Some time ago, a friend asked me for my opinion of old Pinoy writers. Suffice it to say that my opinion isn’t worth much; I have this dislike for most of the old guard. My reasons for disliking them aren’t really that deep, but I can’t help but think that they’re the reason why we’re caught in a vicious cycle of sub par local entertainment. Nick Joaquin. National artist. Beer Drinker. Taken from Bulatlat . Which isn’t to say that I dislike all of them. I have great respect for Jose Rizal, especially after I read his works in English (my mind processes the English language better than Tagalog). And by far, my favorite Pinoy writer of all time is Nick Joaquin. My very first encounter with Joaquin’s work was, as you would expect, required reading when I was a freshman in college. This was May Day Eve , a story about passionate love turned bitter. You know how each writer has a flagship work; Hemingway has either For Whom the Bell Tolls or The Old Man and the Sea . Vonnegut has...