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Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Velasco: A tragic republic
By Diana B. Velasco
Grain of Salt
I DON'T really watch local television shows. I get exhausted from the constant exposure to yet another rehash of the telenovela and telefantasya concept, the camp that passes for musical entertainment, news stories on petty crimes and yet another coverage on the inanity of politics in the country.
But I like Wowowee. And I am not ashamed to admit to being a fan of the show.
What I like most about it is its sincerity. I especially love those moments when balikbayans contribute cash to the pot on live television. Sure, cynics may say they are mere show-offs; parading the fact that they are living a life abroad that most of us can only dream of.
But it seems so much fun when they do it, a modern form of bayanihan when the have-mores give what they can to the desperate ones. And they do it in so entertaining a manner that I could not help but wish each and every one of them well, even if some of them do come across as humbugs.
When used wisely, twenty dollars can properly feed a family of six for a week. So how could I possible begrudge them 10 seconds of airtime that they bought with fistfuls of one-dollar bills?
True, I wouldn't want to be friends with Willy Revillame even if he were accessible to the likes of me. But we have to admit that he is an effective host, one who was able to successfully capitalize on the get-rich-quick dreams of every unfortunate soul who pinned all his hopes in a noontime game show.
Willy tries so hard to be enigmatic and sincere, and he gets an A for effort in my book.
And then the show turned one year old. And the souls who pinned their hopes in the noontime show came in droves, 50,000 strong. Some camped as early as three days before, sleeping on newspapers on the sidewalk, afraid to eat or relieve themselves because God forbid should they lose their place on the queue.
The tragic thing is that they were not in line for the 2.5 million-peso house and lot and one million peso cash prize from Pera or Bayong. What they were in line for was the possibility -- however remote -- of having a more comfortable life in one clean shot.
Forgive me this sweeping generalization. But the stampede is an indication of how tragic we have become as a nation, a microcosmic manifestation of our rotten psyche.
We are undisciplined. When that small gate of opportunity closed, we hollered to be let in without a thought for those who are in line ahead of us, oblivious to the fact that we were killing people with our impatience.
We are desperate. We put our children and our grandmothers through extreme discomfort because should we get that chance and come face to face with Willy, we could use the young and the old to gain more sympathy -- and extort a little more cash should the tears not be enough.
We are sloth. We refuse to sweat it out where the rewards are more fulfilling -- in employment, in an honest day's work -- and choose instead to sweat while standing in line for three days because the instant solution just seems to be more worth the effort.
We are a tragic republic. And the tragedy lies not only in the deaths from this sad, sad incident but in the fact that we still look to Wowowee -- and not within ourselves -- for the betterment of our lives.
I am not a fan of the show any longer.
You may email missabsinthe@yahoo.com for your comments and reactions
For Bisaya stories from Davao. Click here. (February 7, 2006 issue)
Write letter to the editor.Click here.
Join the Sun.Star message board.Click here. |
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