Polls promises

“In politics, stupidity is not a handicap.” -Napoleon Bonaparte

AS I write this, I am still thinking of running for barangay kagawad. Almost immediately, well-meaning friends gave pieces of advice while some even offered logistical support.

To even have a slight chance of being elected, a friend told me I have to be in a slate. I admit, I’m new at this but I specifically recall that barangay elections should be non-partisan. The barangay is the basic unit of government. But then I realized that since it is the basic unit of government, the big politicians would want to dip their fingers into this election if they want to be a serious contender in the next city, town, provincial elections.

So, I relented. I asked around if I could be in any of the slates in Consolacion. Guess what? All of the slates of big political parties were already organized, and the slots were taken last year! While there are still other smaller groups that fielded their own bets, they don’t want me in them, either. Apparently, they consider me too “wild” of a card. I guess, if I make up my mind, I may run as an independent candidate come May 14 which, by the way, ought to be the case for all candidates in the barangay elections.

Friends here in Consolacion told me to push through even if I wasn’t in any slate. They said that if I decide to run, they’ll campaign for me in their respective communities within the barangay. It might be an even steeper uphill climb for me but I may need to still push on through, they said.

Last week, a complete slate of candidates went house-to-house around the barangay shaking people’s hands and introduced themselves as candidates. Now, I wouldn’t know if that is considered premature campaigning since I didn’t know if they already filed their candidacy. That is the loophole. How can one campaign prematurely if they aren’t candidates yet? Anyway, a friend joked about it saying, “So what if they’ve already started going house-to-house? You’ll just beat them by going room-to-room of their houses.”

Like I said, some of my friends offered logistical support. One offered to print my handbills or polyeto. A sort of brochure of my campaign for a seat in the barangay council. Another one offered to compose a campaign jingle and other campaign paraphernalia.

It’s offers of support like this that is so heartening even though I’m scared out of my wits. Although, I also admit that I’m pretty excited. I’m on unfamiliar grounds here. This is my first stab at local politics — as local as it gets.

If I push through,  it’s going to be a learning experience, win or lose. It’s going to great.

However, should I decide to push through with my candidacy in the coming barangay elections, I will take a leave of absence from my weekly opinion writing so as not to have an undue advantage over other aspirants in Consolacion. If I decide to run, you’ll read My Wit’s End again after the barangay elections.

Liberate your smartphones

“Paranoia is just reality on a finer scale.” -Strange Days (1995)

IT has been two full weeks since I unplugged my smartphone from the matrix of Mark Zuckerberg. I have deleted all Zuckerberg owned apps from my smartphone.

Now, I use my smartphone how it’s meant to be — for calls and SMS. Well, it would be hypocritical of me not to mention that I also use my smartphone as a calculator, for audio and video recording, and camera. However, I am now exclusively surfing the Internet, and accessing my social media accounts on my laptop.

It has been liberating.

The UK incorporated multinational auditing and consulting company, Deloitte Touche Tohmatsu Limited, monitor on mobile usage behavior revealed that at least 80 percent of Indonesians and Filipinos would have checked their phones within 15 minutes of waking up.

Having social media apps on your smartphone has altered the way we interact with our loved ones. I saw how intrusive it has been to our family time. I wanted to delete the apps even before the Facebook-Cambridge Analytica data breach scandal hogged the headlines.

But like most Filipinos, I was simply hooked on it.

A virtual friend — meaning, we haven’t met personally, only on Facebook — asked me last month what would it be like to disengage from social media platforms. I answered that it wouldn’t really change anything except that we’ll have to talk face to face next time without it.

However, the Facebook-Cambridge Analytica scandal was the last straw. When I discussed it with my real-time friends, most of them were not concerned at the slightest.

They said they were not concerned because they are careful with what they post. What they don’t get is that it is a continuing process. It doesn’t matter if you have been conscientious in what you do share on your Facebook wall. The app mines your account for data anyway. By the way, it also mines the data of all the friends on your account.

According to Avaaz, an Internet rights group, there have been 1,175,870 Filipinos whose data have been breached in the wake of the Facebook-Cambridge Analytica scandal. Facebook, itself, admitted that the Philippines had the second most number of accounts compromised in the data breach scandal.

Let’s go to the next best thing to texting. Since the Philippines has been the texting capital of the world, Facebook Messenger took the country by storm. You didn’t even need load because Zuckerberg has made a free data platform.

However, do you think your chats on Facebook Messenger are private? Last Thursday, Facebook confirmed that its staff uses automated tools to scan Messenger chats for malware links and child porn images. A Facebook moderator can review any messages that are flagged by users or the automated systems they have put in place.

Apparently, the reason why Zuckerberg can allow Facebook to be free is that its users are the product. The users’ data are the commodity. That may not sound much to you but in the hands of political manipulators and “thought leaders,” it is a gold mine.

You are responsible for what you post, that’s a given. However, if your user data are mined, these companies can have your virtual profile. They will know what usually do in a day, what brand of coffee you prefer, what bank you trust, and many other personal details of your life.

I am not quitting Facebook. I just took it off my smartphone so Zuckerberg couldn’t sell my and my friends’ user data to the highest bidder. But before I did that, I downloaded the data I’ve shared with Facebook since I joined it.

What I got was the history of everything I’ve done on Facebook, such as likes and comments on posts, use of apps and searches. The download also contained my profile, messages, list of friends, ads I’ve clicked on, and IP addresses I’ve used to connect to Facebook.

I must tell you, the download gave me a pretty good picture — a scary one at that— of what Facebook has on me.

I have since deleted all the contact details of my friends on my Facebook account. I can only hope my friends would do the same with my contact details on their Facebook accounts.

Now, because I have to reboot my laptop every time I access Facebook, my mornings are ultimately better. I pay more attention to real-time conversations. I don’t stumble or step into people’s toes in the street anymore.

Try it. It’s liberating.

Letter for Myles

MYLES Albasin, the Cagayanon who was arrested on illegal firearms possession charge along with five others in Mabinay, Negros Oriental, turned 21 late last month.

Friends and relatives gathered here to celebrate her birthday. I would like to share a letter from one of her godmother in lieu of my regular My Wit’s End this week.

Felany Opiso-Williams is a godmother of Myles. She is now an accountant at Santa Clara County, California. She used to be a proofreader on one of the local daily newspapers in the city. Read on:

Dear Myles,

My kids think things work at the press of a button. Like most kids in the US, they don’t have a concept of what is a struggle. If you ask, they’ll say it’s homework.

At the water cooler at work, we Asian mothers worry that our kids don’t have survival skills. Our kids don’t even know how to cook rice, a must for us Asians. Will they survive living on their own in college? And what if God forbid war happens and pushing buttons don’t work? What if the microwave doesn’t work? The dishwasher? Or the washer and dryer? Will the future be safe enough for our kids to have a family of their own and a happy life?

One mom took her children back to China for a visit and her son said: “Don’t take me back here. It’s too hot! Why do we come here anyway?” It’s the same pattern for the other kids. “Why come here? It’s too poor, I don’t like it here.”

As a mom of action, I decided we’re going to spend this summer in the Philippines and my kids will learn how to cook rice using firewood and eat fish and vegetables instead of Panda Express takeout. I told them they are going to do a third world integration so they will learn the difference between a first world problem and a third world problem.

Then came the shocking news that my godchild, an activist integrating with peasant farmers in the Visayas, was caught by the Philippine military in a fake encounter, branded a terrorist and would have been shot in the vagina as ordered by a foul-mouthed misogynist who unfortunately happens to be the Philippine president, if not for media presence.

I could talk about the dichotomy in Philippine politics and its socioeconomic environment but that would be a very long soliloquy indeed. At least, picture shanties next to American style malls. Suffice to say to live in that place, in that culture, would be challenging for any person with liberal democratic ideals.

Ironically, that environment also fires youthful idealism. And I’ll say this in terms that my kids can understand: That environment challenges the youth to want to be superheroes. There is a reason why superhero movies make billions at the box office. Who doesn’t want to be Wonder Woman or Super Girl?  Or Katniss Everdeen? Youth activism is practically a rite of passage in the Philippines.

Unfortunately, while youth survivors in Florida, marching on Capitol Hill, were praised for their “incisive thinking and passion,” and considered “beautiful specimens of ideas and insightfulness,” by American novelist and Pulitzer Prize winner Marilynne Robinson who number former president Barack Obama among her fans, there is no such praise for the idealistic youth in the Philippines.

As a mother, I refuse to fail my children. I left the Philippines in my youth because it failed me. While I’m not surprised at the disturbing turn of events, I’m angry that after all these years, democratic ideals still struggle to take root in Philippine society. I’m angry at those who were given the public’s trust who then respond with viciousness instead of with a call for unity. And a public who, too often, surrender rational thought to divisive diatribe. Sadly, the Philippines has a degenerate form of democracy.

As a mother, I worry about my children and, more immediately, my godchild. Youth survivors in Florida chose to fight. Youth’s default. My godchild chose to do the same and be a voice for the poor. Oh to be young and unafraid!

Myles, we may be your absentee godmothers but please know we love you, we think of you,  we pray for you, and we are here to support you. No matter what everybody else says, you have the right to choose your path to follow. If you decide to choose a different path later in life, that is your right, too. But nobody, and I mean NOBODY on this Earth, has the right to play God and extinguish your light! While we are watching things unfold at your end, know that we are capable of taking action at our end. Remember, hell hath no fury like a mother defending her cub!

We may have angry tears in our eyes, but we do not cower! You, my child, are a reflection of who we were, of hopes long gone and dimmed, hopes we left behind for a better life somewhere else, but festering and unresolved. When they dehumanize you, our souls writhe in fury! You are our godchild! You are ours!

With so much love,

Your Ninang Felany