Society already has an established framework on certain things and beliefs. The set of principles that was thought to us by our parents have contributed to this framework. Our experiences that created the very fiber of our beliefs also have been a factor. Such framework, along with how we were raised and how our environment shaped us are the foundations of what we can become in the future, but what happens such foundations are shaken?
Weeks earlier, Mideo Cruz showcased his artworks in an exhibit named Kulo in the Cultural Center of the Philippines (CCP). His artwork was a mixed-media gallery of sculptures, magazine cutouts, paintings, printed out quotes, images of political figures, tin cans, images of the Messiah and condoms – a technique known as installation art.
Maybe you can get a picture of what Mideo Cruz wanted to depict.
Kulo was Cruz’s latest creation; it featured a picture of the Messiah glued and stapled with political symbols and a torn, stretched out condom. One could guess that society would be in rage with this work alone, but it gets “worse.” His most controversial work was the image of the Messiah with a protruding male organ on the forehead.
A week after this exhibit, society took it upon its shoulders to police this “act of malevolence” and had the exhibit shut down. The government threatened CCP that if they did not close it immediately, either their budget would be cut, or they would close the museum completely.
Imelda Marcos, despite the artist’s obvious detestation against the Aquino government in his artworks, showed her disgust and dissent for the artist. Karen Davila went as far as saying, “This is not art. This is the creation of a man who clearly does not think well. Art is supposed to be created with hard work. This is just intended to insult.”
Surprisingly, he was not given as much discord nor did he raise social repulsion for his earlier work, Poletisimo, which patched up political figures with rosaries on the wall, or Poon, which revealed a horrendous statue of the Messiah made to look like a clown.
Another less infamous, yet shares a great deal of infamy among many nationalists and Internet bandwagons, is James Soriano, a columnist for the Manila Bulletin. Soriano’s “hate mail” has come from his column, Language, learning, identity, privilege and his weblog entry Filipino as a second language.
Soriano talks about pride in being well-versed in the English language, how it is the “language of the learned” and how the Filipino language is the “language of the streets.” Both of his works exude English as the practical language since it is the language of the world. That being said, English is the language of trade and education in the Philippines. Our laws are not even written in Filipino.
Lo and behold, he trended in the comments of social networking sites, either being defended or flamed.
Sometimes, when we are shown the truth, it shakes our very foundations. We become venerable that maybe what we believe in is not all that there is. The security of our mental state lies in the balance between believing in the truth for what it is, or keeping what we had all along in a box never to be opened.
For the people who reacted violently at Cruz’s Kulo, they are angry at the very sins they commit. While they shout “anakngdemonyo” to Mideo Cruz, they also disfigure the image of God in their daily lives. On a political note, the Church messes with the affairs of the state, and sometimes, the incumbent drives their political legitimacy from religion.
For those who clamor to put down Soriano, can’t they see the underlying argument that Soriano makes? Is it not true that the Filipino language is a hodgepodge of different languages labeled under one name?
As people, we begin to question when we are shaken down to our core. It makes us question just who we really are, and when we question, we should look for the answers. If we stop at just questioning, we become the final arbitrators of good and bad; it all boils down to pride-play.
I am not asking that we be sacrilegious or political activists, nor am I saying that we should translate every English word we know to its Filipino counterpart. What I’m saying is, we must not cage our selves in our own worlds, and hope that this is the only world we should believe in.
To both Cruz and Soriano, the truth set them free – free of societal labels, free of imaginary glass box, free enough to see that not everyone around them is free.
