I wanna have five children. I’m thinking twice.
I really need to study chemistry now, for there is a test (a test?!!?) tomorrow, but I saw this article in the internet saying that some head of EU delegation dude is endorsing a bill passed by some Filipino legislators to promote a “serious” family planning programme in the Philippines.
UNsurprisingly, the omnipresent Catholic Church comes into the picture, voicing out their staunch opposition, threatening to excommunicate them, those poor brave souls (the legislators) who will vote for the bill to be passed.
I am a Catholic. I believe in the sanctity of life. I suport the Catholic Church’s stand against contraceptives, although if you were to really ask me, I don’t really mind using it (in the future). Therefore, call me a hypocrite. But in this recalcitrant world, wherein – I believe – a part of my existence as a frail human being persists, I just can’t stand the government’s impotence problems. Dude, if you really want to do it, have the balls to do it. Don’t be a pussy wussy whatever. Don’t let some old priests scare you. Or is it just that yoooooooooooouuuuu are afraid of losing their support for the coming 2010 elections if you decide to sign THE bill?
I think Filipinos are born naturally intelligent. And talented. And creative. Raising your eyebrows won’t help. I have lived away from the Philippines long enough to notice the difference between examinations-based and naturally well-rounded organisms. When it comes to family planning, I shall give an A grade for following the Bible’s “go and multiply” instruction manual, but an F grade for making the lives of many new children worse off year by year. And I must make this clear: I’m not saying the Church’s at fault for my country’s skyrocketing poverty levels. That archipelago of 7,107 islands will be occupied by a whopping 100 million starving people in the next five years. Of course the population will always increase. Reproduction was essentially created to preserve the human race. But as what is always said, anything in excess is never good.
I don’t support killing babies. In fact, did you really kill a baby when you haven’t yet created the baby at the first place? You would not even get to that shining moment of some amazing mitosis and meiosis if you wore a rubber on you. The “fusion” of love in the heat of the night would have never occurred. On second thought, killing babies would apply more to abortion rather than to the use of contraceptives.
Maybe they should just remove the flavoring. It adds to the disgruntlement of conservative people. It’s like… Eeew…? And why does that thing have a banana flovor in it?! Banana flavor! And, look, there’s mint too! Let us ban this unprincipled, despicable, immoral device!
And I think it is even worse if you contribute to the suffering of people by letting your wife mimic a China factory. She produces too much, resulting in too many people to feed, to take care of, to send to school, to scold, and to release, let go, and have a life of their own, to start their own family football teams. Too many eventually suffer. That’s just my point of view.
But if you look at the real trend of events in the Philippines, the population growth has gone down by a few decimals, that’s good news, but the standard of living continues to plummet like a meteor crashing down on earth.
So what is really the problem? I don’t know.
Recently turned 19, I am an International Baccalaureate slave, a Roman Catholic, now of legal age to vote, to drink alcohol, to drive, to marry, to smoke, and to f*** around. I am manufactured in the Philippines but currently utilized in Singapore. I am the thick-skinned, ingrate bastard who dumped the Government in exchange for a $100,000 two-year private scholarship. Most people in the Philippines call me Row, as a result of a passed down genetic trait that triggers laziness. Actually, my nickname is Anju, which I am really really not so fond of. But I am fortunate enough not to suffer from the ubiquitous Filipino frenzy of naming nicknames with letter 'h's sandwiched between other letters, e.g. Jhong, Jhing, Bhong, or Bhing, and from the usual repetition of the same syllables - usually created by the whole extended family giggling in delight as one utters his or her baby cry while shitting unconsciously and secretively on the lampin, inside the duyan - resulting in stuttering names like Ton-ton, Ping-Ping, Bam-bam, Ging-ging and Don-don.
I am currently having the time of my life.
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