[Note: For those old enough to remember, the late Fr. James Donelan, S.J., the Chaplain of a colorum (his word) parish at the Asian Institute of Management (AIM), would always have a special homily on Valentine’s Day during his 12:15 noontime mass. When I was still working in Makati, I would walk from Salcedo Village to Legaspi Village to make it in time for his 12:15 mass at AIM. Each year, his Valentine’s Day mass would be packed to the rafters and each year, those who went would not be disappointed. In 1998, the year he passed on to the Father, a collection of Fr. Jim’s homilies was published; it is entitled “God’s Crooked Lines: The Search for Truth.” I was delighted to see that it contains one of my all-time favorites ever from Fr. Jim’s vast collection. It is a homily he gave one pre-Valentine’s Day mass. I take the liberty of setting it out in full here.
It is a homily to be read quietly in quiet reflection but later to be read aloud in loving company; but it is, most of all, a homily to be read with loved ones and those whom we love in the company of He who loved us first, loves us most and loves us for all eternity.]
“A Love Story”
Fr. James F. Donelan, S.J.
If by some happy chance you should ever find yourself in the Italian city of Florence, take a little time out for a sentimental pilgrimage. Leave the Piazza Vecchio, cross over the Ponte Vecchio, where the goldsmith shops are. Go up the Via Maggiore towards the Pitti Palazzo where, just opposite the Palazzo and the Church of San Felice, stands the Casa Guidi. This is the shrine of our pilgrimage.
It is a proper pilgrimage to make as Valentine’s Day approaches. For here in this old ancestral house of the Guidi family was enacted one of the great love stories of all times.
I would like you to relive with me two touching scenes from that love story.
The first scene takes place on an early spring morning in the year 1849. Standing on the street below, we can see the large windows of the Casa Guidi open up, and a man, an Englishman, stands there looking across towards San Felice, but actually lost in thought. He is a writer, a poet, and he is thinking about what he will write that day. He doesn’t hear his wife come up behind him until he feels her hand push some papers into his pocket, and turning, he sees her fleeing from the room.
An hour later, he is still standing there by the window, his cheeks wet with tears. For what he read in his wife’s neat handwriting on the crumpled sheets of paper was the answer to a question, an answer which he kept to himself for twelve years. Until his wife died. Then he gave it to the world. We all know now both the question and the answer:
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach . . .
I love thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs. . .
. . . with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints—I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! –and if God choose,
I shall love thee better after death.
Elizabeth Barrett, the Englishman’s wife who wrote those lines, never dreamt she would ever say such things, feel such things. At 16, she had fallen from a horse. The injury developed into tuberculosis. It also gave a tyrannically possessive father the weapon with which to imprison her for 15 years in a room where no brightness, neither of smile nor of sunshine, ever came. To pass the time, she wrote poems. A kindly uncle published some of them.
One day she received a note which read, “I love your poetry with all my heart, and I love you too.” Signed, Robert Browning.
What followed is an astonishing example of the power of love. Elizabeth escaped from her father’s house, married Robert Browning and sailed to Italy, to Florence, to the Casa Guidi on Via Maggiore, which was to be her home until she died. That “incurable” invalid bore her husband a son, and so filled his heart with song that Robert Browning became one of England’s great poets. While she, transformed by his love, wrote a collection of sonnets which earned for her an immortal place among the world’s great poets of love. My young friends, what advice do you think Elizabeth Browning would have for you today?
I choose to ask Elizabeth rather than her husband because I have found, at least in my reading of literature, that while male poets like Sydney, Wyatt, Shakespeare, John Donne excel in expressing their love, it is the women who get to the heart of the matter. Perhaps because, as Jane Austen, an English novelist, wrote: Love is only a part of a man’s life. It is a woman’s whole life. And she went on to say that while men may love as long as there is hope, women love long after there is none. When Jeremy Irons, playing the English gentleman, asked the French lieutenant’s woman if she walked those bleak shores waiting for her lieutenant, she proved Jane Austen’s point. She had learned, she said, that the very brave can be very false. She knew he wouldn’t return, and yet she waited.
Elizabeth’s advice to all young lovers is contained in a sonnet in which, having already told her husband how she loved him, she now tells him how she wants to be loved. She asks him not to build his love on the shifting sands of change, not on looks or mind or personality or shared interest or on pity, for “love so wrought can be unwrought so.” She writes:
If thou must love me, let it be for naught
Except for love’s sake only. Do not say
“I love her for her smile—her looks—her way
of speaking gently—for a trick of thought
that falls in well with mine, and brought
a sense of pleasant ease on such a day.”—
For these things in themselves, Beloved, may
Be changed, or, change for thee—and love so wrought
May be unwrought so. Neither love me for
Thine own dear pity’s wipingmy tears dry—
A creature might forget to weep who bore
Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby!
But love me for love’s sake that evermore
Thou mayest love on through love’s eternity.
For Elizabeth Browning, love was not an exchange. A deal. A barter. You give to me. I give to you. For her, true love was an outright, unconditional gift. It gives all and asks nothing.
The second and last scene in our love story takes place 12 years later in the same Casa Guidi. Again, it is early morning. Robert Browning is sitting fully dressed at Elizabeth’s bedside. They are alone. Elizabeth is sleeping, resting against his cheek. He has been there all night. She wakens and he asks how she feels. Later he wrote: Then came what my heart will keep until I see her again, the most perfect expression of her love for me within my whole knowledge of her. She answered his question with one word: “Beautiful.” And died.
Today, the Casa Guidi still stands there along the Via Maggiore, opposite the Pitti Palazzo. A small plaque near the door tells us that this is where Elizabeth and Robert Browning lived. But the anthologies and histories of English literature tell us more. In these pages, along with William Shakespeare and John Donne and John Keats, along with Byron and Shelley, we read the names of Robert and Elizabeth Browning, who loved each other with the breadth, smiles, and tears of all their life, and who now live on in love’s eternity.
February 13, 2006
February 09, 2006
Songs in the Key of the Spirit
Sometimes, the Spirit just moves you. . .
A week ago, during the regular music ministry Thursday practice, someone mentioned that we should sing at church. One thing led to another and then I asked the brothers and sisters there—“you want to sing for Fr. Jboy’s Wednesday masses at U.P.?” A chorus of “yes” and “why nots” followed.
Before any concrete plans could be made, I had texted Fr. Jboy and informed him that”kami’y mangahas na kakanta sa misa nyo sa darating na miyerkoles, nawa’y huwag kaming ipagtabuyan.” To which he replied, “syempre hindi, dahil wala talagang choir nun.” And before anyone could say, “we’re a church choir”, we were one.
Fast forward to yesterday. . .
I had circulated a text forward to musicmin to meet at 5 pm for practice before the mass; typically, no one texted back to confirm. So, I must admit to feeling some anxiety because we hadn’t practiced, no one had confirmed—everything was so. . . Spirit-led and Spirit-moved. So, before 6 pm yesterday, just after I finished class, I was texting Ella about it and even told her if no one comes, I might just tell Fr. Jboy next week na lang.
A mustard seed would be spacious enough to fit my faith. . . when I got to the U.P. Chapel, I saw Alan on the floor playing his guitar, Nick, Darleth, Gem, and was told that Ria and Jas were also around; a few minutes after, Len arrived. Then, it struck me. . . this was it, we were really doing this!
Talk about being led by the Spirit.
These were not sisters and brothers who worked or lived nearby. Len worked in Mandaluyong and for a company that was notorious for keeping its employees beyond office hours—yet she was there! Gem was so new to Lingkod but she was there as well. God is good because He enables those He calls.
Ella and Grace would later complete the cast which took to the risers. Despite lack of practice, it was spirited singing and Spirit-led singing. It brought me back to high school and it was a good—no, great---feeling.
Fr. Jboy would meet us after the mass to thank us; but I thanked him for allowing us yet another venue—the most logical venue for most of us, actually—to serve Him and to bring Him glory.
See you next Wednesday, brothers and sisters.
A week ago, during the regular music ministry Thursday practice, someone mentioned that we should sing at church. One thing led to another and then I asked the brothers and sisters there—“you want to sing for Fr. Jboy’s Wednesday masses at U.P.?” A chorus of “yes” and “why nots” followed.
Before any concrete plans could be made, I had texted Fr. Jboy and informed him that”kami’y mangahas na kakanta sa misa nyo sa darating na miyerkoles, nawa’y huwag kaming ipagtabuyan.” To which he replied, “syempre hindi, dahil wala talagang choir nun.” And before anyone could say, “we’re a church choir”, we were one.
Fast forward to yesterday. . .
I had circulated a text forward to musicmin to meet at 5 pm for practice before the mass; typically, no one texted back to confirm. So, I must admit to feeling some anxiety because we hadn’t practiced, no one had confirmed—everything was so. . . Spirit-led and Spirit-moved. So, before 6 pm yesterday, just after I finished class, I was texting Ella about it and even told her if no one comes, I might just tell Fr. Jboy next week na lang.
A mustard seed would be spacious enough to fit my faith. . . when I got to the U.P. Chapel, I saw Alan on the floor playing his guitar, Nick, Darleth, Gem, and was told that Ria and Jas were also around; a few minutes after, Len arrived. Then, it struck me. . . this was it, we were really doing this!
Talk about being led by the Spirit.
These were not sisters and brothers who worked or lived nearby. Len worked in Mandaluyong and for a company that was notorious for keeping its employees beyond office hours—yet she was there! Gem was so new to Lingkod but she was there as well. God is good because He enables those He calls.
Ella and Grace would later complete the cast which took to the risers. Despite lack of practice, it was spirited singing and Spirit-led singing. It brought me back to high school and it was a good—no, great---feeling.
Fr. Jboy would meet us after the mass to thank us; but I thanked him for allowing us yet another venue—the most logical venue for most of us, actually—to serve Him and to bring Him glory.
See you next Wednesday, brothers and sisters.
February 06, 2006
Bono Speaks
Thank you, Sheila, for providing me the link to this. I had read about his remarks but the link allowed me to read and savor exactly what he said. In case you haven’t noticed, Bono is way up there in my list of people I look up to—this may give you an idea why.
***CHECK AGAINST DELIVERY***
BONO
REMARKS AT THE NATIONAL PRAYER BREAKFAST
Thank you.
Mr. President, First Lady, King Abdullah, Other heads of State, Members of Congress, distinguished guests…
Please join me in praying that I don’t say something we’ll all regret. That was for the FCC.
If you’re wondering what I’m doing here, at a prayer breakfast, well, so am I. I’m certainly not here as a man of the cloth, unless that cloth is leather. It’s certainly not because I’m a rock star. Which leaves one possible explanation: I’m here because I’ve got a messianic complex.
Yes, it’s true. And for anyone who knows me, it’s hardly a revelation.
Well, I’m the first to admit that there’s something unnatural… something unseemly… about rock stars mounting the pulpit and preaching at presidents, and then disappearing to their villas in the South of France. Talk about a fish out of water. It was weird enough when Jesse Helms showed up at a U2 concert… but this is really weird, isn’t it?
You know, one of the things I love about this country is its separation of church and state. Although I have to say: in inviting me here, both church and state have been separated from something else completely: their mind. .
Mr. President, are you sure about this?
It’s very humbling and I will try to keep my homily brief. But be warned—I’m Irish.
I’d like to talk about the laws of man, here in this city where those laws are written. And I’d like to talk about higher laws. It would be great to assume that the one serves the other; that the laws of man serve these higher laws… but of course, they don’t always. And I presume that, in a sense, is why you’re here.
I presume the reason for this gathering is that all of us here—Muslims, Jews, Christians—all are searching our souls for how to better serve our family, our community, our nation, our God.
I know I am. Searching, I mean. And that, I suppose, is what led me here, too.
Yes, it’s odd, having a rock star here—but maybe it’s odder for me than for you. You see, I avoided religious people most of my life. Maybe it had something to do with having a father who was Protestant and a mother who was Catholic in a country where the line between the two was, quite literally, a battle line. Where the line between church and state was… well, a little blurry, and hard to see.
I remember how my mother would bring us to chapel on Sundays… and my father used to wait outside. One of the things that I picked up from my father and my mother was the sense that religion often gets in the way of God.
For me, at least, it got in the way. Seeing what religious people, in the name of God, did to my native land… and in this country, seeing God’s second-hand car salesmen on the cable TV channels, offering indulgences for cash… in fact, all over the world, seeing the self-righteousness roll down like a mighty stream from certain corners of the religious establishment…
I must confess, I changed the channel. I wanted my MTV.
Even though I was a believer.
Perhaps because I was a believer.
I was cynical… not about God, but about God’s politics. (There you are, Jim.)
Then, in 1997, a couple of eccentric, septuagenarian British Christians went and ruined my shtick—my reproachfulness. They did it by describing the Millennium, the year 2000, as a Jubilee year, as an opportunity to cancel the chronic debts of the world’s poorest people. They had the audacity to renew the Lord’s call—and were joined by Pope John Paul II, who, from an Irish half-Catholic’s point of view, may have had a more direct line to the Almighty.
‘Jubilee’—why ‘Jubilee’?
What was this year of Jubilee, this year of our Lords favor?
I’d always read the Scriptures, even the obscure stuff. There it was in Leviticus (25:35)…
‘If your brother becomes poor,’ the Scriptures say, ‘and cannot maintain himself… you shall maintain him… You shall not lend him your money at interest, not give him your food for profit.’
It is such an important idea, Jubilee, that Jesus begins his ministry with this. Jesus is a young man, he’s met with the rabbis, impressed everyone, people are talking. The elders say, he’s a clever guy, this Jesus, but he hasn’t done much… yet. He hasn’t spoken in public before…
When he does, is first words are from Isaiah: ‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,’ he says, ‘because He has anointed me to preach good news to the poor.’ And Jesus proclaims the year of the Lord’s favour, the year of Jubilee. (Luke 4:18)
What he was really talking about was an era of grace—and we’re still in it.
So fast-forward 2,000 years. That same thought, grace, was made incarnate—in a movement of all kinds of people. It wasn’t a bless-me club… it wasn’t a holy huddle. These religious guys were willing to get out in the streets, get their boots dirty, wave the placards, follow their convictions with actions… making it really hard for people like me to keep their distance. It was amazing. I almost started to like these church people.
But then my cynicism got another helping hand.
It was what Colin Powell, a five-star general, called the greatest W.M.D. of them all: a tiny little virus called A.I.D.S. And the religious community, in large part, missed it. The one’s that didn’t miss it could only see it as divine retribution for bad behaviour. Even on children… Even fastest growing group of HIV infections were married, faithful women.
Aha, there they go again! I thought to myself Judgmentalism is back!
But in truth, I was wrong again. The church was slow but the church got busy on this the leprosy of our age.
Love was on the move.
Mercy was on the move.
God was on the move.
Moving people of all kinds to work with others they had never met, never would have cared to meet… Conservative church groups hanging out with spokesmen for the gay community, all singing off the same hymn sheet on AIDS… Soccer moms and quarterbacks… hip-hop stars and country stars… This is what happens when God gets on the move: crazy stuff happens!
Popes were seen wearing sunglasses!
Jesse Helms was seen with a ghetto blaster!
Crazy stuff. Evidence of the spirit.
It was breathtaking. Literally. It stopped the world in its tracks.
When churches started demonstrating on debt, governments listened—and acted. When churches starting organising, petitioning, and even—that most unholy of acts today, God forbid, lobbying… on AIDS and global health, governments listened—and acted.
I’m here today in all humility to say: you changed minds; you changed policy; you changed the world.
Look, whatever thoughts you have about God, who He is or if He exists, most will agree that if there is a God, He has a special place for the poor. In fact, the poor are where God lives.
Check Judaism. Check Islam. Check pretty much anyone.
I mean, God may well be with us in our mansions on the hill… I hope so. He may well be with us as in all manner of controversial stuff… maybe, maybe not… But the one thing we can all agree, all faiths and ideologies, is that God is with the vulnerable and poor.
God is in the slums, in the cardboard boxes where the poor play house… God is in the silence of a mother who has infected her child with a virus that will end both their lives… God is in the cries heard under the rubble of war… God is in the debris of wasted opportunity and lives, and God is with us if we are with them. “If you remove the yolk from your midst, the pointing of the finger and speaking wickedness, and if you give yourself to the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted, then your light will rise in darkness and your gloom with become like midday and the Lord will continually guide you and satisfy your desire in scorched places”
It’s not a coincidence that in the Scriptures, poverty is mentioned more than 2,100 times. It’s not an accident. That’s a lot of air time, 2,100 mentions. [You know, the only time Christ is judgmental is on the subject of the poor.] ‘As you have done it unto the least of these my brethren, you have done it unto me.’ (Matthew 25:40). As I say, good news to the poor.
Here’s some good news for the President. After 9-11 we were told America would have no time for the World’s poor. America would be taken up with its own problems of safety. And it’s true these are dangerous times, but America has not drawn the blinds and double-locked the doors.
In fact, you have double aid to Africa. You have tripled funding for global health. Mr. President, your emergency plan for AIDS relief and support for the Global Fund—you and Congress—have put 700,000 people onto life-saving anti-retroviral drugs and provided 8 million bed nets to protect children from malaria.
Outstanding human achievements. Counterintuitive. Historic. Be very, very proud.
But here’s the bad news. From charity to justice, the good news is yet to come. There’s is much more to do. There’s a gigantic chasm between the scale of the emergency and the scale of the response.
And finally, it’s not about charity after all, is it? It’s about justice.
Let me repeat that: It’s not about charity, it’s about justice.
And that’s too bad.
Because you’re good at charity. Americans, like the Irish, are good at it. We like to give, and we give a lot, even those who can’t afford it.
But justice is a higher standard. Africa makes a fool of our idea of justice; it makes a farce of our idea of equality. It mocks our pieties, it doubts our concern, it questions our commitment.
6,500 Africans are still dying every day of a preventable, treatable disease, for lack of drugs we can buy at any drug store.
This is not about charity, this is about Justice and Equality.
Because there's no way we can look at what’s happening in Africa and, if we're honest, conclude that deep down, we really accept that Africans are equal to us. Anywhere else in the world, we wouldn’t accept it. Look at what happened in South East Asia with the Tsunami. 150, 000 lives lost to that misnomer of all misnomers, “mother nature”. In Africa, 150,000 lives are lost every month. A tsunami every month. And it’s a completely avoidable catastrophe.
It’s annoying but justice and equality are mates. Aren’t they? Justice always wants to hang out with equality. And equality is a real pain.
You know, think of those Jewish sheep-herders going to meet the Pharaoh, mud on their shoes, and the Pharaoh says, “Equal?” A preposterous idea: rich and poor are equal? And they say, “Yeah, ‘equal,’ that’s what it says here in this book. We’re all made in the image of God.” And eventually the Pharaoh says, “OK, I can accept that. I can accept the Jews—but not the blacks.”“Not the women. Not the gays. Not the Irish. No way, man.”
So on we go with our journey of equality.
On we go in the pursuit of justice.
We hear that call in the ONE Campaign, a growing movement of more than two million Americans… left and right together… united in the belief that where you live should no longer determine whether you live.
We hear that call even more powerfully today, as we mourn the loss of Coretta Scott King—mother of a movement for equality, one that changed the world but is only just getting started. These issues are as alive as they ever were; they just change shape and cross the seas.
Preventing the poorest of the poor from selling their products while we sing the virtues of the free market… that’s a justice issue. Holding children to ransom for the debts of their grandparents… That’s a justice issue. Withholding life-saving medicines out of deference to the Office of Patents… that’s a justice issue.
And while the law is what we say it is, God is not silent on the subject.
That’s why I say there’s the law of the land… and then there is a higher standard. There’s the law of the land, and we can hire experts to write them so they benefit us, so the laws say it’s OK to protect our agriculture but it’s not OK for African farmers to do the same, to earn a living?
As the laws of man are written, that’s what they say.
God will not accept that.
Mine won’t, at least. Will yours?
[pause]
I close this morning on … very… thin… ice.
This is a dangerous idea I’ve put on the table: my God vs. your God, their God vs. our God… vs. no God. It is very easy, in these times, to see religion as a force for division rather than unity.
And this is a town—Washington—that knows something of division.
But the reason I am here, and the reason I keep coming back to Washington, is because this is a town that is proving it can come together on behalf of what the Scriptures call the least of these.
This is not a Republican idea. It is not a Democratic idea. It is not even, with all due respect, an American idea. Nor it is unique to any one faith.
Do to others as you would have them do to you.’ (Luke 6:30) Jesus says that.
‘Righteousness is this: that one should… give away wealth out of love for Him to the near of kin and the orphans and the needy and the wayfarer and the beggars and for the emancipation of the captives.’ The Koran says that. (2.177)
Thus sayeth the Lord: ‘Bring the homeless poor into the house, when you see the naked, cover him, then your light will break out like the dawn and your recovery will speedily spring fourth, then your Lord will be your rear guard.’ The jewish scripture says that. Isaiah 58 again.
That is a powerful incentive: ‘The Lord will watch your back.’ Sounds like a good deal to me, right now.
A number of years ago, I met a wise man who changed my life. In countless ways, large and small, I was always seeking the Lord’s blessing. I was saying, you know, I have a new song, look after it… I have a family, please look after them… I have this crazy idea…
And this wise man said: stop.
He said, stop asking God to bless what you’re doing.
Get involved in what God is doing—because it’s already blessed.
Well, God, as I said, is with the poor. That, I believe, is what God is doing.
And that is what He’s calling us to do.
I was amazed when I first got to this country and I learned how much some churchgoers tithe. Up to ten percent of the family budget. Well, how does that compare the federal budget, the budget for the entire American family? How much of that goes to the poorest people in the world? Less than one percent.
Mr. President, Congress, people of faith, people of America:
I want to suggest to you today that you see the flow of effective foreign assistance as tithing…. Which, to be truly meaningful, will mean an additional one percent of the federal budget tithed to the poor.
What is one percent?
One percent is not merely a number on a balance sheet.
One percent is the girl in Africa who gets to go to school, thanks to you. One percent is the AIDS patient who gets her medicine, thanks to you. One percent is the African entrepreneur who can start a small family business thanks to you. One percent is not redecorating presidential palaces or money flowing down a rat hole. This one percent is digging waterholes to provide clean water.
One percent is a new partnership with Africa, not paternalism towards Africa, where increased assistance flows toward improved governance and initiatives with proven track records and away from boondoggles and white elephants of every description.
America gives less than one percent now. Were asking for an extra one percent to change the world. to transform millions of
lives—but not just that and I say this to the military men now – to transform the way that they see us.
One percent is national security, enlightened economic self interest, and a better safer world rolled into one. Sounds to me that in this town of deals and compromises, one percent is the best bargain around.
These goals—clean water for all; school for every child; medicine for the afflicted, an end to extreme and senseless poverty—these are not just any goals; they are the Millennium Development goals, which this country supports. And they are more than that. They are the Beatitudes for a Globalised World.
Now, I’m very lucky. I don’t have to sit on any budget committees. And I certainly don’t have to sit where you do, Mr. President. I don’t have to make the tough choices.
But I can tell you this:
To give one percent more is right. It’s smart. And it’s blessed.
There is a continent—Africa—being consumed by flames.
I truly believe that when the history books are written, our age will be remembered for three things: the war on terror, the digital revolution, and what we did—or did not to—to put the fire out in Africa.
History, like God, is watching what we do.
Thank you. Thank you, America, and God bless you all.
***CHECK AGAINST DELIVERY***
BONO
REMARKS AT THE NATIONAL PRAYER BREAKFAST
Thank you.
Mr. President, First Lady, King Abdullah, Other heads of State, Members of Congress, distinguished guests…
Please join me in praying that I don’t say something we’ll all regret. That was for the FCC.
If you’re wondering what I’m doing here, at a prayer breakfast, well, so am I. I’m certainly not here as a man of the cloth, unless that cloth is leather. It’s certainly not because I’m a rock star. Which leaves one possible explanation: I’m here because I’ve got a messianic complex.
Yes, it’s true. And for anyone who knows me, it’s hardly a revelation.
Well, I’m the first to admit that there’s something unnatural… something unseemly… about rock stars mounting the pulpit and preaching at presidents, and then disappearing to their villas in the South of France. Talk about a fish out of water. It was weird enough when Jesse Helms showed up at a U2 concert… but this is really weird, isn’t it?
You know, one of the things I love about this country is its separation of church and state. Although I have to say: in inviting me here, both church and state have been separated from something else completely: their mind. .
Mr. President, are you sure about this?
It’s very humbling and I will try to keep my homily brief. But be warned—I’m Irish.
I’d like to talk about the laws of man, here in this city where those laws are written. And I’d like to talk about higher laws. It would be great to assume that the one serves the other; that the laws of man serve these higher laws… but of course, they don’t always. And I presume that, in a sense, is why you’re here.
I presume the reason for this gathering is that all of us here—Muslims, Jews, Christians—all are searching our souls for how to better serve our family, our community, our nation, our God.
I know I am. Searching, I mean. And that, I suppose, is what led me here, too.
Yes, it’s odd, having a rock star here—but maybe it’s odder for me than for you. You see, I avoided religious people most of my life. Maybe it had something to do with having a father who was Protestant and a mother who was Catholic in a country where the line between the two was, quite literally, a battle line. Where the line between church and state was… well, a little blurry, and hard to see.
I remember how my mother would bring us to chapel on Sundays… and my father used to wait outside. One of the things that I picked up from my father and my mother was the sense that religion often gets in the way of God.
For me, at least, it got in the way. Seeing what religious people, in the name of God, did to my native land… and in this country, seeing God’s second-hand car salesmen on the cable TV channels, offering indulgences for cash… in fact, all over the world, seeing the self-righteousness roll down like a mighty stream from certain corners of the religious establishment…
I must confess, I changed the channel. I wanted my MTV.
Even though I was a believer.
Perhaps because I was a believer.
I was cynical… not about God, but about God’s politics. (There you are, Jim.)
Then, in 1997, a couple of eccentric, septuagenarian British Christians went and ruined my shtick—my reproachfulness. They did it by describing the Millennium, the year 2000, as a Jubilee year, as an opportunity to cancel the chronic debts of the world’s poorest people. They had the audacity to renew the Lord’s call—and were joined by Pope John Paul II, who, from an Irish half-Catholic’s point of view, may have had a more direct line to the Almighty.
‘Jubilee’—why ‘Jubilee’?
What was this year of Jubilee, this year of our Lords favor?
I’d always read the Scriptures, even the obscure stuff. There it was in Leviticus (25:35)…
‘If your brother becomes poor,’ the Scriptures say, ‘and cannot maintain himself… you shall maintain him… You shall not lend him your money at interest, not give him your food for profit.’
It is such an important idea, Jubilee, that Jesus begins his ministry with this. Jesus is a young man, he’s met with the rabbis, impressed everyone, people are talking. The elders say, he’s a clever guy, this Jesus, but he hasn’t done much… yet. He hasn’t spoken in public before…
When he does, is first words are from Isaiah: ‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,’ he says, ‘because He has anointed me to preach good news to the poor.’ And Jesus proclaims the year of the Lord’s favour, the year of Jubilee. (Luke 4:18)
What he was really talking about was an era of grace—and we’re still in it.
So fast-forward 2,000 years. That same thought, grace, was made incarnate—in a movement of all kinds of people. It wasn’t a bless-me club… it wasn’t a holy huddle. These religious guys were willing to get out in the streets, get their boots dirty, wave the placards, follow their convictions with actions… making it really hard for people like me to keep their distance. It was amazing. I almost started to like these church people.
But then my cynicism got another helping hand.
It was what Colin Powell, a five-star general, called the greatest W.M.D. of them all: a tiny little virus called A.I.D.S. And the religious community, in large part, missed it. The one’s that didn’t miss it could only see it as divine retribution for bad behaviour. Even on children… Even fastest growing group of HIV infections were married, faithful women.
Aha, there they go again! I thought to myself Judgmentalism is back!
But in truth, I was wrong again. The church was slow but the church got busy on this the leprosy of our age.
Love was on the move.
Mercy was on the move.
God was on the move.
Moving people of all kinds to work with others they had never met, never would have cared to meet… Conservative church groups hanging out with spokesmen for the gay community, all singing off the same hymn sheet on AIDS… Soccer moms and quarterbacks… hip-hop stars and country stars… This is what happens when God gets on the move: crazy stuff happens!
Popes were seen wearing sunglasses!
Jesse Helms was seen with a ghetto blaster!
Crazy stuff. Evidence of the spirit.
It was breathtaking. Literally. It stopped the world in its tracks.
When churches started demonstrating on debt, governments listened—and acted. When churches starting organising, petitioning, and even—that most unholy of acts today, God forbid, lobbying… on AIDS and global health, governments listened—and acted.
I’m here today in all humility to say: you changed minds; you changed policy; you changed the world.
Look, whatever thoughts you have about God, who He is or if He exists, most will agree that if there is a God, He has a special place for the poor. In fact, the poor are where God lives.
Check Judaism. Check Islam. Check pretty much anyone.
I mean, God may well be with us in our mansions on the hill… I hope so. He may well be with us as in all manner of controversial stuff… maybe, maybe not… But the one thing we can all agree, all faiths and ideologies, is that God is with the vulnerable and poor.
God is in the slums, in the cardboard boxes where the poor play house… God is in the silence of a mother who has infected her child with a virus that will end both their lives… God is in the cries heard under the rubble of war… God is in the debris of wasted opportunity and lives, and God is with us if we are with them. “If you remove the yolk from your midst, the pointing of the finger and speaking wickedness, and if you give yourself to the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted, then your light will rise in darkness and your gloom with become like midday and the Lord will continually guide you and satisfy your desire in scorched places”
It’s not a coincidence that in the Scriptures, poverty is mentioned more than 2,100 times. It’s not an accident. That’s a lot of air time, 2,100 mentions. [You know, the only time Christ is judgmental is on the subject of the poor.] ‘As you have done it unto the least of these my brethren, you have done it unto me.’ (Matthew 25:40). As I say, good news to the poor.
Here’s some good news for the President. After 9-11 we were told America would have no time for the World’s poor. America would be taken up with its own problems of safety. And it’s true these are dangerous times, but America has not drawn the blinds and double-locked the doors.
In fact, you have double aid to Africa. You have tripled funding for global health. Mr. President, your emergency plan for AIDS relief and support for the Global Fund—you and Congress—have put 700,000 people onto life-saving anti-retroviral drugs and provided 8 million bed nets to protect children from malaria.
Outstanding human achievements. Counterintuitive. Historic. Be very, very proud.
But here’s the bad news. From charity to justice, the good news is yet to come. There’s is much more to do. There’s a gigantic chasm between the scale of the emergency and the scale of the response.
And finally, it’s not about charity after all, is it? It’s about justice.
Let me repeat that: It’s not about charity, it’s about justice.
And that’s too bad.
Because you’re good at charity. Americans, like the Irish, are good at it. We like to give, and we give a lot, even those who can’t afford it.
But justice is a higher standard. Africa makes a fool of our idea of justice; it makes a farce of our idea of equality. It mocks our pieties, it doubts our concern, it questions our commitment.
6,500 Africans are still dying every day of a preventable, treatable disease, for lack of drugs we can buy at any drug store.
This is not about charity, this is about Justice and Equality.
Because there's no way we can look at what’s happening in Africa and, if we're honest, conclude that deep down, we really accept that Africans are equal to us. Anywhere else in the world, we wouldn’t accept it. Look at what happened in South East Asia with the Tsunami. 150, 000 lives lost to that misnomer of all misnomers, “mother nature”. In Africa, 150,000 lives are lost every month. A tsunami every month. And it’s a completely avoidable catastrophe.
It’s annoying but justice and equality are mates. Aren’t they? Justice always wants to hang out with equality. And equality is a real pain.
You know, think of those Jewish sheep-herders going to meet the Pharaoh, mud on their shoes, and the Pharaoh says, “Equal?” A preposterous idea: rich and poor are equal? And they say, “Yeah, ‘equal,’ that’s what it says here in this book. We’re all made in the image of God.” And eventually the Pharaoh says, “OK, I can accept that. I can accept the Jews—but not the blacks.”“Not the women. Not the gays. Not the Irish. No way, man.”
So on we go with our journey of equality.
On we go in the pursuit of justice.
We hear that call in the ONE Campaign, a growing movement of more than two million Americans… left and right together… united in the belief that where you live should no longer determine whether you live.
We hear that call even more powerfully today, as we mourn the loss of Coretta Scott King—mother of a movement for equality, one that changed the world but is only just getting started. These issues are as alive as they ever were; they just change shape and cross the seas.
Preventing the poorest of the poor from selling their products while we sing the virtues of the free market… that’s a justice issue. Holding children to ransom for the debts of their grandparents… That’s a justice issue. Withholding life-saving medicines out of deference to the Office of Patents… that’s a justice issue.
And while the law is what we say it is, God is not silent on the subject.
That’s why I say there’s the law of the land… and then there is a higher standard. There’s the law of the land, and we can hire experts to write them so they benefit us, so the laws say it’s OK to protect our agriculture but it’s not OK for African farmers to do the same, to earn a living?
As the laws of man are written, that’s what they say.
God will not accept that.
Mine won’t, at least. Will yours?
[pause]
I close this morning on … very… thin… ice.
This is a dangerous idea I’ve put on the table: my God vs. your God, their God vs. our God… vs. no God. It is very easy, in these times, to see religion as a force for division rather than unity.
And this is a town—Washington—that knows something of division.
But the reason I am here, and the reason I keep coming back to Washington, is because this is a town that is proving it can come together on behalf of what the Scriptures call the least of these.
This is not a Republican idea. It is not a Democratic idea. It is not even, with all due respect, an American idea. Nor it is unique to any one faith.
Do to others as you would have them do to you.’ (Luke 6:30) Jesus says that.
‘Righteousness is this: that one should… give away wealth out of love for Him to the near of kin and the orphans and the needy and the wayfarer and the beggars and for the emancipation of the captives.’ The Koran says that. (2.177)
Thus sayeth the Lord: ‘Bring the homeless poor into the house, when you see the naked, cover him, then your light will break out like the dawn and your recovery will speedily spring fourth, then your Lord will be your rear guard.’ The jewish scripture says that. Isaiah 58 again.
That is a powerful incentive: ‘The Lord will watch your back.’ Sounds like a good deal to me, right now.
A number of years ago, I met a wise man who changed my life. In countless ways, large and small, I was always seeking the Lord’s blessing. I was saying, you know, I have a new song, look after it… I have a family, please look after them… I have this crazy idea…
And this wise man said: stop.
He said, stop asking God to bless what you’re doing.
Get involved in what God is doing—because it’s already blessed.
Well, God, as I said, is with the poor. That, I believe, is what God is doing.
And that is what He’s calling us to do.
I was amazed when I first got to this country and I learned how much some churchgoers tithe. Up to ten percent of the family budget. Well, how does that compare the federal budget, the budget for the entire American family? How much of that goes to the poorest people in the world? Less than one percent.
Mr. President, Congress, people of faith, people of America:
I want to suggest to you today that you see the flow of effective foreign assistance as tithing…. Which, to be truly meaningful, will mean an additional one percent of the federal budget tithed to the poor.
What is one percent?
One percent is not merely a number on a balance sheet.
One percent is the girl in Africa who gets to go to school, thanks to you. One percent is the AIDS patient who gets her medicine, thanks to you. One percent is the African entrepreneur who can start a small family business thanks to you. One percent is not redecorating presidential palaces or money flowing down a rat hole. This one percent is digging waterholes to provide clean water.
One percent is a new partnership with Africa, not paternalism towards Africa, where increased assistance flows toward improved governance and initiatives with proven track records and away from boondoggles and white elephants of every description.
America gives less than one percent now. Were asking for an extra one percent to change the world. to transform millions of
lives—but not just that and I say this to the military men now – to transform the way that they see us.
One percent is national security, enlightened economic self interest, and a better safer world rolled into one. Sounds to me that in this town of deals and compromises, one percent is the best bargain around.
These goals—clean water for all; school for every child; medicine for the afflicted, an end to extreme and senseless poverty—these are not just any goals; they are the Millennium Development goals, which this country supports. And they are more than that. They are the Beatitudes for a Globalised World.
Now, I’m very lucky. I don’t have to sit on any budget committees. And I certainly don’t have to sit where you do, Mr. President. I don’t have to make the tough choices.
But I can tell you this:
To give one percent more is right. It’s smart. And it’s blessed.
There is a continent—Africa—being consumed by flames.
I truly believe that when the history books are written, our age will be remembered for three things: the war on terror, the digital revolution, and what we did—or did not to—to put the fire out in Africa.
History, like God, is watching what we do.
Thank you. Thank you, America, and God bless you all.
January 27, 2006
Papa Ratzi speaks
“I must give to others not only something that is my own, but my very self; I must be personally present in my gift.” - Benedict XVI
Beautiful words from the Pope in his “first” encyclical on “Christian Love.” REad the entire text at http://www/vatican.va/holy_father/benedict_xvi/encyclicals/documents/hf_ben-xvi_enc_20051225_deus-caritas-est_en.html
Beautiful words from the Pope in his “first” encyclical on “Christian Love.” REad the entire text at http://www/vatican.va/holy_father/benedict_xvi/encyclicals/documents/hf_ben-xvi_enc_20051225_deus-caritas-est_en.html
January 21, 2006
The Great Escape
Two of my clients escaped last week. Apparently, they were helped by their fellow officers. I won’t dwell on the legalities and technicalities but on the experience of having someone who has trusted you with their lives escape before their cases can be terminated.
I went to the taping of Debate last week and met a particularly repulsive Congressman (I would have wanted to say, “is there any other kind?” but my friends Erin Tanada and Risa Hontiveros-Baraquel are members of Congress and they’re not repulsive and among the nicest persons you will ever meet) who greeted me by asking, “aren’t you offended that your clients escaped, that means they don’t trust you? You should feel betrayed.”
Because he is particularly repulsive, I actually just smiled and said nothing; but on-air, Winnie Monsod also asked me practically the same question.
That got me thinking.
After having witnessed two of my clients killed before my very eyes, I’ve now experienced something new again—to have two clients escape.
Honestly, I don’t know what to think.
I went to the taping of Debate last week and met a particularly repulsive Congressman (I would have wanted to say, “is there any other kind?” but my friends Erin Tanada and Risa Hontiveros-Baraquel are members of Congress and they’re not repulsive and among the nicest persons you will ever meet) who greeted me by asking, “aren’t you offended that your clients escaped, that means they don’t trust you? You should feel betrayed.”
Because he is particularly repulsive, I actually just smiled and said nothing; but on-air, Winnie Monsod also asked me practically the same question.
That got me thinking.
After having witnessed two of my clients killed before my very eyes, I’ve now experienced something new again—to have two clients escape.
Honestly, I don’t know what to think.
January 11, 2006
And I knew envy . . .
Extinguish my eyes, I’ll go on seeing you.
Seal my eyes, I’ll go on hearing you.
And without feet, I can make my way to you,
Without a mouth I can swear your name.
Break off my arms, I’ll take hold of you
With my heart as with a hand.
Stop my heart, and my brain will start to beat.
And if you consume my brain with fire,
I’ll feel you burn in every drop of my blood.
II,7
- from Rilke’s Book of Hours
Love Poems to God
Man, that’s beautiful. Wish I could write poetry again but my brain’s been so addled by legal stuff that rhyme and meter and free verse appear alien to it now. I envy Marlon (I know, envy's wrong but I'm sinful) and the way he writes poetry--in filipino at that.
Still, in God’s time, perhaps some day, I’ll write poetry again from the psalms that I’m singing now in my heart.
Seal my eyes, I’ll go on hearing you.
And without feet, I can make my way to you,
Without a mouth I can swear your name.
Break off my arms, I’ll take hold of you
With my heart as with a hand.
Stop my heart, and my brain will start to beat.
And if you consume my brain with fire,
I’ll feel you burn in every drop of my blood.
II,7
- from Rilke’s Book of Hours
Love Poems to God
Man, that’s beautiful. Wish I could write poetry again but my brain’s been so addled by legal stuff that rhyme and meter and free verse appear alien to it now. I envy Marlon (I know, envy's wrong but I'm sinful) and the way he writes poetry--in filipino at that.
Still, in God’s time, perhaps some day, I’ll write poetry again from the psalms that I’m singing now in my heart.
January 04, 2006
Blind and toothless
“An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth will leave the world blind and toothless.”
- Tevye, Fiddler on the Roof
For once, I agree with Raul Gonzales—arming judges will not stop the killing of judges.
It is difficult to agree with the utterly illogical statement of Chief Justice Artemio Panganiban reminding judges that they can arm themselves. This, in the wake of the killing of Judge Henrick Gingoyon, a former FLAG lawyer from cebu who had to relocate to Manila after his and his family’s safety and security were threatened by the military for his uncompromising stand against human rights abuses.
Giving a judge a gun is not the answer to the violence that sweeps the country now. That it is the Chief Justice of the Philippines saying this bodes ill for all of us.
Neither is the reimposition of the death penalty the solution. The il-logic behind this is that had the State continued to execute people, Henrick Gingoyon would still be alive today. The il-logic behind this is that had the State continued to kill people after January 4, 2000, many of the victims of rape, kidnapping, drugs, murders would not have been victimized.
Really?
When Leo Echegaray was executed on February 5, 1999 and Bobby Andan on October 26, 1999, crime did not grind to a halt thereafter. After the last execution (so far) on January 4, 2000, crime was not wiped off the face of the Philippines (I write this on the 6th year since the de facto moratorium the Philippines has imposed on executions.
The death penalty is not a silver bullet for criminality. Neither is arming judges a wonder pill for violence against judges.
What we will be doing, if we join the rabble for more guns and for more death, is consign each of us—our generation and the generations to come—to the mindless, heartless, hopeless cycle of violence and insanity that we are in. We will be creating what Tevye prophesied—a country that is blind and toothless.
- Tevye, Fiddler on the Roof
For once, I agree with Raul Gonzales—arming judges will not stop the killing of judges.
It is difficult to agree with the utterly illogical statement of Chief Justice Artemio Panganiban reminding judges that they can arm themselves. This, in the wake of the killing of Judge Henrick Gingoyon, a former FLAG lawyer from cebu who had to relocate to Manila after his and his family’s safety and security were threatened by the military for his uncompromising stand against human rights abuses.
Giving a judge a gun is not the answer to the violence that sweeps the country now. That it is the Chief Justice of the Philippines saying this bodes ill for all of us.
Neither is the reimposition of the death penalty the solution. The il-logic behind this is that had the State continued to execute people, Henrick Gingoyon would still be alive today. The il-logic behind this is that had the State continued to kill people after January 4, 2000, many of the victims of rape, kidnapping, drugs, murders would not have been victimized.
Really?
When Leo Echegaray was executed on February 5, 1999 and Bobby Andan on October 26, 1999, crime did not grind to a halt thereafter. After the last execution (so far) on January 4, 2000, crime was not wiped off the face of the Philippines (I write this on the 6th year since the de facto moratorium the Philippines has imposed on executions.
The death penalty is not a silver bullet for criminality. Neither is arming judges a wonder pill for violence against judges.
What we will be doing, if we join the rabble for more guns and for more death, is consign each of us—our generation and the generations to come—to the mindless, heartless, hopeless cycle of violence and insanity that we are in. We will be creating what Tevye prophesied—a country that is blind and toothless.
January 01, 2006
To love more and to love more often
Playing on my mp3 player as I write this: Walk on”, U2’s anthem for Aung San Suu Kyi of Burma, a brave and courageous woman lady who bravely stands up against the repression in her country even at the cost of her liberty and possibly her life.
After being stopped from leading a march against repression and being placed again under house arrest, Suu Kyi finds herself in familiar surroundings—a bird in a gilded cage--Bono wails, begs, pleads with Suu Kyi to walk on against repression in her country, in great courage with great faith and with all hope that one day her country will be free and that she, and her fellow Burmese, may walk on without restraint, without borders, without danger—free.
A shining example to many, me most especially, Suu Kyi’s struggles to liberate her country men strikes a deep, deep chord in me.
It is not as if she could not walk on and out of Burma, free. The military junta that rules Burma now would want nothing better than that—so that they could be rid of her. She chose to stay. She chose to not be able to walk on, freely. She chose to be in her country, with her countrymen. She chose to suffer with them; to be bound with them; to share their burden; to struggle with them; to stand in solidarity with them.
Suu Kyi’s solidarity with her people reflects another man’s solidarity with His. Jesus, the Christ of God, chose to be born of and to man; He chose to stay with His human parents, Joseph and Mary; He chose to not be able to walk on, freely; He chose to be with His countrymen—living their lives, sharing their burdens as well as their joys; He chose to stand in solidarity with them—with Us.
Like Christ, Suu Kyi could have chosen freedom but she did not. Like Christ, Suu Kyi could have chosen to live her life for herself but she did not. Like Christ, Suu Kyi could have chosen to just walk on, but she did not.
I, who am free, often do walk on blithely, uncaring of many things around me. I, who am free, often do walk on as if my life were to be lived for myself only.
At the start of the year, 2006, I made no resolutions and I performed no rituals. I did make a decision, a conscious choice: to love more and to love more often. I choose not to just walk on if it means being uncaring; I choose not to just walk on if it means not being able to love more and love more often; I choose not to just walk on if it means not being to stand in solidarity with all those that Christ came to save.
Lord, I pray for the grace to be able to stand for You, stand for Your people, and, in so standing, to love more and love more often.
After being stopped from leading a march against repression and being placed again under house arrest, Suu Kyi finds herself in familiar surroundings—a bird in a gilded cage--Bono wails, begs, pleads with Suu Kyi to walk on against repression in her country, in great courage with great faith and with all hope that one day her country will be free and that she, and her fellow Burmese, may walk on without restraint, without borders, without danger—free.
A shining example to many, me most especially, Suu Kyi’s struggles to liberate her country men strikes a deep, deep chord in me.
It is not as if she could not walk on and out of Burma, free. The military junta that rules Burma now would want nothing better than that—so that they could be rid of her. She chose to stay. She chose to not be able to walk on, freely. She chose to be in her country, with her countrymen. She chose to suffer with them; to be bound with them; to share their burden; to struggle with them; to stand in solidarity with them.
Suu Kyi’s solidarity with her people reflects another man’s solidarity with His. Jesus, the Christ of God, chose to be born of and to man; He chose to stay with His human parents, Joseph and Mary; He chose to not be able to walk on, freely; He chose to be with His countrymen—living their lives, sharing their burdens as well as their joys; He chose to stand in solidarity with them—with Us.
Like Christ, Suu Kyi could have chosen freedom but she did not. Like Christ, Suu Kyi could have chosen to live her life for herself but she did not. Like Christ, Suu Kyi could have chosen to just walk on, but she did not.
I, who am free, often do walk on blithely, uncaring of many things around me. I, who am free, often do walk on as if my life were to be lived for myself only.
At the start of the year, 2006, I made no resolutions and I performed no rituals. I did make a decision, a conscious choice: to love more and to love more often. I choose not to just walk on if it means being uncaring; I choose not to just walk on if it means not being able to love more and love more often; I choose not to just walk on if it means not being to stand in solidarity with all those that Christ came to save.
Lord, I pray for the grace to be able to stand for You, stand for Your people, and, in so standing, to love more and love more often.
December 31, 2005
Gratitude for a love far, far greater than any
“Behold, I make all things new.” (Revelation 21:5, RSV)
Such great love by the King, whose birth we celebrated at Christmas, and such great joy by us, who have been called His children.
At the end of a blessed year, 2005, I raise my hands and my heart to the source of all blessing, the fount of all joy, the wellspring of all hope: my Lord, my King, my God.
Father, I thank You for the way You have blessed me this year; for the way You have touched my life with each new day; for the way Your blessings have overflowed and your grace has been in abundance; for the way You continue to love me, despite my unloveableness and my unloving nature.
Lord, I thank You for the many ways You have made all things new to me this year, for the many times You have surprised me; for the many joys that sustained me and the many challenges that made me strong; for the many times I have asked You to reign in my life and for the many times You actually did; for the many times You allowed my passions to meet my dreams; and for the many times that You taught me the virtue of waiting on and for You.
Father, I lift up each day of my new year to You—the source of my joy, the essence of my life, the reason for my passion, the one who loved me first (Isaiah 43:4) and my first love. (Rev 2:4). I pray for the grace to rise each new day, to pray, “I will love today” and to live out that prayer each day.
Lord, thank You for loving me with a love far, far greater than any other. I pray that I might, in pale imitation of You, love with a love far, far greater than I can hope to be loved.
That in all that I do and say, Your Name may be glorified—I pray in Christ’s Holy Name.
Such great love by the King, whose birth we celebrated at Christmas, and such great joy by us, who have been called His children.
At the end of a blessed year, 2005, I raise my hands and my heart to the source of all blessing, the fount of all joy, the wellspring of all hope: my Lord, my King, my God.
Father, I thank You for the way You have blessed me this year; for the way You have touched my life with each new day; for the way Your blessings have overflowed and your grace has been in abundance; for the way You continue to love me, despite my unloveableness and my unloving nature.
Lord, I thank You for the many ways You have made all things new to me this year, for the many times You have surprised me; for the many joys that sustained me and the many challenges that made me strong; for the many times I have asked You to reign in my life and for the many times You actually did; for the many times You allowed my passions to meet my dreams; and for the many times that You taught me the virtue of waiting on and for You.
Father, I lift up each day of my new year to You—the source of my joy, the essence of my life, the reason for my passion, the one who loved me first (Isaiah 43:4) and my first love. (Rev 2:4). I pray for the grace to rise each new day, to pray, “I will love today” and to live out that prayer each day.
Lord, thank You for loving me with a love far, far greater than any other. I pray that I might, in pale imitation of You, love with a love far, far greater than I can hope to be loved.
That in all that I do and say, Your Name may be glorified—I pray in Christ’s Holy Name.
A hunch played out excellently
A fresh take on formula by an intelligent director with an enthusiastic supporting cast and an excellent portrayal by a comebacking actor.
That is how I would describe Joey Reyes’s Kutob (literally, “hunch”).
Casting my biases against Rica Peralejo (watch the execrable Tatarin from another year’s filmfest and you will understand why) aside, I went to watch Kutob on the last day of the year and I came out quite satisfied and pleased. Sure, the plot is quite familiar, formulaic even. It’s lifted almost purely from Hitchcock’s Psycho with a smattering of the teen slasher flicks like I know what you did last summer, Halloween and Urban Legend but the direction is so crisp and the characterization so good that you forget about the dubious pedigree of the plot soon enough.
Marvin Agustin, as Lemuel, displays great acting chops as well as a revamped body as Rica Peralejo’s stalker. His characterization is very deep and his essaying of the role of the stalker is so rich; even as early on, you know its going to be him, you still continue to watch—transfixed not only by how he registers on screen (quite good) but also by how he carries the role (excellently). Largely because of him. the formula becomes fresh and Joey Reyes is to be credited with this.
Liza Lorena as the aunt is so good! The role could have become hammy but she does so well without any irritating acting tics that you forget any comparisons with Psycho.
The supporting cast is first-rate. Alessandra De Rossi is always excellent and she does not disappoint here; she is the 2k Suzanne Gonzales and Cherry Pie Picache, i.e., actors who portray the proverbial “best friend”, and is the perfect foil for Peralejo. Even the normally bland James Blanco is good. Ryan Agoncillo, who is “introduced” in this film, appears not to do much acting simply because the image of the character he plays is so similar to his television image but he acquits himself quite well. Others in the cast are the ever-reliable Anna Capri and the two very striking “victims”, Andrea Del Rosario and Pamela Nieva—both of whom not only project well on screen (particularly Nieva; where’d she come from?) but also display very understated acting.
Significantly, it is Peralejo who doesn’t do much. She enjoys top billing and the film does revolve around her but somehow you get the impression that her role could have been played by just anyone and you would get the same performance.
Reyes’s direction is tight and the pacing quite good. My only technical complaint is that Jaime Fabregas’s otherwise excellent score tends to get too obvious, particularly in the “scary” parts. It might have been better to have absolute silence before the gory parts, the better to elicit screams.
But these are small flies in the otherwise excellent ointment that is Kutob.
Don’t waste time on fantasy this MMFF, the reality portrayed so excellently in Kutob is time and money better spent.
That is how I would describe Joey Reyes’s Kutob (literally, “hunch”).
Casting my biases against Rica Peralejo (watch the execrable Tatarin from another year’s filmfest and you will understand why) aside, I went to watch Kutob on the last day of the year and I came out quite satisfied and pleased. Sure, the plot is quite familiar, formulaic even. It’s lifted almost purely from Hitchcock’s Psycho with a smattering of the teen slasher flicks like I know what you did last summer, Halloween and Urban Legend but the direction is so crisp and the characterization so good that you forget about the dubious pedigree of the plot soon enough.
Marvin Agustin, as Lemuel, displays great acting chops as well as a revamped body as Rica Peralejo’s stalker. His characterization is very deep and his essaying of the role of the stalker is so rich; even as early on, you know its going to be him, you still continue to watch—transfixed not only by how he registers on screen (quite good) but also by how he carries the role (excellently). Largely because of him. the formula becomes fresh and Joey Reyes is to be credited with this.
Liza Lorena as the aunt is so good! The role could have become hammy but she does so well without any irritating acting tics that you forget any comparisons with Psycho.
The supporting cast is first-rate. Alessandra De Rossi is always excellent and she does not disappoint here; she is the 2k Suzanne Gonzales and Cherry Pie Picache, i.e., actors who portray the proverbial “best friend”, and is the perfect foil for Peralejo. Even the normally bland James Blanco is good. Ryan Agoncillo, who is “introduced” in this film, appears not to do much acting simply because the image of the character he plays is so similar to his television image but he acquits himself quite well. Others in the cast are the ever-reliable Anna Capri and the two very striking “victims”, Andrea Del Rosario and Pamela Nieva—both of whom not only project well on screen (particularly Nieva; where’d she come from?) but also display very understated acting.
Significantly, it is Peralejo who doesn’t do much. She enjoys top billing and the film does revolve around her but somehow you get the impression that her role could have been played by just anyone and you would get the same performance.
Reyes’s direction is tight and the pacing quite good. My only technical complaint is that Jaime Fabregas’s otherwise excellent score tends to get too obvious, particularly in the “scary” parts. It might have been better to have absolute silence before the gory parts, the better to elicit screams.
But these are small flies in the otherwise excellent ointment that is Kutob.
Don’t waste time on fantasy this MMFF, the reality portrayed so excellently in Kutob is time and money better spent.
Clipped wings
I’m sorry. . . but Mulawin The Movie just doesn’t do it for me.
I had a choice of Kutob, Enteng Kabisote 2 or Mulawin and I chose the only “Rated A” film—which shows just how much I know about movies (because in my book, it’s worth at least a D).
My expectations weren’t that high—after all, the lead male actor is from the same genepool as Ruffa Gutierrez and the lead female actor’s most famous line (“Darna”) had to be dubbed (by Regine Velasquez) as she just couldn’t cut it—but I expected, at least, entertainment. Well, maybe, . . . That’s Entertainment from the 80’s. . . as in the German Moreno type of entertainment.
Just to get it out of the way, the script and story are both unoriginal—a bad mix and match of every sword and sorcery epic as well as obvious rip-offs from Tolkien—and the acting. . . well, let’s just say that the Gutierrez genepool is gorgeous but that’s it.
Richard Gutierrez is good-looking but he just does not have the gravitas to be the sugo or the Aragorn-type (and for that matter, neither does Ding Dong Dantes, who is atrociously miscast here); he does not have the poise, he does not have the air, he does not have the voice, he does not have the built, he does not have. . .it. Perhaps if they had given the role to someone like Jong Hilario (whatever happened to him?) except he’s not white, meztizo and doesn’t have straight hair.
Angel Locsin is gorgeous but she is absolutely wooden; the fatigue from doing several series one after the other is showing. She goes through her lines, stiff and . . . wooden; it is as if she was doing a really bad Amy Austria impersonation (Amy Austria is one of those actors who can say her lines with a minimum of expression and still manage to get the point across—as my late classmate and seatmate for 4 years in law school Gail would say, binabato ang mga linya).. Interestingly, Amy Austria is cast as Angel Locsin’s mother.
The Encantadia ladies are also there but only Iza Calzado and Sunshine Dizon are given much to do. Iza Calzado is one of the most beautiful faces around but she still has to put her finger on acting; her turn as the Galadriel-figure in this film is flat, again she does not have the gravitas for it. Sunshine Dizon is a pleasant revelation; she realizes that her role is hammy and she overacts like anything—in this way, she’s the only great performer in this movie because she doesn’t take it seriously (of course, I’m presuming here that she did this on purpose and that her school of method acting isn’t really from the Christmas ham school). And by the way, what happened to Diana Zubiri?
The editing is bad and very choppy; midway through the film, I got a headache from the editing.
And don’t get me started on the use of the South Border song. It’s a good song but it doesn’t fit the scenes where it is played. It’s jarring, obtrusive and doesn’t add to the atmosphere of the film. We really haven’t gotten it yet, do we? You can have a great song for a theme and not have it played throughout the film—take The Lord of the Rings for example; Annie Lennox won an Oscar for her song but you hardly recognized it or heard it because it was played so unobtrusively.
Even the effects and the sets aren’t “Rated A” stuff. The sets are cramped and the use of the camera shots emphasize this—consider the wedding scene between Gutierrez and Locsin. No grandeur, no pomp, no long shots of fantastic locales. . . it’s like an extended skit from the 80’s That’s Entertainment.
I will stop here because I’m getting a headache writing about this movie. The long and short of it, Mulawin never takes off, let alone soar.
I had a choice of Kutob, Enteng Kabisote 2 or Mulawin and I chose the only “Rated A” film—which shows just how much I know about movies (because in my book, it’s worth at least a D).
My expectations weren’t that high—after all, the lead male actor is from the same genepool as Ruffa Gutierrez and the lead female actor’s most famous line (“Darna”) had to be dubbed (by Regine Velasquez) as she just couldn’t cut it—but I expected, at least, entertainment. Well, maybe, . . . That’s Entertainment from the 80’s. . . as in the German Moreno type of entertainment.
Just to get it out of the way, the script and story are both unoriginal—a bad mix and match of every sword and sorcery epic as well as obvious rip-offs from Tolkien—and the acting. . . well, let’s just say that the Gutierrez genepool is gorgeous but that’s it.
Richard Gutierrez is good-looking but he just does not have the gravitas to be the sugo or the Aragorn-type (and for that matter, neither does Ding Dong Dantes, who is atrociously miscast here); he does not have the poise, he does not have the air, he does not have the voice, he does not have the built, he does not have. . .it. Perhaps if they had given the role to someone like Jong Hilario (whatever happened to him?) except he’s not white, meztizo and doesn’t have straight hair.
Angel Locsin is gorgeous but she is absolutely wooden; the fatigue from doing several series one after the other is showing. She goes through her lines, stiff and . . . wooden; it is as if she was doing a really bad Amy Austria impersonation (Amy Austria is one of those actors who can say her lines with a minimum of expression and still manage to get the point across—as my late classmate and seatmate for 4 years in law school Gail would say, binabato ang mga linya).. Interestingly, Amy Austria is cast as Angel Locsin’s mother.
The Encantadia ladies are also there but only Iza Calzado and Sunshine Dizon are given much to do. Iza Calzado is one of the most beautiful faces around but she still has to put her finger on acting; her turn as the Galadriel-figure in this film is flat, again she does not have the gravitas for it. Sunshine Dizon is a pleasant revelation; she realizes that her role is hammy and she overacts like anything—in this way, she’s the only great performer in this movie because she doesn’t take it seriously (of course, I’m presuming here that she did this on purpose and that her school of method acting isn’t really from the Christmas ham school). And by the way, what happened to Diana Zubiri?
The editing is bad and very choppy; midway through the film, I got a headache from the editing.
And don’t get me started on the use of the South Border song. It’s a good song but it doesn’t fit the scenes where it is played. It’s jarring, obtrusive and doesn’t add to the atmosphere of the film. We really haven’t gotten it yet, do we? You can have a great song for a theme and not have it played throughout the film—take The Lord of the Rings for example; Annie Lennox won an Oscar for her song but you hardly recognized it or heard it because it was played so unobtrusively.
Even the effects and the sets aren’t “Rated A” stuff. The sets are cramped and the use of the camera shots emphasize this—consider the wedding scene between Gutierrez and Locsin. No grandeur, no pomp, no long shots of fantastic locales. . . it’s like an extended skit from the 80’s That’s Entertainment.
I will stop here because I’m getting a headache writing about this movie. The long and short of it, Mulawin never takes off, let alone soar.
December 28, 2005
Reflections on a Sheaffer
Thanks to Butch Dalisay, I finally found my broad nib fountain pen. He very kindly responded to my email asking him for fountain pen information by informing me of a store in Escolta called Luis Store. Fountain pens are a passion I share with him, though I don’t have the number and the rare pens he does, I do love writing with a fountain pen (a passion he shares as well).
Now, Escolta is a place I had not been to in a very long time; I remember when I was a kid vacationing in Manila, my father, who was then assigned to a bank in Binondo, would take us around Escolta and Binondo--primarily for the food in the many hole-in-the wall stalls. I also remember, as a law student, frequenting a building in Escolta because that was where a paralegal training center was. All these, almost a lifetime ago.
Butch’s tip gave me the opportunity to renew my acquaintance with Escolta and also to indulge my passion for fountain pens.
I managed to find Luis Store and it was a wonderful experience looking at the various pens on display.
Those who know me know I'm not much of a shopper--I don't have the patience for it. I call myself a strategic shopper--plan ahead, go in and get what I need and get out. That was what I had intended to do at Luis Store--just look and, if fortunate, buy a broad nib pen and leave. At Luis Store, I surprised myself. Very much like a kid before a display of toys, I found myself pointing at various pens and asking, can I see that?, and enjoying myself tremendously.
The Chinese family that owns the store was wonderful; not only did they know their pens, they had so many wonderful stories of people who had walked through the portals of their store to buy fountain pens or have their pens repaired. It was a virtual tag team, the 70 plus mother and her two daughters plied me with hot tea and stories, in between my asking to try on various pens. They knew many people and they knew when to name drop, e.g., “you know, Congressman (Teddyboy) Locsin was just here yesterday; he wanted one of the medium Montblancs and ended up buying the top of the line one (my note: one pen cost PHP38Th).” Instead of spending a few minutes, I ended up spending close to two hours with tea, conversation and pens.
I finally settled on a Sheaffer Targa broad nib with a sterling silver body which was a steal for the price they gave me and which was also within my budget. One of the daughters was quite unsubtly nudging me towards the Montblanc Congressman Locsin had bought which was, however, too far off--way, way off--my budget.
As I took my leave of them, with my new pen in my shirt pocket, the mother asked if I would stay for lunch. Surprised, as I had known them for only two hours, I demurred because I had a meeting in Quezon City at 1:00 and it was already 12:30; not wishing to take “no” for an answer, she took out one of those Styrofoam containers and ladled a heaping serving of pancit bihon into it, pressed the container into my hands and told me to eat it in the car on my way to Quezon City.
I know that I will be going back to Escolta more often, not only for the the pancit bihon, which was very, very good, thank you very much, but also for the many other pens they have. The Sheaffer writes exquisitely too, by the way, thank you very much as well.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The reason I love writing with ink using a fountain pen is that it leaves a distinct impression. Unlike a ballpoint pen, writing with a fountain pen penetrates the several layers in paper and, quite literally, leaves its mark; writing with a ballpoint pen only scratches the surface, as it were. There is also nothing like the smooth glide of the nib and the rush of ink onto the paper—the feeling has to be experienced. It’s like having your passions meet your dreams—magic!
Of course, it’s almost impossible to cleanly correct anything that has been written with a fountain pen. The impression it leaves is indelible. The caveat I always give myself when using a pen is that I have to think long, hard and many times over before I use it because the imprint is indelible and permanent.
Living one’s life is very much like knowing how to use a fountain pen in writing. Very frequently, we live our lives without making an impression—merely existing and surviving, instead of creating an indelible imprint of our living. Many times, we do not think long, hard and many times over and the impact we make on others is indelible and permanent—tragically and unfortunately, many times over, this impact is negative or adverse.
We are called to live, not merely survive or exist. Standing up for one’s principles, beliefs or faith is living. Proclaiming proudly one’s principles, beliefs or faith is living. Encouraging others to stand up for and proclaim proudly one’s principles, beliefs or faith is living.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
All these, from one trip to Escolta and two hours in a fountain pen shop. Thanks again, Butch.
Now, Escolta is a place I had not been to in a very long time; I remember when I was a kid vacationing in Manila, my father, who was then assigned to a bank in Binondo, would take us around Escolta and Binondo--primarily for the food in the many hole-in-the wall stalls. I also remember, as a law student, frequenting a building in Escolta because that was where a paralegal training center was. All these, almost a lifetime ago.
Butch’s tip gave me the opportunity to renew my acquaintance with Escolta and also to indulge my passion for fountain pens.
I managed to find Luis Store and it was a wonderful experience looking at the various pens on display.
Those who know me know I'm not much of a shopper--I don't have the patience for it. I call myself a strategic shopper--plan ahead, go in and get what I need and get out. That was what I had intended to do at Luis Store--just look and, if fortunate, buy a broad nib pen and leave. At Luis Store, I surprised myself. Very much like a kid before a display of toys, I found myself pointing at various pens and asking, can I see that?, and enjoying myself tremendously.
The Chinese family that owns the store was wonderful; not only did they know their pens, they had so many wonderful stories of people who had walked through the portals of their store to buy fountain pens or have their pens repaired. It was a virtual tag team, the 70 plus mother and her two daughters plied me with hot tea and stories, in between my asking to try on various pens. They knew many people and they knew when to name drop, e.g., “you know, Congressman (Teddyboy) Locsin was just here yesterday; he wanted one of the medium Montblancs and ended up buying the top of the line one (my note: one pen cost PHP38Th).” Instead of spending a few minutes, I ended up spending close to two hours with tea, conversation and pens.
I finally settled on a Sheaffer Targa broad nib with a sterling silver body which was a steal for the price they gave me and which was also within my budget. One of the daughters was quite unsubtly nudging me towards the Montblanc Congressman Locsin had bought which was, however, too far off--way, way off--my budget.
As I took my leave of them, with my new pen in my shirt pocket, the mother asked if I would stay for lunch. Surprised, as I had known them for only two hours, I demurred because I had a meeting in Quezon City at 1:00 and it was already 12:30; not wishing to take “no” for an answer, she took out one of those Styrofoam containers and ladled a heaping serving of pancit bihon into it, pressed the container into my hands and told me to eat it in the car on my way to Quezon City.
I know that I will be going back to Escolta more often, not only for the the pancit bihon, which was very, very good, thank you very much, but also for the many other pens they have. The Sheaffer writes exquisitely too, by the way, thank you very much as well.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The reason I love writing with ink using a fountain pen is that it leaves a distinct impression. Unlike a ballpoint pen, writing with a fountain pen penetrates the several layers in paper and, quite literally, leaves its mark; writing with a ballpoint pen only scratches the surface, as it were. There is also nothing like the smooth glide of the nib and the rush of ink onto the paper—the feeling has to be experienced. It’s like having your passions meet your dreams—magic!
Of course, it’s almost impossible to cleanly correct anything that has been written with a fountain pen. The impression it leaves is indelible. The caveat I always give myself when using a pen is that I have to think long, hard and many times over before I use it because the imprint is indelible and permanent.
Living one’s life is very much like knowing how to use a fountain pen in writing. Very frequently, we live our lives without making an impression—merely existing and surviving, instead of creating an indelible imprint of our living. Many times, we do not think long, hard and many times over and the impact we make on others is indelible and permanent—tragically and unfortunately, many times over, this impact is negative or adverse.
We are called to live, not merely survive or exist. Standing up for one’s principles, beliefs or faith is living. Proclaiming proudly one’s principles, beliefs or faith is living. Encouraging others to stand up for and proclaim proudly one’s principles, beliefs or faith is living.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
All these, from one trip to Escolta and two hours in a fountain pen shop. Thanks again, Butch.
December 27, 2005
It's Christmas time
A song that moved me a lot during the 80’s was a song that was played only during Christmas but ought to have been played all year long.
Do they know it’s Christmas?
(Bob Geldoff)
1. It’s Christmas time,
There’s no need to be afraid.
At Christmas time,
We let in light and we banish shade.
And in our world of plenty
We can spread a smile of joy
Throw your arms around the world
At Christmas time
2. But say a prayer,
Pray for the “other ones”
At Christmas time, it’s hard
but when you’re having fun
There’s a world outside your window
And it’s a world of dread and fear
Where the only water flowing
Is the bitter sting of tears
And the Christmas bells that ring there
Are the clanging chimes of doom
Tonight, thank God it’s them
Instead of you.
3. And there won’t be snow in Africa
This Christmas time
The greatest gift they’ll get this year is life
Where nothing ever grows
No rain or rivers flow
Do they know it’s Christmas time at all?
Here’s to you: raise a glass to everyone
Here’s to them: underneath that burning sun
Do they know it’s Christmas time at all?
Feed the world!
Let them know it’s Christmas time!
This was done in November of 1984 by a super collection of superstars from the eurorock industry: Sting, Bono, U2, Bob Geldoff, Paul McCartney, David Bowie, Phil Collins, Midge Ure and Ultravox, Duran Duran, Boy George and Culture Club, Spandau Ballet, Style Council, Eurythmics, George Michael and Andrew Ridgley, Bananarama and others. They called themselves Band Aid and they set out to make a difference and bring about change. It debuted at number 1 in the charts and raised a ton of money for aid to Africa. It also spawned copycats like the mediocre "USA for Africa" with the quasi-imperialistic sounding We are the World.
This Christmas, I heard this song again; and, as in the 80s and every year it has been played, it moved me, again--to think, to reflect, to question, to pray, to take action.
There’s only one mention of God in the entire song—“tonight, thank God it’s them instead of you—but reflecting on the song's message--eloquently written by a rock star--God’s hand and Spirit permeate the song. It speaks eloquently of love, it speaks courageously of giving, it speaks sincerely of making a stand and wanting to make a difference. All of these speak of God; all of these speak of God’s truth: that God, who loved us first, wants us to be able to love others back.
Almost twenty years after that song was written and first played, that line still haunts, do they know it’s Christmas time at all?
We still find ourselves in a land of indifference, apathy, hate and intolerance. We still find ourselves in a world that prizes getting ahead at all costs rather than loving with all your heart, your mind, your soul, your strength.
We may not be able to feed the hungry in Africa; we may not be able to write songs as eloquent or poetic as this. But we can certainly do something: give of ourselves in the best way we know how; share of ourselves generously; speak from our hearts of the love that God has shown us; proclaim from our experience the many blessings that God has showered us with; and bring many others to the one inescapable truth: Christmas is about love, the love of God for His people; a love so concrete and so personally and intimately manifested in Jesus’s choice to be born to and of man and to die as and for man—for each and every one of us.
Do they know it’s Christmas?
Do you know it’s Christmas?
"And in our world of plenty, we can share a smile of joy;
Throw your arms around the world at Christmas time."
Happy Christmas! Share. Give. Act. Love.
December 26, 2005
Going ape. . . not
I loved Naomi Watts in King Kong but, unfortunately, that was all that I loved about the movie.
I was old enough to watch the remake in the 70’s—that one featured Jeff Bridges and Jessica Lange and had a totally irrelevant scene where the big age nudged off Jessica Lange’s top—and that one sucked big time. This new remake did not suck big time but it was no great shakes either. And like the first remake, there were a lot of irrelevant scenes as well (all the dinosaur scenes, for instance).
Obviously, Peter Jackson put in a lot of work on this movie, particularly the special effects but that was about it. I did not see why it took 3 hours to tell this story; it could have been told in much, much less. This reminds me of Titanic; and I say this with a heavy heart because, after all, Peter Jackson brought us the glorious The Lord of the Rings and, until King Kong, it would have been almost sacrilegious to mention Peter Jackson in the same sentence as Titanic. But halfway through the film, that was what I felt and, when Kong finally got to New York and on top of the Empire State Building, it was all I could do to keep from yawning.
All the passion that Jackson obviously had for Kong is evident but this film shows passion will bring you only so far; the material is thin and the premise hokey. Also, while a good film is an invitation to suspend disbelief, the invitation must also be reasonable and logical. Kong’s invitation to suspend disbelief is not reasonable nor logical. There is no attempt to explain how Jack Black’s character is able to obtain the map, how dinosaurs managed to survive—and only on that island, how all the insects and animals there are large and how a shipload of male sailors could survive the trip without killing each other over a particularly luminous Naomi Watts (as the only female on board a veeery long trip). There is so much that Peter Jackson does not bother to explain about Kong; all he does is invite us to suspend disbelief—and because of this, it borders on hubris.
The one bright—luminous—spot in the film is Naomi Watts. She is perfect for the role and makes it totally logical why Kong would go ape over her. Not only does she inhabit the role of a talented vaudeville player with nowhere to go because of the depression but she also essays the part of a starstruck ingénue—to Adrian Brody’s character and also to Kong--to perfection. Not only is she beautiful to look at, but she does so much with a very limited role.
Too bad that Peter Jackson had to follow-up The Return of the King with King Kong (even if this was really the movie he wanted to make and managed to make it only on the strength of the 11 Oscars of LOTR:ROTK). It remains to be seen if he manages to recapture the excitement he generated with the The Lord of the Rings trilogy with his next film after Kong. I hope he does, because he has shown that he is a director not only wit talent but with vision and that’s very rare these days.
I was old enough to watch the remake in the 70’s—that one featured Jeff Bridges and Jessica Lange and had a totally irrelevant scene where the big age nudged off Jessica Lange’s top—and that one sucked big time. This new remake did not suck big time but it was no great shakes either. And like the first remake, there were a lot of irrelevant scenes as well (all the dinosaur scenes, for instance).
Obviously, Peter Jackson put in a lot of work on this movie, particularly the special effects but that was about it. I did not see why it took 3 hours to tell this story; it could have been told in much, much less. This reminds me of Titanic; and I say this with a heavy heart because, after all, Peter Jackson brought us the glorious The Lord of the Rings and, until King Kong, it would have been almost sacrilegious to mention Peter Jackson in the same sentence as Titanic. But halfway through the film, that was what I felt and, when Kong finally got to New York and on top of the Empire State Building, it was all I could do to keep from yawning.
All the passion that Jackson obviously had for Kong is evident but this film shows passion will bring you only so far; the material is thin and the premise hokey. Also, while a good film is an invitation to suspend disbelief, the invitation must also be reasonable and logical. Kong’s invitation to suspend disbelief is not reasonable nor logical. There is no attempt to explain how Jack Black’s character is able to obtain the map, how dinosaurs managed to survive—and only on that island, how all the insects and animals there are large and how a shipload of male sailors could survive the trip without killing each other over a particularly luminous Naomi Watts (as the only female on board a veeery long trip). There is so much that Peter Jackson does not bother to explain about Kong; all he does is invite us to suspend disbelief—and because of this, it borders on hubris.
The one bright—luminous—spot in the film is Naomi Watts. She is perfect for the role and makes it totally logical why Kong would go ape over her. Not only does she inhabit the role of a talented vaudeville player with nowhere to go because of the depression but she also essays the part of a starstruck ingénue—to Adrian Brody’s character and also to Kong--to perfection. Not only is she beautiful to look at, but she does so much with a very limited role.
Too bad that Peter Jackson had to follow-up The Return of the King with King Kong (even if this was really the movie he wanted to make and managed to make it only on the strength of the 11 Oscars of LOTR:ROTK). It remains to be seen if he manages to recapture the excitement he generated with the The Lord of the Rings trilogy with his next film after Kong. I hope he does, because he has shown that he is a director not only wit talent but with vision and that’s very rare these days.
December 25, 2005
Why we rejoice and celebrate
We rejoice at Christmas because without the nativity, there would be no resurrection; and without the resurrection, there would be no sense to our faith.
Nativity and Resurrection—necessary bookends to a full Christian life.
We must, like Christ, be born anew every Christmas so that we may, like Christ, be resurrected every Easter.
REJOICE AND BE GLAD! For the King has come!
Merry Christmas to all!
Nativity and Resurrection—necessary bookends to a full Christian life.
We must, like Christ, be born anew every Christmas so that we may, like Christ, be resurrected every Easter.
REJOICE AND BE GLAD! For the King has come!
Merry Christmas to all!
December 22, 2005
A Class Act
STATEMENT OF JUSTICE PUNO
The President has exercised her exclusive constitutional power of appointment. Let us all respect her judgment. The Almighty has a plan for all of us and I agree that the All-Seeing Eye does not play dice with our destinies. Indeed, even pain has a purpose.
I dispel all rumors that I will opt for early retirement. Those who desire to reduce me to posthumous significance will not experience any ecstasy.
I will continue to work as a humble member of the court and as always I pledge to be an independent minded jurist regardless of consequences, to fight for the civil liberties of the people against abuses coming from any and all sources, to do battle with vested interests especially those who believe they have a divine right to selfishness and to protect the institutional independence of the High Court against threats of tampering from within and without its portals.
I wish Chief Justice Artemio Panganiban all the best.
Justice Reynato S. Puno
December 22, 2005
The President has exercised her exclusive constitutional power of appointment. Let us all respect her judgment. The Almighty has a plan for all of us and I agree that the All-Seeing Eye does not play dice with our destinies. Indeed, even pain has a purpose.
I dispel all rumors that I will opt for early retirement. Those who desire to reduce me to posthumous significance will not experience any ecstasy.
I will continue to work as a humble member of the court and as always I pledge to be an independent minded jurist regardless of consequences, to fight for the civil liberties of the people against abuses coming from any and all sources, to do battle with vested interests especially those who believe they have a divine right to selfishness and to protect the institutional independence of the High Court against threats of tampering from within and without its portals.
I wish Chief Justice Artemio Panganiban all the best.
Justice Reynato S. Puno
December 22, 2005
Now, that's what you call a class act.
December 21, 2005
Brave Filipina, Faithful Servant of God
(Photo taken from PDI; Inq7.net) Sr. Mariani Dimaranan, SFIC, 81
Brave Filipina, Faithful Servant of God
Deeply offended
I blogged about this a few weeks back—the supposed three-way race for Chief Justice. Now, it has come to pass. The race really was a rout. The front-runner had no chance—none at all because Gloria Arroyo is starting to show her true colors: Marcosian.
I have also said this before, she is worse than Marcos and this shows it.
This might get me into a lot of trouble because: 1. I am a lawyer with cases pending before the Supreme Court and I am blogging about Gloria Arroyo’s choice for Chief Justice of the Philippines; 2. I am subject to the discipline of the Supreme Court; and 3. I have friends on Justice Panganiban’s chambers, who might feel bad about my blogging about their boss in this way.
Because lawyering is the only way I know how to put butter on my bread, I will say this: this is not about Justice Panganiban, this is about Gloria Arroyo and the damage she has inflicted on the court and the judicial system because of her senseless and totally trapo (shorthand for “traditional politician” but also very aptly vernacular for “dirty rag”, good only for throwing away) “revolving door” policy. But because lawyering is also the only way I know how to serve, I will say this: this is also about the Court and the way it’s independence will be determined in the future.
I write about this not because I do not like Justice Panganiban (I have no basis to “not like him” as I do not know him that well personally; I have some of his books as apparently I am on his mailing list) or because I do not like Gloria Arroyo but because I am a member of the Bar, an officer of the Court, and a Filipino. And I am offended, deeply offended, that Gloria Arroyo would insult everyone by foisting this appointment on us.
I stated before that I am not a rabid fan of Mr. Justice Puno but I do admire his judicial philosophy. We are, if I may be so bold to claim, kindred spirits in espousing greater protection for civil rights and human freedoms. Often, his pen--wielded mightily and consistently--and wit-- manifesting itself very often acerbically--have cut through layers of government-sponsored balderdash to expose and lay bare to the people what is most important to them: the truth. I often do not agree with his decisions but I have yet to find occasion to disrespect him. Of the three who were in the “race”, he was, in my opinion, the best qualified—coincidentally also, the most senior.
What offends me about Gloria Arroyo’s appointment of Justice Panganiban as Chief Justice of the Philippines is that she cheapens the Judiciary by making the highest post open to the simple expediency of accommodation. What offends me about Gloria Arroyo’s appointment of Justice Panganiban as Chief Justice of the Philippines is that she would choose not the best qualified and also the most senior but that she would choose based on a policy of appeasement. What offends me about this appointment is not that Justice Panganiban was chosen over Justice Puno but that Gloria Arroyo thinks that the rule of law should be made subject to a simplistic and “simpletonic” (my own word; don’t bother looking it up) policy of “giving everyone a chance.”
The direction of the Supreme Court and the Judicial Branch should be determined by a vision, not by political accommodation and expediency. It should be charted by someone who has a clear grasp of where the Court should go and how it should get there; it should be led by one who has a firm and long view of how law may help change and shape society.
It should not be charted by one who is, effective from the date of his appointment, a lame duck. Regardless of his qualifications and track record, this, unfortunately, is the situation that Gloria Arroyo has placed Justice Panganiban in. By not putting a premium on seniority as well as vision but instead stressing accommodation and by highlighting that Justice Puno would still have another chance to be Chief Justice when Justice Panganiban retires in 2006, Gloria Arroyo has put a lame duck in the Supreme Court. Starting today, everyone knows the clock is ticking and that Justice Panganiban is a seat warmer for a year. This is an insult Justice Panganiban does not deserve, this is an insult the Court does not deserve, this is another offense by Gloria Arroyo against the Filipino people for which she should not be forgiven.
I have been a lawyer for 15 years and a law professor for almost 10 and I love the law and the rule of law. Thus, Gloria Arroyo’s insult, I take personally. She is singlehandedly destroying all the democratic institutions that generations of martyrs like Ka Pepe Diokno, Lorenzo Tanada, Lean Alejandro had shed blood and given their lives for. There are no two ways about it: she must go.
I end this blog entry with my Congratulations to Mr. Justice, now Chief Justice, Panganiban. May his one year as Chief Justice be fruitful and may he strive mightily, with God’s help, to do what is right, not only what is popular or what is expected of him by Gloria Arroyo. May he, in his one year as Chief Justice, rise above the unfair label that Gloria Arroyo has pinned on him and prove me—and all the others who believe Justice Puno should have gotten the appointment—wrong. I would be the happiest Filipino in one year’s time should this happen.
In the meantime, sic Gloria transit mundi; this too, will pass. So will Gloria Arroyo.
I have also said this before, she is worse than Marcos and this shows it.
This might get me into a lot of trouble because: 1. I am a lawyer with cases pending before the Supreme Court and I am blogging about Gloria Arroyo’s choice for Chief Justice of the Philippines; 2. I am subject to the discipline of the Supreme Court; and 3. I have friends on Justice Panganiban’s chambers, who might feel bad about my blogging about their boss in this way.
Because lawyering is the only way I know how to put butter on my bread, I will say this: this is not about Justice Panganiban, this is about Gloria Arroyo and the damage she has inflicted on the court and the judicial system because of her senseless and totally trapo (shorthand for “traditional politician” but also very aptly vernacular for “dirty rag”, good only for throwing away) “revolving door” policy. But because lawyering is also the only way I know how to serve, I will say this: this is also about the Court and the way it’s independence will be determined in the future.
I write about this not because I do not like Justice Panganiban (I have no basis to “not like him” as I do not know him that well personally; I have some of his books as apparently I am on his mailing list) or because I do not like Gloria Arroyo but because I am a member of the Bar, an officer of the Court, and a Filipino. And I am offended, deeply offended, that Gloria Arroyo would insult everyone by foisting this appointment on us.
I stated before that I am not a rabid fan of Mr. Justice Puno but I do admire his judicial philosophy. We are, if I may be so bold to claim, kindred spirits in espousing greater protection for civil rights and human freedoms. Often, his pen--wielded mightily and consistently--and wit-- manifesting itself very often acerbically--have cut through layers of government-sponsored balderdash to expose and lay bare to the people what is most important to them: the truth. I often do not agree with his decisions but I have yet to find occasion to disrespect him. Of the three who were in the “race”, he was, in my opinion, the best qualified—coincidentally also, the most senior.
What offends me about Gloria Arroyo’s appointment of Justice Panganiban as Chief Justice of the Philippines is that she cheapens the Judiciary by making the highest post open to the simple expediency of accommodation. What offends me about Gloria Arroyo’s appointment of Justice Panganiban as Chief Justice of the Philippines is that she would choose not the best qualified and also the most senior but that she would choose based on a policy of appeasement. What offends me about this appointment is not that Justice Panganiban was chosen over Justice Puno but that Gloria Arroyo thinks that the rule of law should be made subject to a simplistic and “simpletonic” (my own word; don’t bother looking it up) policy of “giving everyone a chance.”
The direction of the Supreme Court and the Judicial Branch should be determined by a vision, not by political accommodation and expediency. It should be charted by someone who has a clear grasp of where the Court should go and how it should get there; it should be led by one who has a firm and long view of how law may help change and shape society.
It should not be charted by one who is, effective from the date of his appointment, a lame duck. Regardless of his qualifications and track record, this, unfortunately, is the situation that Gloria Arroyo has placed Justice Panganiban in. By not putting a premium on seniority as well as vision but instead stressing accommodation and by highlighting that Justice Puno would still have another chance to be Chief Justice when Justice Panganiban retires in 2006, Gloria Arroyo has put a lame duck in the Supreme Court. Starting today, everyone knows the clock is ticking and that Justice Panganiban is a seat warmer for a year. This is an insult Justice Panganiban does not deserve, this is an insult the Court does not deserve, this is another offense by Gloria Arroyo against the Filipino people for which she should not be forgiven.
I have been a lawyer for 15 years and a law professor for almost 10 and I love the law and the rule of law. Thus, Gloria Arroyo’s insult, I take personally. She is singlehandedly destroying all the democratic institutions that generations of martyrs like Ka Pepe Diokno, Lorenzo Tanada, Lean Alejandro had shed blood and given their lives for. There are no two ways about it: she must go.
I end this blog entry with my Congratulations to Mr. Justice, now Chief Justice, Panganiban. May his one year as Chief Justice be fruitful and may he strive mightily, with God’s help, to do what is right, not only what is popular or what is expected of him by Gloria Arroyo. May he, in his one year as Chief Justice, rise above the unfair label that Gloria Arroyo has pinned on him and prove me—and all the others who believe Justice Puno should have gotten the appointment—wrong. I would be the happiest Filipino in one year’s time should this happen.
In the meantime, sic Gloria transit mundi; this too, will pass. So will Gloria Arroyo.
December 20, 2005
Deck the halls. . . with work
No shopping yet. Yup, that’s the operative phrase for me, thus far.
I’ve always been a last-minute shopper; as a result, I end up spending more because I end up buying certain things because I have to. . . simply because there’s no more time.
Because Christmas Eve and Christmas Day 2005 are on a Saturday and Sunday, the week leading to them (this week) has been an ordinary week (read: working week) . Thus, things are hectic as deadlines are being met and all the things I put off for later are now catching up.
So, no shopping yet. Hopefully, I’ll be able to do some before Christmas hits.
I’ve always been a last-minute shopper; as a result, I end up spending more because I end up buying certain things because I have to. . . simply because there’s no more time.
Because Christmas Eve and Christmas Day 2005 are on a Saturday and Sunday, the week leading to them (this week) has been an ordinary week (read: working week) . Thus, things are hectic as deadlines are being met and all the things I put off for later are now catching up.
So, no shopping yet. Hopefully, I’ll be able to do some before Christmas hits.
December 16, 2005
Gratitude
In the past weeks, there is so much to be grateful for, despite the hectic schedule.
I’m starting to really get into the groove of things at OLA, depending on how you view it—that may be good news or bad news. I see so many things I want to change; I also see many things that need to be changed. At the same time, I want to be realistic and not get frustrated. I’ve set a 365-day vision (that’s how long my term is—365 days); hope half of what I’ve targeted gets done.
I’m also really getting into the groove of writing this book on criminal law (it’s a four-volume work on various heinous crimes; I got the short stick and was assigned the volume on rape—very depressing). I’m very fortunate to have a research assistant who is extremely diligent, very committed, very organized and very intelligent—I don’t have major problems with the research and even the outline has been enhanced by her input. It makes writing the book a lot easier.
I just ended the 14th week of the Retreat in Daily Life (RDL) as well this week. And it has been a tremendous experience!!! I went into it with the expectation simply to sharpen discernment and discover new ways of praying but ended up with a ton of insights as well as a renewed and fresh relationship with the Lord; the very personal encounters that repetition, contemplation, fantasy, colloquy allow you makes the various readings and contemplation points very fresh and very pointed. My last set of readings allowed me to focus on His Kingship, the coming of His Kingdom (perfect for advent), Jesus’s Incarnation and His Birth (perfect for Christmas)—and it has allowed me to see Christmas through new eyes. The RDL has not only made my blessing cup, but also my prayer journal, run over.
I’m excited to see our new office. Hopefully, by early next year, we will be able to move in. My partners, Alex and Arno, have really done a great job of looking after the day-to-day needs of the carpenters.
Throughout it all, God’s provision has been manifest and constant. Many unexpected blessings have poured in.
Lord, I thank You for the way You continue to outpour Your great love in the many different ways You have chosen. I pray for the grace to be able to recognize Your many channels of love for me and for the added grace to be able to respond in kind for those whom You ask me to love as well.
I’m starting to really get into the groove of things at OLA, depending on how you view it—that may be good news or bad news. I see so many things I want to change; I also see many things that need to be changed. At the same time, I want to be realistic and not get frustrated. I’ve set a 365-day vision (that’s how long my term is—365 days); hope half of what I’ve targeted gets done.
I’m also really getting into the groove of writing this book on criminal law (it’s a four-volume work on various heinous crimes; I got the short stick and was assigned the volume on rape—very depressing). I’m very fortunate to have a research assistant who is extremely diligent, very committed, very organized and very intelligent—I don’t have major problems with the research and even the outline has been enhanced by her input. It makes writing the book a lot easier.
I just ended the 14th week of the Retreat in Daily Life (RDL) as well this week. And it has been a tremendous experience!!! I went into it with the expectation simply to sharpen discernment and discover new ways of praying but ended up with a ton of insights as well as a renewed and fresh relationship with the Lord; the very personal encounters that repetition, contemplation, fantasy, colloquy allow you makes the various readings and contemplation points very fresh and very pointed. My last set of readings allowed me to focus on His Kingship, the coming of His Kingdom (perfect for advent), Jesus’s Incarnation and His Birth (perfect for Christmas)—and it has allowed me to see Christmas through new eyes. The RDL has not only made my blessing cup, but also my prayer journal, run over.
I’m excited to see our new office. Hopefully, by early next year, we will be able to move in. My partners, Alex and Arno, have really done a great job of looking after the day-to-day needs of the carpenters.
Throughout it all, God’s provision has been manifest and constant. Many unexpected blessings have poured in.
Lord, I thank You for the way You continue to outpour Your great love in the many different ways You have chosen. I pray for the grace to be able to recognize Your many channels of love for me and for the added grace to be able to respond in kind for those whom You ask me to love as well.
December 12, 2005
Bird flu hits the Magic Kingdom
I found this funny. I doubt if the HK Tourism Board would though, as well as the Disney people. I hope the duck didn't get fired for this stunt.
December 07, 2005
Mercy, mercy on us
Just a thought.
Instead of the three-ring circus that is the House and Senate (apologies to circuses everywhere and the very few members of both houses who actually work and make sense) investigating Mr. Garcillano, why doesn't the new Ombudsperson Merdeditas "Mercy" Gutierrez throw her hat into the ring and use her considerable powers to investigate Garci?
Certainly, she has the mandate.
Certainly, she has the powers.
Certainly, she has the budget.
Certainly, she has the people's support.
Perhaps, her reticence, despite her rhetoric, is because --
[1] She doesn't have a hat;
[2] She doesn't know where the ring is;
[3] She can't throw, for squat;
[4] She's part of the circus;
[5] She doesn't have the nerve.
Oh Mercy. Mercy, indeed for us--who will need it.
Instead of the three-ring circus that is the House and Senate (apologies to circuses everywhere and the very few members of both houses who actually work and make sense) investigating Mr. Garcillano, why doesn't the new Ombudsperson Merdeditas "Mercy" Gutierrez throw her hat into the ring and use her considerable powers to investigate Garci?
Certainly, she has the mandate.
Certainly, she has the powers.
Certainly, she has the budget.
Certainly, she has the people's support.
Perhaps, her reticence, despite her rhetoric, is because --
[1] She doesn't have a hat;
[2] She doesn't know where the ring is;
[3] She can't throw, for squat;
[4] She's part of the circus;
[5] She doesn't have the nerve.
Oh Mercy. Mercy, indeed for us--who will need it.
Great Goblet
It’s a movie that you’ll love or not love. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire invites that kind of a reaction. A mere 2 hours plus, coming from the thickest book of the series so far—it might come as a let down for those who expected everything in the book to be on screen.
I must admit, after Prisoner of Azkaban (which, for me, is still the best of all the films thus far), I was ready to be greatly disappointed especially after I discovered that it would be Mike Newell (Four Weddings and a Funeral) who would be directing and not Alfonso Cuaron (Y tu mama tambien). But, surprisingly, I was not disappointed. . . I even liked Goblet.
It’s a coming of age film—and all the characters (especially the trio of Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint and Emma Watson) age nicely. Daniel Radcliffe inhabits the Harry Potter role quite well and Emma Watson will break many hearts.
More than a children’s book and story now, Steve Kloves manages to make this installment darker and quite exciting, even if you already know what’s supposed to happen (having read the book). The “re-incarnation” of Voldemort (Ralph Fiennes) is quite startling and courageous—because the scene is very dark and would definitely scare away some of the younger viewers who are the natural readers of the books. But Newell and Kloves manage to balance the scene quite well (although I didn’t particularly like the short speech by Voldermort about ‘love’ being the ultimate weapon and “old magic”—it sounded like a rip-off of C.S. Lewis’s The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, particularly when Aslan resurrects; but I digress).I must admit I was more interested in how Newell would handle the developing relationship between Ron and Hermione and Harry and Cho Chang (newbie Katie Leung); this is where Newell excels. And he shows his deft touch here with these teeners—there is chemistry, there is sexual tension and there is that mystery as well as excitement as you realize that Hermione and Harry will always just be “buddies”
even if they do look good together and that Ron and Hermione will be “it.” A scene that is in the film but not in the book tips it off—Hermione venting her frustration at Ron’s inability to express himself after her exciting date with Victor Krum at the Yule ball. George Lucas can learn a few things from Newell about sexual tension and keeping things subtle (compare Lucas’s sledgehammer treatment of the relationship between Anakin Skywalker and Padme Amidala).The effects are, of course, very good but what I liked about it is that there were no gratuitous effects. After four movies, the franchise has finally found its niche; despite different directors, Harry Potter has managed to not only remain consistent but also produce exciting installments. After Cuaron and Newell (forget Columbus), Harry Potter has finally gotten off to cruising speed. Hopefully, with Order of the Phoenix, it can soar higher.
I liked Goblet of Fire, despite Newell. Hopefully Cuaron can come back to direct Order of the Phoenix; now that would be a blast.
December 06, 2005
A totally different writing experience
Writing a book is an experience, really. How do they do it? I don’t think I’ll ever knock another commentator again (ask all my students in criminal law and you’ll know what I think of commentaries and commentators; it’s poetic—or even divine—irony that I’m now doing what I’ve been deriding all these years).
I’ve been reading so many cases just to keep up and this is a subject I’ve been teaching for several years now. It’s also a very depressing subject—rape (I know of a few women who have experienced it and it is not something you would wish on your worst enemy—regardless of gender). I asked one of my former students—currently in first year—to help me out and she’s been churning out stuff like there’s no tomorrow (turns out she graduated summa cum laude—no wonder) and so I’m up to my neck in digests. He he, serves me right.
It started as a legal reference—a primer of sorts. So I thought, okay, just a few pages. So I started with general instructions to her—a few digests here and there--and she gives me several pages of digests a few days after. After I get the information that it’s going to be upgraded into a book, I come up with an outline—and discover that she also has made some sort of outline—and I end up with more cases. So, I’m reading cases on rape like anything.
Sometime soon, I’m going to finish this book; I hope it’s soon. This topic is depressing.
I’ve been reading so many cases just to keep up and this is a subject I’ve been teaching for several years now. It’s also a very depressing subject—rape (I know of a few women who have experienced it and it is not something you would wish on your worst enemy—regardless of gender). I asked one of my former students—currently in first year—to help me out and she’s been churning out stuff like there’s no tomorrow (turns out she graduated summa cum laude—no wonder) and so I’m up to my neck in digests. He he, serves me right.
It started as a legal reference—a primer of sorts. So I thought, okay, just a few pages. So I started with general instructions to her—a few digests here and there--and she gives me several pages of digests a few days after. After I get the information that it’s going to be upgraded into a book, I come up with an outline—and discover that she also has made some sort of outline—and I end up with more cases. So, I’m reading cases on rape like anything.
Sometime soon, I’m going to finish this book; I hope it’s soon. This topic is depressing.
December 05, 2005
December 04, 2005
To"Anonymous"
I’m flattered people read my blog. It’s not that attractive; it doesn’t have hi-tech thingamagigs. It just has words, ideas, thoughts, reflections, opinions—all of which have one thing in common, they are all MINE.
You’re free to disagree with me; I find that I invite that, anyway, without asking for it. I can take disagreement in the same way I can dish it out.
I am a big fan of integrity. I mean what I say, I say what I mean. I do not take kindly to people calling me a hypocrite—especially people who hide behind anonymity, post comments to MY blog and refuse to even put their names to identify themselves. I also do not take kindly to people who pretend to lecture me on how I should live my life and live out my principles and do not have the basic decency, courtesy and cojones to sign their name.
To “anonymous” who called me a hypocrite in my comments section—get some cojones (apologies to the female of the species) and sign your name to any posts you want to make. You want to write to me, identify yourself first so we can have an intelligent exchange of ideas; I refuse to converse with a nobody and that’s what you are because you don’t have the decency, the courtesy, the cojones to sign your name. Why, are you so ashamed of your opinion that you wouldn’t want to be identified with it? Tsk. Tsk. Whoever you are, I pray you have a good life ahead because from your tone, it doesn’t seem like you’ve had one thus far; and, unless, you manage to get some integrity (start with cojones), you probably won’t.
You’re free to disagree with me; I find that I invite that, anyway, without asking for it. I can take disagreement in the same way I can dish it out.
I am a big fan of integrity. I mean what I say, I say what I mean. I do not take kindly to people calling me a hypocrite—especially people who hide behind anonymity, post comments to MY blog and refuse to even put their names to identify themselves. I also do not take kindly to people who pretend to lecture me on how I should live my life and live out my principles and do not have the basic decency, courtesy and cojones to sign their name.
To “anonymous” who called me a hypocrite in my comments section—get some cojones (apologies to the female of the species) and sign your name to any posts you want to make. You want to write to me, identify yourself first so we can have an intelligent exchange of ideas; I refuse to converse with a nobody and that’s what you are because you don’t have the decency, the courtesy, the cojones to sign your name. Why, are you so ashamed of your opinion that you wouldn’t want to be identified with it? Tsk. Tsk. Whoever you are, I pray you have a good life ahead because from your tone, it doesn’t seem like you’ve had one thus far; and, unless, you manage to get some integrity (start with cojones), you probably won’t.
December 02, 2005
A great decade. . . of cheese
On the other hand, the 80s were also known for some of the cheesiest and tackiest things ever dreamt up:
- That’s Entertainment - all editions. (No other comment required.)
- That’s Entertainment - all members (This is one black spot that Lea Salonga would probably want to expunge from her resume.).
- German Moreno’s lunchtime extravaganzas - “Germspesyal” (read: “Germs-spayshal”, if by German Moreno but “Germs-spayshul” if by Ruffa—who even then was already sounding like a trying hard valley girl) later to morph into “GMA Supershow”. (Again, no other comment required.)
- Hair spray and industrial grade cement-like hair gel. (Not only did this result in some of the cheesiest do’s around but it probably accounted for that great big hole in the skies and for the climate change problems we’ve been having.)
- Menudo (with a really young Ricky Martin and those falsettos going, “gotta catch a plane at 730” which caused no end of sonic distress to dogs everywhere.)
- Netting substituting as clothes (look up Duran Duran’s old videos and you’ll know what I mean.) and while we’re on the topic . . .
- Duran Duran (Their songs are catchy but what do they mean? I think the break-up did them a lot of good.)
- Shoulder pads (esp on Gary V.; hey, I’m a great fan of Gary V but he had shoulder pads on his clothes for the longest time—and that’s reaching to the 90’s.)
- Martin and Pops singing duets plus one (because one of them couldn’t really sing, guess which among them? That was really tacky, one holding a dead mic with the other singing above pre-taped audio.)
- Knots Landing, Falcon Crest and an aging Dallas (the precursors of all the telenovelas now.)
- The A-Team;
- That awful song written by Tito Sotto and sung by Virna Lisi (yes, that’s her name) after EDSA 1, Magkaiiiiisaaaaa!
- That awful anthem by Jim Paredes set as music video in a really bad but obvious rip-off of USA for Africa’s We are the world – Handog ng Pilipino sa Mundo - also during the days after EDSA 1; (postcript to both songs: if Ninoy Aquino had known that his death would spark such awful music, he might have decided against coming back.)
December 01, 2005
The One?
It’s a 3-way race for Chief Justice. Or is it?
Puno. Panganiban. Quisumbing. The three Senior Associate Justices, in that order, have declared their availability to be considered for Chief Justice. Of the three, Justice Puno enjoys the edge in seniority, intellect and vision; however, of the three, it appears that Panganiban enjoys the edge where it counts: the appointing power’s graces.
The Supreme Court is the third branch of government; the Chief Justice of the Philippines is the head of that branch. He should not be beholden—nor perceived to be beholden—to the appointing power. Nor should the appointing power be perceived to be making the Chief Justice beholden to it.
But, hello? Reality check. This is Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo’s government we’re talking about. In a word: shameless. In another word: corrupt. In yet another word: Unprincipled. I can go on but to make it easier for you, look up all adjectives for “rotten”, “evil”, “corrupt”, “unprincipled”, “shameless”, “brazen” and “illegitimate”, and you have words to describe Gloria’s government. Don’t get me started on Bunyi, Gonzales and Gonzalez; and please let’s not even go to De Venecia and Ramos. But I digress.
I am not a rabid fan of Justice Puno. I didn’t agree with his ruling in the Gloria Arroyo legitimacy issue. However, he is the best alternative of the three. His intellect cannot be disputed. His writing style is elegant and magisterial. His positions on (some) progressive issues ahead of his time. His elevation to Chief Justice is also the best way to show that, despite Gloria, some things still can be counted on, as a matter of principle.
However, with the recent appointment of Mercy Gutierrez, Mike Arroyo’s law school classmate and personal counsel to Gloria Arroyo, as Ombudsman, it doesn’t look too good for principled stands, progressive legal advocacies and intelligent discourses on the rule and role of law.
Suddenly, that 3-way race is starting to look like a rout.
Puno. Panganiban. Quisumbing. The three Senior Associate Justices, in that order, have declared their availability to be considered for Chief Justice. Of the three, Justice Puno enjoys the edge in seniority, intellect and vision; however, of the three, it appears that Panganiban enjoys the edge where it counts: the appointing power’s graces.
The Supreme Court is the third branch of government; the Chief Justice of the Philippines is the head of that branch. He should not be beholden—nor perceived to be beholden—to the appointing power. Nor should the appointing power be perceived to be making the Chief Justice beholden to it.
But, hello? Reality check. This is Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo’s government we’re talking about. In a word: shameless. In another word: corrupt. In yet another word: Unprincipled. I can go on but to make it easier for you, look up all adjectives for “rotten”, “evil”, “corrupt”, “unprincipled”, “shameless”, “brazen” and “illegitimate”, and you have words to describe Gloria’s government. Don’t get me started on Bunyi, Gonzales and Gonzalez; and please let’s not even go to De Venecia and Ramos. But I digress.
I am not a rabid fan of Justice Puno. I didn’t agree with his ruling in the Gloria Arroyo legitimacy issue. However, he is the best alternative of the three. His intellect cannot be disputed. His writing style is elegant and magisterial. His positions on (some) progressive issues ahead of his time. His elevation to Chief Justice is also the best way to show that, despite Gloria, some things still can be counted on, as a matter of principle.
However, with the recent appointment of Mercy Gutierrez, Mike Arroyo’s law school classmate and personal counsel to Gloria Arroyo, as Ombudsman, it doesn’t look too good for principled stands, progressive legal advocacies and intelligent discourses on the rule and role of law.
Suddenly, that 3-way race is starting to look like a rout.
364 days more
364 days to go till the end of my term as OLA director.
I started as OLA Director today at 8 am with a meeting and several administrative chores. Still need to get oriented with the way everything works—it’s been a while since I was part of the OLA decision-making processes; certainly, there are changes that need to be made, some of them ASAP, the others yesterday.
What I want for OLA is a return to basics. It is, essentially and first, a teaching clinic. It is part of the law school. It is not a center for cheap or free labor. It is also not supposed to be a substitute for the public prosecutor or the public attorney’s office.
OLA should not be handling cases that have little or no pedagogical value where, in doing so, we relieve the public prosecutor or the PAO of their duties; they are, after all, paid to do these duties. Instead, OLA should fill a niche—the same niche it created twenty plus years ago—a revolutionary way of looking at legal education where students are encouraged to look at law practice as pedagogy in itself.
OLA should also be fun. I had fun exploring the many ways law could work and the many ways law could not work when I was an intern a lifetime ago. But it ceases to be fun when the intern is snowed down by soooo many administrative requirements that the pedagogical value of case handling is overshadowed or weighted down by these requirements. Yes, OLA is 2000 units, but it can be 2000 units of fun.
Let’s see what happens in the next 364 days.
I started as OLA Director today at 8 am with a meeting and several administrative chores. Still need to get oriented with the way everything works—it’s been a while since I was part of the OLA decision-making processes; certainly, there are changes that need to be made, some of them ASAP, the others yesterday.
What I want for OLA is a return to basics. It is, essentially and first, a teaching clinic. It is part of the law school. It is not a center for cheap or free labor. It is also not supposed to be a substitute for the public prosecutor or the public attorney’s office.
OLA should not be handling cases that have little or no pedagogical value where, in doing so, we relieve the public prosecutor or the PAO of their duties; they are, after all, paid to do these duties. Instead, OLA should fill a niche—the same niche it created twenty plus years ago—a revolutionary way of looking at legal education where students are encouraged to look at law practice as pedagogy in itself.
OLA should also be fun. I had fun exploring the many ways law could work and the many ways law could not work when I was an intern a lifetime ago. But it ceases to be fun when the intern is snowed down by soooo many administrative requirements that the pedagogical value of case handling is overshadowed or weighted down by these requirements. Yes, OLA is 2000 units, but it can be 2000 units of fun.
Let’s see what happens in the next 364 days.
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