Thursday, December 20, 2007

• CERRITOS FLIPPED OUT WORLDWIDE

  Currently Listening All We Know Is Falling By Paramore see related

  There is a highly popular show on MTV right now called A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila.  The premise of the show is fairly intriguing.  It’s an ongoing game/reality show in which a group of contestants, which is made up of straight men and Lesbians, vie for the affection of Tila Tequila, the show’s Vietnamese American, bisexual (and, thus, suggestively erotic, I guess) superstar.  The antics and hijinks that occur in the show are admittedly entertaining, and it helps me forget the fact that I’m pretending to know why she is famous.  She wasn’t particularly successful as a model (unless you consider posing for nude websites “modeling”), and her music career is floundering at best.  I suppose her rise to fame is due to her sex appeal, but even that’s something that I can’t really appreciate.  Don’t get me wrong; she has a killer body.  But her face reminds me of Brak the alien from Space Ghost Coast to Coast.  She is a world-class butterface.

  Regardless of my opinion, Tila Tequila is currently considered hot by many Americans (well, at least according to select white boys and female queers).   She might be genuinely attractive, but she might also be a product of the current trend that Vietnamese chicks are hot.  Trends like this aren’t anything new in the Asian American community as various ethnic groups have taken turns being “in style”.  The Japanese were in style during the 60s and 70s, and it’s speculated that Koreans were in style during the early 2000s.  I do not know if the Chinese were ever in style (although Chinese food made a resurgence in the mid 90s), but I do know that Filipinos were the coolest people alive during the 80s and 90s.  (As comical as this paragraph may sound, it’s almost 100% accurate that Asian American ethnicities do go in and out of style.  This is something I’ve discussed at length with my friend Julie.  She’s a sociologist, which means she knows more about this stuff than you or I.  If you have issues with any of this, you can message her here.)

  The fact that Vietnamese people are “in” means that Filipinos are “out”.  This doesn’t necessarily make me sad (actually, it strikes no emotive response from me), but, as a Filipino American who spent almost the entirety of my youth in the 80s and 90s, it makes me wonder why.  I have nothing against Vietnamese people; I think they’re fantastic and beautiful, and, I suppose, they have every right to be “in style” right now.  However, when I was growing up, Filipinos were really popular.  It was even considered cool to have a Filipino boyfriend or girlfriend(!).  Filipinos were the best looking; Filipinos spoke the best English; Filipinos were the best dancers, DJs, and singers; Filipinos were the best dressed; Filipinos were the best artists; Filipinos told the best jokes; Filipinos were the only Asians who weren’t afraid of black people.  The list goes on and on.  Filipinos were just pretty damn cool.

  Now, this portrayal of Filipinos in the 80s and 90s probably isn’t real.  It’s possible that it’s just my own skewed perception of my generation that resulted from growing up in Cerritos, California.  Maybe we were only in style in Cerritos?  I don’t know.  Being that my generation is a little older now, I can’t help but feel that we’re a bit lost among other generations of Filipino Americans.  For example, when I was a kid, none of my friends spoke Filipino (any dialect).  The only people who did were our parents.  But, nowadays I see Filipino Americans older than me and younger than me who speak Filipino.  This is a concept that baffles me (although it probably shouldn’t).  Filipino history is notoriously wrought with identity issues (are we Chinese? Spanish? Malay? Mexican? Black?), and the fact that my generation of Filipino Americans is so different from those that surround us makes it more complex.

  But maybe that’s what made us cool.  Having an identity crisis certainly doesn’t sound cool, but the search for an identity became very fashionable (and pretty pretentious).  My growing up in Cerritos can be described like this:

  I had a hard time keeping close friends.  I never really identified with any particular group.  I felt that while everyone else was at the party, I was stuck on the 2^nd Floor™.  Perhaps it’s because I didn’t Mixwell™ with anyone.  In everyone’s vain attempt at being the Bomb, Squad™s and crews popped up everywhere.  I wasn’t talented enough to be in a dance or DJ crew, nor artistic enough to Wrekshop™ with graffiti bombers.  I wasn’t cool enough to be in a social clique, nor tough enough to be in a street gang.   I didn’t have a fixed-up car, but I would always hear the rice rockets Whiz.  Kids™ raced in industrial parks late at night and became their own Icon™s and Legend™s.  I didn’t participate in that kind of stuff.  Since it wouldn’t be until 1998 when I could 21XL™,  I would just take a Time Out every now and then to Beat Junkies™ at Street Fighter II.  So Be It™.

  G Whiz™!  What was this Islander™ supposed to do?  Catholic high school failed to groom us to be Children of Soul™, so I had to educate myself to keep Satanas™ from creeping up on my Blindside™.  I found my Grand Groove™ in hiphop.  This Fascination™ kept my mind between my headsets as I analyzed the Audio FX™ of Modern Musique™, and that somehow made me Determined To Destroy™ all stereotypes and expectations of what it meant to be a Pinoy Real™. 

  Realizing who you are never goes out of style.

  • 12:00 AM
  • 18 eprops
  • 12 comments