In the 80’s it was STOVE TOP STUFFING. I would call my mom while Joey called his MOM and things always seemed to work out perfectly. In the 90’s, it was all about the HOT POCKETS. The United Kingdom lent us their hundred-year recipe for the meal of champions, or what they like to call meat pies. Whatever is good for ROBBIE WILLIAMS is good enough for me. But that was in the 90’s and even though they were great TIMES, they had to inevitably come to an end. Then into the new decade/century/millennium. I was no longer a kid and I was old enough to go to war for this country, so I began to eat adult food. That meant things like Double Doubles, Sourdough Jacks, and BALUT.
But as we all know, life has a way of coming full circle. Although I am no longer I kid, I should probably have one pretty soon. I’m not saying I’m having a kid or anything like that, but I will need to find out the delicious after school snacks Gunther (what I will name my kid) will be allowed to eat. And since I will definitely train Gunther into action sports (preferably INLINE), what better way to do that than to look back at some of our old videos?
These things seem ancient especially with the spastic video quality. The audio in this is so off it often times confuses me. And the music. Let me just suggest maybe taking an E pill to enhance your viewing experience. I think I might have been watching a lot of TRAINSPOTTING when I made this video over a decade ago.
It features some of us Walnut and Diamond bar skaters. These were the later years of skateboarding. When most skaters started driving, the importance of their skateboard became less relevant. Others like Brad and David; they kept it real.
* I know it says “WMD” or Weapons of Mass Destruction. Actually that’s a typo and it will take way to long to re-export this video. So WMD it is. And just so you don’t get confused, Fart was the title of our original skateboard movie. When this came out, everyone just referred to it as Fart II instead of its original title.
http://www.vimeo.com/10198159
Posted 15 hours, 26 minutes ago at 1:47 AM. Add a comment
A few of years ago somewhere in the early part of the last decade, my friend and I moved into an apartment smack in the middle of Hollywood. Out of respect for this roommate, I will not disclose his real name or identity just in case he decides to “run for office someday”. So we will just refer to him as J. Mora. Wait a second that might be too obvious. How about Jon M? Forget it. I’ll just call him J-Mo. J-Mo just moved down here from Northern California and I was coming back to L.A. after taking a 1-year hiatus due to an unsuspected and devastating breakup. Although we were both in our early twenties, (energized, excited, curious, bi-curious?) we were both looking for a new start. There before us was a small problem. We lived in Hollywood. The CAHUENGA part of Hollywood.
J-Mo and I felt like outcasts living amidst the epicenter of the Hollywood SHINY shirt club scene. But you see, we didn’t choose to live in Hollywood. Hollywood chose us.
Fortunately for J-Mo and I, we were offered an incredible deal through a friend who had an extra room in her apartment. One room only for the pair of us. For the price of that one room, J-Mo and I were allowed one twin mattress each to be laid out on the floor of this pseudo crack den. Plus we had our own bathroom. Luckily this living situation would BLOSSOM into something amazing.
Every weekend, the “shiny-shirt” people came into town looking so glistened and ready for a fun night. J-Mo and I made the wise decision not to go out on the weekends. Living in close proximity to everything made going out on weeknights more enjoyable. The bars and clubs were less congested and easier to deal with. We didn’t have to pay for overpriced drinks and the music tends to be better. So this here is just the preface of the story I’m about to tell.
On one particular Wednesday night, J-Mo had the itch to go out and chase chicksl. I knew coming home from a long 12-hour day at work that I definitely did not want to go out. Sleeping sounded much more appealing. But J-Mo insisted that we go out despite nothing very special going on. I was just as adamant about staying home. Then came the name-calling and the “pussy bleeding” remarks. I’m not one to take crap from anybody so I thought to myself, “If he really wants to go out, I’ll definitely make it worth his while. But I’ll make it worth my while even more. Nobody tells me that my pussy is bleeding! Especially J-Mo!!!”
So I acquiesce and decide to make the best of it. We decide to go to a new local club down the street that gets pretty poppin. Plus there were always hot chicks that frequent the place. But that wasn’t what I was after. My sole purpose of wing-manning it with J-Mo was to get him laid.
Right when we got in, I already knew that I wasn’t feeling it. I felt so exhausted at this point but I knew that I had to wake up. I had to make the best of it. We headed to the bar to get a couple beers. I just started pounding my drink. Jon looks at me and sees a down face. He asked me above all loud music, “What’s wrong?” I just shook my head as to say, “What the fuck are we doing here? This is so lame”.
Thankfully, I’m Asian and underweight. Due to me pounding my first beer, I was feeling a tad bit energized. So I ordered another beer. Right when I got it, I had the urge to have fun and screw with J-Mo. So I grabbed the beer and poured it all over J-Mo’s head.
• Back in the day, we used to get really wild in the clubs and bars. So much so that big groups of us would have BEER FIGHTS. That means ordering pints of cheap beer and pouring it on one another. Pouring pitchers of Pabst in one’s pants. Spitting an entire shot of Jose Cuervo in someone’s face. Most of the time, bar tenders would laugh. Many of you reading this would call it stupid. I call it a method of escaping one’s past.
Anyways, J-Mo looked so pissed. Usually we do that to each other near the end of the night when everyone is already tossed and don’t care. But I poured it on his head when we were only 15 minutes in. And a 30 minute hair style down the drain. J-Mo looked pretty miserable. He did look pretty bummed but not bummed enough.
That’s when I went on the prowl to find J-Mo some ass. Not just any woman though. A woman with a big enough personality to match J-Mo’s. I scoured the dance floor until I found the right one. Luckily my search didn’t take very long. On the dance floor, I found a nice girl dancing the two-step all by herself. She was about double J-Mo’s size with great accents in her hair. She had a plethora of color: brown, blond, pink, violet. She was amazing. So I simply walk up to her ear and say, “Hey, my friend over there wants to bone you.” She took a quick glance over in J-Mo’s direction and her eyes lit up like she had just won a game of bingo. I wasted no time in introducing them to each other. J-Mo just stared at me with a confused look on his face. I told her to just dance and that she looked cute next to him. I gave them their privacy while I stepped off to the side to have a good laugh.
Maybe 30-minutes later, I was delighted to find her still with J-Mo. Maybe he actually took a liking to her which is great. So I took the liberty to invite her over for some drinks. J-Mo’s blank stare was a look of disbelief. I knew that what I was doing was jacked up, but I couldn’t help but fulfilling my own guilty pleasure: seeing J-Mo hook up with girls that make him feel uncomfortable. And considering he had not tried even once to get out of the situation, I figured he might have liked her. So in my mind, I figured he thought that I was doing something good for him.
On the entire car ride home, J-Mo was absolutely mute. He didn’t say a word. I personally was just looking forward to getting some much needed sleep on my comfortable twin. That and getting J-Mo laid. But I wasn’t going to be a prick. I avoided any uncomfortable silences by asking the girl about her personal life. “Where do you live? Do you get good grades? Would you like to get J-Mo’s work phone number just in case?” You know, the usual.
As we drove up to our apartment building, I could only anticipate what it would be like walking up to the room. Oddly enough though, J-Mo kind of just disappeared. One second he was there, the next he just sort of dissipated in to thin air. It was very NINJA like. The girl was just as perplexed as I was. I told her not to worry though and that he was most likely upstairs taking a leak.
When we got to the apartment though, J-Mo was nowhere to be found. He wasn’t in the bedrooms or the bathroom. I was very confused. I thought this was what he wanted. So I told the girl to sit tight and hold on while I went to find J-Mo. I offered her a delicious BOONES FARM beverage. She chose the “blue” flavor.
I rushed on out of there looking everywhere. The gym, to the parking lot, to the roof. He couldn’t have gone too far. Lastly I checked the laundry room really quick but he wasn’t there either. That was until I heard a little squeak come from it as I walked away. I flipped on the light switch and there he was hiding beneath the folding area. I told him, “Dude what are you doing here? You’ve got company upstairs now go entertain her!”
After a short back and forth of smack talking, J-Mo reluctantly decided to come up. We agreed that we allow her to finish her Boones and then she must leave.
When we got back up to the room, J-Mo’s girl was lying down on the sofa finishing off what was left of the Boones Farm. I was quite surprised she finished the entire thing. She asked J-Mo if she can have something to sleep in. He replied, “No, you have to go. I have an early day tomorrow.” She looked at me for support. I told her, “Don’t worry. He will see you again tomorrow evening.” I told her that J-Mo would hang out with her for a little while until she sobered up. Luckily J-Mo was cool enough to actually do that. So I let them be in the other room while I resorted to my cozy twin floor mattress.
As I lay there, I said a little prayer…
“Dear God, thank you for making tonight a fun and memorable night. And thank you for making me a great friend. Please make J-Mo honor and cherish his new girlfriend.
Amen.
Then out of the blue I heard a weird noise coming from the living room. I abruptly got up to listen to what it was. It sounded as if someone was charging for the bedroom door. All of a sudden, my bedroom door flings open and pops me in the forehead. It was J-Mo’s girl choking and puking a trail of blue vomitace to our bathroom. I poke around the corner to see J-Mo completely passed out on the sofa. I poke my head the other way to see his girl throwing up all over the bathroom floor. I yell at her, “Into the toilet! Into the toilet!”
She only managed to get the few last drops into the bowl. The rest had puddled all over the bathroom floor. I quickly wake J-Mo up to take care of his girl. He responded, “It’s your problem. You brought her over here and you gave her the Boones”.
Sadly, he was right. I quickly scrubbed the carpets before anything could stain. I did it all while dry heaving in my mouth. It was so sick. The bathroom floor was even worse. The nasty aroma of puke and Boones was so nauseating. I got a really bad headache from cleaning her puke. J-Mo just watched me with joy and she continued to watch him. It was a miserable moments.
I finally got the entire puke trail clean and I told her that she had to go. My head was killing me and I wanted some peace and quiet. She offered me two Tylenol tablets, which I graciously accepted. I gulped them both down with water and headed straight to bed. J-Mo called her a cab and waited outside until she left.
While lying in bed, I replayed all the events back in my head. I was trying to calculate whether or not my maliciousness was worth the puke. What was really odd was that instead of completely passing out, I couldn’t get my mind off what had just happened. I was also feeling really anxious and excited about something even though there was nothing to get excited about. It was very weird. So I concentrated on sleeping because I did have an early morning.
Maybe about 30 minutes later, J-Mo walks in chuckling to himself. I pretend to be asleep but he talks anyway.
J-Mo
You awake. Dude, I know you’re awake.
I didn’t say a word. The last thing I wanted to do was talk about his girl.
J-Mo
Yo, you awake?
I replied with a simple and quiet…
Mike
What?
J-Mo
She just told me about the Tylenol she gave to you.
MIKE
Because I got a headache from cleaning your girlfriend’s puke.
J-Mo
Yeah I know. They aren’t Tylenol.
My ears perked up.
MIKE
What?
J-Mo
You took speed bro.
I roll over in my bed while my eyes suddenly widen.
MIKE
Fuuuuuuuccccckkkkkkk
J-Mo
And she wants you to pay her back.
The video below is dedicated to J-Mo and our going out theme song. We showed Hollywood that we didn’t need shiny shirts and freshly cut hairdos to fit in. We did it our way.
It was his birthday last month but I couldn’t make it because I had to do my hair. So check out the flashback video of a few years ago.
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Posted 1 month, 1 week ago at 11:39 AM. 9 comments
You get that feeling when you read a story you wrote 2 years ago and can’t believe you actually submitted it to a teacher. Reading it to yourself is so embarrassing and awful. That feeling you get when you take another listen to the song you created with the very first BAND you were in. It sounds like a poorer version of CREED. Or that feeling you get when you blow the dust off some old photographs and cringe at the unsightly PANTS you used to wear to school. I at one time in my life have felt all of these feelings. And as PAUL THOMAS ANDERSON wrote in one of my favorite films of all time, Magnolia, “We may be through with the past, but the past ain’t through with us.” Ain’t that the truth? Because no matter how much I wanted to bury those old rave photos of me and my friends (mostly just me), I conveniently forgot that I originally made doubles and the same set is lying in a friend’s drawer somewhere bound to surface again at the most inconvenient time. So what better way to defeat fate than by beating it to the punch?
I’m beginning to post some of the older clips of What Mike Saw, which will inevitably count down to the first episode I ever made. These are going back to 2006 when we lived in a different time so that means embarrassing moments, embarrassing dance movies, embarrassing hair. I look like a Filipino IAN BROWN in this. But it’s okay because I enjoy uncomfortable situations.
This clip #7 isn’t quite to that level of embarrassment, yet, but features some shenanigans and a few celebrities. Most of them are B-rate (Tom Green) but none the less, nice to look at. And make fun of.
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Posted 1 month, 3 weeks ago at 6:45 PM. 5 comments
Growing up in WALNUT, I was surrounded by all types of Asians and ORIENTALS. I had a Chinese, Indian, and Paki within my group of skater friends alone. Most of my high school classmates were Chinese and Korean. If I were in more AP classes, they would all be Asian. One of my dad’s best friends was Vietnamese and another from Indonesia. I was part of the Halo Halo club, which is a Filipino-American club run by students. I had also danced in countless DEBUTS. My favorite restaurants in the city were a Thai place and a Japanese place. And maybe a Chinese place too if you count Panda Express.
But despite immersing myself into various Asian cultures, I never knew anyone with a Laotian background. The only thing I knew about Laos was the Laotian family from KING OF THE HILL. That was until NOP came into my life. It was a couple years ago while hanging out at my friend CODY’S housewarming party. Cody introduced me to him saying, “Dude! You’ve got to meet this guy. You two would get along so swell!”
Two years later, I’ve got the equivalent of a doctorate on Laotian culture. But I can attribute most of that to Nop’s best friend Vinh (also from VA). Vinh tends to find obscure ARTICLES on the internet about Laos and forwards them to his friends.
Celebrating your birthday is a special time. Since it comes only once a year, all the focus and attention is on you. So what better way to celebrate your birth than than by dedicating the entire month to you. Don’t mind if anyone else has a birthday in the same month. They can just come along for the ride. That’s what Nopvember is all about and so is the video below.
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Posted 2 months, 2 weeks ago at 7:14 PM. 7 comments
Every guy enjoys feeling like a stud. Any boost to our self esteems, especially as we grow OLDER, gives us that extra jolt of much needed TESTOSTERONE. But once in a while, you might find yourself in an extra ordinary situation that is too good to be true. A couple of years ago while hanging out at an outdoor bar in Cebu, I found myself in one of those situations. I almost felt like a George Clooney, or a Matt Damon, or a JUSTIN BIEBER. I was that manly. Plus the situation gave me much needed confidence after I got myself a botched $5 haircut.
So here’s what happened. A few of my friends and I were mesmerized by the magic of a local magician who made rounds to all the people sitting at tables. He was doing David Blaine type magic tricks. Even though I’m more of a CRISS ANGEL fan myself, this guy was pretty entertaining. He even did that one trick that David Blaine does where he pulls thread out of his stomach. That’s great and all but it just didn’t have the same mystique as Cris Angel’s levitation MASTERPIECE.
Anyways, while being completely enthralled with the Filipino David Blaine, I here a voice call my name in the distance. ”Mike!” Knowing that I have a very common name, I didn’t bother to turn my head. Not with the amazingness going on right in front of me.
Then I here the same voice again, but this time they said, “Hey Mike! Mike from L.A!” This time I knew it had to be me they were calling out so I turn my head. I could hardly believe my eyes. Before me in the distance were about 5-6 very beautiful, very stacked, Filipina girls dressed quite provocatively.
I walked over to them as cool as the stud I thought I was. I probably looked more like URKEL, but whatever. These chicks were calling out my name. As I get up to them, they all introduce themselves to me. They were acting like giddy, 16-year-old high school girls. It was pretty awesome.
I sat down with the group of them to have a drink. One by one, they introduce themselves to me. Where they are from, how old they are, and their occupation. It was very innocent and friendly. But and as time goes by and as the drinks go down, they all begin to loosen up. I mean really loosen up. As one girl had the courage (for some reason) to show me her breast implants, they all begin to show me their breasts implants. I couldn’t believe it. They actually pulled each boob out of their shirt in the middle of this bar as if I’m there to judge them. I actually felt really ashamed to tell you the truth. I was in so much shock, I didn’t even have the mental capacity to think of pulling out my video camera. I’m sure they would have loved some camera time.
Then the party really started. After getting my own personal boob show, they began making me touch their boobs by grabbing my hand and placing it accordingly. It had to be one of the most surreal moments of my entire life. One of them even tried to shove my face into her bosom. That’s when I thought to myself, “Okay, these are definitely prostitutes. I’m out of here”. Read the rest of my awesomely bizarre experience after the video below.
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Posted 2 months, 2 weeks ago at 10:40 PM. 8 comments
For those kids living in Southern California (I prefer to call it SOCAL), we all grew up during our prepubescent years hearing rumors of a fantasy world where you can drink under the age of 21. It was a place where lawlessness is common and if you’re lucky, you might be able to catch a DONKEY SHOW. You can live out all your fantasies in this one incredible place, thought to have existed only in Tommy Lee’s METHODS OF MAYHEM song lyrics. The next morning, it’s not extra ordinary to wake up in a random hotel room next to a girl named STARLA while the VENGABOYS is bumping in the background. You stink of Jose Cuervo, which was pumped down your throat by some dude named Luis with a whistle in his mouth.
I personally was never fascinated by these stories. They sounded horrific to tell you the truth. It sounded like a really big high school party with no sign of parents anywhere. But that’s just because I didn’t realize how fun they were until later on.
The footage below is a glimpse of what my friend Adam and I experienced in some random bar in TJ. This wasn’t one of those bars on REVOLUTION ST. either so that meant not as many tourists. We were on or way down to Mexico City but decided to stop by TJ to visit some friends first. While the drug problem still runs rampant today, this video took place during the early stages of cracking down on the Mexican drug trade. This was around the time when dead bodies of Federali’s were popping up everywhere. Sad thing is, they still are.
The AFI’s would randomly search local bars and clubs by abruptly cutting the music while their dogs sniff out drugs. And as a word of advice, don’t try to pet the dogs and tell them how cute they are. The AFI will rough you up just as they did me.
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Posted 3 months ago at 1:44 PM. 12 comments
I honestly can’t stand cops. I try to give them the benefit of the doubt knowing that our communities need police enforcement but time and time again, you hear a story of some cop with a name like “Hawkins” or “Gutierrez” with a blatant display of abusing power. Since my skateboarding days when I was a prepubescent HUNK, cops would always hassle us. Rarely have I ever seen a cop protect and serve the public. All they are good for is to feed into their own egos and do each other’s HAIR to look cool. In fairness, there have been times when I’ve witnessed police assist people stuck on the side of the road (excluding me) and there were a few cops who let my friends and I off with a warning while skating Walnut High School (home of the MUSTANGS). But they are definitely overshadowed by policeman who really don’t care about your safety, and care more about their quotas.
Now due to the state’s budget crisis with an economy going to HELL, you probably noticed more and more cops on the roads along with those cute ticket OFFICERS cruising around marking everybodys’ tires. More enforcements on the streets aren’t because of rising crime rates but rather to make money off citizens like you and I for petty infractions like jaywalking or bumping Reggaeton music from our cars. Okay fine if you break the law, but the city is willing to extract every last penny they possibly can out of that one violation. A few weeks ago, I got ticketed for parking at a meter after 4PM, which is rush hour time. Actually I deserved that ticket because I too hate it when people use up valuable lane space while I’m trying to rush home to catch the tail end of FAMILY MATTERS. But then here comes the tow truck out of nowhere to take my car to the impound lot. The meter maid was a total prick. But I got the tower to let my car go, but for 200 bones. I asked him, “Hey, you guys are doing this because the city is broke, right?” He just responded with a slight shake of the head yes. That was the most expensive Subway sandwich I have ever bought.
I expect predators to come out of large banks and corporations to squeeze money out of people, but it makes me feel ill to see the same practices coming from our government.
This “What Mike Saw” is dedicated to everyone who has received a ticket for something really crappy. In this episode, you will see a glimpse of how I managed to magically turn a $50 texting ticket, into a $900 headache. I don’t think I will ever talk shite to a cop again. Fucking assholes. Plus this episode has its share of trouble, throw-up, Hollywood parties, boobs, skating, and so on.
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Posted 3 months, 3 weeks ago at 2:45 PM. 13 comments
I don’t understand why Segways aren’t more of a phenomenon than they should be. Back in 2000, I saw a news feature on these innovative machines and I thought to myself, “The future has finally arrived!” I went out and quickly invested my life savings on what I thought was the wave of the future. I was an outspoken advocate for Segways and was out there spreading the word. Instead of walking to the park, why not Segway to the park. Plus you can roll over grass, dirt, and even feces without getting your shoes dirty. BTW, back then I was also a SNEAKER freak. So Segways gave me that advantage of keeping my shoes clean at all times.
Nearly a decade later, I have learned that this is just the beginning. I see Segways everywhere. Airport security, mall COPS, and even MOTHERS can be seen on Segways. It’s a miracle! If it took 10 years to get this far, imagine what 2020 will look like. Segway firefighters? Segway puppies? Segway at the X GAYMES? I like where this is heading.
I may have had a slight hand in the Segway Blowup. Four years ago I created a commercial for Segway as a marketing ploy geared for a certain demographic. It’s a bit French New Wave but I think it makes a statement for today’s working man.
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Posted 3 months, 3 weeks ago at 12:46 PM. 6 comments
Before a single follicle on your upper lip can be considered a MUSTACHE, before the cracks in your rough and scratchy voice can be sealed, and before those hairs on your nipple are considered legit, you must become a man. There comes a time in every boy’s life when he must make a major decision. This decision makes up whether or not this boy will stay a boy, or move on to the next level. But the task at hand varies from culture to culture, which legitimizes ones entry into manhood. The Jews celebrate a boy’s bar mitzvah for his transition. In Ethiopia, boys walk on top of cows’ backs naked for their transition. And here in America, every boy must know how to rewire their cable boxes to get free SPICE before they make the jump into manhood.
In the Philippines, I’m not exactly sure what path one must take in order to be free from boyhood. But I may have created a great method of creating men out of boys. I wouldn’t necessarily call the BALUT a delicacy. It’s practically street food since you can get it at any random street corner in the Philippines. And if you’re like me who prefers the street version of anything (tacos, ghetto dogs, cotton candy) then you are sure to love the balut. You may even consider it tastier than sunny side up. And more fun to eat as well.
Most people are unfamiliar with the balut. It’s basically a duck egg only a couple of weeks old. Give that thing a few more days and the bird would crack out of its shell. But the incubation process is shorted by which the balut is created. So when the shell is opened, you essentially see a bird that was almost ready to burst open to hatch.
Last year, I thought it would be fun to bring a couple of baluts to my friend’s house who was hosting the PACQUIAO/DE LA HOYA fight. In honor of Pac-Man, three people were up for the feast. Little did I know that when I bought the eggs from my neighborhood Filipino store Seafood City, they had to be boiled first. I literally thought you could pick up the eggs off the shelf and eat it right then and there. In the video below, you will literally see the evolution into manhood right before your very eyes. Not to mention the defeat of salmonella or any other egg infested disease that could have been acquired. If you ever see a balut as shown in the video below, know that it is NOT supposed to look like that. These guys really could have gotten sick.
This one’s dedicated to Manny. I wish him luck because he’ll need it. Anyone who has been following 24/7 on HBO knows this may be his toughest battle yet. And he needs to stop messing around with corrupt politicians so that he can focus on fighting.
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Posted 4 months ago at 8:37 PM. 9 comments
I have finally gotten over my flu that ailed me and kept me bed ridden for about 2 weeks. It was a horrible ordeal and I hope that I never suffer through anything like that again. I felt like I was 10 years old. In that time in bed, I was able catch up on some good MOVIES I had missed and a little bit of television here and there. I suppose that is the single best thing about being sick. But over time, I paid less and less attention to the movies I had rented and couldn’t help but stay fixated on one channel. And by the title of this posting, you should know what I’m talking about: The Filipino Channel, or what is known in most Flip households, TFC.
Obviously you won’t find TFC in most homes because you have to pay anywhere from $10 to $20 a month to get that one channel. But I do notice many Filipino bahays I go to subscribe to it. I have TFC because I use it as a source to learn the national dialect of Tagalog. That and Youtube are my number one language learning tools and I encourage anyone who really wants to learn do the same.
“Hoy! Kumasta pare? Puede bang mag tanong? Saan nag Santa Monica Blvd? Dito? Sige, Salamat pare! Hoy Jun-Jun! Tayo na. Santa Monica Blvd ang direcho.”
See? I doubt the spelling is correct and I know there are some grammatical errors in the transcription above but I just pulled that off the top of my head. Plus that’s coming from a Fil-Am who didn’t have many Filipino friends growing up and English was the primary language spoken in the house. If any Filipino was spoken, it was either Cebuano or Illocano, which are two completely different dialects than Tagalog. I guess you can say I was a confused child. But I can now thank Youtube and TFC for helping me learn.
I have been traveling back and forth to the Philippines a lot lately for a number of reasons. But it was one trip that I took two years ago that created an awakened fascination inside me with the Philippines. What was supposed to be a one-month business trip evolved into a seven-month exploration, examination, and education of my roots and heritage. I witnessed the good, the bad, and the ugly. I experienced everything from the most pristine, untouched beaches, to the ghetto ass, dangerous barangays where I had no business of being. I seriously saw it all.
And this is where I have my problems about TFC. Although TFC is only one channel provided for us Fil-Ams in the states, it is a good representation of the overall media in the Philippines. But, it is not a good representation of the country itself. Because I use it as a learning tool, I spent most of my time just trying to decipher what was being said instead of following any story line. But as time passed, I began to understand the content.
I can sum up most of the television shows in the Philippines with in one word: Garbage. It’s not to say that there is no quality programming because there are many educational, interesting, and hilarious television shows that exist. Unfortunately the overly dramatic and excessively crying soap operas that litter homes of the Filipino people overshadow them. Please please please stop with the crying already! It’s generally understood throughout the country that if a Filipino movie or television show has no crying, it’s not quality. You must cry on cue if you’re a good actor. Sure it’s a great quality to have as an actor, but by doing so every single damn time in almost everything you do completely loses all value. But the worst part of it all is when life imitate art. We don’t need people crying all the time feeling sorry for themselves. And I ‘m afraid that’s exactly what has happened.
There is a very popular show called Wowowee. As far as I’m concerned, that show along with its host WILLIE, is a cancer to the country. The show is essentially a variety/game show with plenty of inappropriate dancing and off key singing performances by Willie. On the surface, it looks like the show is doing something really charitable for the countries poor people because they give away money so freely. Willie gives a show participant the platform to tell their sob story, which is usually followed by tears of sadness. It’s very formulaic and you will never ever ever get through an entire episode of Wowowee without at least two people crying.
In my opinion, the show does exactly what many of the political leaders, especially the corrupt ones, want out of a Filipino show. And that is to dumb down the people. And what happens when you dumb down a significant portion of the population? You stay in control of the people. Ignorance is never bliss. Ignorance only hurts.
A Filipino director named Brilliante Mendoza won the Prix de la Mise en Scene at the 2009 Cannes Film Festival for his film Kinatay. The film is about a man who takes a job for $2000 as a hit man so that he can afford to marry his girlfriend. That kind of story line is a long cry from what the average Filipino is used to seeing. Mendoza was praised and celebrated in the Philippines for bringing such a prestigious award to the country. The tragic part of this is that no movie theater anywhere in the country can show his work or anything he’s done in the past because of its graphic content.
So my objective here is not to bastardize the country I love, but to rather spread truth. There is a lot of beauty within the country but there is also lot that needs to be said about the condition of its people, politics, and identity. On the Real TFC, you will meet true Filipinos with real stories. So I would like to introduce “The Real TFC” with two videos where I started my journey. Boracay is the defining destination for Filipino paradise for many foreigners traveling to the Philippines. I had a great time visiting a close friend who grew up with me and now lives there. The first video really shows how awesome and relaxing Boracay is. The second video showcases a subculture of the Philippines that is widely accepted throughout the country, but is quite disturbing to me.
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Posted 4 months, 1 week ago at 1:39 PM. 8 comments
