Dumb and Dumber : The Perez Hilton Effect

I don't understand this whole 'controversy' involving Carrie Prejean and Perez Hilton. I watched Prejean give her infamous anti-gay marriage response on YouTube, and saw Hilton's equally annoying response to this on his website, posted a few hours later. I figured it was an unfortunate embarrassment for both of them -- and a golden moment of trash TV --then I expected it to disintegrate into the ether. 

What surprises me is how this whole affair seems to have developed the shelf life of a Twinkie -- popping up in conversations, random blogs, and otherwise neutral corners of the Internet months afterwards -- and how it snowballed from a single incident to a full-blown national scandal, fueled on by syndicated  news networks. 

Let's get this straight: I strongly support gay marriage. I have always believed that the same legal rights available to straight couples should be extended to those in same-sex relationships. I cannot honestly find a single logical, legal, or social basis for why gays should not be allowed to take the same oath if they wish. 

So I find it exceptionally tragic that the Prejean vs. Perez affair emerged at the cusp of rising protests in California. Not only does it add a touch of sleaze to an otherwise important and crucial time in the gay civil rights movement, it ironically threatens to repel even more people from an already polarizing issue. That Perez has fashioned himself as the new poster boy for gay marriage is sickening; his shrill and underhanded treatment of Prejean makes him seem even more intolerant than those against gay marriage in the first place. He has unwittingly helped draw sympathy for Prejean, who, quite honestly, was just speaking her mind. She's a beauty queen, not a politician. And beauty contests aren't exactly epicenters of social progress, so why the shock and surprise?

For the campaign against the marriage ban to gain momentum, I think it needs to court the sympathy not just of gays, but of straights and those who are still open to the issue. It needs to be treated as not just a 'gay issue,' but a human one that affects us all. 

Perez co-opting the issue and using it as a sort of self-glorifying publicity stunt is disgusting, and threatens to drag the movement back by a few decades. In so many ways he helps uphold the negative stereotype. I support gay marriage and I am one of many straights who support the movement. But bitch, you definitely don't speak for me. 

Rosamunde is now on Tumblr

I've moved! I figure this blog has been in existence for more than a year, and it's now time to seek greener pastures (literally). 

Blogspot has been good to me, but Tumblr seems to match my blogging commitment level and attention span much more, allowing me to update more often. 

I'll keep this blog alive, however, for longer and perhaps more serious posts. And for sentimental reasons, of course.

Find my new site here.

Las Islas Filipinas

                                                   

In a Radio 4 feature on British author Nicolas Monsarrat, best known for his classic novel The Cruel Sea, Monsarrat explains his relationship with the sea and its influence on his life and work. What struck me about his description was how uncannily it seemed to resonate with the Philippines, its geography, and its current role in the world as the center of a massive labor and cultural Diaspora:

"I loved the sea from the moment I put my feet in it. I think it's the most attractive element of the Earth, and it's there to be enjoyed and respected.

"It's the testing ground.  [The sea] is what made this country a good one. I think just the fact of [the United Kingdom] being an island... [you're] voyaging outward all the time,  testing yourself against the sea, and full on making a go of it. [The British] go to the sea to make a living, to test their guts against this enemy, and out of it they bring the fish and they bring the trade from exploration. And that makes true Men."

I wonder why the ocean and our seas are so absent from Philippine historiography? Surely it has played a hand in constructing our country's biography in the same way as colonialism, war, and economic crises? We are a country of natural (watery) borders, as opposed to purely political ones. Was the sea not largely responsible for the development of very different regionalisms and dialects? Did our various bodies of water not help in producing a pre-colonial culture of mobility and trade among its many islands? Is this current Filipino Diaspora just a larger scale version of the mobility that we have always had within our islands?

A thoughtful archaeologist friend (who is also a struggling PhD student currently shuttling between Manila and Cebu) is trying to push for more geographical borders to include the seascape and not just end at the coastline. 

Oh well. As much as the sea might have shaped us, it still remains the long-suffering Nanny of Philippine cultural history, sitting just outside the frame of every official family portrait.

From Album Recuerdo de Maniiel. ca.1885

The Count loves ****ing!

Happy new year!  Many apologies for my long (but not mysterious) absence. Thank you to my loyal/patient/long-suffering readers -- all 1.5 of you -- for not deleting me from your subscription list (yet). I am back, and am ready to continue another year of irreverent blogging.

Thought of course I have yet to scrape together a blog entry, so let me leave you with this in the meantime.

I realize that this is probably why I ended up terrible at math.

Mwa ha ha ha haaaaah...

Fiesta season

The American election season officially ended two weeks ago, but only in theory. Here are a few more election-inspired gems that continue to pour out from everywhere. I hope they keep coming, as this promises to be the most amusing Presidential term yet. Is this fun phenomenon in any way connected to former Saturday Night Live comedian Al Franken's run for Senate?

From Private Eye:

And from the dark, putrid, depths of the World Wide Web (I don't even want to imagine where, exactly):

La Pequena Sarah Palin

(No) thanks to soulsis for sending me that truly disturbing video clip. More, more!

Live Show

This, hands down, is the best thing in the history of live online video streaming. 

Puppies!!!

Since my sister introduced it to me a few days ago, this site has eaten through more hours of my life than Plurk and Facebook combined. It is completely addictive.  Next: a live video stream channel for Bruno! 

Watch more live streaming at UStream.tv

Bush whacked

Thanks to soulsis for commiserating with me about Oliver Stone's sucky movie, and for pointing out an alternative Bush biopic. I love it:

That's My Bush! Oliver Stone, take note.

Stone cold

W. -- Oliver Stone's latest film on the incumbent American president George "Dubya" Bush -- in a nutshell:

1. Oliver Stone hates Dubya

2. George Bush Sr. and Barbara Bush favored Jeb, writing Dubya off as a failure of a son 

3. Dubya spent his life trying to step out of his powerful father's imposing shadow

4. Oliver Stone hates Dubya

5. Hubris fueled much of Dubya's major decisions in office, including the most fateful of all: the decision to declare war on Iraq

6. Condolezza Rice is a passive bootlicker with a weird accent

7. Young Dubya was a rich, privileged, hootin' tootin', hard drinking, cowboy hat and checkered shirt wearing, skirt chasing, impulsive, baseball-loving, Ivy League educated troublemaker. Yeeehaw!

8. Dubya found God and stopped rolling in all that crap.

9. Dubya is a charismatic figure with the 'people's touch'

10. Oliver Stone hates Dubya

11. The senior Bush is a respectable and ambitious statesman, but a cold and indifferent father.

12. Dubya lives off a steady stream of Dr. Pepper, sandwiches on white bread, pretzels, and (once upon a time) beer.

13. Good thing Dubya runs three miles a day.

14. Dubya is extremely dumb yet well meaning, and spends his life with a confused yet eager expression on his face

15. Dubya was manipulated by the powerful neocons who dominated his cabinet

16. Laura Bush has no personality, but wears the most perfect shade of red lipstick

17. Dubya is a hopeless public speaker

18. Karl Rove bears a striking resemblance to Gollum. Are they related? 

19. Dubya is a born again Christian

And finally...

20. Oliver Stone hates Duyba's guts.

I'm disappointed with Stone's portrayal of Dubya, whom I think will eventually be judged as one of the most interesting, if not one of the most enigmatic, figures in history. I can say this of course in hindsight -- in the aftermath of the election -- as Obama prepares to take his place in the White House. Believe me, I'm no Dubya fan myself. But Stone has done nothing to peel away the many layers of myth and media to expose the elusive human soul of this most vilified, most hated of men. 

That his being President of the United States is a product of strong political machinery, family money and connections, and possible electoral fraud is not new. Nor is anything else in the movie, including the implication that Cheney's desire for empire and oil wealth motivated the invasion of Iraq.  We didn't need to sit though a two hour Michael Moore-ish rant be reminded of these things.

I expected more from Stone. I would have liked to see him form an intimate picture of George, in the same way that director Stephen Frears's 2006 hit The Queen managed to chip past Queen Elizabeth's icy public image, and touch on her isolation, her loneliness, her quivering vulnerability. Bush might be 'dumb,' but it must take something particular to keep afloat politically, run both and country and a war, and remain the most powerful man on the planet for eight straight years. America's in rotten shape, but it's still there, and so is he. How did he do it? Could he actually be a shrewd, sneaky son of a bitch? Or could he have an instinctual, unique understanding of the political game in general, and the White House in particular? Surely there is something to learn, even from a villain. Stone makes it seem that, with the right political and financial backing, a monkey could run the White House. Not to be naive, but I'm hoping that it's a lot more complicated than that.

Maybe Dubya's unbelievable and unexpected hold on power reflects not only him as person, but an aspect of contemporary America snubbed by cosmopolitan, liberal, and 'worldly' commentators and pundits. Stone's caricature of Dubya as a stereotypical Southerner -- his cowboy hat, his boots, his exaggerated Texan drawl -- makes the director come off as yet another rich, sleek, all-black wearing, Hollywood bigshot who sneers at what he considers the 'backwards,' overly religious, provincial hicks who make up the American South. 

If I'd wanted a stereotypical, monolithic depiction of the South and Southerners, I would have preferred to watch HeeHaw. At least it's funny.

Obama

I can finally say this without sounding like an imperialist or a Manifest Destiny apologist: the impending election feels more like a world election, rather than an isolated American one. It is as if everyone and anyone has a personal stake in the election, in spite of nationality or political leaning. The scary thing is that, quite honestly, they do. We all do. 

This morning, the front covers of all the top broadsheets -- The FT, The Independent on Sunday, The Observer (the Sunday counterpart of the Guardian) -- carried photos of Barack Obama, looking very presidential. I've made sure not get my hopes up since the campaign began last year, so as not to risk being left heartbroken. But, as the day approaches, could this really happen? 

I'll be up listening to BBC Radio 4's all-night coverage of the election, starting at 11.15pm on November 4th until 6am the next day. 

In the meantime, I couldn't help notice the eerie similarity between these two. Both former beauty contestants, both equally as articulate. Are we staring at our future? 

Candidate Number 1:

And Candidate Number 2:

Interconnected nature of all things

Edward W. Said   (b. 1 nov 1935 -- d. 25 September 2003)

"... He was one of those rare people who sought and recognized the connections between different and seemingly disparate disciplines. His unusual understanding of...the human being was perhaps a revelatory construct that parallels between ideas, topics, and cultures can be of a paradoxical nature, not contradicting but enriching each other.

"...Edward Said's understanding of the world made it impossible for him to see only the obvious, the literal, the readily graspable; in his writing and in his life he continually discovered and brought forth evidence of the interconnected nature of all things."

           -- Daniel Barenboim, in his foreward to Said's Music at the Limits: Three Decades of Essays and Articles on Music.   

Reader, I married him

A quiet wedding we had.

02 September, Mayfair, London

Philippine history according to YouTube

The Origin of Love

According to Love's most soulful of bards, Hedwig.

Kasal

A handful of beloved friends and family have begun to drift into the city for a very special day. Excitement is mounting. More to come.

Oil slick

Just as daffodils are the harbingers of Spring, yellow Lamborghinis prowling the high streets of London are the harbingers of high-octane shopping season in the City. Forget cheapy Paris Hilton, or even blingtastic Victoria Beckham. Come mid August, heirs and heiresses of the wealthiest Middle Eastern oil magnates descend upon London in drones, raring to burn some real cash. Posh and Paris look ratty in comparison (well, they're ratty in general, but that's not the point...).  Imeldific? Sorry, Tita Meldy, not even you come close. Harrods, Selfridges, and all the toniest boutiques in London swell with flocks of glittering, veiled ladies snapping up gems with determined ferocity. 

During the last two weeks of August, all of Europe goes away on vacation, and what feels like the entire (wealthy) population of the Middle East drifts toward London. Walking through Knightsbridge on a Saturday evening is like walking across a busy, congested shopping strip in Dubai. 

Why do oil heirs and heiresses choose to shop in rusty, old London when designer boutiques and high end malls in cities across the Middle East (and America) are probably better stocked and much more luxurious? Conversation drifted in this direction during dinner with friends at a cozy, candlelit brasserie in Chelsea. One contemplative friend pointed out that the shopping itself wasn't the end goal. It's a change of scene they're after. "I mean, so what if they can get the same things back home?" he said, between bites of grilled skate. "What's a flight to London and the extra expense? They're loaded, so the added cost is nothing to them." "Yeah," grunted another, less diplomatic companion. "They ooze money." 

So, I guess the equivalent would be ordering a P1000 adobo at, oh, any fancy Filipino restaurant in Manila, instead of having it at a street stall. Adobo is adobo, but if you're willing to drop P1000 for something you know you can get cheaper, then the difference probably doesn't mean much. In other words, they burn cash in London simply because they can. 

Scary stuff.

Christian Louboutin flip flops. Yours for only £250.

Could do anything

"My father, my rational ally, who by his own testimony had married my mother because 'she was always a good writer and I thought a good writer could do anything,' and who chafed against her romantic nature ever since, encouraged me to be a scientist and discouraged me from fancy writing."

-- Jonathan Franzen, who ended up becoming a pretty good writer himself, remembers his father (and his mother) in The Discomfort Zone: A Personal History.

Roach

According to the latest wire from Thailand, everyone in Bangkok is talking about a local commercial series called 'Golden Rules of a Salesman:' 

Nice to know that cockroaches in Thailand have started entering white collar professions. I doubt the same can be expected of Philippine cockroaches, who seem to be turning a higher profit as crawly street thugs, food-spoilers, and general disease spreaders.  They may not be as entrepreneurial as Thai roaches, but they're definitely more bad ass.

Charming introvert

Both comforting and familiar:

"He spoke like a shy schoolchild startled at being called upon to speak in class. But in top form, and in private, he was wickedly witty and funny." -- Andre Leon Talley remembers Yves Saint Laurent (Vogue, August 2008)

A timid YSL preparing to board, 1950s.

This obituary in The Times probes deeper into fashion's gentle recluse.

Ay Dios Mio!

I think the London Lite has come out with the best review so far of Mamma Mia! amid all the sequined, gold lame, and glitter-filled mania:

"A glorious sunny summer treat to make you positively want to rip off your clothes, dance off Watterloo Bridge and dive headfirst into the Thames singing Fernando. Meryl Streep is a delight, and if you can get past the fact that her wedding-bound daughter looks barely old enough to be out of nappies, you'll be swept up in the frivolous, musical fun."

Need more be said? Incidentally I also felt like diving headfirst into the Thames after watching The Dark Knight, summer's Other blockbuster, but more out of disappointment than giddiness.

Flocking to London

Is the tube (i.e. subway) still the fastest way to get around London? Probably not, but it looks like the recently-unveiled £30 billion worth of plans to upgrade London's tube system has attracted new commuters.