The Network

"M. Butterfly" had its last stage run at the university theater. After an all-out performance, the cheers from the audience brought out big smiles from the cast who made their final bow.

Made up with thick mascara and grinning ear to ear was Juan Salinel, JS to his friends, who played the part of the man clueless about the true gender of his beautiful Chinese lover. JS had his eye on muscle guy Doni Grio, who fleshed out the wildly seductive title role of the play. It's a strange way of life imitating art, only in reality, Doni was the one who had yet to discover JS' true self.
At the climax of "M. Butterfly", the timid Doni disrobed to reveal his manhood to JS. That was the point JS discovered true love may be blind, but he was not about to let the small detail of Doni being endowed with a penis get in the way of their happiness. That was how the play went though JS felt and knew it was not just acting anymore.
Everyone from the cast and the crew was in a mood to celebrate. After all the hard work that went into "M. Butterfly", booze and pot were just rewards. At the end-season party for their theater troupe, Doni was determined to get wasted, and JS was determined to get laid.
Gwen, a stagehand, was oblivious from all the revelry around him, sitting at the corner brooding with his cup of caffe latte. Doni, his bestfriend, went up to him to force him into drinking beer and smoking a little pot but he would have none of it. Gwen could already tell it's going to be a long night. He's used to cleaning up after Doni, and always driving him home when Doni's too drunk to even piss standing straight.
After the party broke up, Gwen was dragging Doni to his car when JS played the Samaritan. JS lived just outside the university campus, and offered his bedroom with two beds in it for Doni and Gwen. It was an offer too good to pass up. Gwen drove straight to JS' place.
Gwen and JS had each of the unconscious Doni's arms slung around their necks, as they carried him to bed. JS removed Doni's shoes and went to his closet to get more blankets and pillows.
It was past 5 in the morning and Gwen can see the first rays of the sun through the bedroom windows. Far from sleepy, he sat on the chair near the opening to see the sunrise. He turned his eyes to his sleeping friend and he was taken aback.
Down on his knees and all over his friend was JS whose tongue was trying to coax the life from Doni's dead dick. No matter how rabidly JS tried to get Doni hard, (expertly, as Gwen observed) the alcohol and the pot smoke just won't let him. JS pulled Doni's string underwear and shorts back to his waist and laid on the other bed.
JS was muttering to himself repeatedly, "Hindi ko siya pababayaan, aalagaan ko siya (I will never neglect him, I will take care of him)". JS drifted off to sleep.
That was a scene Gwen tried so hard to push from his mind. He is pissed at JS for letting him see the whole thing, and pissed at himself for falling for what he thought was JS' trap. Disgusted, he decided to leave immediately, even if it meant leaving Doni with JS.
In his own bed, away from the maddening scene, Gwen was still pissed, and now torn. Should he tell Doni's girlfriend, Happy, who is also a very close friend, about the lick-dick incident? He tried to sleep it all off, but the memory lingered even in his dreams.

(This is a work of fiction.)

Amuyong

You don’t kill your brother.

You don’t torture him. And you don’t leave him for dead.

True brothers never mean or do you harm. They stand by you when you’re down, no matter what. Even when you’re a cold corpse by their own hand.

Twenty year old U.P. Public Administration student Cris Anthony Mendez (http://profiles.friendster.com/5768535) found out the hard way earning the right to call someone “brother” isn’t it all it’s cracked up to be. It cost him his life. He was a seeker of the right connections in the wrong company.

At the University of the Philippines, Greek alphabet societies had not always been the harbingers of death and bloody rumbles.

Fraternities formed a core underground resistance when the university was under the cloud of Martial Law back in the early 1970’s. They kept political discourse alive when the government cracked down on the right to assemble and to organize.

Fear of infiltration from the military forced fraternities to recruit in secrecy. Many adapted elaborate initiation rites, some borrowed from their foreign counterparts and some from military organizations themselves, to ward off potential spies.

That tradition is carried on today. Joining a fraternity is one of the most prestigious and exclusive experiences in university campus life. It’s by strict invitation only, at least for the more reputable societies. The brothers pick you. You don’t pick them.

The invitation is very discreet, though the mere presence of a recruit in a fraternity’s tambayan gives it away. A recruit who has agreed to go through the initiation is not allowed to tell anyone, not his friends, and not even, or specially, his own mother.

It all starts with being an amuyong, the fratman’s moniker for a neophyte. The term is rooted in pre-Hispanic Philippine history, when men turn to servitude as peons to pay off debts. In street lingo, amuyong has come to mean a moocher, a low-life who has absolutely no stake in anything. But in today’s frat culture, it means paying homage to the masters, the full fledged members who will determine and will test a novice’s worth before becoming one of them.

The masters have one goal during the whole initiations: to make an amuyong’s life a living hell. No if’s and but’s about it, and no mercy. It’s supposed to be the crucible that separates the men from the boys, and the fire that purifies the man to be worthy of the company of brothers.

Too bad that tradition of nobility is lost on the slayers of Cris Mendez. Fratmen call non-members of Greek alphabet societies “barbarians”, but taking the life of another specially one who will become their own, shows a far worse act of barbarism. It’s abomination.

Cris Mendez was man enough to trust his so-called would-be brothers with what they’re doing. The brothers have to be man enough to own up to their own mistake.