Video Killed Not Just the Radio Star

Conrado De Quiros' column today entitled "Hangover" juxtaposes the way Willie Revillame and Ellen Degeneres help those in need. While Ellen was a class act, Willie was simply an act. Willie would dry up his beneficiaries to their last teardrop; Ellen "would crack a joke or draw attention to something else or go into commercial each time the beneficiary got tearful." Willie would bask in the limelight as his beneficiaries kiss his hand in gratefulness; the poor beneficiaries looking like stray dogs being given last night's leftovers. Ellen "has basic appreciation for people, she has basic respect for people." Wille has only basic and primal appreciation for money.

We do not need to look far to realize the level of doom this country has found itself. We need only switch on the TV set to local channels on primetime.

When we talk of TV, there are two things that hit my negative memory button; the two things that TV had done that I will never forget.

One. Wish Ko Lang.

I am not sure if it was still with Bernadette Sembrano or with its current host Vickie Morales. A boy in his teens was shown playing basketball with his pals. He had the moves. He could do rebounds. He was fairly tall. He was laughing and playing. What do you know, he had cancer. He had this huge mound of flesh somewhere in his body where the mass should not have been. His family wrote to Wish Ko Lang for help. With the usual drama and theatrics, Wish Ko Lang granted the wish and sponsored the boy's operations. Two or three episodes later, the boy died. My sister and I were stunned. And we cried. We still remember that episode to this day. To this day there is no disclaimer that says "Ask at your own risk." Just a long list of sponsors at end credits.

Two. PBA.

It was that terrible game when Terry Saldana fell on his knee that broke and got dislocated in complete reverse. I still get the shivers remembering it. How could I not? Thoughtless, inconsiderate, callous PBA crew must have ran the replay in slow-mo over a dozen times a minute while the announcers commented on every screenshot minute detail. I was but a little girl enjoying the game with my father. The PBA that time was riding on a big wave of success. It was the time when most Filipino families had only one TV set. It was the time when fathers called the shots on what to watch on TV. And when it's PBA time, it was all PBA time. To hell with Inday Badiday and her rotten showbiz talkshow. Success made PBA careless. And heartless. What must have been happening to PBA now is called payback time.

Because video killed not just the radio star.