The day after “Ka Bel” died, my father sent me an email urging me to go to the wake for the party-list representative. He said Crispin Beltran was once his boss and one whom he deeply respected, and he felt it was his filial obligation to offer flowers and prayers at his wake. But since he was away in Maastricht, the Netherlands, on a scholarship, he asked me to go his place. I’m no leftist; I’m not even politically inclined, as some of my schoolmates have probably noted. So when I put on my denim pants and rubber shoes to go to Manila’s Quiapo district to buy some flowers, I thought that I was merely doing what my father had asked me to do: to offer flowers and prayers for a dead man.
The underground's notes. (tags)
I've already explained to journalists, that my "sepulture" was held three days before performance that was announcement in press. It's happened that TV-journalists from Moscow asked me to undertake this action special for them, but as an artist, I realized that my re-sepulture would be the farce.