I've been reading three poetry chapbooks (or zines) by Aris Remollino: Manhid (DWB Publishing Philippines, 2024); Gabi, Umaga, Sinigang (Alagwa Books, 2025); and Mga Madaling-araw sa 7-Eleven (Alagwa Books, 2025). Four, if you count his flash fiction zine, the playfully titled Wansapanataymderwaseylabistori (Alagwa Books, 2025).
Manhid (Apathy) is probably the best of the lot, a powerful collection about the nightmare world of heinous killings under the Duterte regime. In "Konsensya" (Conscience), the gun as a metaphor for man, and vice versa, is a dueling image that questions what triggers the human capacity to end a life: "Hindi dapat / maging tao / ang baril." (The gun should / not become / a man.). The reversal of that statement at the end of the poem (The man should / not become / a gun.) is the inversion of personification: the depersonalization of the man as shooter, the anthropomorphizing of tragedy, of violence itself.
Other favorite poems in the zine (actually, all of them): "Eskenita" (Alley), with its fiery image at the end where the gunman, puffing on his cigarette, sets his head on fire; and "Troll" with its manifesto-like depiction of the language of tyranny:
Hindi totoo ang totoo,
kung ayaw ng Pangulo.
Totoo ang hindi totoo
kung ibig ng Pangulo.
(The truth is not true
if the President says so.
The lie is the truth
if the President deems it so.)
The President, the ultimate troll-master, controls the narrative. The import of his words spells life and death, as in the poem's final lines:
Mabubuhay kayo
kung ibig ng Pangulo.
Mamamatay kayo
kung ayaw ng Pangulo.
(You shall live
if the President commands.
You shall die
if the President demands.)
In their insightful essay Mula sa Panahon ng Epektibong Komunikasiyon, isang rejoinder sa bokabularyo ng dalawang Duterte (From the Era of Effective Communication, a rejoinder on the vocabulary of the two Dutertes), Carlo Paulo Pacolor locates the virulence of the Dutertes' and their troll-minions' (messenger/apparatus) extraordinary meta-narratives in the virality and absurdity of the message (content):
Sa hyper na realidad ng digital/internet/artificial intelligence, ang duplikasiyon ng wangis, ang siyang pinaka-atraksiyon sa pagkakatulad-tulad, ay isa lamang hakbang sa mas pinalawak na ekspresiyon ng pagdanas sa sarili. Kung bagahe ng organikong taong nilalang ang pagsusuma ng politikal at historikal, sa artipisyalidad ng digital ay pwede niya itong i-"unpack" – ikaw ang user, ikaw ang vlogger, ikaw ang mismong avatar, sa siste na produkto ka ng isang libreng plataporma (Facebook, Tiktok, X, Youtube). Ikaw iyon na hindi ikaw. Kaya ikaw rin na hindi ikaw ang troll, ang shitposter, ang alter, ang influencer, ang edgelord sa comment section, ikaw ang DDS, ang kakampink, ang lurker.
* * *
Viral ang brand ng Duterte, kumalat at pinakalat, literalisasiyon din baga ng memetic quality ng anumang ideya, hindi dahil sa popularidad mismo (content), kun'di sa pinaka-behikulo na nagpapa-popularisa (apparatus); para itong earworm, tunog na hindi maalis-alis sa iyong kukote, at kahit hindi ka naman pukáw ng lyrics ay bakit mo nga rin kabisado? "My god, I hate drugs" ang isang halimbawa ng viral gag na hindi mo pwedeng basahin nang hindi gamit ang boses ni Tatay Digong kahit anong gawin mo, isama na rin ang hanggan-hanggan niyang ekstemporanyo bawat hatinggabi no'ng kasagsagan ng Covid-19 pandemic. Ang virality ng Duterte ay hindi mula sa duplikasiyon at reproduksiyon ng wangis; ginawang pamarisan, sa halip, at nanormalisa ang pagdistrungka sa mga nakasanayang gawi nang pagtanggap sa impormasiyon para panlansag sa kritikalidad na mula naman sa paggamit ng evidentiary facts na siyang nagtataguyod sana ng pagkalinga sa katotohanan. Nanlunod ng atakeng spam ang mga trolls, DDS man o hindi, at nagkatawang avatar ang kanilang kinatawan sa pinakamapanikis nitong pagsasakatawan: kung mamaril ang kanyang mga pulis, dahil kasi nanlabán ang biktima, at mula sa direktang wika ng isang Tatay Digong na siya ang sasalo ng sisí sa anumang paglabag, sabay na naabswelto ang nagsakatawan ng utos na pandarahas, at napawalambisa pa nga ang mismong pandarahas. Habang ang biktima ng krimen? "If you die, I'm sorry (not sorry)."
There's a lot to unpack in Carlo Paulo Pacolor's arguments, but their point about the twisting of truth (deception) to conform to the fictive narrative is embodied in the chilling poems of Manhid like "Troll" and "Sabi-sabi" (Rumors), where Aris Remollino gave voice to the mastermind of the killings himself.
The poems in Manhid are a powerful, anthemic record of a brutal regime, and a reminder that the gun, the troll, and the killer are someone in power, and they are also every one who falls prey to (or is deceived by) the slippery, double-edged language of evil. Our inability to parse truth from lie, dignity from cruelty, enabled a regime to spout propaganda as part of its "effective communication," emboldened it to take so many lives. Perhaps only poetry can unmask the avatars of our folly.
Below are three poems I translated from each zine.
* * *
The title poem from Manhid:
Apathy
Killing is easy.
Just rip out the heart
from every part
of your body.
Rip out the heart
from your feet:
Anything you trample on,
you can crush.
Rip out the heart
from your hands:
Anything you hold,
you can strangle.
Rip out the heart
from your eyes:
Anything you see,
you can burn.
Rip out the heart
from inside your mind:
All your problems,
you can obliterate.
Killing is easy.
Just rip out the heart
from your body:
It will be easy to snatch
hearts from other bodies.
* * *
from Gabi, Umaga, Sinigang (Night, Morning, Sinigang):
Rain
Like quarters,
the rain jingles
on the roof
of your home.
Each drop
slips into
the cracks
of your mind.
Water flows,
leaks through
the broken gutters
of your being.
* * *
Untitled lines from Mga Madaling-araw sa 7-Eleven (Early Mornings at 7-Eleven):
The clock slowly nibbles
on the bread of opportunities.
* * *
I entered the last one in Microsoft Copilot. The AI runs wild with it.
