I have always been critical of class distinctions in this blog. For the longest time, I evaded any real critical words particularly for those who hail from a social class less fortunate than my petty bourgeoisie. I still remember that playful post of mine that got some pretty amusing jests from the rest of the blogosphere.

But because of what happened last night until early this morning I will play the bias card and condemn the jologs. We were there when Loverage 3 happened, expecting to reminisce the good old UP Fair days that we enjoyed back when we were undergrads. But they spoiled it. They spoiled what could’ve also been a reunion of our college barkada, some of whom we have not seen for two years.

I will not go to the details of what happened that night as our barkada spent most of it split into smaller groups and our experiences varied in the specifics. My sister, Dyosa, and their friend Jasmin, were at the band crowd while Bryan, myself, and Risha decided to go booth hopping. Jojo and Kyam weren’t even able to secure tickets as they arrived so they just decided to go home. Good thing our little group stumbled upon Asid, our long-lost friend who is studying medicine, with whom we were supposed to reunite as a barkada.

There so many bad points about the fair night. The queues were horribly long. With the queues separate for men and women, Bryan and I queued up for nearly two hours before we got in. As the night drew on, the crowd grew thicker and thicker. You need not be a bigot to tell that majority of the crowd were not UP.

Then it happened. The popular bands played their stuff. Bricks and water bottles flew. The galvanized iron sheet barricades wobbled. The organizers repeatedly pleaded with the crowd to “settle down” and “behave.” But quite honestly, they were only greeted by shouts of “Di ka namin maintindihan. Mag-Tagalog ka kasi, gago!” 2 AM and the organizers just called it quits.

It was chaos and for most of the night, I had that sick “I might die tonight” feeling. I loathed every last one of them black-wearing, bangs-dangling, and multi-pierced jumping jolog in there. There, I said it.

But is this fair? Who should we really blame for this travesty?

Ourselves? For even hoping that the UP Fair can give us that special night similar to what we previously enjoyed.

The organizers? For placing profit over common sense. For jampacking the venue to the brim then denying entry when the crowd has swelled past critical mass. For fucking up the logistics.

The bands? For not even trying to appease their legions. (In my honest opinion, they’re the only reasons the jologs attend the UP Fair.)

Still, the jologs? For being the crude, rude, and inconsiderate mob that they were.

I believe it was a defining moment for the UP community. We have always regarded ourselves as the future leaders of the country, the advocates of democracy, and the protectors of our fellow Filipinos especially the masa. Last night was different though. It was clearly us versus them. The educated versus morons. The burgis versus the masa. This criticism shares the same play on semantics of labeling as the April-May 2001 protests with “EDSA 3″ versus “the May 1 Siege.” It’s still the same rift between the middle and lower class.

This event, I think, will come under great scrutiny of the University officials. In the advent of crimes committed to members of the academic community by “outsiders” (the Veteran’s Bank robbery, the rapes, the thefts and robberies, etc…), I think that they will be considering “closing” the University and limiting its access to UP people. Sure, we’ll be like Ateneo or any other coño private campus, but check the demographics today. What’s the difference?

Check out these other posts:

1. Bring on the bigotry
2. “Jologs” and Pinoy rock
3. High school and open parties: Condemning the coños
4. UP Fair and I hope no one dies this time around
5. Beware of what you wear: more on “jologs”