Thursday, September 2, 2010

#5: A Moose Made Me Cry

I am still female. I take pleasure in window-shopping. I still ponder upon my outfit for the day. I still bask in the compliments of my husband. I cannot stand war movies. I still look forward to having a night out with girls of like mind the Lord has graciously peppered my life with.

However, I have a playful theory in my head: I was really meant to become a boy. I was in my mom's womb, about to grow my caboodle when the Lord probably realized, "Wait, I remember, I need to give Junn a wife! Kawawa naman, eh."

KABLAMMM!!!

I became a girl. I was supposed to be just the best friend but now I am also his wife. But a little too much testosterone had been injected in my body already. Perhaps that explains my flat chest, big ribs, narrow hips, my keen sense of direction and my aggressive (ask my husband), direct-to-the point outlook. Maybe that is why I get along with men better, even in the casual level; I appreciate the directness. I have a hard time weaving and unraveling guesswork in my conversations. Where other girls will be offended, I'll be ok. I enjoy being alone. In fact, I'd prefer to eat a quiet lunch alone in some carinderia, than be forced to lunch in some fast food with a bunch of sweet-smelling girls where I'll be forced to make small giggly talk.
I can't stand the:

 "Sige I'll have water lang. I'm dieting e."
 "Ay shucks, umuulan, mababasa sandals ko."
"Malayo ba lalakarin? Kayo na lang…"
"Samahan mo naman ako sa CR, please?"
"Is it ok if we sit first, I'm tired na e."
"Wag na muna tayong umalis, ang taas ng araw."

Spare me the pain.

Buti na lang, in God's sovereignty and wisdom, He deemed it fit for me to become a girl. Had I been male, I could have been one major jerk.


A moose made me cry last Wednesday.

Or maybe I am just particularly weak when it comes to torture. I'm fine with seeing someone shot in the head dead. Right away. But torture, the slow infliction of pain, that I can't stand.

In my distaste for the evil of torture, or violence on the whole, I am moved to write about this hideous website my pepper-speck friends showed me. It's a site with about 50 flash-based short animations about candy-colored animals in a candy-colored world experiencing extreme physical torment. Seeing the characters and artworks will make you think that the makers are cousins with Hello Kitty. But I was bowled over by the violence in it.

The episode I saw was about this moose who cut a tree. The tree fell on his direction and unfortunately, he just didn't die right away. A branch stood in the way between the tree and the moose. However, the branch also got his leg pinned in the ground. He can't get away so he decided to cut off his leg with the axe he was holding. But when he aimed, the head of the axe flew off. Ducking his hand in his pocket, he found a spoon. That is what he used to cut his leg. He stabbed on his leg the whole day, the whole night, trying to cut off the leg. Each stab is accentuated by his pained screams. In the end, after enduring torture, he discovers he cut off the wrong leg.

My immediate response was I laughed, because of the ridiculous stupidity. But I noticed that at the same time, I was also crying. It was only later that I was able to process it and discovered why I was crying. Because I was so freaking disturbed.

Why? Because I know that a lot of people find them cute. A lot of people find them horrifyingly gross. A lot of people find them funny. And altogether think IT IS OK. It pains me to know that KIDS can be lured by these cute creatures into thinking that slow infliction of pain, dismemberment and mangled bodies are actually fine. In fact they can be alternative entertainment if you got bored with MTV Jackass (please note the sarcasm). It is like screaming "HEY! FREE SNUFF FOR KIDS!" It made me cry until I got home.

Evil can come to you in so many different faces.

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