They say the only reason Filipinos stay sane even when their world has fallen apart is their ability to laugh at themselves and to find humor in any situation they’re in. It is also true that once Pinoys stop laughing… then there’s trouble brewing.
I think that is the flip side to our resilient natures. We are far more flexible than the bamboo, our patient souls much more yielding and pliable than clay; our tortured consciousness so easily appeased… but everything has a breaking point. When the inevitable cannot be denied its moment.
If Marx believed religion is the opiate of the masses, then I declare that laughter is the shabu of the filipino massess. But why are some people still laughing? Are they laughing with us or at us? Do we still find our situation amusing?
Or could it be that we stopped caring a long time ago?
Or could it be that we have started lying to ourselves?
Or could it be that we have been reduced to the fulfillment of the most basic of needs: survival?
Or could it be that we have drowned in our own sorrows?
Or could it be our fear of the silence that follows after the laughter has died? The realization that something has to be done, that someone has to do something.
The realization that the inevitable has no punchline.
