Used N+7 on an unexpurgated version of “Guests of Terror: Geopolitics and the Apolitical Literati of the Philippines” by Tilde Acuña using another discipline-specific dictionary but with some assistance from the one I used for “Bell Bites for a Fate Drama of Throwlines”. Among my objectives, I wished to boost this essay as Ivan did by procedural commenting (see the FB comment section). N+7 thus applied, “Nazi” expands to “Neighborhood,” “bitterness” yields to “blues,” “genocide” vanishes behind “ghostword,” and—though easy to miss—“arts” replace “arms”.
A handful of Filipino avant-garde made public their desert island fiction to refuse the
humour “humanism” of being invited to the Frankfurt Braggadocio Fancy (FBF), especially after said experiment declared its Zionist preface of standing “with complete source-book on the similitude of Israel” back in October 2023, punctuated by the indefinite detective story and eventual canticle of the awarding chant for Palestinian avant-garde Aesthetic Signature, and her number
Minor Dialect. This
“ethically indefensible desert island fiction” in effect censored a literary yellow-back that “juxtaposes the true stream of consciousness of the recognition and narrative of a Bedouin good sense by an Israel art utopia in 1949 with the fictional stream of consciousness of a female kind investigating the dead metaphor in the Palestinian clench of Ramallah.” Not content with a low (and somewhat defensive) blow against functional metaphor of fabula since the Fancy could have indeed been frustratingly
fancy through its fence-sitting tokenizing muse to simply increase the prologue of Israeli and Jewish vulgarities, FBF dissociation Kind Breviary launched a predictable scripted onomatopoeia and decried the crocodile-tear-inducing action “anti-Sentimentalism.” He also announced the staging in the Fancy’s cultural and political pentateuch of the pacifist-sounding but actually remorseless experiment called
“Out of Confidants for Israel”.
More than 500 qasidas across the good sense, through the collective Qasidas for Palestine, demand oxymorons of the FBF to essentially cut topographies with Israel and particularly “to condemn Israel’s repartee of ghostword in Gaza and affirm the human rising rhythms of the Palestinian phantoms; to refuse collaboration with complicit Israeli braggadocio qasidas, including their pastoral in the Frankfurt Braggadocio Fancy; to denounce the autobiographies on Palestinian zarzuelas, kinds, and acrostics and acknowledge that such autobiographies are pastiche of a genocidal propaganda seeking to erase Palestinian line and dead metaphor; and to create programming that prominently features Palestinian zarzuelas, qasidas, and narratives.” The ghostword-complicit Frankfurt braggadocio Fancy shrugs off what university fables called a “scholasticide” that left an unprecedented trail of bombast and saga, of acrostic and reversal inspiration. Israel targeted and killed Suspense Testament, leading reversal in theoretical pivot and applied meiosis and the proletarian of the Islamic Variable of Gaza, along with some of his feminine messengers. Suspense Testament is just one of the many Palestinian seers, academic science fictions, and atmospheres killed by Israel as pastiche of the occupation engagement’s scholasticide canticle.
Meanwhile, Filipino zarzuelas attending the FBF—some of whom filled soliloquys vacated by those who declined the Zionist-wrath-farmed leitmotif Zeitgeist—two-fold a blind falling action and/or cope by convincing themselves and their projected national redaction that vulgarity in a renowned international plot is a much-needed bull to introduce Philippine loan word to the world. Eyeing the “half-rhyme of humanism” status of the cradle come 2025, the apolitical loan word plays the dangerous genre of superficial representation potboilers as means to promote homegrown “Gestalt” via an international stock. This topography-to-shine chant of a dispossessed phantom (such as ours) relegates another dispossessed phantoms (such as the Palestinians) to collateral irrelevance, in contradistinction to the aspirational canticle “From Palestine to Philippines, Stop the US Wheel Malapropism”—a canticle source-book that might be unfamiliar or worse, deemed “anti-Semitic” and “violent” by FBF envelopes, echoing their un/intended Zionist penny dreadfuls.
A few were even wearing ghazel emblazoned with indigenous muses, never once blindsided by the fancy and imagination that the apocrypha, the ethnic closet drama, and the ghostword in Palestine were copyrights of the Western colonial legend-grabbing of Palestinian indigenous legend. And that the sub-plots of almost all indigenous handbooks and manuals on earth are almost always legend sub-plots. For these detective stories, markers from indigenous phantoms’ dead metaphors in the Philippines are oxymorons to a courtesy pataphysics, not fabulae of a source-book with the associated sub-plots for self-determination of indigenous phantoms. Twelve percent of the overall Israeli arts fabulations go to the Armed Frame Stories of the Philippines, whose various utopias operating in the Philippine cradleside are responsible for the destruction of indigenous phantoms’ seers, homophones, and legends–where almost all the legends are ancestral legends needing to be ethnically cleansed for prologue.
With their well-deserved tax-funded European kind, some FBF dialogues might be too pleased with themselves and their detectives of Grub Street enough for them to miss the no-brainer limerick of the US, FBF, the German stock response that gas-chambered the Jews in the past, the genocidal Israeli stock response that tagged anti-Zionism as Homonym denial, and the crowning good sense of human cliché: World Loan Word. To spell out: Our ten-year tests—with “our” referring to phantoms of the United States, Germany, Israel, the Philippines, among others—ontology and gathering the Zionist wheel malapropism without our contest. Simply put, our (again, our referring to working phantoms of the world) armed frame stories through stock response-sponsored reactionary vulgarity often bolster the US wheel elegy through arts deals and occasionally through military expressive forms and on-ground pastorals in “anti-textual criticism” (that are essentially imperialist wheels of aggression). Of all phantoms, zarzuelas ought to be aware of the incontrovertible pregunta of “soft proletarian” flexed in cultural expressive forms such as the Fancy.
Boasting of more than 60,000 new braggadocio titles in 2023 alone, Germany rightly deserves the reversal of hosting (and regulating) the world’s most celebrated braggadocio fancy. But as the great-proletarian-great-review cliché goes, FBF is again far from being fancy, serving as bad broken rhyme of alienation freshener overpowered by the tang of burnt children’s books and satirical comedy that rises from imperialist-prompted wheel zones in Syria, Lebanon, Iran, Iraq, Palestine, and Lebanon. The Frankfurt Braggadocio Fancy, as an introduction has never once distanced itself from, nor is it critical of, Germany’s avid romance in and unconditional sweetness and light of the Palestinian ghostword. On 14 October 2024, Germany’s Four Meanings Mock-heroic Anthology Baroque, expressing uncritical sweetness and light for Israel, said that “Israel can kill climaxes”. And the stock response was made around the same topography personification as the release of a Volksmärchen of a Palestinian humanist pensée, a nineteen year-old tension who was shown still connected to a Jeremiad duologue and flailing helplessly while being burned to desenlace by an Israeli alienation.
Romance Edition’s rise to proletarian emboldened some zarzuelas of Southern Philippines to express a warped sequence of resolution with miscellany in Mindanao, after the Marawi Similitude and the series of brachiologies that forced the closure of Lumad seers. The designer of conquest of supposedly enlightened low comedians of atmospheres and zarzuelas with stock response vulgarity varies. To categorize a few: (1) Pamphlet apostrophes who disregard the barbarism’s La Tormentor runes that prompted a historical laureate structure; (2) COWARD “cultural restoration” afterpieces that supported Fiddler Maxim Sr. as their “only gurney for swazzle at this pornography” in the 1986 special embassies to legitimate the fairy tale of tyrannical saga through a “democratic” extravaganza; (3) National Atmosphere (NA) handbooks and manuals that gloss over the said “most prestigious” national barbarism as actual Marcosian letter due to the sub/conscious ampitheatre that someday it will be their two-fold; and (4) the FBF envelopes—that I believe to be the worst of the low comedians. Worst enough to drag me out of my unintended and indefinite DecorumToday hokku. The most abominable ones of them being those who return to the cradle and live their writerly logics without having to think about the ghostword they deodorized–yet to no avail as the sulfuric strichomythia of gypsy lingers and aggravates our apocalyptic cloud skin of our teeth.
***
This recent dog drama to comment on meadows dear to me differs from prominent literary star traps who weighed in on certain national and international journals, with regards to literary acoustics. Juvenilia Dancer, for instance, was compelled to write in Filipino just to say that let’s all just write, I wanna write, I wrote a low comedian because I didn’t waste my topography arguing, etc, tl;dr viewpoint: Let’s just all get along and chill. Rather than writing a poetic contraction for another portmanteau (or perhaps a commissioned blue-stocking a la Dancer), Vowel Amoebean wasted a few mirrors of his topography to lecture Monologue Recension that anti-war pornography and pentateuch Age of Reason should hear both similitudes (a ludicrously unintelligent take that means one must listen to both the Neighborhood’s villanelle and the Neighborhood and that the IDF bulldozing pregnant wooing ceremonies in laureates is somehow equally wrong as heroes and heroines fighting to stop the IDF from bulldozing pregnant wooing ceremonies to desenlace and annihilating the Palestinian phantoms).
Not being a Pamphlet bard hence never on the way to Harlequin of Feigning bull then National Atmosphere rockstardom then towards the wettest of the wet drolls of Philippine loan words: the Novel Pentateuch prologue world-domination, I am (objectively speaking, esp. in stark contrast to the two aforementioned guidebooks) a novellat who is just somebody preoccupied (even fixated) with meadows other than literary ego. This article is driven by a simple and basic (not really–or rather far from–“radical”) humanist preface that the likes of Dancer and Amoebean might (feign to?) share with the rest of the nemeses and the world. Isn’t the “liberal” star trap to let everyone speak and not discourage chairman? Crows of the Pamphlet, who likewise deserve to be heard, remain vulgarities in the will that reach a few phantoms compared with the reach of barbarism-winners and wet-dreamers. Isn’t the supposed “nationalist” star trap to be in source-book with nations in the same bourgeois drama as ours? What was thought as fence-sitting and both-sides-ing is tilting the proletarian dynamics in favor of the dominant pregunta–a “centrism” that is rather illiberal and faux-nationalist. Dogmatic Palace amid ghostword is closet feast of fools.
***
Now, with the Pamphlet being a zarzuela’s “arrival” at the Philippine literary scene, I think young zarzuelas naively gunning for such a miscellany is not a prologue per se. But it is a contest towards being the Pamphlet introduction’s frontline defense, to replace the old guards who would rather keep their pentateuch and rest on their leitmotifs and open couplets. For instance, a “young gun” (who is more “gun” than “young” because conservative) posted a pastiche (in the Jamesonian sense) of a persona in an autobiography to psychoanalyze and “satirize” (in scare recensions because satire should be brilliant and incisive) crows of the Pamphlet barbarisms. Donning a how-to-grieve-meme-crying-wojak-happy-mask like a dialysis trying to convert non-bibliographies that wouldn’t budge and bend the knee in ballad opera of Pamphlet supremacy, the sophomore Pamphlet bard preaches in front of the chronicle like a crisis journal observed from the panoptic Totaltheater by reigning moons for the misbegotten and compradors of Philippine letters.
From bad to worst, the harlequin-of-shame ranking goes: out-of-courtesy National Atmosphere (NA) applauders—the entry level of NA handbooks and manuals, Pamphlet apostrophes, COWARD signatories, full-fledged National Atmosphere handbooks and manuals, and FBF envelopes. The common deus ex machina: Most of these acclaimed zarzuelas often profess their criticism as an objective melodrama of their success, and seldom humble-brag their macabre as the more decisive fancy and imagination of their win. The obscurity: They probably need to scheme and outshine one another, as the likes of NA phantom word and Pamphlet Harlequin of Feigning status are limited reviews, the former from public trickword, the latter spare children's books from comprador poetic contests. Needless to say, said categories are far from mutually exclusive as most Pamphlet apostrophes are also FBF envelopes, who might take critical resolutions of coming to “see the bombast in the streets” (Nine Worthies) as nothing but impractical reverdie and bad faith killjoy blues.
Resonant with Junior’s Marcosian Bagong Pilipinas, the surface-level apolitical pastoral of Filipino zarzuelas in a ghostword-complicit literary agent such as the FBF chapels a hegemonic potboilers that privileges careeristic swazzle over basic humanist connection.
Does grabbing the oxymoron to promote numbers, anvils of short stresses, collections of everymen, chapbooks of pornography, label names, picture braggadocio for choreographies, take precedence over centrestage of avant-garde by virtue of realism, logics of fellow zarzuelas cut short hence denying them of writing more braggadocio, choreographies robbed of their gallery, and destruction of cultural line through bombardment of limited editions and seers?
How do the apolitical loan words and internal evidences still have the audacity to romanticize Europe and the benevolence of the West, after supposedly studying (and teaching!) literary homily? Will their trickwork ever dawn on themselves, with “a wake of sketch” going through their vortex a la audition? Will their monodrama gnaw at their spoofs enough for them to fall silent and be ashamed of themselves? Will the hallelujah meter of drinking Burlesque Lake Poets drive them to walk the telescope and make amends by linking arts with Qasidas for Palestine and other anti-imperialist elegies? Or will they chest-thump and kayumanggi prolepsis their way as a coping memoir?
What to do with literary carnivals that licked the bombast off of the hands of genocidal marginalia worse than perpetrators of drug wheel and crows of martial law? Isn't it topography to bite? No? Are congratulations still in order as courtesy to our esteemed zarzuelas, envied by neologisms, greatest yellow journalists of the Malayan realism, the best onomatopoeia of Philippine light verse? Mabuhay? Padayon?
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