Kumintang

i've moved!

2007-03-26T18:47:00.000+08:00

talangpula.livejournal.com

The Feast

2006-11-06T15:05:00.000+08:00

Problems.

Who doesn’t have them.

Problems are all I seem to be having these days. Chief among them is my wanting Peace for myself, which I keep telling everyone within earshot. Thank you all for listening. Haha.

It’s funny though, because those whom I seek to talk to- they all seem to be pointing me to Him. You know, Him.

Which is funny because, if I were more wont to, I'd be saying that He’s been talking to me a lot this past week, through them.

So I got to talking with my very good friend B16 and s/he tells me that s/he has this big problem; I say that I have this big problem too. S/he says that we could maybe go to this gig on Sunday. It might help ease us of our burdens. I say, “Okay.” (Maybe I could check my schedule.)

The night before the gig, Rebs of Hohums asked me to call. She was apparently very happy these days and she wanted to share it. Okay. I don’t know if it’s morally right for anyone to share his/ her happiness with another person who was depressed, but I called anyway. If I got to slitting my throat while she’s gushing smileys on my phone- I’m pinning everything on her.

Anyway, like I said, I called. (Rebs texted me her number just so that I won’t have any excuse not to.)

“Hello?”

“Oli! I’m so happy!”

I grabbed my knife. (Here we go.) “Talaga? Why are you happy?”

“I found Him.”

And she went on and on and on and on….

And I got around to wondering….

I don’t believe in signs, or rather, I don’t like believing in signs. Signs are for the lazy, those who don’t like thinking things through before they make a decision.

But I do believe in probability. When my whole life, I haven’t gone through a whole week where different people keep on talking about this one same thing, and this week, that exact same thing happens, then maybe I should be suspecting that something’s up. Something very odd is up.

All week long, people have been telling me that they’re happy because they found Him. And these are intelligent people. Something was very odd. Something was up.

So I decide to go to the gig. (I had nothing to lose.)

The gig is the Kerygma Feast, a monthly Fellowship held in the Camp Aguinaldo Theater.

B16 and I initially thought that the whole thing was only going to be a series of lectures. Turned out that a mass will be celebrated… there was also some singing… and, finally, there was Bo. We didn’t mind the mass (we were going to catch one of the masses at UP, anyway). We didn’t mind the singing. It’s just that we only went to the Feast because we wanted to hear Bo speak. And we did. Wow.

Bo is Bo Sanchez, the EIC of the Kerygma magazine. He’s also the Chair of Good Shepherd’s Voice Publications. And, finally, he a pretty damn effing good speaker.

Before Bo went on stage, there was much singing. And before that, the mass. But the singing is worth mentioning because, well, the mass is just a mass, while the singing, well- let’s just say that my initial reaction was: cripes, we have a theater-full of people on dope.

So people were singing, and some of them were jumping up and down while singing. Not a few were raising their hands and swaying while singing. Meanwhile, it was suddenly becoming clear to me that this was the so-called opiate of the masses. (It’s an entirely different animal when you experience it.) I hunkered down and thought, “What am I doing here?” I had a good mind to throttle B16. S/he said there was only going to be a talk.

But the whole thing was harmless. First of all, I wasn’t a stranger to prayer meetings and fellowships because my mother, who is a very religious woman, used to bring us to a few of them in the hopes of getting one of us hooked. None of us ever did. And anyway, Bo would later explain that the singing was to get all of us in the mood. It's there so that we can get into a happy mood. The reason for the joyous singing. Who wants to go to a somber prayer meeting? Okay. That made a lot of sense.

Then Bo went on stage.

I’ll leave out the details of his talk. Bo is better experienced than told of. God is better experienced than spoken of.

I went to the Feast in the throes of depression. I went out of it with renewed hope. We should do it again, sometime.

God is bigger than your problems. God is always with me.

Unlimited Texting

2006-10-29T18:01:00.000+08:00

Human nature being what it is, we only realize how valuable a thing is once we lose it. And these past few days, what that thing that is so valuable for me is: Peace.

One thing you have to say for competition in the free market is that, ceteris parebus (all things equal), the competing firms try to trump each other so that they can increase their market share. One innovation that the major cellular firms have introduced is the unlimited text.

Unlimited texting works by subscription. You pay a fixed rate per period (in number of days). Once the system acknowledges your subscription, you can text anyone with the same provider for even a million times without incurring charges, so long as you send these messages within the period of your subscription. Problem is, this set-up makes you vulnerable to… Harassment.

During the weekend, this psycho texted me three hundred times for a period of 16 hours. The text messages were all abrasive. I asked him to stop. He didn’t. He kept on sending more messages.

How do you stop these things from happening? Can you call the provider and tell them to bar the sender from sending you messages? What is my recourse?

I couldn’t take it anymore. I wasn’t able to sleep. The text messages were using my memory space. So I rushed to the mall and bought a new sim card.

God! I had that number for ten years now. I resisted all pressure to change it. But if I wanted some peace of mind and privacy_ I had to “buy” Peace of Mind and some Privacy for Php80- the price of a new sim card- and sacrifice a number I’ve had for a decade. Okay.

If you have experiences like this where you’re harangued by some psychotic person, you can probably file a criminal complaint against him for Unjust Vexation. Or maybe even a civil case for a violation of your privacy (under article 26 of the Civil Code). I don’t know if anything like this has already been done, but if the phone companies don’t do anything to stop this kind of thing from happening, there Will be cases that will find their way to court. You can bet your ass they will.

Panaginip ng Dukhang Nasasakdal

2006-10-25T20:31:00.000+08:00

"nasa'n ka nu'ng pinatay si policarpio? sagot!"

nakakatakut naman 'to. ganito ba'ng mga abugado? di na tuloy ako magtataka kung kinasusuklaman sila ng mga tao.

mga abugado! diyosko. heto't ginugulat ako ng isa sa kanilang kapatid. pilit pinipiga sa akin ang isang pag-aming wala namang kinalaman sa'kin. "nasa bahay po ako ni onyong nu'ng gabing 'yun, your highness." automatic na'ng sagot ko. ayoko nang makahulan pa ng asong ito.

abugado? abugago? asogado? asonggago? naku, paumanhin sa mga aso. wala silang ginawang mali upang ihambing ko sila dito sa hayup sa harap ko.

"nasa bahay ka ni onyong, 'ka mo? eh, way das it isteyt inda apidavit op yor pillow akyus dat yu wer wid jeprox wen yu kild policarpio?"

ano daw?

"objection, misleading."

aba, nag-object ang abugado ko! may silbi din pala'ng mokong na'to! si atty mokong- oo, Mokong talaga'ng apelyido niya- ay ang aking walang kuwentang PAO lawyer. ewan ko ba kung bakit pa'to binabayaran ng estado para tumulong sa mga inaapi. eh, mas lalo yata kaming naaapi, lalo ang mga dukhang tulad namin. tignan mo nga naman si mokong, nung i_assign sa'kin, ang unang sambit ba naman ay, "aminin mo na kasi na ikaw ang pumatay, para di na tayo mahirapan."

kung hindi lang ako hilo sa bugbog ng mga parak nu'n, eh binatukan ko na siya.

'tsaka, nangungulit pa ng delihensiya sa'kin si mokong! kasalanan ko ba kung pinanganak akong mahirap at hot monay na may keso lang ang maiaabot ko sa kanya. (dati, dinalhan ko siya ng 'sang lapad ng tanduay kaso, may prublema na daw sa atay niya. atay tayo diyan.)

"sustained. will the prosecutor please change the question." lumingon si judge sa clerk of court, "strike the question off the records."

salamat, judge. napangiti ako ng bigla. pag-asa ba'ng natatanaw ko? bumubuka yata'ng langit.

itong si judge, mukhang matalino. baka taga_UP. matitindi ang mga inggles niya. malupit. bilib ako. pero, sayang ang talino niya kung hahatulan ng mali ang isang inosenteng nasasakdal. sana mapansin niyang lokohan lang ang lahat ng ito. at sana, matalino man siya, sana hindi mas matalino ang bulsa niya keysa sa utak niya.

kinindatan ako ni atty mokong. ngunimiti. ayos ka, tsong. na_sustain nga'ng objection mo- aba, tiyakin mo na makakalaya ako.

"mr santos?' tinawag ako ni judge.

tatayo ba ako?

tutungo?

luluhod?

pa'no ba'ko sasagot? inggles? Filipino?

tumayo ako, "Yesser...?"

"gumising ka na."

ano daw?

"wake yourself up." malutong na inggles. malupit. "panaginip ito lahat, gumising ka!"

humalakhak si judge. pati si mokong, humahalakhak. lumalakas. mabibingi ako. tinakpan ko'ng mga tenga ko. nahuhulog ako. pumapaimbulog sa lupa. madilim. dumidilim.

minulat ko'ng aking mga mata. balot ako sa malamig na pawis. wala na ako sa sala ni judge. panaginip lang pala. nandito na ako- sa selda ko- bibitayin bukas.

Diyosko, alagaan mo'ng pamilya ko.

Flowers

2006-10-25T12:45:00.000+08:00

how do you pay your respects to a figurative grave?
give figurative flowers.
how do they differ from the real ones?
the real ones rot.

Live

2006-10-10T01:25:00.000+08:00

I’ve never really gotten why two people will go and sign a marriage contract. I mean, what’s the use of signing the contract and then, several years and kids later, after having tired of the other’s kinks and faults, after having gotten wind of the other’s secret vices and hitherto unknown bad habits, those same two people will suddenly wake up and realize that they hate each other’s guts and that they can’t stand one another.

Then, what either or both of them will do is look for happiness somewhere else, probably scarring their children emotionally in the process.

It happens to most everyone; everyone knows it. It’s like people have been handed a formula for disaster, but they go ahead and go through the process anyway.

And yet, having said all that- when, as in the movies, the hero will cross enemy lines and, braving the enemy, bullets whizzing by, with reckless disregard as to his own safety, rescue the one he loves- I’ll still go and shed a tear over it.

I’ll borrow a line from Flyboys (James Franco)- though the line is more an aphorism than it is an original, “You go and find your own meaning in war.” So with life.

When all of it seems senseless, the reality being that we are really only marching to our deaths, what we do is define what life is and what it should be about, to avoid pulling the trigger on our heads. Life is love. Or life is service. Or life is living.

Sigh.

For centuries, men have tried to figure out what life is. And yet the answer to that riddle, of what the meaning of life is, is as countless as there have been those of us who have lived and are living on this planet. We’re supposed to figure things out for ourselves and live.

Requiem. Have a meaningful life.

Back

2006-09-30T18:51:00.000+08:00

Yesterday, Pink texted me that, as she was packing her bags, she felt that even the weather seemed “melancholy”.

Melancholic. That’s what she probably meant. But who was I to judge grammar? Words are only tools men use to express themselves. So long as what was being said was understood, then there shouldn’t be too much of a fuss. If any given feeling, weather, mood, or whatnot is “melancholy,” then it probably is.

Just beyond Law (when you turn your head, you can still see glimpses of it). The Bar had just concluded; I’m finally feeling "melancholy".
Law school doesn’t afford you much time for emotion- save for the many times when you’ll be venting your frustrations on some innocent soul- that after the Bar, those pent up emotions threaten to engulf you. Where just a few weeks ago, you could just go and bury your head in codals and annotated books to escape from worries, nowadays we can’t seem to do anything else but face them.

I’m trying to get back to reading fiction. Much like the parts I’d already read and forgotten (currently, of Midnight’s Children), I can’t seem to recall the habit of reading text that is non-Law. (I’ve been reading Midnight_ for a year now, on and off). Though I know I’ll eventually get the hang of it. Again. Eventually. Because as I scanned the pages of my book, everything felt familiar, if even vaguely familiar. Like going back to a farm where you played and grew up in. The details are hazy, and the memories come in bits and pieces, but they come. and they engulf you in their warm embrace. They’re all of tender, loving feelings. Fuzzy. But familiar. Welcome.

Law pulls you away from the world. Now that it’s ended, well, I just hope everything’s still as I left them.

The Dichotomy

2006-07-11T00:46:00.000+08:00

Seems like I’ve been passing through a pet-peeve stage these past couple of days. My last (recent) stage was my ihatethedichotomybetweenmenandwomen phase.

A few weeks ago, a male friend (not me) sent me a text message asking me if it was okay for him to have coffee with a female officemate. Both the guy and the girl were, shall we say, Attached.

I replied, “Why not?”

I ask: Why is it that when we see a girl and a guy together, the first conclusion we’ll automatically come to is, they’re dating- which can have dire consequences when either or both of the parties are with someone else, present company excluded?

I guess maybe it’s because we’re wired to further the cause of evolution- to put it bluntly: to procreate- so we tend to think in terms of that framework ie, maybe there’s something going on between the two.

That doesn’t necessarily have to be the case. Why can’t two people of different sexes (or genders) go out because they’re friends? Nothing more. That’s it. And that there’s really nothing more to explain.

I remember my first week of college when I was mortified because the university was co-ed. Up until then, I’d spent my whole life with boys my age, having graduated from an all-boys’ school. I didn’t know how to talk to girls, much less how to behave in front of one- two million of them.

Then I realized that, hey, I shouldn’t be afraid of girls because what girls really are is that, well_ girls are just boys without dingdongs. (Okay, they're also boys without dingdongs and have boobs, but I wasn’t capable of thinking that yet because at 16, I hadn’t gotten on the puberty wagon yet.) It was an Enlightenment of sorts which I was lucky to stumble on. (Otherwise, I’d have been a hopeless recluse.)

The point?

Look inside. Men and women- we’re all made up of tissues. These tissues form into muscles and the different organs; these organs are supported and protected by the skeleton, etcetera, etcetera. Girls- guys, we’re the same. The only difference is that I and my friend are chock-full of testosterone and potato chips and beer (caffeine, for me), and my friend’s friend has estrogen and potato chips and beer in their stead. It’s a same-same all around.

Of course, if the missus is the jealous type… you really should avoid any situation where you’ll find yourself getting hit on the head with a vase thrown your way. All I can say is, I’m glad I’m single. Haha.

Blog down

2006-06-30T11:43:00.000+08:00

Uh-oh. Blog seems to be down. Why can't I open it? Argh.

I exist!

2006-06-26T11:48:00.000+08:00

Hindi pala ako singaw lang. I wasn’t just forced out of someone’s ass.

The first week of June, I went to the NSO to get a copy of my birth certificate. I needed it so that I can attach it to my petition to take the Bar. The thought of going to the NSO revolted me. I thought of long lines, and a crush of people. I’d be wasting the whole day falling in line, drenched in sweat, while I was swearing at the inefficient effing bureaucracy. I’d learn the day I went to the NSO that there was a semblance of efficiency after all. You were given a number the moment you went in. And there were chairs where you can sit down and watch teevee. And the guards, who were busy ushering and controlling the crowd- the guards were surprisingly polite.

You’d think that maybe, there is some hope for this country after all. The rub though, is that the reason why there is a throng of people at the NSO is because so many of them are wanting Out, to work in other countries or whatnot. You’ll need your birth certificate to apply for work abroad, I reckon. Or maybe to get a passport.

My classmates told me that there was a number I could call so that I can have my birth certificate delivered in three to something days. I didn’t entirely trust the service, and I thought I could get the darn thing the next day- read: quicker- if I just went to the NSO personally.

I didn’t get it the next day.

The guys at the counter told me that they couldn’t find a record of my birth in their vaults and that they’d have to conduct a manual search. I was to come back in three weeks. Maybe they’d have found it by then. Maybe.

So for a few days, I quietly doubted my existence….

Until finally I got the nerve to call and ask my mother, “I was wondering if you and Dad ever found a baby in a gutter, say, thirty years ago…?” Which was to say that I asked in a roundabout way if I was really their son or not. (Hah!) My mother quickly caught on and gave me a photocopy of my birth certificate, should I need it, she added. Okay. But I needed the government to affirm that I was for real.

A few days later, I went back to the NSO and got the certificates I applied for. Kudos to the NSO. It took a while, but you can plainly see that they’re trying their darndest to improve their services.

Moving Day

2006-06-15T22:53:00.000+08:00

Why is it that sometimes you have to get the general feeling that… life sucks? To say it in the colloquial.

Why can’t life be one smooth, uneventful ride, where all you’ll have to do is watch the rumps of several guys on bikes that are faster than your car pass your car. Yep, just sit down, lay back, and relax.

But you can’t do that. It’s not possible.

Sunday, I went to my mother’s, ostensibly, to pick up my books. My brother had just gotten married; they were going to move in to my old room in Makati.

So my mother was in my old place, supervising the cleanup (and doing a lot of the chores herself), begging me to please take my books. I relented after she warned me that once my brother and his bride take roost, I’ll have a harder time retrieving them (the books).

So I went.

Up until few years ago, I had a whole lot of books. A lot of them. They spanned every phase of book reading I got into. I had a Vietnam phase, an occult phase, a Hardy Boys phase, a sci-fi phase, etcetera. I didn’t get into a Classics phase, by the way. I don’t know what’s up with that.

After I moved to QC, so that I could be nearer the School, termites attacked my books- my helpless, defenseless little books. I suppose I should be lucky that they still left me with two shelves-full of books. In that case, I suppose they’re lucky I didn’t see them before I could torch their tiny book-eating little mouth… mandibles… jaws, whatever. Though I still can’t figure out why the books couldn’t defend themselves. I mean, there were a lot of them. And several of them were hard-bound, like my math and accounting books. All they had to do, really, was to band together and maybe crush the little buggers….

… where was I?

Ah, my books.

So I’d gone back to Makati to get my books.

I’d always loathed going back to Makati. Not that I was repulsed by the whole idea, and I don't really rue the place. As the resident nerd (one of two), I got beat up there a lot, by the local tambays. But the rest of the folks were generally okay…. I grew up there. Literally. Figuratively.

Maybe that’s why I hate it so much. Because being there, it always reminds me of how wonderful things used to be. If I could only bottle the past…. (I'd buy carpets and live there.)

Bottle the past, words which I texted to claude_girl. She replied that she loved the double entendre. Me, I didn’t get it. I kept on staring at the words. Bottle the past.

Oh.

Not that I’m a big drinker. I hate beer. It’s bitter.

I know. I’m probably the only person in the world who descended from the apes who hates beer. But there you go. I’m malt-ose/barley/whateverbeerismadeof-intolerant. Though I’d always appreciated hard liquor, something which I said to Nutmeg’s dad while he (the dad) was offering me beer.

“I only drink hard liquor, po.”

Silence. Then I heard it as he heard it. A teenager who doesn’t drink beer but drinks hard liquor. Hmmn. That'll improve my good image a good ways.

Speaking of which. I don’t really know if my parents knew that I drank a lot in college. Literally, in school. The School of Economics (Econ) had a back lot which was poorly lighted. Or maybe it wasn’t lighted at all. The light from Katipunan spilled on to it- which might explain why it was dark… I can’t recall….

Ah, well, the point was that it was dark. And we had the rounds of the security guards pegged to a tee.

Me: (Alarm ringing.) Hide the bottles! Quick!
Guard riding on a bike: (Passes the three of us by. Looks at us suspiciously.)
Us: (In unison) Hi, manong!

When he’s gone, we drink again. Oh, he’ll be back, but we’ll know when. Exactly. This guy was strictly OC, getting on his bike and doing the rounds every thirty minutes.

I stopped drinking after a sorry incident a few years after college. (It's actually funny in hindsight.) I lost consciousness in front of the office staff after drinking a whole bottle of Johnny Walker. (Don’t ask why.) The guys had to drive me home while I was spraying Chinese food in their car.

I couldn’t move for a week. It felt like whisky was running through my veins….

And there were a lot more memories. Boxes of them. I was channeling them while I was arranging my books in their own boxes. It kind of felt like I was moving - but in reverse. I was bringing my books with me to QC, where I now lived. I was lugging my memories back to me.

Boy, if we could only bottle the past…. Wait. I think I still have some whisky downstairs.

The Suns- and the Parking Boys

2006-05-29T20:46:00.000+08:00

Reviewing for the Bar. Okay, not really.

Hemorrhaging IQ, from doing nothing. I have three novels that are half-read, and I have codals which are- not read- and I’m having a nasty bout of ADS.

Oh, but that doesn't apply to the NBA Playoffs- which I follow religiously. Very early morning, I'm already camped in front of the teevee, waiting for tipoff. My brother walks by me before he leaves for work and tells me, everyday, how good it must be to be reviewing for the Bar. You get to watch TV much.

I scour web pages on my phone for news about the games, the teams, and the players. And I’m absolutely crazy over the Phoenix Suns. Their guys are small, their star player is injured for the season (Amare, good for 25something points a game, double digits in rebounding, and several wowowee dunks), and the player they acquired to replace him was injured midseason. Now, their primary – really, their sole enforcer, is out with a torn calf injury (the Suns aren’t really known for their defense). He’ll probably be done for the rest of this Season.

Where was I? Ah: small guys- their Center is 6’8”- they don’t play defense, and all they do is shoot threes, yet they’re in the Western Conference Finals. They probably won’t make it past this round (and move on to the NBA Finals) but, you have to hand it to them. Despite every setback, they’ve managed to get to where they were last year. I swear, they’ll be infinitely better next year. They're also the most fun team to watch. All they do is run and shoot.

Ginebra stuff. That’s why I’m hooked. Until Grant Hill plays again, if he isn’t retiring.

Next.

I got into a heated argument with one of those people who “guard” your car in parking lots. It was the University Grad; the only place where I could park my car was in that grassy area in front of Quezon Hall. I arrived early. Mine was the only car there. But when I was leaving, after the ceremony, this guy rapped on my window and asked for money for guarding my car.

I told him to give me a minute so that I can fix my things, and maybe look for change. He continued rapping on my window. I asked him to stop. He wouldn’t. I asked him again. He was very persistent. I was starting to become annoyed; then, I exploded. I opened my door and muttered what might have seemed to be an endless barrage of questions.

Bakit ang kulit mo?

Nagpabantay ba ako sa’yo?

Binantayan mo ba talaga?

Ni hindi mo nga ako tinulungang magParking dito, eh.

Baka naman kararating mo lang diyan pagpunta ko dito?

Etcetera etcetera. Then I left. In a hurry.

Car15, who was with me, was shocked. He didn’t think I was capable of flaring up.

Pet peeve, I explained, embarrased. I was already starting to calm down.

He looked like he was in good enough shape, I explained. Couldn’t he just look for some decent work? I didn’t ask him to guard my car, etcetera etcetera. But then again, those questions were easy for me to ask. That guy? He probably maybe did have a job. But maybe the money he was earning wasn’t enough, so he had to moonlight, or look for rackets. Godknows that what he was doing wasn’t illegal. And helping “guard” cars would be worlds better than robbing someone of his or her cellphone. With a knife. Or a gun.

It’s easy to ask- and be critical of others when you’re not involved in and/or living their lives.

NBA

2006-05-19T13:03:00.000+08:00

The LA Clippers force a Game 7.

That’s what my summer has been about, the NBA, particularly following the Phoenix Suns. Well, that and some sparse reading for the Bar. I guess my NBA for the moment has been No Bar At (all). Bad acronym, but it’s really hard keeping emotions in check when you’ve invested emotions into a team. And I think my IQ’s still out buying food- like it's been for the past month. I hope to get it back in time for the Bar.

The Suns overachieved this season, prompting the league to vote their point guard, Steve Nash, MVP for the second straight year. Less than ten people have won back-to-back MVP’s, among them, Tim Duncan, Michael Jordan, Magic Johnson, etc. But this guy from Canada somehow made it into that elite list.

Nash is short. He’s slow, he can’t jump, he can’t defend- but he’s won an MVP, and consecutive ones at that. Last year, he joined a team that was at the bottom of the league and he made them into winners. This year, their best player was injured for the season, and the player they got to replace their injured player was himself injured mid-season. And yet they still managed to win their division and clinch the second seed in the Western Conference. Wow.

In the first round of the playoffs, they were down 1-3 against the Kobe Bryant and the Lakers and still managed to win the seven game series. Now they’re in the second round and are about to face their division rival, the LA Clippers, in a seventh and deciding game. The winner will advance to the Western Conference Finals.

LK was telling me that she was happy that the series will go into a seventh game. More fun all around, I suppose. But I wasn’t happy at all. The Clippers are the tallest team in the league, and without their injured centers, the Suns are one of the smallest, if not the smallest team in the playoffs today. They won’t stand a chance against the Clips in a seventh game….

God wants me to panic

2006-04-27T13:57:00.000+08:00

If you'll ever need a panic person, I’m your guy.

My teevee went on the fritz two weeks ago, its picture suddenly going blank. Great. Must be God’s way of telling me to panic for the Bar this early.

What do you do when you suddenly have a TV that goes radio on you? I tried talking to it, asked it nicely to show me pictures. I tried threatening it. I tried seducing it with a lady TV. Nothing worked. In frustration, I gave it a whack at its back side. The picture came back.

But that was only for a week. And after a few hours, the picture would go off again. Maybe it suddenly decided that it needed a vacation. Maybe even just so that it could take away some stress. Last week, my TV decided that it wanted a permanent vacation. No amount of hitting made the picture come back. Since I decided that I don’t want to listen to TV sound all day, I called my father and told him that the TV’s broken. He answered, “Okay. I’ll buy you a new one.” (Yahoo.)

So, the universe will, every once in a while, apologize for giving you fits and do you favors. I personally thanked the Heavens. In my dreams. In real life, I don’t think I can get to heaven without forsaking… real life.

So my father had a Kolin teevee delivered to the house. After two days, it switched itself off. I couldn’t get it to turn on again. Maybe it joined my old teevee on a vacation. This was getting really annoying. It was as if the whole of TVDom decided that it wouldn’t let me watch teevee till maybe September, or maybe for the rest of my life. (I’ll make a report of this in November.) Maybe God did want me to panic for the Bar already, I don’t know.

Yesterday, I went to the store where my father bought the TV and asked that it be replaced. They agreed. It was a dead set, they told me. No amount of threatening will make it work. "What about seducing it with other TV’s?" I asked. I know they have plenty of slim women teevees in the store. Couldn't they maybe ask some of them to coax the new teevee out of its rest? Wait. No. Don’t call the asylum. I’m sane. I swear to god, look, there’s a teevee in a bikini right now, behind you. I swear.

Anyway, they were going to deliver the replacement teevee today…. Or they were supposed to deliver it today. It’s already one o’clock and it’s still not here.

I’m only anxious because I don’t have proof that I returned a defective TV and am asking and waiting for a replacement. Having just graduated from Law, you’d think that I would have asked for greater protection (as in making a contract, and having them sign several receipts). I didn’t. If they deny that they were obliged to deliver a replacement TV, I’d be dead in the water, and with hardly any shred of evidence.

Or maybe God just wants me to panic for the Bar right now. (Where is that blasted teevee anyway?)

Intramuros

2006-04-14T09:41:00.000+08:00

Two afternoons ago, I was agonizing over the fact that my friends decided to go to Intramuros Thursday (yesterday). I really wanted to go to Tagaytay.

In hindsight, I’m thanking the gods (God) for giving me such great friends.

Car15 said it best when he told the Prince of Darkness- henceforth, PDid- that I was more into the nature trip. And of course, I spent most of yesterday trying to sell another climb. The last time we made a climb was two years ago in Makiling. We were clearly long overdue for another, and since Sagada was clearly out of the question because my friends had to work on weekdays (I'm doing the Review, so I'll be relatively free until after September), I was thinking that maybe another climb to Makiling was possible. All we’d need was an overnight stay. (Isn’t there a three-day weekend coming up?)

We met at the Law parking lot at 0830. Very very early morning for a holiday.

It’s only 0830, mind you, because I told PDid in jest that maybe we should meet early, as opposed to meeting at our usual time of, well, the afternoon. My friends agreed, haha. I’d forgotten that we were all morning people.

After we’d exhausted our high-fives and our kamustas, P drove to Pasig to pick up B, then we headed for Intramuros.

The last time I was at Intramuros, we (the Team and I, for OLA, the Office of Legal Aid) were supposed to meet with our clients in the COMELEC building. Of course, it wasn’t the COMELEC building in Intramuros that we were supposed to go to- I’d understood the directions wrong- but there you go: the last time I set foot in the walled city. I mean, I’d gotten to see the Cathedral, but that was only for its parking area. That was it.

Yesterday, the traffic was very light. In fact, there a lot of Porsches careening happily about. "Di sila takut sa tansan ngayun," Car15 observed, guffawing. We parked near the Cathedral and promptly joined the throng doing the Bisita Iglesia.

Oh, but the bisita we were doing was remotely religious. We only wanted to do the rounds of the old Manila. In fact, a little while later, I nearly lost my temper at a 7-11 when this clerk refused to give me a phone card just because I didn’t have small change. I thought 7-11’s Should have change for big bills, I mean, they do have people coming and going and leaving them money and all. It was a good thing that PDid came to the rescue before I stormed out of the store. He had change for my P500. Anyway, doing the rounds, losing temper, equals hardly, maybe not at all, religious.

It’s amazing how Intramuros, that small piece of real estate, can connect you with your past and with your identity. Or not. Before the day ended, I quickly realized that we really haven’t our own identity, or, maybe it should be more apt to say that, we really don’t know who and what we are.

I remember that there was time when everyone seemed to want to talk about our possibly joining the US as one of its States. That was the vogue then. As if, by becoming Americans, we’d suddenly rid ourselves of our myriad of problems. Maybe it will; maybe it won’t. It’s just sad that we’ll want to look to others for solutions before we look to our own selves for the answers.

We clambered up the wall after the short stop at the local 7-11. The sun was beating down on us, but somehow it didn’t seem hot at all. I think it was the ocean breeze that prevented us from breaking into a terrific sweat. You thank god for small favors.

We looked at the cannons. We marveled at the thickness of the walls. The old lookouts all smell of piss, by the way. The City of Manila should take better care of the place.

After passing by the marker which marked 1 Victoria Street, where McArthur used to have his home, we sat down and thought that we could maybe play a game of Games of the Generals there. It would have been a fitting tribute to the General, by playing a game of strategy created by a Filipino, where an American general's home used to be. But there wasn’t a shaded area we could annex and play on.

By the way, PDid and Car15 were telling me that Intramuros was a better place when Dick Gordon was running Tourism. You pine for the good old days and wish that things stayed the same.

We walked by the old Ateneo compound and explored the ruins of the old Jesuit church. It sat across the street from where AdM used to be. Car15 reminded me that Rizal looked towards the spot where Ateneo was, before he was shot. I’m really not your history guy.

We walked towards Chowking, in front of the Cathedral. Maybe we could play Games of the Generals there? Nah. It was too crowded. I pointed to Max’s. That should do fine.

Walking towards the resto, we can’t help but notice the marker for the plaza fronting the Cathedral. First named for the King of Spain, then its name kept on changing depending on who our conquerors were. It’s kind of sad, really. There we were, looking for identity in the Old City of Manila, and all we could find were the chains that bound us to colonists. Maybe it’s high time we conquered ourselves for a change.

It shouldn't be wrong to ask

2006-03-28T17:11:00.000+08:00

In a fit of rage…. (If I have to… grabe, I should avoid reading newspapers. They only make my blood boil.)

What is happening?

Mind the facts. It is evident that the government is pushing for changing the constitution. Can somebody please tell me why?

Why do you want to change our system from presidential to parliamentary? Why? Because we’ll “join the ranks of the First World in twenty years”? What is your basis? Are you telling me that the US has a parliamentary system? It doesn’t. And it’s part of your so-called First World. Does this mean that we don’t actually need to change the Constitution so that we can be wealthier as a nation?

Is it true that you’ll want to allow foreigners to own Philippines land? Is it true?

Is it true that you’ll want to allow foreigners to own nationalized industries? Is it true?

Why don’t we just change the Constitution so that foreigners can own my body, soul, and spirit?

When I read the papers and see that barangays have been calling Assemblies to collect signatures for charter change, I can’t help but be mortified. Where are they getting the money to do this?

And please, don’t tell me that it’s not my station to ask. I pay my taxes. If my money is funding the agenda of a few (ie, amending the Charter), it is my right to know; it is my right to object. How much are they getting from me? 12 percent from VAT alone. I should be allowed even one question. I should be allowed even one answer.

And what do I think when I hear of a justice secretary who is quick to convict? I think that we don’t have justice at all. We don’t. Why will a justice secretary pick fights with one of the Commissioners who drafted the Constitution? Why will the justice secretary go and call him the Dean of Destabilization? Can’t we speak anymore? Aren’t we allowed to speak anymore? Tell me. Is that it? I’m not allowed to speak against you anymore? Ang kakapal niyo.

What are our primary concerns? All we’re just concerned with is: the Truth. All we’re asking is, is it true that the votes were not counted properly? We’re just asking. You can’t take that away from us. In a representative democracy, all we can do is vote. After that, we cede the sovereign power to our elected officials and go on about our daily lives. But you can’t abuse that power. It’s wrong.

And you know what? If there really wasn’t any hocus pocus, wouldn’t it be the easiest thing in the world to say that there was no hocus pocus? If the elections were clean, wouldn’t it be an easy thing to say they were?

We ask. We wonder. But what do you do to us? You call us destabilizers, you arrest us, you gag us, you threaten us. What do we have to do to make you stop?

The public office is a public trust. That's in the Constitution, in Article X, I think. What that means is, the People hold the true powers of the State; these powers are held in trust by our public officers. Now, trust, in law, is complicated and long winded. In common language, all trust means is just that. We trust you to care for these powers and to use it for our welfare. Because if the opposite happens, well, when and if you finally amend the Consitution, maybe we should just delete that provision all together.

Sure. The State has a right to protect itself, but who is the State? It’s not any one individual. The State isn’t the President. The State isn’t Congress. The State isn’t the judiciary. The State is us, Madame. It’s us. Us. Not the people who come to you in the dead of the night asking for favors. The State is the woman you see in the streets, sleeping in the dirt, dirtied, and without clothes. The State is the child who comes up to you and asks for alms. The State is the child who clambers up jeepneys and bends down to clean your shoes with soiled rags. The State is the farmer who can’t sell his produce in the market because of foreign competition.

Don’t deny us our democracy. It’s all we have.

Busy

2006-03-27T06:53:00.000+08:00

Whoa! I’ve been busy the whole month. Papers due, exams to cram for. It’s funny how all these things can take over a life, how they can obscure everything and keep them hidden in the shadows. Even my dreams- conspiring against me. I dream of blanks to be filled, and of essay answers to be written. My fingers cramp up when I wake.

My only consolation? Within a week: Peace. (If even for the moment.)

Conscience

2006-03-05T08:40:00.000+08:00

Proc 1017 was lifted last Friday. Are we back to normal?

Press Secretary Bunye says Emergency can be reimposed.
It seems that sedition charges are being filed against Olivares and several other columnists.

It’s becoming more and more apparent that 1017 was signed into existence to coerce the press into publishing only the Good News, like newspapers were the Bible. They're not. And the government today is hardly the Messiah this country needs and is wanting for.

Though I must admit that it’s amazing that we’re turning more and more to religion as we forge on. I can’t recall the last time the Church called for the Oratio Imperata. I do know that even atheists turn to prayer when they’re on the verge of death or are dying.

We’re not- dying. But our freedom to speak is. Although I won’t say that losing the freedom to speak isn’t equivalent to the former.

I don’t know why people should be all het up about other people speaking their minds to say how crappy a government is. You’d think they’d be ecstatic if they’re prohibited from saying that their government’s making their lives Heaven-On-Earth. Of course, since we’re supposedly a democracy, then maybe we should go and ask everyone if they’ve finally found paradise. Today. Here. If they have, then maybe we’ll all just keep quiet and keep our opinions to ourselves. Last I heard, my right to speak is guaranteed by the Constitution. Otherwise, my profs will have all been lying to us.

We're asking the Supreme Court to rule on the petitions to invalidate Proc 1017. Especially now that the government has made the justices' lives easier by lifting the Proc. It's probably the hardest thing in the world to nullify an Order of the President. Pressure at every turn. But now that the Executive herself has withdrawn it, then maybe the law should be properly heard. No pressure; it's already been withdrawn anyway.

The court has decided on cases in the past, even if they’ve already been held to be moot and academic. They may be moot, but they’re certainly more than academic.

In the case of Evelio Javier v COMELEC, the Court called itself the government's conscience. The court said…

"The abolition of the Batasang Pambansa and the disappearance of the office in dispute between the petitioner and the private respondents-both of whom have gone their separate ways-could be a convenient justification for dismissing the case. But there are larger issues involved that must be resolved now, once and for all, not only to dispel the legal ambiguities here raised. The more important purpose is to manifest in the clearest possible terms that this Court will not disregard and in effect condone wrong on the simplistic and tolerant pretext that the case has become moot and academic.

"The Supreme Court is not only the highest arbiter of legal questions but also the conscience of the government. The citizen comes to us in quest of law but we must also give him justice. The two are not always the same. There are times when we cannot grant the latter because the issue has been settled and decision is no longer possible according to the law. But there are also times when although the dispute has disappeared, as in this case, it nevertheless cries out to be resolved. Justice demands that we act then, not only for the vindication of the outraged right, though gone, but also for the guidance of as a restraint upon the future."

Let the conscience speak.

Next.

I don’t know why some people are saying that we’re overreacting when we go and compare the Proc to Martial Law. The name is different, sure, but even if we call something a rose it doesn’t mean that it is. Unless God Himself calls the thing a rose, then by golly, it Is a rose. But last I heard, God didn't run for and win office here.

We argue with facts, which Congressman Lagman is doing, by the way. Very enlightening speech.

If we’re afraid that the past is coming back to haunt us, that is our prerogative- fueled by instinct- honed by thousands of years of evolving. If we ignore it, we might as well consider ourselves extinct. Now. Here.

Finally.

The best way to quell people’s fears and doubts isn’t to go and tell them to shut up. Or to go and arrest them for them to shut up. You contain pressure and it can only explode. What you do is stick to your mandate, which is to care for All the people of this country- not only to those you’re indebted to- and… explain.

Proclamation 1017

2006-02-25T02:18:00.000+08:00

This isn’t the first time that Arroyo called out the armed forces pursuant to the Executive Power under Section 18, Article VII of the Constitution. The Supreme Court had occasion to rule on the same in the case of Sanlakas v Reyes (GRN 159085; February 2004).

The Sanlakas case delved on the President’s declaration of a State of Rebellion, in Proclamation No. 427, which was issued in the wake of what we now call the Oakwood Mutiny. The issue which the Court had to resolve was: Whether the President is authorized to declare a State of Rebellion.

The answer is YES. The Court ruled that… “the Commander-in-Chief powers are broad enough as it is and become more so when taken together with the provision on executive power and the presidential oath of office. Thus, the plenitude of the powers of the presidency equips the occupant with the means to address exigencies or threats which undermine the very existence of government or the integrity of the State”.

Point is, the President has the power to declare anything, especially since the Proclamation didn’t really do anything except proclaim to the world that there was a State of Rebellion in the country. The Court called it a superfluity. She didn’t need to Proclaim it. It was within her powers to declare such a State.

Okay, no problem. Anyway, the Court ruled on that issue when it was already moot and academic. The President had already declared that the State of Rebellion had ceased.

What about this Proclamation 1017 that was foisted on us Feb 24th? Again, its bases are: the Commander-in-Chief Powers of the President and the temporary takeover of businesses provision in Article XII of the Constitution. Let’s deal with those two in seriatim.

First, as to the Commander-n-Chief powers. Section 18, Article VII of the Constitution provides that:

Sec. 18. The President shall be the Commander-in-Chief of all armed forces of the Philippines and whenever it becomes necessary, he may call out such armed forces to prevent or suppress lawless violence, invasion or rebellion.... In case of invasion or rebellion, when the public safety requires it, he may, for a period not exceeding sixty days, suspend the privilege of the writ of habeas corpus or place the Philippines or any part thereof under martial law. Within forty-eight hours from the proclamation of martial law or the suspension of the writ of habeas corpus, the President shall submit a report in person or in writing to the Congress. The Congress, voting jointly, by a vote of at least a majority of all its Members in regular or special session, may revoke such proclamation or suspension, which revocation shall not be set aside by the President. Upon the initiative of the President, the Congress may, in the same manner, extend such proclamation or suspension for a period to be determined by the Congress, if the invasion or rebellion shall persist and public safety requires it.
The Congress, if not in session, shall, within twenty-four hours following such proclamation or suspension, convene in accordance with its rules without need of a call.
The Supreme Court may review, in an appropriate proceeding filed by any citizen, the sufficiency of the factual basis for the proclamation of martial law or the suspension of the privilege of the writ of habeas corpus or the extension thereof, and must promulgate its decision thereon within thirty days from its filing.
A state of martial law does not suspend the operation of the Constitution, nor supplant the functioning of the civil courts or legislative assemblies, nor authorize the conferment of the jurisdiction on military courts and agencies over civilians where civil courts are able to function, nor automatically suspend the privilege of the writ.
The suspension of the privilege of the writ shall apply only to persons judicially charged for rebellion or offenses inherent in or directly connected with invasion.
During the suspension of the privilege of the writ, any person thus arrested or detained shall be judicially charged within three days, otherwise he shall be released.

Section 18 gives the President three powers as CommanderinChief: 1.) the power to call out the Armed Forces; 2.) the power to suspend the privilege of the writ of habeas corpus; 3.) the power to declare martial law. (Sanlakas v Reyes, supra.)

Supposedly, what we’re concerned with, in Proc 1017, is the first power, the power to call out the armed forces. This power is vested on the President to exercise at her own discretion. Congress can’t revoke any act based on this power; the Supreme Court can’t touch it (unless the President exercised it with Grave Abuse of Discretion- Section 1, Article VIII, Constitution).

Okay. But what exactly does this power mean?

Its net effect, as explained by Fr. Bernas is that the President is the supreme military authority. She can direct the movements of the military forces, and to deploy them in the manner most effectual to harass, conquer and subdue the enemy.

This power is all the more necessary whenever the State has to defend itself.

There are two criteria for the exercise of this power:

1.) Whenever it becomes necessary;
2.) to suppress lawless violence, invasion, or rebellion.

Okay. We shouldn’t have any qualms with that. But are the criteria fulfilled? We can’t really ever tell because we don’t have access to Intelligence. However, we can possibly check its use by the acts that the government does to enforce it.

What about this statement that warrantless arrests can be made? The Constitution doesn’t say that it allows that. Before arrests can be made, the Executive should have to first apply for a warrant of arrest.

The only time when you can be arrested without a warrant is when you’re caught in the act, or red-handed.

The catch is, as Fr Bernas (Ateneo) and Dean Valdez (FEU) were pointing out the whole day, rebellion is a continuing crime. So, even when you’re at home and taking a bath or you’re in the john, you can still be arrested without a warrant, so long as you’ve been in the act of committing rebellion.

Next. Can the government take over businesses temporarily?

The basis for that supposition is Section 17, Article XII of the Constitution.

The problem is, this provision is under the Article on National Economy and Patrimony. So it makes sense to interpret it as being effective only when the National Emergency is Economic in nature. The whereas clauses of the Proclamation say that the Proclamation was issued mostly for reasons of national defense. As to whether the supposed "destabilization" rumors are affecting the economy, I distinctly remember the government crowing about our economic performance of late, so I don’t really see how this provision applies.

As of this writing, the offices of the Daily Tribune were raided (see the prohibition on the carrying of propaganda by the media and this warning against networks). The Tribune isn’t exactly all praises for this administration. But I still don’t know why it should be raided. I suppose the Executive will justify its raid on the temporary takeover of businesses provision. Don’t get me wrong, but I am reminded of a time three decades ago when some of the things that seem to be happening today seem to be similar to what happened then. And way back when, it wasn’t called a State of Emergency, it was called Something Else. That Something Else, is precisely why our present Constitution was written the way it is. The President has the power to declare that Something Else, but Congress can revoke the declaration. There are checks and balances (the Supreme Court can also review the factual basis). And there are safeguards ie, the Constitution remains operational, and the civil courts retain their jurisdiction over civilians.

Of course, if that Something Else is named Some Other Thing, such as a State of Something Other, then we’ll all be lolling about confused and witless, not knowing whether Congress has the power to revoke this… Something Other.

Who was it who said that, “I may not like what you say against me, but I will defend your right to say it.”?

Section 17, Article VII (Constitution) says, "The President… shall ensure that the laws be faithfully executed." Those laws include the Bill of Rights, which include the Freedom of Speech and our rights against Unreasonable Searches and Seizures, and the Protection of Life, Liberty and Property without the Due Process of Law." Shall. The President Shall.

State of Emergency

2006-02-24T15:16:00.000+08:00

Woke up late at 0730h, looking for my Civil Law Review Outline. Class is at 1400h.

Then people started texting me that there were no classes today.

Okay.

I switched on the news. Wow.

General Lim is being detained for asking permission to go join the rallies. I think the government is saying that there was a coup.

Granted that freedom of speech is restricted for men in the armed forces, it was still shocking to hear of people in the military who actually wanted his/ her Commander-in-Chief to step down. You have to ask why.

Then later, while I was having a very late breakfast, it was announced that the President had just issued Proclamation No. 1017, declaring a State of National Emergency. Immediate confusion. Martial Law?

Mike Defensor was on air to say that what this means is…

1.) Some people will be arrested without need for a warrant of arrest;
2.) Government can takeover certain businesses.

Okay.

If you want a definition of irony, then I don’t know how it can not be any clearer. Mind that it’s the twentieth anniversary of People Power tomorrow.

At around noon, Sec. Bunye held a press conference and gave the basis for Proclamation 1017:

1.) Section 18, Article VII, Constitution and,
2.) Section 17, Article XII of the Constitution.

Section 18, Article VII states…
The President shall be the Commander-in-Chief of all armed forces of the Philippines and whenever it becomes necessary, he may call out such armed forces to prevent or suppress lawless violence, invasion or rebellion….

Section 17, Article XII of the Constitution says…
In times of national emergency, when the public interest so requires, the State may, during the emergency and under reasonable terms prescribed by it, temporarily take over or direct the operation of any privately-owned public utility or business affected with public interest.

The prudent man asks: Where is this lawless violence, invasion, or rebellion (Sec 18, Article VII, 1987 Constitution) that justified the President in calling out the Armed Forces? What makes it necessary?

What is this “national emergency” that we’re in? Does the public interest require the takeover of businesses?

Warrantless arrests? Section 2, Article III of the Bill of Rights says that people have the right “to be secure in their persons… against unreasonable searches and seizures.” We cannot be arrested without a warrant of arrest (unless the person is caught red handed, or in flagrante delicto).

And you know what? Even if the President actually declares martial law, which supposedly this State of National Emergency is not, “A state of martial law does not suspend the operation of the Constitution….” (Section 18, Article VII) So, what is this thing about arresting people without warrants?

Government takeover of businesses? First, the government will have to prove that there is a national emergency. A national emergency, meaning a real one, not one that is only in its head. Second, the government will have to show that the national interest requires the takeover. I don’t know if it’s just me, but I look at this provision as one envisioning a circumstance where the public interest is being subverted because there is a monopoly in the operation of utilities. Third, this may actually be repugnant to the Constitution. “No person can be deprived of life, liberty and property without due process of law….” (Section 1, Article III, Bill of Rights). Wow. if I were a media company, I'd actually be in a quandary and debating whether I should continue not to be remiss in my duties as a journalist because, wow_ the government can actually take over my business...?

When Secretary Defensor spoke in emotionless tones of…

1.) Warrantless arrests, and
2.) Takeover of businesses….

What sprang to my mind is: Martial Law? Is it? It’s dangerous to use that term because under the Constitution, under the same provision that the government is quoting (Section 18, Article VII), Congress can revoke the imposition of Martial Law; and, the Supreme Court can review the sufficiency of Martial Law and strike it down as unconstitutional if need be.

Okay. As to what this State of Emergency really is, well, we’ll see.

(Happy EDSA day.) Have we forgotten what it's about? Nakalimutan mo na ba?

de facto officer

2006-02-21T22:39:00.000+08:00

Something occurred to me this afternoon.

We were discussing the difference between de jure and de facto officers in Poli Law Review.

De jure officers are public officers who have lawful title over the office. Meaning, they were appointed or elected in the proper course of things. But they may not have possession of the office because of a confluence of events such as, well, being unlawfully separated from it or by being ousted from the office.

De facto officers meanwhile, are those persons who do not have lawful title over the office but have possession of the office, and are holding it by mere acquiescence of the people. Not having lawful title over the office means that something is wrong or irregular with their appointment or with the way they were elected into office (among other things).

Which got me thinking….

Can you give an example of a de facto officer?

Let me see….

No lawful title. Either faulty appointment or fraudulently elected… but is holding office only with the mere acquiescence of the people.

Fraudulently elected.

Holding office.

Only holding it because of the acquiescence of the people.

Gloria? Haha. By jove.

;)

Run-over, mudslid, and a trophy

2006-02-19T21:43:00.000+08:00

Sad news from this side of the UP Fair. Word has been going around that a high school student was killed in the fair grounds. I have to warn you that this is unsubstantiated, meaning that I don’t have a source to name- or maim, if it’s not true. But I texted and asked everyone I know and everyone confirmed that it was true.

From the accounts. A boy was lying down in the Sunken Garden, sleeping behind a Pajero (from other accounts, it was an F150), when its owner decided to leave the Fair grounds by backing up….

Everyone swears this story is true. If you have a link which confirms it, I’ll sure appreciate the URL. (Thanks.)

In sports news, the Red Bull Barakos won the SanMig Fiesta cup Sunday evening (Feb 19, 2006), and I’m waxing sentimental about it.

Finally. I don’t know what to say about the Leyte mudslide. I’m sure most everyone has already gone on and blogged about it. I offer my condolences. For those who want to offer help, I think MLQ3d knows where, how we can help.

Even your local parish, for those who are Catholics are accepting donations.

quickly

2006-02-17T10:34:00.000+08:00

Quick posts.

I outlined the Transitory Powers of the President in the draft Consti being prepared by Congress (based on Bernas’ column) in my Dictum blog.

Next. LK and I set up a blog on all things basketball. (Seen the PBA lately? I kind’a miss having Ginebra in the Finals. The last time they were there, it was damn near impossible to get a ticket. Hay.)

mystery

2006-02-16T09:14:00.000+08:00

I have this habit of texting people whenever I’m befuddled with questions that can never be answered.

What is God? Is he an alien?

Who created him?

Is he just an artificial construct created just to make people toe the line? (If you don’t, you burn in Hell.)

Which begs the question… Did We in fact, create God?

Why are we here? Who are we?

Interesting lines of inquiry, when you’ve nothing to do. Or when you’re seeking for a good excuse to quit doing any kind of work. Not for purposes of calming the Boss, of course, but simply to justify your momentary indolence. (As in, I really need a coupl'a minutes alone to sort things out.)

Some few years ago, while I was in the midst of doing nothing, probably lying down, supine, on the floor, lazily humming to myself, I came upon this theory which spelled out for me one possible reason why there are many religions.

I mean, your basic kinds of religion espouse the same thing: Be a good man. Or woman. That’s it. Why did there have to be so many of them when essentially they’re all the same? Only the manner of worship and of practice differ. Maybe some knots and ends will vary, but at the core, they’re the same, with the same message: Be a good guy/ girl. Or else.

A re-imagining.

Millennia ago, when people were already in existence and when they’d already formed communities, an announcement was made. Whoever made the announcement, or how it was made is already lost, even by tradition.

The announcement went...

Hear ye, hear ye. (Or something of the sort.)

God wants to meet you peoples of the world. He wants to know your names, and ask of your stations.

And- why don’t we agree on a few rules while we're already there?

PS

Send only one representative per community. We prepared food for 200 people only.

Oh, and, very important, bring paper and a pencil so that you can take notes. (Ballpens weren't invented yet.)

Of course, the peoples of the Earth didn’t know who this God was, but that thing about food sounded interesting. People lobbied for themselves to be sent as representatives. Some... they gave out money so that people will vote for them. Some shacked up with- sucked up to- the people who mattered. (Remember, only one was required per community.)

So. Each community around the world sent their own representative. These representatives braved scorching deserts, swam through lakes, built rafts to cross the perilous seas, and hacked their way through dense jungles so that they can all go to the agreed meeting place.

They brought paper and a pencil. (One guy brought a stone tablet. I think his name rhymed with Noses.)

One even brought two pencils. Just in case. (I think his name rhymed with Abernakunesasardebasaheeb-Garcia.)

So the people of the Earth met in this one place, and they were introduced to God, who told them that He created them. They wrote this down.

They also all agreed on certain imperative rules such as: don’t lust after your neighbor’s wife (or wives), don’t hurt each other, don’t kill each other, and most especially, brush your teeth when you wake up, before you start talking to other people, etcetera. Or else. (Cue lightning. Roar of thunder.) They also wrote these rules down.

After the representatives partook of the free meal (which only consisted of a bottle of juice and a crappy sandwich), they went back to their respective communites so that they can report what was told in the meeting to their fellows, some men muttering, "Whatthe?!? I shacked up with Mayor Julio just so I can eat a crappy sandwich?" (Back then, every man voted into office became known as "Mayor Julio". Back then also, women weren't voted into office. Because they were smart. They didn't run for office. If they ran and won and became known as "Mayor Julio," they won't ever ever get married. I mean, I would Never marry a Mayor Julio. Unless she maybe looked like Naomi Watts.)

On the way back, they braved scorching deserts, swam through lakes, built rafts to cross the perilous seas, and hacked their way through dense jungles so that they can all go back home.

Unfortunately, for the lot of them, as they attempted to get home, they lost a few sheets of the paper on which they wrote their notes. For some of the representatives, the paper on which they wrote was ruined by rain, some partially, some totally. Some representatives, they were chased by dogs. When they were later asked what happened to their notes, they just answered matter-of-factly, The dog ate it. And it was probably true. (The Noses guy, even though he wrote on and was carrying stone tablets, he returned the tablets to his people intact. I heard he did this by_ get this, parting the sea and not having to row over it. Haha.)

The result of which was that when these representatives returned home, they each told their fellows what they could only recall of the meeting, because their notes were either incomplete or they'd gone kaput. And really_ no one will be the wiser. (Some representatives actually didn't bring enough paper, and the other reps there who had extra pieces of paper wouldn't give them any, so they wrote in small unreadable case to try fit everything in.)

Human memory being what it is, some of them forgot some details, others added to what was said, some recalled an entirely different set of facts. And so, for some communities, they were told that they were allowed to marry only once; for others, they were told that they could marry lots of times; for others, all they were told to do is lust after one another, and not after another's wife (or wives). That’s it.

Some reported of one God creating them, others reported of two, or of three, some even reported that there were a host of Gods.

But the substance remained the same which is that: 1. Peoples are beings who were created; and, 2. that God created them; and finally, 3. that they had better be good. Or else.

(Of course, some of the representatives reported that there was no God, that the whole thing was simply a ploy to market bottles of juice and crappy sandwiches.)

The point?

Ah. I was texting and asking most everyone I knew why life had to be confusing and hard and crappy (yes, like the sandwiches).

I received a host of answers, but the best answer of which went…

Life is a mystery to be lived, not a mystery to be solved.

Bravo.

from the NBA to the Freedom of Speech and Expression, or: How did it get there?

2006-02-12T07:51:00.000+08:00

Reading LK’s exposition on the sports theme….

She and I were talking last night, about how it would be nice to get a job in the NBA. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m a certified Ginebra fanatic (too bad they lost this conference), but there’re just so many things to do in the NBA.

I’ll digress. Every so often, when my friend, car15full_auto, and I would meet we’d always go on and talk about writing a lot of stuff. Car15, who works for an NGO, told me to mind the agri funds while the last election period was going on. Surprise, surprise. There’s 780 million pesos of it that’s unaccounted for today.

Where was I? Ah. Car15 first led me to Gary Allen’s None Dare Call it Conspiracy, and John Stormer’s None Dare Call it Treason. Not that I’ve read them from cover to cover. But their basic premise is this: the American Government is fooling its citizens some of the time through an elaborate conspiracy which would amount to treason if these acts were done by ordinary citizens.

Granted, the folks in Our government are too fickle in their loyalties to make up even one lasting conspiracy, so I see little application for that book here. Although you can make a case for its having an indirect application because America, big as it is, whatever it does and decides to do should affect everything around it (read: everyone).

Where was I…?

Ah, the point. The book is important because it shows you how free the US is, in terms of the Freedom of Speech and of Expression.

We have the same thing ingrained in Our Constitution, somewhere in the Bill of Rights (Sec 4, Art III, I think), which says, “No law shall be passed abridging the freedom of speech, of expression, and of the press….” Okay. No law Is being passed. Anyway, the Supreme Court will shoot that down before it becomes effective, HOWEVER, you don’t need a law to stifle your freedoms of speech, etcetera, etcetera. Someone Speaks and it's not the Supreme Court that does the shooting. You don't need a law to gag your Freedoms. You only need to be passive. You only need to not care.

How many journalists have already been killed this year? Two, by my count (and I have newspaper backlogs), and it’s not yet even Valentine’s.

The point? Ah. Much as we would malign the US for its many misdeeds, you’d have to admit that they’re freer there. (Freer. Not that they're totally free.) Can you imagine speaking out, nah, publishing a book against the officials of this country (especially the local officials) and not be visited by Harm?

I mean, even if you’re the bravest man on this planet, if you have a family or loved one somewhere, there’s your weakness right there (not a subtle ad for Firewall).

I was telling Car15 that for anyone to be an effective Graft-Government buster, you’d have to be big-balled and, more importantly (every one of us is afraid of something), alone. So alone that if you die without leaving a last will and testament, your properties go to the State.

Hay. (See also Dom’s entry.)

Where was I? Ah, because in the NBA, you could travel with the team and write, and do nothing but. You could analyze plays, maybe join the staff, maybe mix some math in to make your articles look scientific (and they’ll be). Plus, I won’t have to feel guilty when I watch the games (like I do now.) And the only shooting that goes on there is when the ball drops into the basket. Freer.