Disbelief Suspended, For Now

His prose is unhurried and reserved, each sentence reflective and audibly pleasant. His bearing and tempo quite relaxing, almost like a lullaby. The effects of his words are such that even if he threatens bodily harm upon our loved ones, we would accept it wholeheartedly.

If Noynoy, or “P-Noy” as his PR team so deftly suggested he be called, legitimately won the May 2010 presidential elections, it is clear that a lot of people are pinning their hopes on him making changes in the country. Thorough-going and genuine changes.

As I skim through the news blitz about his first State of the Nation Address (SONA), I began to relive a past life that was so immersed in Philippine politics I was awestruck by the magnitude of my involvement. It was a time when as a requisite to write any sensible opinion, I had to read at least three newspapers a day (two broadsheets and a tabloid) from cover to cover to produce an objective assessment of the country’s political situation. As you moved along surveying the political landscape though, you get used to certain absolute realities that simply never change.

People in power typically assume only two types: the haves and the have-mores. For the conscientisized, political analysis only vary in form but remain fundamentally the same in content. Thus, commentaries become a simple exercise of packaging something old into something new. Or news-worthy, to be precise. In the grim and grimy world of politics, commentary becomes mere reiterations of the obvious that even the media get picky with what they opt to publish.

Indeed, press relations is a sordid and often ignoble battle for media attention, with sensationalism and embellishment almost always winning the day. It’s a tempting notion, and I have observed how proponents, the government not excluded, have engaged in the most badly conceived PR campaigns and yet gain media mileage. If media exposure is to be the final gauge, the State is an irrefutable success.

P-Noy included.

In fact, P-Noy rode on the banner of anti-corruption to bag the Presidential post, a wise PR move that automatically endeared him to many Filipinos familiar and sickened by pervasive corruption. His avowed crusade against corruption also effectively set him apart from the other candidates, demonizing them and nicely setting himself up as the voters’ best choice. He also capitalized on the leftovers of the “Cory Magic,” securing the votes of the indecisive youth and conservative religious sections of the country. P-Noy offered an alternative, although hardly a fresh one, to a people already jaded by decades of rotten politics. In one of those man-on-the-street interviews made by a TV reporter, a commuter explained why she voted for P-Noy: “He is a God-fearing man and he was raised right.”

Telling the difference (or resemblance) between truth and conveniently arranged facts is simple. You say yes to one and agree to the other. The latter is superior because it inspires action or, in our case, inaction.

If you can’t be original, you can at least try to be consistent. Consistency, or at least a semblance of it, is the key to an interesting story. And P-Noy knows it. I gather that the centerpiece of P-Noy’s first SONA is still about corruption. Already he chastises the previous Arroyo administration for fund allotment discrepancies, particularly in the latter’s home province of Pampanga just before the May elections. A classic case of misdirection, or maybe just a good investment to chafe off some future heat under his watch, just in case.

Incidentally, the Arroyo’s appear to have cornered a sort of political bloc of their own right in the Lower House. Former President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo replaced her son Mikey Macapagal-Arroyo as Congressional Representative for the 2nd District of Pampanga. Meanwhile, Dato Macapagal-Arroyo and in-law Iggy Arroyo occupy seats for the 1st District of Camarines Sur and 5th District of Negros Occidental, respectively. To compound this absurdity, Mikey still joins them, but this time as a supposed Party-list Representative for security guards and tricycle drivers.

How long P-Noy will hold his anti-corruption stance, only time will tell. But if he must prosecute, he has to do so with resolute haste, lest he be accused by pundits as simply witch-hunting. Because whether the tact was intended or not, P-Noy’s administration will be a case in comparison against the fetid backdrop of the previous one. So far, his current media bytes are appealing (although not that impressive). He at least has the Arroyo camp on the defensive, which is a welcome start. We await the follow-through eagerly. For now, he can bask under the sanctuary accorded by due benefit of doubt. And if he falters, well, he can be understood (but not forgiven) for simply being true to his class.▼

Done, While I Weight

Time stamp: as of this post, I weigh in at 218 pounds.

A reluctant admission follows. I am now factually overweight.

A few hours earlier, I accompanied a colleague to the office clinic. He was feeling a bit waned due to lack of sleep and had wanted to have his blood pressure checked. Luckily, it turns out his B.P. was lingering just below the threshold. As the company nurse educated him about the perils of a hedonistic, destructive lifestyle, I, out of boredom, climbed onto the weighing scale to see how much I weighed.

As we left the clinic, what immediately came to my mind was something seemingly irrelevant and at the same time utterly obvious – basketball.

Sure, I play basketball, or should I say “played” a few years back. You may begin to infer several motivations for this particular post, not far-fetched of them being the realization of weight gain has led me to belabor my sudden limitations of pursuing sports and other physically strenuous activities, which I would expound shortly, thus this blog. Or alternatively, you may infer that cognizance of one's obesity has challenged me to pursue sports and other physically strenuous activities, which I would be detailing later, thus this blog. Or yet alternatively, the knowledge has elevated me to a higher plane of existence inspiring a sincere appreciation of health and a re-evaluation of my unhealthy lifestyle, which I will be expounding later on, thus this blog. I assure you, however, that although I admit such information has provoked a sense of self-control particularly on my food intake, my thought patterns are not usually as straightforward. To those hoping for weight-loss or health-enhancement tips, this post will disappoint. The rest of you, please carry on.

Flashback to the early 1990s. Almost two decades ago, when dial-up connections and the Internet were virtually unheard of, there was the Philippine Basketball Association (PBA). As far as the people of my generation were concerned, there were only two teams that mattered at the time – Alaska and Ginebra. And of course, there was Sonny Jaworski.

Jawo’s team, Ginebra, was suffering from a losing streak against teams with younger and more versatile players. But people still watched the PBA anyway because of Jawo. Not so much for his skill than for his insufferable personality and showmanship. Jawo was a pro-league cager who had wiles and guiles of a street-ball player, a quality that endeared him to many Filipino fans. He played physical and dirty. He was always raring for a brawl and would spit literally upon any opponent. To this date, he is considered the most popular, most charismatic player/coach in PBA history. I say this for a fact that when Jawo retired from basketball in 1998 to join a different arena that was the Philippine Senate, the PBA died. None of the teams mattered. Ginebra didn’t matter. I stopped watching the PBA and lost interest in basketball altogether.

Many thought that in 1995, Ginebra would get its much needed break when they drafted 7-footer E.J. Feihl. Turns out their search for a key Center would come later the following year in the guise of the 6’ 9” Marlou Aquino. But despite the disappointing performance of Feihl, he was actually the first person who came to mind this morning as I took a mental snapshot of where the meter settled on the scale.

Renowned basketball commentator and sports broadcaster Quinito Henson was also a fixture in the PBA and another reason to watch the games. My father often permitted me to bring my dinner plate in front of the TV, especially when Ginebra was playing. Quinito’s near-American accent, knee-jerk witticisms and not to mention close-to-absurd basketball jargon nicely complimented every bit of hardcourt action. There was never a dull moment when Quinito anchored. In one of Ginebra's games, I recall Quinito had thus commented about E.J. Feihl. Short of saying Jawo's Center was close to useless if only he wasn't tall: “Just look at E.J. Feihl, 250 pounds of pure meat.”

This was absolutely hilarious then. It made me laugh as I recalled it on our way out of the clinic. I stand an inch shy of six feet. Given this height, I can look bulky to a certain degree and still get away with it (or at least no one will risk saying this in front of my face). If one were to look hard enough, one could still see in me vague traces of a figure that once graced the gym. I don’t feel heavy at all, although occasionally I feel winded, overall I feel great.

Perhaps the human body grows accustomed to gradual changes they become unnoticeable. Like ordinary workers who have done their jobs so routinely and for so long that despite performing so well they remain unappreciated. If I attempted it, I probably wouldn’t be able to hang on to that regulation-height goal the way I used to during my prime with such ease and elegance. If you must know, I was part of my hometown's lineup for the Inter-Barangay, the highest point in my basketball career.

In any case, using E.J. Feihl as my point of reference leads me to conclude that considering my height, I am indeed overweight. Only a twenty-or-so pound disparity between two objects with a good 12-feet difference in height is an obvious incongruity. If you’re wondering what’s the point of this post, moral of the story, denouement and such, your interests would be best served by the last sentence preceding this one. That I managed to squeeze together three synonyms in a single sentence while making perfect sense is of course no small feat.▼

And So...

It's time to write in earnest.

Of course, as with any freshly conceived endeavor, a short introduction to this blog is in order. I’ve decided it’s time to stop moping around and start doing what’s necessary. At least, what I feel and think is necessary, and what is permissible resource-wise and in my current state of affairs. I have eyes, ears and adequate sensibilities – the basic elements for observation – at my disposal. It would be an utter shame not to convert it into productive creativity.

We always make promises, set objectives even to ourselves. For people who are susceptible to high levels of stress, I usually recommend setting short-term goals that can be easily achieved and measured. It keeps us sane and brings a feeling of accomplishment that surely offsets bouts of frustration. I for one would like to make this blog my daily thought exercise.

Everything will be a daily random. Commentaries involving politics, work, relationships, technology, literature (I am still contemplating whether to post occasional fiction), music, film, entertainment, anything and everything that is either imaginative or factual. Even the outright weird (but hopefully never nonsensical).

There’s this nagging feeling that somehow I need to do this. I can’t put my finger on it yet, although I hope that in the process it finds me, instead. You may ask what I intend to accomplish with this exercise. My already prepared reply: So far, none yet.▼