The Philippines and the rest of world in the year 2025
The Philippines and the rest of world in the year 2025
By Cesare A.L. Syjuco
Published in: The Manila Times, April 19, 1986
IT IS the year 1996 and the Philippines is the most powerful and most influential nation on Earth. Corazon Aquino is elected as the First Filipino President of the United States of America, succeeding the infamous George Bush. Although unwilling to run, she is drafted by a million American signatures, a popular move inspired by her phenomenal success with her native Philippines. In her first official act as concurrent President of both countries, she grants Filipino citizenship to all able-bodied Americans, and magnanimously extends Philippine statehood to all 50 states in the union, including Hawaii. She cites the historic friendship between our two peoples as the reason for this unprecedented generosity. In Philippine embassies throughout the United States, Americans no longer have to stand in endless queues to be black-balled by our consuls. There is rejoicing among negroes and white men alike.
On the North American continent, the Filipino influence is painfully apparent. In Los Angeles, American mothers administer regarding drugs to their children in an attempt to stunt their growth and flatten their facial features. In Jacksonville, robust white women write frenzied love-letters in eager response to newspaper ads that list the names and addresses of elderly Filipino males receptive to mail-order romance. In Detroit, throngs of half-naked men wiggle shoulder-to-shoulder through the city streets, parading the image of the Black Nazarene. In New York, black and white hawkers peddle woodcarvings and stone-ashtrays to Pinoys, dogging them for blocks saying, "Hey, Jose, wanna buy a statue?" In Colorado Springs, Filipino tourists in shorts and slippers give alms to blonde urchins. Our naval bases in Palm Beach and San Francisco, as well as our airfields in Aspen and Springfield, feed literally thousands of American civilians and contaminate them with venereal disease. Abandoned American kids crucify themselves on Good Friday, seeking the attention of their long-lost Filipino servicemen-fathers. And more American babies are christened "Benigno" than any other name.
Everywhere, everyone loves the Filipino. The Philippine flag (now with 53 stars and two suns) flies proudly in palatial consulates all over the world - as well as on the planets Mars, Jupiter, and Venus. In the best hotels in Europe, regular breakfast fare consists of tuyo, champorado and salabat. Longganisa and itlog-na-maalat is the optional side-dish. Pilipino is the international language, sabong is the world’s most popular sport, and Malay Brown is the color to be.
Everyone aspires to be Pinoy: The banig replaces the waterbed. English lords play patintero. Backgammon is rendered obsolete by Sungka. Rights are obtained by Scottish distilleries to bottle and market Lambanog and Gin-bulag. San Miguel Beer’s export version, San Benigno, is dispatched "by the tankers" to Germany, Australia, and the USA. Fuel-efficient jeepneys play the avenues of Paris. Cardinal Sin becomes Pope Sin the First.
The Filipino appears to live a nonchalant and carefree existence. White domestic helpers are employed in middle-class Filipino homes, Arab laborers work our mines, and the carabao has replaced the eagle on universal mintage. The peso talks and talks eloquently. The Brown Man has come of age.
The year is 2012 A.D. The Philippines continues to control media and world opinion. We control the world’s economy. We set the pace in the arms race. Our art and culture are synonymous with that of the entire world. We are masters of all but our own personal destiny. We possess everything except peace of mind.
For, in fact, no great nation is without its scourges. "S.U.D.s", a hyper-immunity disorder brought on by heterosexuality and procrastination, threatens our future existence. Philippine troops battle insurrection and the communist threat in neighboring Japan and Canada. Swiss terrorists hold our diplomats for ransom and murder our citizens as they wait patiently for their flight at the international airport in Rome. Our children are obseses with psychedelic drugs and orgies. Our women harbor unwholesome fantasies. Our divorce rate is 100%.
With appalling frequency, our most illustrious statesmen are discovered to be carrying-on illicit love-affairs with voluptious foreign agents, or are caught in the act accepting bribes from doddering old dictators overseas. Pornography is taught in schools even while false prophets hurry the onset of doom. Our youth is without dignity and direction. Our lives are empty and without fulfillment. As a nation, we consume more alcohol than food, take pills to rouse us in the morning and render ourselves unconscious at night, and die from cirrhosis of the liver before reaching the age of 40. Those who survive into their golden years are committed to institutions, are unceremoniously turned-out by their families, or are transformed into fertilizer.
The Filipino is overwhelmed by a terminal neurosis. His life makes little sense. His wife goes whoring. His kids suffer from gangrene of the mind. He is accosted in taxicabs, burned in effigy, and scorned in secret. His crime rate is the eighth wonder of the world. His phones are tapped.
Celebrated and aped, he trusts no one.
The year is 2025 A.D. The Filipino has had just about as much as he can stand. He voluntarily relinquishes military might, influence, wealth and prestige in favor of the Bruneians and North Africans. He dismantles his armed forces and bans the importation of white labor. He dissolves his union with the 50 states and leaves his white brother to the mercy of the Libyans. He withdraws irrevocably into himself. Once more, in characteristic fashion, he defies history and does the unexpected.
The year is 2036 A.D. The Filipino is happy with himself, with his gentle disposition, and with his childlike dependence on his God. His strong family ties have again been restored to him, and with it, the heartening counsel of his elders, and the admiration and respect of his wife and children. He tills his land, relishes his traditions, and guards his freedom jealously. The songs of his motherland mean more to him than the conquest of space and the pursuit of the status quo.
Lord! What fifty years can't do!
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Cesare A.X. Syjuco, “The Philippines and The Rest of the World in the Year 2025” (page 1 of 1), The Manila Times, April 19, 1986
