Pilosopunks #1 [E is for] “Emotionally Sabaw” by Zernain Villain

[embed]Pilosopunks #1 [E is for Emotionally Sabaw] by Zernain Villain… Pilosopunks #1 [E is for Emotionally Sabaw] by Zernain Villain…www.facebook.com

[embed]Pilosopunks #1 [E is for Emotionally Sabaw] by Zernain Villain FA2Z #FAtoZ #FromA2Z #FromAtoZ #FromA2Zine #FromAtoZinefroma2zine.substack.com

[embed]Pilosopunks #1 - Emotionally Sabaw (2025) The story follows three friends, Goody, Tasyo, and Mulong, who engage in a humorous and philosophical discussion while…www.scribd.com

The Big Argument Before the Great Inuman

It was a hot Thank God It’s Friday afternoon in Manila, P.I. the kind of day when even your tsinelas start to wonder what life is all about. Goody was sitting on the bangketa outside a sari-sari store, watching red ants climb into a broken packet of Skyflakes. He looked at it for a while and then explained, “You know, Tasyo, these bugs… they aren’t even aware they’re part of a system. Just like us, pre*. Caught. Under control… by capitalism and humidity.”

Tasyo, who had just come from a Jollibee job interview that lasted 30 minutes and was 40 minutes late to, replied, “Tol, that’s deep. Or maybe the ants do know. Baka sila ang mga tunay na pilosopo. Because they don’t use Facebook or watch TikTok.”

At that very moment, Mulong showed up with a couple of Lucky Me! Instant Mami’s and a plastic bag of ice tubig, which he always brings to any get-together.

“Cho, you won’t believe what I just saw,” he exclaimed, out of breath. “A YouTube documentary about Thales. He said that water was the source of everything. So, in a way, instant noodles are about 60% divine.”

Goody’s eyes got big, like he had just encountered Aristotle at a jeepney stop. “Are you saying that our lunch is sacred?”

Tasyo took the instant noodles. “Then we have to boil it. And eat the truth.”

They went to the closest karinderya-slash-restobar after eating, got three muchos of Red Horse, and set up camp like they were going to compose the Nicomachean Ethics on tissue paper. The great philosophical unraveling had already started, and they hadn’t even had their first shot yet.

Mulong cheered, “To Thales!” and raised his plastic spoon.

Tasyo interjected, “To instant mami as praxis!”

Goody added, “To red ants… and their quiet revolution!”

And that’s how three Pinoy punks with too much alcohol and not enough work accidentally got into Ionian Pre-Socratic philosophy, equipped with instant noodles, Red Horse beers, and years of unresolved nanay issues.

Toma and Thales: A Tagayan That Is Very Philosophical

In the modest karinderya that has been turned into a pub near a university campus, the three punks are drinking R.H.B. at a rickety plastic table. The videoke machine hums the Sex Pistols’ “Anarchy in the U.K.” in the background, and the beer bottles clink.

Goody, who was already slurring a little, babbled, “Hey, hey, listen. Do you know who the original philosopher is? Thales. That guy said that water was the source of everything. Pre, we’re all sabaw! Literally and emotionally.”

Tasyo (snorts beer thru his nose): “Hold on a second — so you mean… when I break down, it’s not depression, it’s hydrophobia? Teka, hydrology yata?”

Mulong (arms outstretched, speaking sarcastically): “Oo! Kasi water is life! Manny Pacquiao said, ‘I don’t drink water because water comes from the toilet.’ Maybe that’s why he’s not Pre-Socratic!” (starts to chuckle and chokes on his mucho)

Goody (becoming more excited): “Di ba? Thales said, ‘All is water.’ Pero si Anaximenes, may hangin sa ulo — literally! Because they say air is the root of everything. Pre, that’s simply Thales with hika.”

Tasyo: “If it’s all air, then what does that mean? My utot [poooooot] is a metaphysical expression of being?” (waves his hand in a big way and then fans the air)

Mulong pats Tasyo on the back: “Exactly, cho! That’s your contribution to the universe: a sweet gust of ontology.” (gives each other a high-five)

Goody sneered, brushing away a tear and half-joking, “You know what’s deep? Heraclitus. Fire is the essence, daw. And you can’t step into the same river twice, since everything changes, just like my ex. One day she’s nice, the next day she’s a dialectic contradiction.”

Tasyo (in a jokingly serious tone): “I tried to get into the Pasig River twice. I just got here. And my cellphone fell into it — stopped working. So, yes. Change hurts.”

Mulong: “That’s why I’m on Team Anaximander. He said, ‘It’s the apeiron,’ cho, when there was no water, fire, or air. The infinity that isn’t defined. Para siyang breakup text: ‘It’s not you, it’s… I don’t know what it is really.’”

Goody (dramatic): “The vibe is apeiron. Not defined. Like the state of my employment. (lifts his bottle) To uncertainty, pre!”

They all lift their R.H.B.’s and clink them.

Tasyo, looking at the bottle closely, wondered, “Tol, kung si Thales, water… si Anaximenes, air… *si Heraclitus, fire… si Anaximander, not clear… so, what am I? Why do I feel like everyone? Sabaw, mainit ulo, pabago-bago*, undefined. Maybe I’m that cosmic soup!”

Mulong (puts an arm around Tasyo): “You’re not cosmic soup, cho. You’re cosmic adobo with a little bit of meat!”

Goody (thoughtfully): “Alam mo, maybe philosophy is like drinking — unang lagok, lasa mo pa. Fifth, your head is getting hot. Pangwalo, you have an idea. Pangsampu… you’re one with the apeiron, pre.”

Tasyo (eyes wide): “Tol… we’re actually drunk on metaphysics.”

Mulong suddenly called the restobar owner, “Ate! Please give us a plate of Platonic ideal chicharon as pulutan.” (fades to black as the videoke starts up with The Clash’s “White Riot” and the three drunk punks start rewriting Ionian cosmology in ketchup on the plastic table.)

Ideas and References Breakdown: Philosopher/ Made Fun of/ Real Idea Thales/ Sabaw and feeling down/ Water is everything. Anaximenes/ Ontology based on air and farting/ All of it is air. Heraclitus/ Fire is an ex-girlfriend./ Change is real. Anaximander/ Apeiron = love that can’t be defined/ First to suggest the “infinite” or “boundless” All/ Drinking metaphors/ Elemental monism, change, and unification

Heraclitus’ Hangover

(11:30 AM, Saturday in New York — Cubao) The three hungover punks are lying around in Goody’s tiny bedroom, which is full of empty Red Horse bottles, unopened chicharon, and a whiteboard with the words “APEIRON = BREAKUP ENERGY” written in ketchup.

Goody (groaning): “Pre… why is there a drawing of Plato’s Cave on my forehead?” He reaches up and takes off a crumpled sticky note that also says, “Everything is an illusion. Except for chicharon.”

Mulong, with his face half-buried in a dirty throw pillow, countered, “That’s your fault, cho. You yelled, ‘We are the shadows on the wall!’ and danced to the Ramones’ ‘I Wanna Be Sedated’ on videoke.”

Tasyo looked into a tumbler of leftover iced kape and beamed, “Tol, I had a dream that I was a big river. But I couldn’t get within myself. Was it my pantog or Heraclitus?”

Mulong suddenly sits up, eyes opening. “Hold on. Hold on. Did we really send an email to the Philosophy Department last night about starting a class named ‘PHILO 101: Inuman at Ideolohiya’?”

Goody looks at his cellphone. “Uh… oo. We also sent a copy to everyone on the dean’s list.”

A moment of quiet.

Tasyo: “At least they know what our thesis proposal is now.” (lifts a plastic fork like a philosopher’s wand) “Title: ‘From Thales to Tulakan: Fluid Dynamics in Filipino Group Psychology.’”

Mulong: “Okay, but let’s drink responsibly next time. Stop comparing Red Horse to the four elements.”

Goody: “Say what you want. ‘Fire Is Logos, Ice Tubig Is Salvation’ is still the title of my poem.”

Suddenly, the door opens, and Wendy — Goody’s new girlfriend — walks in.

She looks around: Tasyo is wearing a t-shirt as a toga, Mulong is using empty 555 sardinas cans to make a Venn diagram of Empedocles’ four roots, and Goody is reading from an empty bottle like it’s The Republic.

She lets out a sigh. “You three gunggongs had one night of beer. Now you think you’re the ‘Kalye Literature’ gods of Greece.”

Goody, serious: “Gods are not us. We are only modest seekers of the truth… na walang pang-ulam sa almusal. Or is it lunch already, baby?”

She throws a pack of siopao at him. “Look for the truth after you do the pile of dishes, ok?”

The three punkistas silently wipe up their mess and sometimes mutter deep things such as, “Is it still clean if you sweep under the table and no one sees?” “What is the purpose of a Tupperware or Orocan without a lid?” “Can silence be dialectical if you’re grounded?”

And so ends the first chapter in the long story of Goody, Tasyo, and Mulong: The Drunk Philosopunx of Cubao.

16th September 2025/ Manila, PH/ Zernain Villain, PhD*

Philippine Islands, also PutangIna!, *Dickhead of Philosophy