of course this president is torture enough. that grimace that she seems to always have on her face. her capacity at giggling in kilig and laughing at jokes made at the expense of a nation in calamity. and we’re not even talking about her ability to say one thing and do another. and to lie through her teeth.

and then this, a perfect example of how torture is but part and parcel of GMA’s presidency. and how people still suffer for their politics - when it’s the kind that is not one of a heckler’s, or a rightist’s, or that of an America-loving-Pinoy - in the closet and otherwise.

According to the Manila Times editorial today, the NCR director for the Human Rights Commission Dr. Renato Basas has confirmed that various forms of torture have been employed by the GMA administration. And while she has also ratified the U.N. Treaty Against Torture, the editorial also says that obviously

“The unfortunate reality is that absolutely prohibiting the police, the jail managers, the military and others charged with the duty of ensuring that law and order prevail is not among the top priorities of Malacañang.”

A measure as well of GMA’s fear in the military’s power over her, thus the decision to coddle the Palparans of this world and celebrate then as fantastic officers, despite witness upon witness saying otherwise. Proving otherwise.

i caught Storyline’s episode on the desaparecidos of the present. And while sometimes the show’s format doesn’t work (more on this next time), last night, it just did, as it allowed King Catoy to just speak to the camera, with no real sense of an interviewer. Catoy told the story of his 2003 abduction, and spoke of the activists with him who were summarily executed: human rights worker Eden Marcellana and peasant leader Eddie Gumanoy.

what struck too close to home was the fact that he and two others had identified Master Sgt. Donald Caigas as one of their abductors. Caigas would also be the one name that would surface in relation to Karen Empeno’s and Sherlyn Cadapan’s disappearance, and apparent torture and rape. the latter story was witnessed and told by the abducted farmers who would come to be known as the Manalo brothers, Raymund and Reynaldo.

it was Raymund Manalo who claimed that he saw Palparan twice during his three-month detention, before he and his brother escaped to tell their story. in one of those instances, Palparan told him to tell his parents to stop going to protest rallies.

blindfolded, hands tied behind him, and kneeling on the ground, King Catoy was also told the same thing: stop going to rallies, stop whatever it is you’re doing with these activists. stop being yourself.

and everyday, we live through the torture of knowing that many others are disappearing and dying for doing what they do, believing what they will, living a life for justice and democracy that we all should want to live. because people are stolen, are made to disappear, are tortured and raped, and are killed, not simply for their politics. in GMA’s time (as with Marcos’), they are being made to suffer for being themselves.

That we are enamored by KC Concepcion is understandable. It’s not so much that we saw her grow up, or that she’s the girl born with a silver spoon in her mouth - many other young stars are the same. We find her interesting because in the past, she remained distinctly resistant to the idea of the limelight, having one-foot-in-one-foot-out of the showbiz industry she was born into.

The uniqueness of KC’s star creation though lies in her and her handler’s ability to keep her in our consciousness despite her absence from this limelight. Add to this the refusal to keep her in the comfy box her mother Sharon Cuneta’s fame would’ve allowed her, and KC just kept us all curious, to say the least.

Beyond her mother’s shadow

So we come to know KC as a teenager acting, singing and dancing in stage musicals versus television. Upon turning 18, we saw KC’s debut celebration, and are allowed a glimpse of someone who isn’t shallow or superficial. She chooses handmade products by unwed mothers (or was it orphans?) from a local shelter, for her giveaways. She’s also deemed imperfect - still with baby fat, and not reed thin as 18-year-old celebrities tend to look these days.

She then surprised everyone, not just by choosing college over a showbiz career (how rare is that these days?), but by wanting to leave home and go independent. Soon after leaving for Paris, KC started appearing more often on TV commercials.

In the TV special used to reintroduce her, From Paris to Pinas, KC is rendered, not as her mother’s daughter, but as an adult with her own set of responsibilities. She was portrayed as a regular everyday person in Paris and elsewhere, who’s also a compassionate Pinay. In Paris, KC befriends an overseas Filipino worker, a cleaning lady of one of her friends.

And so the stage was set for the kind of star KC was going to be: with feet firmly on the ground, a sense of self and independence distinct from her mother, and a good dose of social consciousness. With such a pretty face to boot, KC was more than just covergirl material. Her star was perfectly created as role model material.

Advertising becomes KC

For this generation of stars, doing commercials has meant credibility, and the number of product endorsements a celebrity has is not just a measure of her fame, as it is a measure of her life. If KC’s advertisements on television are any indication, then while her life is not cookie-cutter, it’s close to being perfectly clean-cut.

She sells everything on television (multivitamins, shampoo, vaginal wash, a broadband company), and in print (digital cameras, clothes). In many of these ads, her image as independent woman is recreated and confirmed; sometimes, as with clothing brand Bayo, her being Filipina is sold as well.

It’s hard to argue with KC’s need to sell products, particularly given the kind of mother she has - Cuneta sells everything from pancit canton (with husband Sen. Francis Pangilinan) to ice cream (with youngest daughter Miel), and yes, vaginal wash, too. Given current showbiz, where a pretty face can make you the next big star regardless of talent, doing commercials seems like one of those silver spoons KC’s had in her mouth all this time.

Advertisements and star creation

Undoubtedly, it’s also these endorsements that allow for her first foray into acting, the I Am KC drama specials that ran for a month, to earn money. Watching the show, you barely have time to breathe among the various images of KC - from her TV role to her many commercials. Here, the combo of TV show (and specials) and advertisements clearly mix.

She’s even able to do it for more worthy causes. Who knew of the U.N. Feeding Program and the Virlanie Foundation before KC? Because of all those product endorsements, she seems to be selling everything she stands for as well. And in this time of crises, she has to be given credit for wanting to feed children and keep them in school. It’s more than many actresses her age are doing after all.

Limits to her selling powers

But selling a whitening product? For someone like KC, whose fair complexion is well-documented by a life on television, it’s a stretch. And one wonders why she even needs to sell this product at all. Of all her endorsements, this one actually runs counter to everything that KC stands for: from social consciousness to independence, a sense of self to having feet firmly on the ground.

Because to sell skin whitening is to insist on discontent, if not unacceptability - you need to be whiter not darker, fairer not morena. It seems farthest from what KC would want to sell, given the Pinay pride that she celebrates often and the self-confidence she espouses.

And at a time when actresses, athletes - even senators! - make money out of selling products, wouldn’t it be the greatest thing to see KC saying no to certain endorsements? Wouldn’t it be fantastic to hear KC say that loving the skins we’re in is the best thing, regardless of its color? Given the kind of star and role model that she is, this isn’t only a small price for KC to pay, it’s also a well-founded expectation.

To re-introduce the second season of reality show Pinoy Dream Academy, ABS-CBN showed reruns of the first season on Studio 23. So everyday last week, we were reminded of how great the talent actually was last year. Too, it was a reminder of how many of them turned out: those who haven’t become near-extinct have been forced into becoming “actors” instead of just singers; those who are seen more regularly on television have been forced to fit into the mold of the “acceptable” TV star.

Anyone who watches the shows on ABS-CBN would know exactly what acceptability means for the network, at least as far as star creation is concerned. Case in point: is there one morena girl in that stable of stars? Save for Nikki Gil, who has remained her old morena self, everyone has become practically the same fair - and acceptable - color. Even more true for PDA’s Star Dreamer Yeng Constantino who, in the reruns, looks more her age and seems to be more comfortable in her own skin.

Star standardization

Seeing her on the variety show ASAP every Sunday, Constantino always looks uncomfortable alongside actresses and singers (and of course singer-actresses as contemporary showbiz requires everyone to be) with their “flawless” white skin, rebonded hair and made-up faces. And while Constantino has conformed as seamlessly as possible to the way these other girls look - sometimes disappearing in those buffet (i.e., everyone possible is included) song numbers - this doesn’t keep the conformity from being discomforting.

Because as the reruns remind me, Constantino was quite the unique girl, over and above the distinct clothing style (Chuck Taylors were a staple), and humble beginnings. Beyond skin, she was also the edgy girl, reconfiguring the classic “I Will Survive”- preempting David Cook. Constantino was also writing her own songs then, proving creativity beyond just the mimicry that many others - contestants and professional singers - are wont to do.

Now though, there’s a lack of celebration for what Constantino actually can do, and what makes her distinctly different from the singers that surround her. Too often, they force her to do vocal calisthenics, in showdowns with divas and belters, never mind that it’s just not her style. Or that it doesn’t do justice to her voice and her rock ‘n’ roll roots.

New season, new dreams

And so it is with hope that I’ve been watching the new - and I daresay improved - version of PDA, with a new set of mentors that so far include Ryan Cayabyab, Jose Javier Reyes and Kitchie Molina. While we have yet to hear Molina say something more than “relax your jaw, you need to relax your jaw” to every contestant, the combo of Mr. C and Reyes is a joy to watch. Unlike the first season, both seem more open to difference, encouraging confidence in the dark skinned girl who’s insecure about her color, and the overweight girl who sings better than most.

Reyes of course is quick to assert in the round table discussions with the other mentors: we have to admit, it will be hard to sell this person. The unsaid being the weight and the color, the less than perfect face.

Thankfully though, among the new mentors, and more importantly between Mr.C and Reyes, the right questions are asked, not just of the contestants, but of the judges as well: should her looks keep her from getting into the next round? should the sob story be as important as the voice? should the voice be the most important thing?

Image versus talent

Often though, it is this question that reverberates: can we fix her image? This is also the most disconcerting. Because it is a reminder that to a certain extent, these contestants are seen as broken - that the overweight, the dark, the curly-haired, the not-so-pretty skin must be mended in order for these singers to be acceptable. It’s no different from what has happened to Constantino, even when her albums and concerts allow for her rock ‘n’ roll roots, and real self, to show.

And even then, I look at Mr. C and imagine that there is hope. Because he knew enough to take on regular looking girls like Jolina Magdangal and Tenten Munoz for 14k, and unknowns like Jeffrey Hidalgo, Geneva Cruz and Tony Lambino for Smokey Mountain. Because even with the Ryan Cayabyab Singers, voice and talent seems to be the most important thing. Let’s hope he can go up against the star creation - standardization - of ABS-CBN.

Then it will be said, that Mr. C is not only Pinoy Idol’s loss and Pinoy Dream Academy’s gain. If he can affect the notions of beauty that TV culture sells, he will be all of ours.

hazel, a Pinay OFW working as a dancer in Japan cries rape against an American serviceman, three days after she arrived in the land of the rising sun. the case has been dropped by Okinawa police due to “lack of sufficient evidence”. nanay melly, left behind in the philippines, feels helpless, and distance is beside the point. there’s been no government support for her daughter, who would otherwise be seen as a “bagong bayani”, who brings home the bacon, if not the dollars.

mary, a Pinay OFW from Dubai, comes home and decides to get liposuction. the pressure to be thin(ner) than she is, is too much; media images of acceptable women tell her she is otherwise. she dies on the operating table of the Borough Medical Center in Libis Q.C.

in 2006, Pinay nicole got justice in the lower courts, as Lance Corporal Daniel Smith was convicted of raping her. even then, the GMA gov’t allowed for Smith to be kept under US custody in the US Embassy. now, a year and a half later, news has leaked that the Court of Appeals Justice Vasquez Jr., is leaning towards Smith’s acquittal.

juana, an OFW since 2003, was suppose to get her permanent residency in Canada in 2006, as per Canada’s federal live-in caregiver program. as she went through the required medical and criminal clearances, she was found to have cancer. juana asked that the good health requirement be waived for humanitarian reasons, given the fact that she had worked well enough to meet all other requirements for residency. the Canadian gov’t sees her as a liability, a burden to the health care system. now, with stage 4 cancer, the chances remain slim that juana will be granted residency; even slimmer that the Philippine gov’t will help her cause. she has until august 8 to leave Canada.

nanay erlinda cadapan, mother of U.P. student sherlyn who has been missing for two years, finds herself on ANC program “Media in Focus”, beside a female PNP officer who tells her “you are more than welcome in my office anytime, Mrs. Cadapan.” the emptiest line she could possibly hear after two years of searching in vain for sherlyn, and dealing with the police and military’s refusal to cooperate and investigate their own ranks. nanay connie empeño, must feel exactly the same way.

at the end of the segment that featured her, nanay erlinda asks a rhetorical question: bakit po kaya si ces drilon, sampung araw lang ay nahanap na ng gobyerno, samantalang ang aking anak na dalawang taon nang nawawala, at napakarami po naming witnesses, ay hindi ninyo kami matulungan sa paghahanap?

to which host cheche lazaro, maybe surprised that her colleague ces was being dragged into the discussion, or maybe aghast that this woman dared put a media personality on the same level as a student activist, or even that nanay erlinda dared pinpoint a clear discrepancy between how hi-profile personalities and the everyday person is treated by gov’t, says: ano po bang gusto ninyong gawin ng gobyerno para sa kaso ninyo?

as if the answers aren’t obvious enough. as if media itself isn’t guilty of creating the kinds of lives that real women have in this country; or isn’t guilty of perpetuating the notion that we don’t have answers to such cut and dried questions.

as if we didn’t know that if gov’t really cared for its women, then none of them - none of us - would be in the news. for being other than what we want to be, away from home and family, and our sense of selves.

(and it is for these very reasons, that we are hard put to celebrate successes such as this one. via tonyo and adobo:)

i did say i was aching to write about Rogue Magazine’s independence day issue, but was overtaken by the NHI’s accusations, Joey Mead’s naked body, and Argee Guevarra’s defense.

suffice it to say that it was as i expected of a high-end P180-peso english “literary lifestyle” magazine, and their notion of the “State of the Nation” — the title of the month’s issue. save for Lourd de Veyra’s literary piece on an imagined exchange between two friends, one in Dubai and another in the Philippines, there is no mention AT ALL of the crises that beset this country.

and while the editor’s piece for the month did talk about the need for heroes, as an introduction to their Honor Roll of Nine Portraits of Philippine Pride, all it talked about was corruption in a general sense, alongside the other “pressing and dangerous problems” that beset the nation: “poverty, health care, human rights, the environment, education, and crime”.

at a time when you have a president like GMA who can wax clean and innocent about corruption and all the other six problems they mention, generalizations are the last things we need. these are also the easiest to wax nationalistic about, the easiest words to use to pretend we are concerned with nation and its state.

when in truth we aren’t.

the Honor Roll is a hodgepodge of middle to upper class ex- and present gov’t officials, academicians and NGO people, some of whom took a stand by saying no to corruption and resigning from gov’t office, others by establishing some NGO or other, and yet others by writing column after column on being Filipino. and while the choices are highly debatable (something that the magazine is open to, given that the editor’s note also asks that readers start sending in their choices for what they imagine will be an annual Honor Roll), what it more importantly reveals is the kind of change and heroism that the magazine asserts as relevant at this point.

it is of change that is superficial, the kind that puts a band-aid on what have been the incurable diseases that beset this country. it’s not systemic nor societal change, not even a change in attitude or perception about the kinds of lives we live, in the context of a nation in crisis.

which brings us back to the fact that this issue of Rogue, while it touts itself as the “State of the Nation” issue, is really just proof that what keeps the upper classes comfy in their beds or computer seats, is their notion of nation. reading through this magazine, it doesn’t seem at all like we live in the same nation, nor that there’s a bigger nation that Rogue is part of. more than anything, it sells itself as a global magazine with philippine interests. that is, philippine upper class interests.

truth be told, those images of Smokey Mountain (for the de Veyra piece) seem trivialized in light of the photojournalistic piece on the Aurora Borealis in Alaska, the long article on the elite life that Steve Psinakis lives (which promotes his autobiography), and the feature on revolution according to Pinoy punk - which did not at all interview the punks on the ground, i.e., the mass following of local punk who are understandably enamored by the notion of anarchy in the midst of their hunger.

or maybe this is the nation for the upper classes. and it’s why they - we - can pretend that things are fine, even in the midst of rising prices and every other crisis related to that. maybe this is why there’s been an influx of foreign concert acts, a rise in the number of glossy magazines, the rise of expensive American and European stores in Greenbelt 5.

because in third world Philippines, there is this tiny pocket of the first world that continues to thrive. and to them, the state of the nation remains within the tiny circles they move in, and the even smaller spaces they inhabit. magazines like Rogue included.