Vice Ganda for president?

By Noel Galon de Leon

Vice Ganda has always been larger than life, a comedian, a host, and a performer who thrives in the space between laughter and provocation. But in the recent Trillion Peso March, something different happened. Sa tunga sang hugpong sang katawhan nga nagapanawagan sang hustisya kag accountability, Vice stood on the stage not just as an entertainer but also as a voice of dissent. This was what quickly trended, not just because of Vice’s fame but also because of the many things said that were both praised and criticized, ilabi na ang iya pagpamuyayaw.

Para sa iban, ang pagpamuyayaw sa rally daw indi bagay. Ginatudlo sang kultura naton nga “professional” kag “decent” dapat ang tono kon nagapamulong ka sa publiko, ilabi na gid kon politikal. Pero Vice broke that rule. Every curse word felt like a slap and a spark that ignited both cheers and criticism. In English, swearing is often seen as vulgar, but in protest culture it can carry raw power. It takes away the mask of politeness that has long been used to silence outrage. Vice’s swearing showed that she was not only speaking to entertain but also carrying the pain and anger of the people.

Trending sya not only because of Vice’s celebrity status but also because the act of cursing captured attention. Sa social media, ang ginapangita pirme amo ang sensational. People rarely share mild statements; they share what is outrageous, shocking, and quotable. A curse word in a rally works like a meme waiting to be born. Dungan sina, it also revealed a contradiction. How do we reconcile comedy and politics, entertainment and anger? The image of Vice cursing onstage became a mirror of our society’s frustrations.

Ano bala ang lohika sang pagpamuyayaw sa isa ka Trillion Peso March? Ang trillion-peso issue indi lang numero. It is hunger, unpaid workers, underfunded hospitals, and children without classrooms. Words of politeness often fail to capture this magnitude. Swearing becomes a symbolic language of the oppressed, as if to say, “Wala na kami sing pulos nga polite words. Ang amon kasakit naglab-ot na sa punto sang pagpamuyayaw.” In Hiligaynon terms, daw amo ini ang pagbubo sang mabug-at nga ginadala. Ginapamuyayawan ta na lang kay sobra na gid. It is both release and resistance.

Reactions were mixed. For some, it was empowering. “Finally, may naghambal sang amon tingog in a way nga raw kag matuod.” Vice’s swearing broke the elitist notion that political speech must always be polite, detached, or “respectable.” The rally came alive with laughter, clapping, and shouting, and it felt like a shared therapy session.

Pero para sa iban, it was a disgrace. “Ginapababa niya ang kalidad sang diskurso.” Others said it distracted from the serious issue and turned the march into a comedy show. Ginakulbaan sila nga basi ang kritikal nga isyu masapawan sang kaladlawan kag memes.

On the positive side, Vice’s cursing made politics accessible. Kag amo ini ang importansya because she humanized outrage. Ordinary people who also curse when frustrated felt validated. The march became less of a stiff political ritual and more of a people’s outcry.

On the negative side, there is the risk of trivialization. Ang peligro nga mahimo ini tanan entertainment value lang. And if politics turns into pure showbiz, the seriousness of the trillion-peso issue could be buried under viral moments.

Personally, I see Vice’s act as both dangerous and necessary. It is dangerous because it blurs the lines between activism and entertainment, and necessary because polite outrage has failed us too many times. Ang mga tawo nga nagatuo nga indi bagay ang pagpamuyayaw sa rally may punto man sila. Pero kon paminsaron, ang tanan nga ginahimo sang tawo nga naga-express sang kasakit, indi bala lehitimo man?

Vice Ganda for President is, of course, a joke. Yet the joke reveals a truth. Politics in the Philippines has long been a circus, and sometimes in that circus, comedians can tell truths more courageously than politicians.