Pakyawon ni PACQUIAO!

 

Pakyawon ni PACQUIAO! 

From the unserious world of pugilism to the equally comedic world of politics, he wants them all.

When supposedly right-thinking people deride and stigmatize Pacquiao, his pronouncements, and his high-strung ambitions whether expressed or not, one could justifiably declare that they are simply looking at themselves in the mirror.  Exercising projection without really being aware of it.

The reality of Pacquiao and the public elective positions he has held so far is nothing more than an honest reflection of politics and the electorate in the home country.  And his eventual ascendancy to the highest public office in the land would simply be an affirmation and continuation of this warped sense of self-awareness.  Local political history cannot deny this.

And if others consider him arrogant and presumptuous for thinking that his wealth will help him be elevated to the highest office, then they  err again since he would simply be applying the lessons he had learned about local public governance.  That most politicians  ascend to their political thrones via the reliable assistance of grease money and other corrupt practices. And perpetuate themselves in office in the self-same ways.

Unabatingly waiting therefore for the eventuality that Pacquiao becomes the President of the Philippines.  It could come sooner than many think.

One petty recommendation:  Please get rid of the facial hair once you are sitting on the throne.

One important Caveat:  We are all reassured that if he becomes president, he would be the least likely to steal from the public coffers or enrich himself, comparing from all the possible and potential candidates we can at this time think about.

A cognitively-challenged and infirm individual like a Biden got the vaunted US presidency, garnering supposedly the highest number of popular votes recorded in the entire history of US politics.  So who is to deny the same opportunity to a Pacquiao who has attained unparalleled renown in the world - granted it is limited to the pugilistic world, but which after all  entire humanity is keenly attuned to and countless numbers follow like a religion?

Going Negative On Our God

 I listen to many Christian devotees painfully declare and enumerate their daily trials and tribulations like they were obstacle courses where we all must get ourselves dirty, bloodied, and spent.  In a word, like sadistic pursuits to be tolerated and weathered through in our lives. And the final aim is get out of it all still breathing and alive.  And in a way, our God must also be of the same mind and bent, a gloomy Being watching from a distance belaboring the wanton cries and sufferings of his beloved creatures.

If we are also like-minded, then I do believe we are missing the meaning and purpose of the entire exercise or journey.  For after all, life is only one big and long sojourn, from a place of trial to one of eternal bliss.

Before everything else, be reminded and assured that God has promised not to tempt or test us beyond our individual capacities.  Therefore assuring that if we only put and apply ourselves earnestly in all our trials we will come out victorious.

Of what mind are we then to regard the daily vicissitudes that bombard our lives on a daily basis?

Simple.  Each one faced and resolved leads us closer to the human perfection we seek in this temporal life.  Therefore, each trial makes one that much stronger and more prepared, for the ones coming after.  Not making us dirty, bloodied, and spent. In due time, we get closer to our own and individual imitation of our model, Jesus Christ.

For us Christians our daily vicissitudes are positive manifestations of a Caring Father who wants to assure us by His means to get as much blessings and graces to enjoy the promised eternity.  

Winning for any athlete who has been tried and tested so many times could not get any more blissful.

Geometry and Fr. John Rohr

 

66 Year ago I took a subject in high school that had baffled me to no end, giving me sleepless nights in order to study and resulting in a bit of mental wreck to my young and easily traumatized mind. And yet in all honesty, I understood nothing much about the subject and the "theorems" that we were supposed to get acquainted with.  For the entire year we must have examined, proved, written, questioned, etc. a total of 12 or 15 theorems, and yet I was still totally in the dark. 

And for the love of me, I was just as baffled how I passed the subject.  I distinctly recall that during a grading exam, I had to resort to memorizing and writing down an entire theorem which was composed of many parts, straight out of the book so I could have something to say.  The teacher had promised beforehand that he would include an extra bonus part, a part where we could write out a theorem that we read and understood in the book.  That was the only possible answer I could submit. And it was the shortest one I could find in the book.

The subject was Ge·om·e·try, "the branch of mathematics concerned with the properties and relations of points, lines, surfaces, solids, and higher dimensional analogs."

The experience so traumatizing that even today just being reminded of it throws me into some kind of mental fit.  A few days ago, I was again reminded by it when I saw a picture of the young Jesuit who had come thousands of miles away to teach us the subject.

That young Jesuit himself was quite unforgettable, with his loud and animated ways of teaching a subject that I had thought was as boring and flat as a piece of paper.  He also had the unique habit of putting his chair on top of the table and sitting there, surveying the place like a hungry hawk.  This he did when he was giving out exams, on the expressed supposition that he wanted to make sure nobody was cheating.

And I had figured prominently in one such episode during a grading exam.

I was so clueless and lost I was turning my head every which way when suddenly I felt something hit me right at the top of my head.  It was chalk.   And this young Jesuit was barreling straight at me, jumping off from his high perch but he was smiling though  or maybe smirking.  It was then I felt my eyes moistened  thoroughly humiliated but I said nothing. My first time ever to be thrown at and hit by chalk coming from a teacher.  He came and looked at my paper which was completely blank anyway.  That ended that episode.

But years later, this young Jesuit back in the States and ready for his ordination sends me a nice printed invitation to his becoming a priest, complete with a stampita and personal note, asking how I was and also about my elder brothers that he had also taught. Surprisingly, I had kept those mementoes all these years. Maybe that kind gesture should have given me a clue about how and why I passed that subject having learned nothing, though efforts were certainly not spared.

Last night as I lay awake, this same thought came barreling in into my troubled mind, giving me no respite and forcing me to rise up.  So I did and sat in front of my PC and googled about Geometry theorems, particularly about Theorem 2B which I recall was the theorem I had memorized as my only answer to a bonus question.

One result was a video, so I faithfully went through the whole exercise, listening to a British lady speaker who was not easy to understand, which in turn was made harder by the subject matter.  Anyway, after more than 10 minutes later she was done with the presentation: expressing the theorem, the givens, the proof, etc. and the solution.

I had a small reason to feel good.  I did understand a bit how Geometry worked.  And would have learned more even in high school had I allowed my mind to engage in the subject more and better.

Thanks for the lesson, Fr. Rohr, however late it is.

And here is one final tidbit.  I did learn one thing from him which later on I would relay to some students of mine in high school.

How to make a more or less perfect circle on the blackboard.  How? With your back turned to the board, let your hand with the chalk touch the board and start making the circle as you turn around.

Works every time! 

MOMENTS ABOUT PASSING: When One is 79, pushing 80

I find myself mindlessly marking the number of my many friends and fellow sojourners                                 who have gone ahead.

To the land of mist and uncertainty, a land from where no traveler has returned                                               to tell and reveal.

I fancy myself independent of mind, but deeply curious and quite simply a busybody,                                   with no place to go to occupy one's idle moments.

I eagerly scour the known universe of thought and notions with my feeble steps,                                          eagerly searching about the world of uncertainly we all are bound to end with.

Yet one hardly finds things easy to understand to build on, to unravel the truths                                           about the land who all certainly are going to land into.

Yes, a land who all know we are inexorably heading to, but clearly having no exact facts                             what, where and why we all are destined to it.

A most mystifying thought to consider, given the surety of its eventual happening                                       and we can only exclaim, we know it comes but not when it comes.  

We can anchor our truths only on the faith we inherited or adhere, and rely on the countless                   words piously spoken or written about it.

That, what and how it is will depend largely on how we live and conduct our temporal lives                     on this at times God-forsaken place of trials and tribulation.

That it will be easy and pleasant if we are frugal with the alluring enjoyments and human                      pleasures that vie for our attention here on this earth.

That a life blessed with many prayerful moments of introspection and earnest supplications                    will be a requisite for entry and acceptance. 

But that a life of ease and comfort even in the twilight of one's ebbing existence, a life that tries to          anticipate or co-opt the ultimately fated reality is a sure way not only to lose sight                            of the goal,  but to miss it altogether.

This belief does give one a sense not only of purpose and mission, but one of quiet contentment             and resignation.

That one's sacrificing efforts are truly treasures that merit their rewards elsewhere, where there          is no end and no counting of days and nights.

No more counting of friends and sojourners who have gone ahead.                                                            For soon, here and there, before, now and later will have no meaning, and no sense.

And better still, the vicissitudes of day and night, joy and sorrow, pain and comfort,                               are no longer inevitable choices.

Crazy(?) Ruminations

 

Life plods along even as the axis-rotation of the earth appears to have been gravely skewed  based on what we continue to see in the grim parade of  marching events in our besieged world.  Events tumbling every which way, the up appearing down while the down seems up, the right being depicted as wrong, the truths inverted into falsities. Much like living in an alternate universe, with reality appearing like mirror images all in reverse.

As the earth appears to be spinning erratically we all are fearful of an eventual loss of our collective equilibrium, or really, our collective sanity.  So how does one maintain balance?  Maybe by simply getting these puzzling turns of events out into the open, into the glaring daylight and hopefully the disparate pieces will realign or are seen differently as getting back to their rightful places. Which I personally doubt.  Anyway here goes.

Much as one hopes things we see are simply mirages, but to one's chagrin, these eerie apparitions have been so for a while and remain unchanged continuing  their awkward usurpation of reality.  Start with the continuing scourge we call the pandemic. What about the naked war-like posturings of some powers. Then sidle along to the chaotic politics in the US, as preponderantly and incessantly dissected and discussed in all media, including the chattering classes in social media. One cannot help notice it because it  pops up very prominently like a sore thumb. Its  beleaguered president sitting alone dismally stripped of all options in his quest to be heard regarding his claims of massive electoral frauds.

One is hard pressed to fathom the merciless accusations and claims taken against the targeted prey coming from the mightiest temporal force yet assembled on the face of the earth. Sensing the buckling down of the harangued target, we find that the newly-minted potent political force in the American landscape reveals itself as merciless and brutal in dealing with those who defy it.  No stone is left unturned and unattended. Any opposition however token or weak will be crushed.  Thus in one feel swoop, the hapless but mightiest public official in the world is summarily shorn of his princely but petty privileges like the uses of his social media accounts which he uses to communicate with his unflinching loyalists which by conservative estimates account for half of the electorate.  The edicts originating and dictated by fledgling overlords not quite statesman-like enough but possessed of wealth and power beyond the dreams of ordinary mortals and who have arrogantly anointed themselves as  moral guardians and executioners for the citizens of this big country. 

Sensing further the vanquished being subdued by their pre-emptive strikes, the rest of the herd approaches and circles in, ready to pounce and devour.  With their rhetoric one senses the obvious relish and pleasure in their countenances. They seem not able to get enough satisfaction in their acts of  relieving themselves of their  hateful lexicon.  They cannot help repeat themselves in cadence and like drones buzzing above.  They are all expecting to hand-deliver their own merciless coup de grace.

Ironic that all this is aimed and being delivered to one now so utterly hamstrung in most things invading hordes are noted to possess and are feared.  He has no despotic powers.  He has no militia or military, since we are assured they all are poised simply to stand down and not follow his commands even as he continues to hold the official trappings of his office.  He essentially has no meaningful powers left, save for his continued resort to at times volleys of  admittedly of fast and loose rhetoric.  We have seen that he cannot even muster control of the several departments under him. Much less of the party that cradled him and which he had liberally partnered with in his many accomplishments.

But just the same  the angry advocates and believers of  the other side continue to be  flabbergasted, for they cannot understand why Trump still has massive popular support from the common people.  And this is where their inordinate hatred and morbid fear of him emanate, even when he appears to stand solitary and helpless before the world.  Their fear is more than palpable, making them concoct more  possible actions and  subterfuges  to muzzle and  silence him.  In a manner which is not only total but thorough. They aim to remove his person, his memory, and any traces of him from the face of the earth. Of his present, past, and future.  Already from the early get-go they had promised to exhume his past business dealings, and all the legal claims against his person and his business after he leaves.  And for the future, they heatedly declare to bring against him impeachment papers and claims premised on the 25th Amendment which they had both previously brought before to naught to guarantee he does not have a future.  Many may find the absolute zaniness of such moves, given the superficiality and the proximity of the end to his first term.  All because, they are so afraid this beast may still not be contained and constrained by the manifold measures they already initiated and cooked up.

The perfunctory calls for unity from the declared victors are not really heedless, rather they have of necessity come to fruition by the lines drawn.  Yes, there is unity as we speak, but it is not the unity into one that has ensued, rather it is the unity of two possibly seething factions with lines clearly drawn to separate and estrange them for battle engagement. It is now between  us and the enemy within.  The patriots versus the domestic terrorists. That is now the world the US of A  lives in, inherited from the past actions inflicted against the republic by those whose fevered quest for power and influence know no bounds and limits.  What an upside-down world it is.  Those incorrigibly invested in the supreme self-righteousness of their causes whether honestly or willfully sourced will not be appeased or satisfied with anything less than total annihilation, including for those who have the hapless misfortune of casting their lot on the target. Out with the enemy lists, they shout from their gilded ramparts. Time for cleansing and re-education.

By the way, from the viewpoint of Catholics never in the country's history have the stars been so aligned.  It has a Supreme Court headed by a Catholic jurist, with about 5 or 6  justices out of 9 also Catholics.  The more numerous and powerful Lower House of Congress has a female head who is also Catholic. And .. tada, a president-elect who is not only Catholic, but devoutly so as publicly pronounced.  And who is tacitly favored by the Papacy. But does the domain reflect the peace, inclusiveness and universality the Church is vaunted for? And beyond that what about the congruence of the moral policies of the upcoming administration with the enduring and unchanging doctrines of the Church?  Judge for yourself.

Finally,  disheartened to note that  a good number of media pundits and amateur acolytes on social media who use such stringent and merciless rhetoric against this "sinner" are also  Catholics.

Lord, in your strict justice, please allow your mercy to shower and reign supreme!  For us all!