Vanishing points

It’s the end of the year and time to list down the things that we could do away with in 2017.

Trolls. Several of them descended on my radio-TVshow Remoto Control one night and said that I must be “gay because you are against President Duterte.” They must have been first in line when God was giving out idiocy; they were not only present but they carried buckets and pails as well. I was talking against extra-judicial killings and taking pains to explain that the heart of the problem lies with two words: due process.

Even if it’s the devil, he or she should still be given his or her day in court. Unless and until these words have been excised from the Constitution, then they are still entitled to the whole panoply of the judicial process.

However, some of them did turn around and apologized to me. They monitored my show nightly and found out that, as they say, “you are not bias.” I applauded the good things the Duterte administration has done: shorter waiting time for the next MRT train, faster delivery of relief goods, finished roads one after the other, a grand plan for infrastructure, the works. One of them said, “I am from Davao and I truly appreciate the fine balance of judgment that you do in your show.” Mabuti naman.

I also reminded the bashers that then-Mayor Duterte was one of the first people to come to the defense of Ladlad Party List when it was being demonized by the then-Commission on Elections. They accused us of “being a threat to the youth and of peddling immoral values.” Mayor Duterte blasted the Comelec and accused some of them of extortion (hee-haw) and said that I have more male hormones than many of them. O di ba?

Speaking of bashing, I felt discomfort about the accusations against Vice President Leni Robredo which, frankly speaking, her earnest but very young  team could have handled better. She landed on the covers of several glossy magazines month after month, and this became fusillade for those opposing her. I would have said yes to Esquire magazine, but maybe not with the others, because Esquire has substance and style. But to say “yes” to glossy magazine covers leads to the Tagalog word umay, with one wag even saying, “It’s not yet election season why is she already on the covers of the magazines?”

Which led some people to surmise she must not be doing anything. Well. during the time of Vice-President Jojo Binay, the yearly budget of the VP’s office was more or less the same as the pork barrel of a single senator: P200 million. I think this was slashed under VP Robredo’s term, and pray tell, what can you do with less than P200 million a year? That is not even enough to provide relief goods (food and basic necessities), not to mention rehabilitation and recovery efforts (infrastructure plus livelihood), for the hardest-hit towns in Camarines Sur.

Robredo is not a diva, but divas I have met in abundance the past several years. One was in her late 50s, a senior manager in this international organization I worked for, who would, after lunch time, play Moon River the whole afternoon while she slept in the office beside mine. I think she looped the song because it played incessantly for four hours, 1-5 PM, while the rest of us worked. She was quick to spread lies about her office mates, to blacken the reputation of those she did not like, invent unsavory stories about her enemies, which in this case meant 90 percent of the office. And so when her mother died, she did not tell anyone in the office, because she knew nobody would condole with her, and when she mercifully retired at the age of 62 (required in this office), nobody gave her a farewell party/

She quickly applied for other jobs in other international organizations, but she was rebuffed, one application after another, like dominoes falling by the wayside. She must have forgotten it is a small world: you shit in one office, the rest of the universe will smell it.

Another diva I met would blame others for the mishaps in the office, not knowing that the problem was technological: the computers were not wired well to each other, such that when you edit in Computer A, not all the corrections would be seen in Computer B. She would scream at the top of her lungs to berate people, forgetting that they are all colleagues and her age (she is past retirement age) should not be a reason for her to spread the poison of her dementia in the office. Upon closer scrutiny, it seems that she lives alone, in a high-rise condo with her jade and pets, and still rues to this day a lost love that her parents did not approve of, half a century ago. Tough luck, madame.

Still another diva was insecure about younger people going to graduate school while working in the office. Wouldn’t it be better for the office if its staff have higher education and higher IQs, since this would eventually benefit the office in terms of productivity and prestige? But no, sir, she would rather boss everyone around, and upon closer scrutiny, it seems to appear that she was not well-educated herself and is an unhappy woman.

Unhappiness seems to fester in our politics as well, with some new senators notable for their lack of gravitas and plain common sense. One of them hired his wife’s relatives as his consultants, and it seems they are as unprepared as he is, and how then can the blind lead the blind?

That is why in 2017, I will just stick to teaching, and to writing, and to running a small college. I will still analyze the news, report on history, read literature in the air waves. I will defend my PhD dissertation, finish my law studies, write new books. The trolls, divas, and puerile politicians can have the center stage, but in my book, the spotlight will not be on them.

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