When character really counts

Twitter brings out the worst in us; or even worse, demonstrates how dumb, crass, inane, ignorant, unintelligent we really are as a species. Perhaps it has less to do with the fact that we are confined by 140 characters but rather that it has broken us down to the essence of what we really are intellectually capable of, that most of us are really only meant to express ourselves within such limitations. The prevalence or eminence of blogging is on the way down; the ones that remain are exceptions, aberrations, or already institutions. Twitter or “micro-blogging” as it was first introduced is truly a far more democratic medium, that doesn’t inspire poetic brevity so much as it does the demonstration of our stupidity. Or, even more damning, the utter banality of our own thought.

It is entertaining and addictive in the way watching the Kardashians is. Like that other reality television hit, Big Brother, (which takes its moniker from Orwell’s novel but ironically turns its contemptible mug, that vision of the future of a face with a boot in its face forever, inside out) it doesn’t demarcate us from them (i.e. faded celebrities, fame whores, frail egos) but how much we are all like them. We watch for the same reason Narcissus gazed at his reflection. Unlike the latter mythologized figure though, it is a pretty ugly picture that we can’t manage to stop ourselves from gazing at.

Two recent events elucidate these observations. The recent uprisings in the Middle East, in particular in Egypt, garnered a lot of comment in the Twitter-verse. The overthrow of Mubarak generated a lot of approving tweets, the gamut of them welcoming the Egyptian community to the democratic world, likening them to our own 1986 People Power revolt in the case of local tweeters.

First and foremost, the assumption that Egypt will now be a democracy is based on an ignorance of the prevailing situation in that area of the world or a blindness of what is unfurling now as a result. With the dissolution of Parliament, the most likely scenario is that Egypt will now be ruled by a military junta or plunged into civil war in the coming months. If there are elections, there is a great possibility that, like other countries in the Middle East, it may lead to the rise of theocratic political party like Hamas in Palestine.

The comparison to the EDSA revolt is as misguided as the notion that the Cairo uprising was a social media revolution. If anything, they share only the most superficial of resemblances. The number of those injured or dead as a result of violence in Tahir Square is glaring enough to differentiate the two. More importantly, they do not have a figure as remarkable or as iconic as our own Cory Aquino leading the opposition. If anything, what can be gleaned from the recent events in Egypt is what would’ve happened if we didn’t have Cory, a scenario not unlike what Juan Ponce Enrile would’ve preferred to happen in 1986.

But of course someone somewhere has probably already tweeted that, “Today we are all Egyptians.” No, we’re not. It’s a thought as mesocephalic as the Fox anchor declaring the overthrow of Mubarak as akin to America’s “victory in Iraq.”

Of course, a lot of those tweeters are declared liberals and don’t watch Fox News. In fact, they’ve already switched channels and tuned Egypt out to play “do-gooders” elsewhere.

The death of Angelo Reyes is another case in point. He’s been derided as a coward and a thief by many on Twitter, who often use metaphorical clichés like “in my book” before passing judgment, demonstrating that they can only mean literally the aforementioned tomes to be their own diaries (i.e. solipsistic drivel).

First of all, the perception that suicide as something dishonorable or an act of cowardice is a Western bias that is not shared by other prominent cultures, particularly in Asia. The monk in that famous photograph setting himself on fire in protest certainly can’t be accused of being a coward. Or author Yukio Mishima, who committed seppuku as an act of patriotism. Breaking into an army camp with a small band of followers, he incited them to revolt for the restoration of the emperor’s powers. After which, he disemboweled himself before being beheaded by one of his cohorts in accordance with the suicide ritual.

The way Reyes killed himself, aiming the gun to his chest and pulling the trigger with his thumb is one of the most difficult ways of shooting oneself. It takes a steady hand and a steeled nerve to do it. If we are to peruse the available studies on suicide or “suicidology,” there may be a marked difference to people who shoot themselves in the head—a large percentage of whom actually survive the gunshot. It suggests that, unlike the latter method, it is not done without careful consideration or borne of an emotional need to escape. There is usually a concrete objective or point to be achieved by the act.

All of this is not meant to attribute the motives of the examples cited above or the conclusions cited by certain experts to the case of Reyes. But it is only brought up to make the point that we really don’t know or have the right to make pat or smug conclusions on his motives. Emile Durkheim’s landmark study on the subject goes only to show that suicide is a very complex subject. He wrote an entire book about it: you can only (barely) manage to churn out 140 characters.

For those who have condemned him as being guilty of pocketing military funds, it should be pointed out that no court has tried nor convicted him. Presidential spokesperson Edwin Lacierda is right in that until then the legal assumption is that he is innocent. No one—most especially Mikey Arroyo—should use his death as proof of anything just yet.

I’m also guilty of being stupid on Twitter as well. But some are more stupid than others. There are matters that are not for casual commentary or lightly discussed. On these, such as the two examples discussed in this article, it might be best to listen and keep silent first instead of adding to the din of the unruly mob. Unfortunately, there is a noticeable lack of character nowadays to keep the count down.

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This one’s for my personal ‘Gipper”—my dad, who is wisest person I know and one of the last statesmen. When character was king, indeed.