Dear Willie

Wake up. Snap out of it. Stop your delusions of grandeur.

You told off your fellow celebrities who were critical of you on Twitter, saying, (in Filipino): “We belong to the same industry. Instead of passing judgment prematurely, you should be helping me help other people.... Are you helping the poor? You should first look in the mirror and ask yourself this question: What good have you done for your country?” (from Inquirer.net)

There you go again.

Honey, the money you hand out are prize monies. They come from the sponsors of the contests. And why do big companies sponsor such contests? Because they know there’s a return on their investment. Yes, that’s right. The poor people who line up outside your studio to join the contest spend their meager pesos for a proof of purchase that will allow them to join such contests and win the prize money that the sponsors can afford to give because of the sales from proof of purchases; see how the money just goes around? Sponsors don’t give away money just for the heck of it, dear. They’re not being charitable; they’re just sales-minded.

So unless the money you give away really comes from your own pocket, don’t say that you’re helping the poor. Put your own money where your mouth is and sell off your yacht; donate the money to charitable institutions. Sell off most your cars, you don’t really need all of them. After all, you are the one with the millions of pesos to spare, unlike Lea Salonga, Jim Paredes, Aiza Seguerra, Tuesday Vargas, Agot Isidro, Mylene Dizon and Bianca Gonzalez. They don’t get paid in six-figures, nor do they receive cars as gifts from your equally rich showbiz friends.

Oh, and giving dole outs is helping the poor on a very short-term basis. If you really want to be an agent of change for the poor, why not just reformat “Willing Willie” into something like “Negosyo ATBP” or “Ating Alamin”? I can imagine your female dancers dressed in barrio-lass outfits and dancing to the song “Sa Kabukiran” as you explain, ala-contest mechanics, how to best raise hogs. Think of it as Gerry Geronimo meets Armida Siguion-Reyna.

“What good have you done for your country?” you asked. Maybe we should challenge you and your program staff instead: “Can you do better?”

Okay, that’s it. That’s the last time I’ll blog about you. Your 15 minutes here are up.