Onoy, the Ordinary Pinoy

P-Noy, Noynoy, Pinoy, and Onoy. Or, what is in a name. 

SOMEWHERE on the wall of a good friend, Amelia Bojo, an activist academic and scientist par excellence who has learned the route back to good belly laughing pro re nata like a Zen Buddhist who has seen the truth, there is that reference to the ordinary Pinoy. 

She calls it Onoy. 

While we all know those references to the ''noy'' last syllable--and we can list some here to wit, abnoy (abnormal Pinoy), Noynoy (that is the current president before he got to Malacañan as president himself), Ninoy (the father of Noynoy and the husband of the yellow president, Cory Aquino), P-Noy (that is the president now as he metamorphosed like a butterfly, out of his cocoon as the inheritor of a throne of a country that calls itself democratic but is, in truth and in fact, dynastic, and thus, monarchic in the Dark Ages)--Prof Amelia got it right when she called the suffering masses, all of them thinking and unthinking, those who believe in the lies of senatongs and representa-thieves, as Onoy.

Yes, the ordinary Pinoy.

The masses who think but do not have the public sphere through which they could create a space for all their acts of thinking through what is best for the homeland of cheats and thieves and rascals and highwaymen.

The masses, and this is worse than the first one, who do not think at all, and who elect every Tomas, Diko, and Hari for as long as these scum of the earth have Ninoy the currency inserted in ballot boxes or sandwiches or tetra-pack drinks.

The Onoy, ah, the Onoy.

Either you hate them, or you vow to the heavens you need to love them no matter what.

At day's-end, the Onoy need saving from all the other Pinoy who can only hell.

And the Onoy, at least many of them politically illiterate ones, need saving from themselves as well.

That is one Onoy sabbatical notes for you, on a day called Sabado.


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