BAWAL UMIHI DITO

December 19th, 2010


” There was of course no way of knowing whether you were being watched at any given moment. How often, or on what system, the Thought Police plugged in on any individual wire was guesswork. It was even conceivable that they watched everybody all the time. But at any rate they could plug in your wire whenever they wanted to. You had to live—did live, from habit that became instinct—in the assumption that every sound you made was overheard, and, except in darkness, every movement scrutinized”  –  George Orwell,  1984

My former colleagues during the 2010 election campaign informed me that some people we have worked with before and are now the powers that be are alarmed and not happy with my postings on Facebook. Through them was conveyed a warning for me to go easy on what I write, particularly my criticisms of the present administration which we all helped install. Allegedly, critical posts on FB are being monitored, compiled and reported to whoever is concerned with such stalking job.

I would not like to believe this report and dismiss it as mere hearsay. How can people who don’t really give a shit about us suddenly become concerned about what we write on Facebook, and want to give us gag orders? But then what with this creature named Coloma and his Propaganda Office did to a volunteer FB account and its poor creator, is of any indication, the report may indeed have a grain of truth.

I am no stranger to this kind of veiled warnings. I had experienced far worse scenarios before. What is ironic is to hear such censorship and gag order at a period when we thought democracy is restored and its basic institutions strengthened; under a new regime where many of us helped and played important roles in installing because of its promise of reform and change. The last time I checked, we are still a democracy and we are free to express our opinion and write whatever we think is worth writing. That was just seven months ago.

I can now guess why some of the FB accounts of my other former colleagues, who were also a bit critical before, had suddenly transformed into bulletin boards of mundane pursuits. Pathetic, but then stupidity and sycophancy are the only options left for others in order to survive or maintain relevance. Different strokes for different folks.

My advice is, if my FB posts ruffle some people’s feathers and give them undue psychological stress, they can simply unfriend me, like I care. Or they can continue stalking my FB to their hearts’ content with the caveat of more rainshowers and thunder storms with chances of cyclones coming up ahead.

Finally, all I know is that 1984 is over, and it is MY Facebook. BAWAL UMIHI DITO!

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