Beauty queens 4 sale

The Philippine beauty pageant scene never ceases to amaze. We Filipinos are such avid consumers of nubile contestants parading their souls and fleshly delights that nothing --no criticism, no issue, no scandal-- seems to disturb the continual goddess worship.

Of course, everyone has his or her own favorites. Their own idols, set far apart from the rest of their co-contestants (and natch, at much loftier heights than us the huddled masses), who cannot in any instance be critiqued --for fear of unleashing a hail of counter-criticism. Or cyber stalking mixed with trolling. Or even death threats, if it comes to that.

But if one tries to see above the noisy fray, we all know that the organizers love these internecine mud-slinging and body-shaming, as they bring more publicity and more ratings, and hence more advertisers. Ka-ching!

At the end of the day, that’s what this is all about, right? Aside from the glamour and the prestige of finding the next title holder, the organizers want sponsors to come forward and fork some more cash, so that at the very least, the event can keep itself afloat. Sponsors willing to dole out largesse for, perhaps, the ability to ogle. The prestige of being a judge on national TV. And yes, it happens - perhaps for a future partner, matrimonial or sexual, permanent or otherwise.

It shouldn’t come as a big surprise, therefore, that the local Miss Universe franchise, freshly wrested from the hands of Stella Marquez Araneta, should incorporate another money-making scheme.

Not the traditional television ads for the televised awarding ceremony. Not the exclusive management contracts for the eventual winners. Not the royalties from future reruns and YouTube snippets. Those are so passé. The “new” scheme, dear fan base, is to sell votes to you. Yep, pay cash, get a vote (or multiple votes) for your preferred candidate.

For only P49 (less than a dollar) one can cast three votes. For the slightly more affluent, cast 40 votes for only P499 (or less than ten bucks)! But for the truly loaded or the ultra-fervent fans, spending P4,990 in one pop can give you a whopping 450 votes for your candidate of choice.

Now, isn’t that lovely. Let’s literally sell the candidates. Ka-ching!

Whatever happened to the myth of finding a spokesperson that embodied the true values of a modern Filipina? A well-spoken, articulate ambassadress that would softly preach our culture to the world, and represent our essence with her sultry gaze? A smart, savvy, cause-oriented everyday gal who would captivate the imagination of the country (all these, while we scrutinize their bellies during the swimsuit portion and hazard guesses as to which one got the boob job)?

Yes dear, we know all that’s just a smokescreen, but these talking points made the beauty contest just that more palatable. The vote buying, however? I think this takes the pageant to even lower depths.

This is the same stratagem they use in barangay Santacruzans, where neighbors are forced to buy raffle stubs to cast votes for their favored pretties. Where winners get determined by zealous parents and relatives who spend more than they should on empty prestige, when they should be spending their cash on basic necessities. Foolish priorities, right? But that doesn’t seem to have stopped pageant officials from incorporating this feature in Miss U - Philippines.

For this vote-buying that Miss U - Philippines just scaled up to a national level (dare I say global, for what about all those rabid fans based in the Middle East and the Americas?) this is a huge cash-generating opportunity for the organizers.

How timely. The pandemic is still here, and meanwhile, since there are no other diversions, we might as well obsess about women competing in the runway challenge or the headshot challenge, or whatever other shallow test they think of next. Let’s ignore our fellow citizens suffering and begging on the streets, shall we? Yes, let’s divert hundreds and thousands of pesos (dare I say, millions?), that could be better used, to vote for our favorite binibini.

I just hope that the proceeds of this babe-buying exercise get directed a hundred percent towards charity, and not to more Lear jets to fly the organizers to Las Vegas. Otherwise, us hapless pageant viewers just got suckered a wee bit more.