In your dreams
The one thing our honorable lawmakers know how to do is bring dishonor to their office and to the country. What a sad, sorry, shameful lot they all are, save for a very few. Lawmakers, they may be—in name only—but statesmen they are not. Gentlemen, much less.
Here’s the inalienable truth about men, most of them anyway: They really couldn’t care less about women. They posture, and they perform and they peacock for the approval—and envy—of other men.
Boys will be boys (or not)
Bong Suntay’s thought process and his subsequent sorry-not-sorry attempts to slither his way out of his disgraceful remarks attest to this. He thought he was being clever in illustrating a legal point with his analogy.
“Now here’s something all my bros out there will understand,” he surely must have thought to himself as he consciously chose to bring to public attention his private thoughts about an actress’ desirability to illustrate—disingenuously at that—that desire didn’t necessarily signify intent and should not be assigned any malice. “Just my imagination, nudge-nudge-wink-wink. No harm in that. You know exactly what I mean, boys. Joke lang, ok?”
But what is the purpose of all this salacious verbal subterfuge? To defend another public official for her own equally disgraceful statements about what she’d do to the president of the Philippines and his family, should anything happen to her. Because in a moment of abysmal stupidity—one of many such moments throughout her spectacularly mediocre political career, it must be pointed out—she, the vice-president of the country, announced that she had hired an assassin to eliminate her own immediate superior in the event that an alleged plot against her succeeded.
She even specified the mode of killing. Off with his head!
It was “just a joke”
It really is astounding that for a public figure with such a dismal track record of achievement during her term as education secretary—it is, of course, debatable, whether the blinding speed with which she proceeded to misappropriate millions of pesos in confidential funds, is a skill to be extolled; many of her fellow public servants seem to display the same talent for sorcery, often in the billions—she has demonstrated remarkable efficiency in engaging far in advance a hired killer to behead the president.
Predictably, she backtracked after a public outcry. She didn’t mean to threaten the president and his wife. It was just a joke. As if murder were ever a joke.
If the vice president of the Philippines were having murderous fantasies about the president, then not only is their relationship clearly toxic and therefore dangerously unproductive for the country, but also her breathtaking lack of judgment must be called into question.
And now here comes Bong Suntay, with his typical macho bravado—the knight in dubious armor—comes to rescue the thugstress in distress. She was just kidding around, he claimed. It was all in her imagination. Just like his sexual fantasies starring a beautiful actress, whose name he even brazenly mentioned. All in his imagination.
At least the guys get the joke, right? Idol, he said they called him. How they must envy him for putting into words so very openly the desires they only confessed to over alcohol and steak whenever it was just the boys together. What a guy, right?
And despite his confident pronouncement to the contrary, his wife very pointedly did not find it funny at all and made an unambiguous statement on social media.
At least he was realistic about one thing: Only in his dreams would someone like Anne Curtis reciprocate his desires.
Dream the fuck on.
