It's the 70s and you still don't know that 40 years later you'd be holding a sleek gadget no bigger than a cigarette pack which enables you, among other things, to connect to people all over the world and record a private act that might just turn into a sex scandal, giving you a ticket to fame or infamy.
Yes, I digress.
It’s the 70s and you still don’t know what techno-based fear is and the panic it creates every time you forget to bring your phone or your memory stick, or you realize your laptop is about to run empty in the middle of a presentation, at a place that suffers from a power outage.
Again, I digress.
It’s the 70s and your fears are real. Which is to say, scary.
When you don’t feel like taking dinner because you’re still full or you don’t like the viand, what does your mother tell you?
”Don’t you know that when you go to bed without eating, your soul will leave your body to look for food? Now, imagine what will happen if an envious cat pushes the lid back to its place and traps your soul inside the kettle where it is eating?”
Shivers!
After force-feeding you daily for months with multi-vitamins and still you remain no fatter than a string bean, your mother finally knows why: you’ve been hosting in your scalp and hair wingless insects that feed exclusively on your blood!
When this happens, it’s “goodbye playing with friends; hello nit picking with mother.” There’s no torture more brutal than having your mother make you sit still and hang your head low as she rids your scalp and hair with obligate ectoparasite while your friends play outside, their laughter ringing in your ear.
You complain. You throw a tantrum. You cry. But what does your mother tell you?
“Okay, you can go out and play. Just be ready because the lice in your head might fly and carry you to Mancagangi.”
Shivers!
No matter the repeated reprimands and reminders, there are times that you still go home after the church bell has rung the oracion. This time it’s your father: Pray the m---s won’t catch you because if they do, then may God have mercy on your soul.
Then he launches on to this story: Imelda Marcos needs thousands of kids as peace offering to the sea god because her pet project, the San Juanico Bridge, has caused the fortuitous death of the queen mermaid when a drill hit her in the navel. Imelda is given a deadline to do atonement else she would grow scales and become Dyesebel. It is said that she's so desperate she hires a good number of m---s to go all over the Philippines to kidnap kids.
Shivers!
(More next time.)
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