My ex’s son wants
a butterfly knife so badly, &

I remember the appeal: the
click-click, the jabbing stab, then

snapping back into place like
nothing happened. He says

he just wants one with
dulled edges to practice in

his room, but I know, even
more than his mother,

that he would take it to
school & get his ass in

trouble. As much as I would
like to quiz him about

its origin, he would
probably fight me on it &

say “Made in France.” He
would, just to pick a

fight. But no, this is
the balisong, the baynte

nuybe: Part baling, part sungay,
the horns from carabao & deer

have been replaced with stainless
steel manufactured in

a European country or
from an Asian country that

reads as “Imported”
from the copy in

its online listing. Your origin
is like food, and food

mutates through cultural
transmission. As it was made to

slice rope, it’s now the tool of
pickpockets or criminals in

Manila, Cebu City, or mostly
Quezon City anymore. Though if

you have had the Moros &
Abu Sayyaf firing gunshots

in your village, you’d
probably want a

balisong in your hand, so
my father once advised as

he gave me a copy of
The Art of War by

Sun-Tzu. However, I’m
nothing like him. Perhaps one day

I’ll give her son a copy
of The 36 Ji, maybe

give him two bastons, &
then say Learn how to

practice with these &
you’ll never need a knife.