is simple: She links to a post by a blog called The Mosquito Press, where all this information came from, yet does not notice that their FAQ page states that the site is a satirical publication. Cue a bit of competitive journlism from a different news organization calling her out on her faux pas.

The last line on the portion of her article about gullible Filipinos? “We are gullible because we are not able (sic) or do not question information. We prefer to believe what other persons tell us.”

What does this tell us?

 

1. People are gullible, but this can be avoided.

2. The curse of gullibility can be avoided by not having a knee-jerk reaction to everything you take in with your senses.

3. Research, Research, Research.

4. When in doubt, think first.

The funny thing about all this, I suppose, is that when one is so emotionally invested into things, it gets very difficult to have a critical look at what you’re seeing or experiencing.

What does this have specifically to do with games? Not much, unless you’re one of those people who got mindfucked by Metal Gear Solid 2.


In the Philippines, one can say that a person like myself is an anomaly. Case in point: I’m relatively well-off and can afford to buy video games as a luxury item. To be more specific, almost a third of all Filipinos live below the poverty line, but I do not.

There has always been an undercurrent of restlessness in my mind because of that: I know I’m blessed, but I tend to not take advantage of my good fortune as often as would be thought of. Because of this, I try to avoid watching shows that have a tendency to hit close to the heart so that I don’t feel a sense of guilt pervading my everyday life.

I avoided my usual predilection towards watching Philippine variety game shows tonight, and as a result, I’m writing this now to arrange my thoughts in a more orderly manner.

There’s a show called Willing Willie (not the English definition of “willing,” mind you, but a deliberate misspelling of “willing-wili,” an adjective that means “to be amused.”), frontlined by Willie Revillame, which is basically a televised variety show and game show rolled into one whose contestants and participants are part of the lower income brackets.

I normally avoid this show because of my above-mentioned hesitancy towards thinking about my blessings and my state in life. You see, certain segments really tug at the heartstrings because, as an unspoken rule, just about everybody wins in Willing Willie. By simply being there, you get gift packs, and lucky contestants are given money just for participating or performing their talents for the audience. Sometimes, people win because the host simply makes it so (for instance, an old lady gets the chance to participate in an oversized ring-toss game, and Willie will catch the ring in mid-air and place it in a 10,000 peso spike).

How do you make a game where everyone wins amusing? By letting people tell the stories of their lives, and of their situations in life.

The real reason why I wanted to write this today is because the story of this one father really gnawed at my soul. You see, his twin sons (who are nicknamed Pula and Puti, or Red and White) found out that Willing Willie’s future theme for a specific contest segment was to have twins or triplets be part of the contest. They asked to be a part of the show, and their father did everything in his power to make their wish come true.

The twins are actually part of a brood of seven, and the father single-handedly has to raise them, seeing as his wife died some years prior. He can barely afford to buy food for his family, and education for the kids isn’t even an option at this point as they are simply living from day to day, sometimes succeeding, sometimes failing. He had to beg a clothes seller near his house so they would have good clothes to wear to the show, and probably had to skip making fares as a pedicab driver and goods transporter to get the two to the show.

By the end of the family’s tale, just about everyone was in tears, including myself (hell, I’m tearing up while writing this) and after the kids presented their dance, Willie gave them 20,000 pesos just for participating, to which the father, in tears, thanked Willie and the crew and was happy because his kids didn’t have to sift through trash for Christmas.

I won’t tell you about the outcome of the competition they were in because the competition isn’t the point. In fact, I’m not sure this write-up has a point. I know the money won’t last, and no real change comes as a result of a temporary boost in funds, but there is joy and hope and tears and a respite from pain for some people when they become a part of a show like that, and sometimes, I think Christmas is all about forgetting sadness for a short while.

The only thing that Willing Willie does to trump Christmas, I think, is that the joy-giving is somewhat sustainable on a six-day-a-week basis, with advertising revenue and whatnot.

In any event, don’t worry. This isn’t the Christmas post. Just a sharing of thoughts. Cheers.


This is not a geeky post, but I find myself irked enough by the circumstances of this particular event to want to vent and further elaborate on some thoughts I put on Twitter.

This is essentially the tale of three people: an anonymous person, a news reporter, and a Philippine celebrity/socialite/columnist who shall not be named.

In the Philippines, there is a national lottery whose grand prize had recently reached 741,000,000 pesos (a little under 17 million US dollars). The anonymous person mentioned above won that lottery. The reporter wrote an article on the piece for a local newspaper, not knowing that he would wake up the next day in the weirdest way.

You see, the celebrity in this tale, through some strange twist that has yet to be fully explained, mistakenly thought the reporter who sent in the draft to the newspaper was the winner, and tweeted the reporter’s name as the winner to his followers, who then spread the word, allowing a small mistake to snowball into a potentially dangerous situation.

The repercussions of the celebrity’s act are as follows, taken from this write-up by the reporter himself:

What was appalling was the hundreds of people falling for the false information. They even set up a fan page on Facebook encouraging me to spend the money wisely, while not taking seriously the clarifications from the Inquirer Twitter account (the newspaper that the reporter works for) and “Mr. Bigshot socialite” [Last Name Redacted] himself.

 

My mother called me up Tuesday afternoon saying the classmates of my sisters appeared to be convinced that I won the jackpot, no matter how much they denied the information.

With the desperate times as indicated by the surge in petty crimes in the streets, I feared for our safety.

I commute to work from our house and the dangers of public transport are as obvious as the color of the sky. My family, likewise, does the same.

 

I’ve taken precautions to salvage what was left of my identity in my social networking accounts, claiming a copyright infringement on my part for the unauthorized use of my name on the Facebook pages (including the one that’s supporting me for the sake of a level playing field).

There are two added wrinkles to this story.

The first wrinkle is that the celebrity has already apologized for his careless tweet, but responds to certain tweets sent to him at times by adding stupid (in my opinion) hashtags which read somewhat condescendingly towards his detractors or makes fun of the situation at points. For instance, the hashtag #sorrypotaolangnagkakamali loosely translates to “I’m sorry. I’m only human and make mistakes.” A tweet after the apologetic retractions noting that someone has won the jackpot has the hashtag #nagtagonasiya (He’s gone into hiding) which makes it seem as if he’s not sincere or making light of the repercussions of his actions.

In addition to the fear that has crept into the lives of the reporter and his family, I can only imagine the anxiety coursing through the actual winner’s mind. As of yet, no one has come to claim the jackpot.

The second wrinkle to this story is the simple realization that people (including myself at certain times) can be so swayed into believing words crafted with presence of someone whom we respect or idolize (or in the case of Twitter, literally follow) that we have a tendency to not check the facts. For one thing, I don’t think any lottery company would ever divulge the name of a winner for security reasons. Furthermore, very few people probably tried to ask what the celebrity’s source was after reading his tweet.

It’s a cautionary tale, to be sure, and it’s one that reminds me to keep my guard up when faced with the deluge of information available from various sources in this day and age. I certainly hope the celebrity, the celebrity’s source (if one exists), and the people who are still of the belief that the reporter won the jackpot can realize the need for critical thought and examination in this day and age.


There were inmates on my lawn,

Yes there were inmates on my lawn!

But for some reason, now they’re gone.

I know your kind, a guard, dark and deadset

On beating a highscore through the head

and when having too much PvZ

You forgot about the inmates you’re supposed to see

I was an inmate once! (Inmate once!)

But then I stole a key! (Stole a key)

That guard, he just dun goofed (Dun Goofed!)

And now I’m free!

There were inmates on my lawn.

Yes there were inmates on my lawn.

Oh yes they all seem to have gone,

But we’ve recaptured all but one.

—-

Simply put, there is now an op-ed piece on the Philippine Daily Inquirer’s online website about some inmates who escaped from prison because the guard was so caught up playing Plants Versus Zombies that he didn’t notice them take the key.

Of course, the other possible problem here besides the obvious (and highly surprising) negligence would be what the real story is, as “The wall was made higher, additional barbed wire was installed, security measures were tightened…”

Indeed, I’m intrigued to figure out if the zombies inmates escaped or were let out by corrupt prison guards. Either way, that’s some shoddy guarding there.

Sourced from Destructoid


Over on Twitter, I was contemplating creating a Philippine Word of the Week thing for this, my games and geekery blog. Longasc replied with a semi-brilliant, completely ludicrous, but rather funny idea to make some of the words I introduce per week swear words or words describing human anatomy.

Hence the creation of PWN: Philippine Words for Noobs.

Now, my actual language of mastery is English, but I’m proficient enough in the lingo of my native tongue to have enough of an idea of how to best translate the ideas used by the word or phrase in its different contexts.

In any event, let’s take a trip into the amusing side of Philippine Culture and Ideas as we explore one commonly used swear phrase: Putang Ina.

And yes… swearing en masse in multiple languages follows.

(more…)


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