Requiem for Red Poinsettias

by Michael Aurelio

The green leaves of our poinsettias are back.


The curious plant’s more predisposed color reluctantly began returning one leaf at a time shortly after Christmas Day. I had then thought in passing that that was less than what my mother had bargained for: she had purchased, with some degree of perceptible excitement, ten pots of the most promising (and thus more expensive) red poinsettias from an overpriced wayside garden shop in Tagaytay early last December.

However, what has been for me a little miracle every Christmas season—what with the magic that, without fail and always on schedule, leaves of an otherwise indiscernible plant turn rich red to announce and remind us the coming of what would be the greater miracle—has recently been an indicator of the brevity of our attention and a sign of the transience of happiness.

The red poinsettia’s phenomenal trans-coloration, which I had long ago decided to never Google why so as to guard the few things of which I am still in awe, formally commenced its reversal early this January on the way to its inevitable dis- or re-coloration. I think this time I know why.

Our poinsettias had accurately noticed that the praises we initially would throw on them became fewer and fewer by the end of December. Showing their sulky side and proving that plants have feelings too, they were also quick to point out that the gardener, who had faithfully and tediously propped them up before the night family and friends came in their new dresses to celebrate over wine and hams and cheeses the birth of the Christ, has as of late forgotten an alarming number of times to attend to their required daily allowance of water, sun and sky.

The poinsettias’ anxiety only became worse when they surmised (after patiently waiting for a reasonable amount of time, of course) that their tall mummified friend, which was brought down the basement after being unceremoniously undressed from its gown of sparkling lights and glistening gems and hastily chopped into three equally short pieces, was not coming back anytime soon.

After finding themselves dismissed out of the house (that was the last straw, all concurred), they continue to be snubbed by the stoical bonsai every morning and have been left with no choice but to entertain no longer guests bringing good cheer but the frequent complaints of the blades of grass which are too sensitive for their own good. The red poinsettias began to suspect the end was near: they were lined up against a wall a few days ago to join a rust-crusted trash bin and a worn-out wooden bench that only reminded them of the fate they shared with their once leafy brothers.

Afraid of attracting too much attention or be regarded as out of fashion or last year’s news, more and more green sprouts urgently push their way out of our poinsettias’ branches everyday. Meanwhile, the leaves which have turned dark magenta—once so red, so proud and so merry—in the same regularity disappear when no one would be looking and without even waving goodbye.

Notes from the End of Life as We Know It 3: The Cube

by Agustin Martin Rodriguez

I have a confession to make. Our department, an institution that we would like to think of as a center of teaching on social justice and environmental ethics, an institution working to place itself at the cutting edge of philosophizing on the environment and the roots of the environmental crisis, is in love with our cube.

What is our cube? It is a neatly constructed, metal and plastic coffee maker. Its lines are very neat and precise so it is like the iPod of coffee machines. What does it do? It makes coffee that is meant to wow even the most moderately trained, civilized, white or pseudo-white palates. I must say, it does make wonderful coffee. It is the kind of coffee that makes one want to rush to the office because it delivers a well-being inducing aroma and a full bouquet for your taste buds. The cube offers a complex and complete experience to your every sense involved with taste and wakefulness. This is why we love our cube.

This quality of coffee is produced by a very special process. Properly ground coffee is packed in pods made of pretty plastic and foil. It's like a little bullet of joy. We load the bullet into a chamber, close the chamber and almost instantly flows the light brown, bubbly liquid and the warm aroma of a cozy day. The cube allows us to access the joy of coffee with such a simple process: all you do is load a bullet and liquid comfort emerges. What does it cost? The cube and its coffee pods were a gift, but if we paid for our cube coffee, it would cost 50 pesos a hit. More than that, our coffee leaves a trail of spent pods that are not reusable or biodegradable if they are at all recyclable. When I brought up this fact over coffee, we joked that we could get the pods and make them into Christmas ornaments.


So here we are, professed lovers of the environment, believers in the need to reduce, recycle and reuse, shamelessly producing non-biodegradable waste only for coffee that could be made in a less costly way. But, some will say that it is the most wonderful coffee that we could have on a daily basis! Why deny ourselves this simple joy? Isn't it worth the cost? After all the higher things in life have a greater cost. These costs are just things we have to live with. Besides, how much of this wasted pods do we produce in a day? Ten or so? And we can't even afford to buy the pods ourselves so we only have it now and then when our pod patron donates them to us. But the point is this—the pod is a product of a lifestyle and mentality which is convinced that the best things in life are worth the cost on our environment and our fellow humans. Even if it's the only wasteful thing we do, it betrays a kind of mentality we have, i.e. we are willing to produce waste for our comfort and perhaps to be blind to the possible effects of the technology we use if its gift is pleasurable enough.

If one thinks about it deeply enough, the cube’s coffee may cost much. Aside from the waste it produces, the cube also calls its users to sustain a moderately high level of income. In order to use and sustain the operations of the cube, we have to earn enough to spend fifty pesos a day for coffee. Plus, we have to be the kind of people who occasionally go to Singapore to get the pods. That's actually why we just wait for the donations of our pod patron to be able to use the machine. Most of us have chosen vocations that do not support such an income. But what vocations do support such an income? Does one need to use casualized labor, suppress the incomes of others for one’s bonuses, or avoid taxes to earn this income? We also have to wonder if the coffee that goes into this pod is acquired justly. To produce it, are farmers exploited? And we have to ask how much carbon is emitted for the coffee to be planted and then brought to the processing plants and then to Singapore and then to us.

Coffee is a simple but intense pleasure—and the cube makes it simpler to acquire and more intensely pleasurable for us. But how simple is that pleasure, really? Don’t we know by now that something as simple as coffee drinking can have repercussions on our environment and the well-being of the vulnerable people in the world? It is a simple machinery of joy but symbols much of why we have come to the end of life as we know it.

For coffee lovers, not all coffee is coffee. They have a deep scorn for instant coffee, and demand freshly picked and freshly ground coffee. In order to obtain “real coffee,” their suppliers will scour the world, grow the coffee in various areas to get the best results, and perhaps pay the growers prices lower than the coffee will be worth. To get great coffee, we produce much carbon transporting, if not in growing, it. To enjoy this coffee, you have to have a lifestyle that supports it—moderately high incomes to buy the coffee and the paraphernalia, the food and utensils that enhance the coffee drinking pleasure. What do we do to the world and what do we do to our neighbors just to perk up our day? There are ways to enjoy the pleasures of coffee in a manner that is less costly but coffee lovers would like to have this kind of coffee and are willing to pay the cost for it. Why is this so?

I think it has much to do with our tendency to benchmark our level of civilization with the West. I think the fact that this coffee tastes so good to us is because we have been educated by Western palates to believe that this is the best coffee. Palates are educated after all. They are not just genetically determined but are educated to understand and believe what is flavorful and what is good. Barako coffee that is boiled in a pot could have been the height of coffee drinking pleasure if we were educated to taste that. If we conquered the world too we could have set the kettle boiled barako to be the world standard of gourmet coffee. But we didn't and it isn't. Those who did conquer the world set a costly standard of coffee to be the best. We the conquered bought into their standards and have become complicit in the coming of the end of life as we know it.

Again we see how patterning our lives after the highly civilized world is contributing to the end of the world as we know it. So we have to think about how to turn this habit of benchmarking around.

The so-called developing world functions well at a third of the cost of the so-called developed world. UCLA professor of geography, Jared Diamond, notes this:

The average rates at which people consume resources like oil and metals, and produce wastes like plastics and greenhouse gases, are about 32 times higher in North America, Western Europe, Japan and Australia than they are in the developing world. 


Or put another way:

The estimated one billion people who live in developed countries have a relative per capita consumption rate of 32. Most of the world’s other 5.5 billion people constitute the developing world, with relative per capita consumption rates below 32, mostly down toward 1.

Most of us prepare coffee without producing so much carbon and solid waste. Traditionally, the food we prepare comes without too much packaging and processing. Most of our produce comes fresh from local markets that source from local producers. We might not prepare the most sophisticated kinds of foods with the most cosmopolitan of ingredients but the food that we make has less of an impact on our world. Our impact on the world is still considerable mind you. We pour raw sewage into our waterways, we pollute our air with our fuel inefficient and excessive carbon producing vehicles, and we dump most of our solid waste in contaminating landfills. Plus our factories run without any form of environmental standards to regulate their pollution and we waste water as if it was abundant. However, in spite of this, we are still among those who are considerably less carbon polluting and resource consuming than the developed world.

The reason why we impact less on our world than the first-to-have-developed world is because our lifestyles in comparison are so simple. We don't have that much disposable income, we are not that technologically sophisticated, and we don't have easy access to resources, like electricity, that make it is easy for us to live resource hungry lifestyles. Since it isn't easy for us to waste, we don't do it as much. If we look at our traditional communities that are even less developed or civilized and sophisticated, they are living with even less impact on the world. However, they too are beginning to desire to live the civilized life like we do.

We truly need to rethink our lifestyles because if everyone wanted to live like Americans do, there is not enough world for it. There’s not even enough world to sustain European lifestyles which are considerably more considerate of the earth than the American way of being. And now that the world is warming, and we are faced with the catastrophic choices our resource hungry brothers have made, we have to rethink our pursuit of their life. We have to rethink our ways of making coffee, of transporting ourselves, and of earning a living because their ways have brought us to this. Maybe our ways can take us to our future. It is perhaps time to wake up and smell the barako brewing.

Timely Reflections in an Unexpected Context

by Pamela Joy Mariano

I am writing this in the pre-departure waiting area of NAIA Terminal 2, as I wait for my noon flight to Cagayan de Oro. In the seat directly behind me is a Muslim woman and her companion—their religious affiliations betrayed by the veil that she wears—and she is having an animated conversation in Bisaya with the women across from her, whom I assume are not Muslim. My guess, which is confirmed by the snatches of conversation I overhear, is that she is Maranao. After all, Cagayan de Oro's airport is about 30-40 minutes away from Iligan, Lanao del Norte, and the hills and lakes of Lanao are the homeland of the Maranao tribe, different from the Maguindanao who come from the plains of Cotabato.


It struck me at that moment—these women exemplify the plurality and diversity in Mindanao, and of the Philippines in general, the diversity of views, of religious affiliations, of tribal and regional affiliations and of language communities. A monolithic notion of “Filipino” and “Filipino identity” is impossible to formulate, and yet, that is what both the media and the government seem to project—that Filipino is a category easily defined and circumscribed.

Not unexpectedly, the women behind me are talking about politics in Mindanao, especially in ARMM. As I sat down a few minutes ago, I caught the tail-end of an exchange about the massacre, that I roughly translate here:

“It has nothing to do with religion, and all to do with politics.”

I don't listen to the rest of their conversation—it's impolite to eavesdrop—but I can't help catching snatches of their conversation, just words and phrases at random and out of context: private armies; automated elections; voting; names of presidential candidates.

It made me think of what the events in the small town of Ampatuan have to say to us, what it tells people who live their lives hundreds or thousands of kilometers away, but still exist within the same state. The inhumane killing of 57 people in Ampatuan tells us in the most glaring terms the tenuous nature of Philippine democracy. Despite the supposed democratic nature of our government as enshrined in our constitution, and in groundbreaking laws such as the LGU Act and the IPRA, the principles that these laws are rooted in are often not manifest in reality. The politics of impunity are still prevalent, cases of electoral violence still abound. We forget that the exercise of force and violence *are not exercises of power in politics*. Because of this, many of us feel helplesness and powerlessness.

But our felt helpessness in the face of the Ampatuan Massacre does not have to lead to powerlessness. Power is not a function of how much money you have, nor the size of your private army, nor the number of “influential” people you know. The nature of democracy, in an oversimplified sense, is that power originates in and from the people as a whole. This past week can be a way for us to remember what our democracy is realy supposed to be about—acknowledging that we are the ones who govern ourselves, that our voices are the the ones that should be heard. Part of this requires us to recognize that our country, our state, is one composed of a plurality of groups and affiliations, and how it is necessary for us to giving everyone proper representation and recognition. It is in our voices and thoughts and acts that power resides.

If there is anything positive that we can gain from the heinous massacre of 57 people in Maguindanao, it is the reminder of who we are as a political community, as the democratic state called the Philippines. Our collective revulsion at the heinous acts are reminders of our commitment to respecting and honoring the dignity of every human being; our unorchestrated and yet collective outrage at the massacre is a reminder of our unity in the midst of plurality, that unity need not be confused with conformity nor uniformity; our collective efforts to spread the word and make sure that other Filipinos are well-informed about these events in Maguindanao is a reminder of our commitment to personal participation in holding our public servants accountable to us. All of these are principles that our democracy is based on.

When I first heard the news of what is now called the Ampatuan Massacre, I posted as a status update on my Facebook the following question: “How can I continue to read a [philosophy] book about cosmopolitanism in the face of such heinous acts?” Here too the women seated behind me in the airport again have something to teach me. These women were complete strangers prior to their striking up a conversation with each other while waiting for the airplane to leave. Their new acquaintance, conversation, and even friendship began simply on the basis of a common context—the predeparture area of the airport, the same flight, and a common destination—Cagayan de Oro. The commonality of their context does not erase the fact of their difference, but makes it possible for them to share themselves in each other. It makes it all the more important, then, for us to study—and not just intellectually, but in praxis—things like cosmopolitanism. The possibility of friendship and conversation, recognizing difference, initiating dialogue, and promoting peace happens also on all levels, including the level of theory.

Statement on Proclamation 1959 from Individual Members of the Philosophy Department of the Ateneo

We share in the nation's collective disgust and outrage as the massacre in Ampatuan, Maguindanao was brought to light. We grieve together with the victims' families, and stand with the ordinary citizens of Maguindanao who have been treated as vassals and slaves by warlords who forget that they live in a democratic state. We, too, share in the nation's collective dismay at the growing evidence of a continuing politics of impunity in Maguindanao.

However, we question the necessity and legality of the government's declaration of Martial Law and subsequent military rule in Maguindanao. The Constitution's provisions allow for the state of Martial Law to be declared only when there is an actual rebellion or invasion that endangers the safety of the public. While we acknowledge that government functions in the province of Maguindanao have been weakened, we question whether this constitutes one of these limit cases.

In the absence of strong evidence for an actual rebellion in Maguindanao, we fear the declaration may set a dangerous precedent that could open the door to unrestricted power and abuse. That the Ampatuan massacre happened at all reveals the weakness of the state and the disregard that our own leaders and peacekeepers have for the rule of law. The continuation of Martial Law in Maguindanao based on shaky grounds does not strengthen the state; it cripples the state further. Instead of countering the politics of impunity with showing that our democratic systems can and do work for the good of the people, the government has chosen to fight impunity with impunity, violence with violence.

The Constitution provides safeguards to prevent the arbitrary use of emergency powers. Our institutions tasked with the constitutional safeguards against the potential tyranny of Martial Law are being challenged by our circumstances to fulfill their tasks as true servants of our Constitution.

We demand that Congress fulfill its responsibility to review the proclamation and revoke it if necessary. Already late, the Congress should do its constitutional duty and convene itself. We hope that in such a time as this, this Congress can act with good judgment on the matter. But if they cannot act as disinterested representatives of the people who have their constituents' welfare in mind, then they should remember that they are up for re-election and, judging from the surveys, the people are less tolerant of those who have blatantly subverted our systems for their own gain. In May, the people will speak and their almost decade long governance of impunity and continuous machinations of power will come to an end.

We ask the Supreme Court to act swiftly and justly in the resolution of any proceeding that will most certainly be filed with regard to this issue. The high court has a chance to prove its critics wrong, and show once again that a GMA appointed court can decide independently on matters of vital national importance.

Most of all, we ask the military to realize its duty as protectors of the people and defenders of the constitution. May they courageously stand by their professionalism and not allow themselves to be used by people who have questionable agenda.

We realize that many people might agree with the President's extraordinary declaration of martial law to resolve the problem in Maguindanao. But we have to remember that we would not have come to this situation if we had institutions that functioned to safeguard the people's welfare. So we should not exacerbate the problem by overriding our constitutional and legal processes.

We ask, then, that the lawlessness of the Ampatuan Massacre be countered by the lawfulness of our institutions, so that our faith in Constitutional processes and democratic systems can be restored. Lawless acts of evil can only be contained by lawful institutions that work.



Signed,

Individual Members of the Department of Philosophy, Ateneo de Manila
University

Antonette Angeles
Michael Aurelio
Remmon Barbaza
Oscar Bulaong, Jr.
Mark Joseph Calano
Sircio Chan
Manuel Dy, Jr.
Geoffrey Guevara
Jacqueline Jacinto
Michael Ner Mariano
Pamela Joy Mariano
Jovino Miroy
Rowena Azada-Palacios
Agustin Martin Rodriguez
Jomel Santos
Andrew Soh
Eileen Tupaz
John Carlo P. Uy

Mangu-danao Massacre

by Agustin Martin Rodriguez

When my son had his first nightmare and woke up crying, he told me that he had dreamt that monsters ate his mother. I tried to comfort him by telling him that there were no monsters in the real world—only on the computer and on TV where he saw these things. What a lie indeed, for just a few days ago on TV, we were shown the works of monsters in the real world.

Then, we were told that 21 bodies had been found—many of whom were women that were believe to have been raped. Today there is a running body count of 57—many of whom are women said to have been raped and horribly mutilated, journalists, activist lawyers, and motorists who just happened to be in the way.

*Bong Reblando

Manila Bulletin reporter

How could anyone who was not murderously insane order or commit such an act? How depraved and inhuman do you have to be to be able to carry out such a massacre? But of course there are naïve questions from a comfortable middle-aged professor from Quezon City. Who am I to say what unchecked power can do to the soul of a man and a family? Who am I to say what being without prospects except the service of a power hungry tyrant can make one do? Who am I to say what is shocking in Maguindanao where people are kept poor and without development while one family controls all the resources and political power and the national government supports and funds that family’s private army? I really can’t say. I don’t know what it’s like and what I would do if I had so much deadly power or what I might be driven to do if I was the hired gun of such powers. I wouldn’t know how my mind or heart could be unhinged living under those circumstances.

But this I know. Even if I were a powerful man with an army of drug crazed, or fanatical, or power tripping men, I would not be able to act with such impunity if I knew that there was a higher power to stop me from my acts of madness. But these monsters from Maguindanao felt they could do what they wanted without fear perhaps because they were banking on the fact that in this country, politics is still mightier a force than justice. This is the state after all where journalists and activists have been killed without consequence to their killers. Uniformed sociopaths who kidnap and torture farmers and students working for change are still enjoying their freedom while many of their victims are rotting, still unidentified in unmarked graves or trying to live past the horror of their real life nightmare.

If we had a government that could only genuinely function to protect and serve its people, we wouldn’t have any monsters in the real world. But we don’t yet have such a government. Seventy four journalists have been killed and hundreds of activists have also been killed, tortured or kidnapped in the last eight years. There have hardly been any convictions for these cases—not even the celebrated ones like that of Jonas Burgos. Governments were founded to keep the monsters among us in check—not to use them against its citizens.

Sadly for those children of the massacred in Magundanao, our government and political system failed to stop the monsters from killing their mothers.

Si Pacman at ang Matamis na Agham

ni Michael G. Aurelio

Bakit mahilig ang Pilipino sa boksing?

Dahil magaling tayo sa boksing. Nariyan sina Gabriel “Flash” Elorde, Pancho Villa, Luisito Espinosa, Rolando Navarette at ang kasalukuyang pound-for-pound king na si Manny “Pacman” Pacquiao—mga patunay sa husay at galing ng Pilipino sa isang larong habang napakahirap at napakadugo, tila napakasimple pa rin at napakatamis.

Simple ang boksing. Kailangan mo lamang ng dalawang magkalaban at hayaan mo silang magsuntukan. At suntukan lang naman talaga ang diwa ng boksing: wala nang kailangan pang mga salita, at wala nang ibang layunin kundi patumbahin ang kalaban sa pamamagitan ng ating pangunahing sandata, ang mga kamaong biglang nakakasa. Pinakamadaling paraan ang suntukan upang tapusin ang anumang away. Kaya may mga nagsusuntukan sa klase o sa kalye, sa pihitan o sa Emba, tungkol sa dignidad man o babae. “Mano mano,” “square tayo,” “nang magkaalaman na tayo.” Hindi naman siguro tayo madalas makarinig ng dalawang nagkainitan na maghahanap pa ng espada para malaman kung sino ang mas magiting o chess board kung sino ang mas matalino’t malalim.

Kapag dumating na sa suntukan, walang duda, lalaban at hindi tatakbo ang Pilipino. Ngunit hindi naman ito dahil sa marahas tayo; alam ng lahat na tayo’y sa kalikasan ay marahan at mapagpasensya, mapayapa at palangiti pa—kahit pa iniisahan na, kahit nga inaabuso na. Magaling ang Pilipino sa boksing dahil magaling din tayong makipagbunuan sa isa pang napakahirap sabay napakasimpleng labanan na sa buhay naman tinatanghal.

* * *

Inilahad sa Time Magazine (“The Meaning of Manny” noong ika-16 ng Nobyembre 2009) ang ilang bahagi ng makulay na talambuhay ni Manny. Ayon sa sanaysay ni Howard Chua-Eoan at Ishaan Thardoor, isinasakatawan ni Pacquiao ang pinanggagalingan at—mas mahalaga—mga pangarap ng karamihan nating mga Pilipino.

Lumaki si Pacquiao sa hirap. Tindera ng gulay at manggagawa sa pabrika noon ang kanyang ina na si Dionisia. Nahirapan buhayin ng ina ang kanyang anim na anak. Upang tumulong pakainin ang kanyang mga kapatid, tumigil sa pag-aaral si Manny noong siya’y katorse. Tapos gumawa siya ng isang plano: lilisan siya ng General Santos at makikipagsapalaran sa Maynila, gaya ng di mabilang na mga Pilipino sa probinsya na naghahanap din ng mas magandang kapalaran.

Dahil alam niyang wala siyang ibang alam at hilig kundi boksing—lumalaban na siya noon sa Gen San at kung manalo’y kumikita ng isang daan—naghanap si Pacquiao ng iba’t ibang pagkakataon upang lumaban pagkatapos niyang subukan maging manggagawa. Nagsimula siyang lumahok sa mga palaro sa baranggay (ilegal pa nga raw, parang sabong na walang permiso). Ngunit dahil malinaw sa kanya kung bakit siya pumunta ng Maynila, pagkatapos ng higit-kumulang tatlong taon naging propesyunal na boksingero si Manny.

Sa kanyang unang laban na ipinalabas sa programang Blow by Blow sa telebisyon noong 1995, ipinakita na ng labimpitong gulang na kaliwete ang lakas ng kanyang suntok at bilis ng mga kamay—ang kanyang magiging mga pangunahing sandata na gagamitin laban sa mga mas malalaking boksingero na kanyang haharapin. Nasungkit ng baguhan ang una niyang panalo sa pamamagitan ng isang desisyon. Mula noon tutumba na ang karamihan sa mga makakalaban ni Pacquiao (50 panalo–3 talo–2 tabla–38 pinatumba).

Habang kapansin-pansin noong simula pa lamang ang mga likas na talento ni Manny, nahalata rin ng marami na wala siyang gaanong teknik o depensa kaya naman madalas rin siya kung tamaan. Magiging mahalaga sa pagpapatalas ng galing at pag-usbong ng kanyang karera ang gabay at tiwala na ibibigay ni Freddie Roach sa 2001. Pagkatapos lamang ng isang oras ng ensayo kasama si Manny sa una nilang pagkikita, pumayag si Roach na maging tagapagsanay ng boksingero na nais pang matuto.

Sa tulong ni Roach, mabubuksan ang mga pinto para kay Pacquiao sa darating na mga taon. Kanyang makakaharap ang ilan sa pinakatanyag na mga pangalan sa daigdig ng boksing. Makakalaban niya mula 2003 sila Marco Antonio Barrera, Erik Morales, Juan Manuel Marquez, Oscar De La Hoya, Ricky Hatton at Miguel Cotto—at lahat ay papanalunin niya maliban sa isang hindi malilimutang pagtatagpo nila ni Morales noong 2005. Sa huling laban niya kay Cotto, tumimbang ng 147 libra si Pacquiao—mga 40 na libra lagpas sa timbang niyo noong una siyang naging propesyunal. Si Pacquiao ngayon ang tanging boksingero sa kasaysayan na nagkamit ng pitong kampeonato sa kasingdaming weight class.

Ang palangiting boksingero na dati’y natutulog sa kahong de karton sa mga lansangan ng Maynila ay nag-uwi ng humigit-kumulang P2.5 bilyon mula sa tatlo niyang huling laban. Nagpahayag na rin ang pambansang kamao na siya’y tatakbo bilang kinatawan ng Sarangani sa darating na pambansang eleksyon upang subukan sa labas ng ring ang kanyang tapang at galing. Artista na rin pala si Mommy Dionisia.

* * *

Isang maliit na puwang lamang ang kailangan upang makalusot ang isang suntok. Isang pagkakataon lamang ang kailangan ng karamihan nating kababayan upang makaahon sa kahirapan. Isang dumadagundong na sapok lamang ang kailangan upang patumbahin ang kalaban. Isang tahimik na pagpapakita lamang ng kabutihan ang kailangan upang maparamdam sa mga nangangailangan na hindi pa rin naman natin sila iiwan. Isang laban ni Pacman lamang ang kailangan upang ipakita na kayang maghari ng Pilipino sa daigdig. Isang laban lamang ni Pacman ang kailangan upang maghari ang kapayapaan sa kapuluan kahit sandali.

Kung si Pacman nga ang tumatayo para sa ordinaryong Pilipino, hindi ordinaryo ang Pilipino kung sa gayon. Bagaman maaari nga tayong mabulol sa Ingles, sa sipag, abilidad at tiyaga naman natin malinaw na naipapahayag kung sino tayo sa mga banyaga. Bagaman maaari nga tayong masilaw sa salapi o katanyagan o kapangyarihan, alalahaning nanggagaling naman kasi tayo sa wala, at ang kayamanan lamang naman natin ay mga pangarap sa simula. Bagaman maaaring marami sa atin ang hindi nakapagtatapos, tandaan na hindi sumusuko ang Pilipino hanggang hindi naririnig ang batingaw sa katapusan.

Ang kakayahang maging malakas ang kalooban at manatiling matibay ang pananampalataya sa gitna ng mga bagyo ng suntok at sapok na itinatapon sa atin ng buhay ay lagpas sa anumang makamundong kaalaman o agham. “Hindi ako bobo,” ilang ulit na sinabi ni Pacman sa kanyang panayam sa Time. Dahil kapag dumating na sa matamis na agham ng boksing o sa mapait na laban ng buhay Pacman knows.

Notes from the End of Life as We Know It 2: Bench Marking

by Agustin Martin Rodriguez

When our history comes to the end of life as we know it, we have to begin to imagine life as it could be. But here we are and still we dream the dreams that brought us to the end of life as we know it.

We are at the end of the world defined by our colonizers. The dream of building a better world through conquest and consumption, mass production and massive waste creation, is coming to a point where it is getting almost impossible to deny that this path we are on is a dead end, and yet we insist on charting our course of national development by the markers of prosperity and development laid by Western rationalities.


Ever since our hearts and minds were conquered by the West, we have always marked our progress as a people by how we fare in comparison with them, more specifically the US. Ironically, in the last couple of decades, the more progressive among our leaders have began to figure out ways to benchmark ourselves among the more successful of our neighbors who were able to emulate the West and realize Western style development. We send out teachers to Singapore, for instance, to be able to learn how to teach our children to do math and science better. We send our scholars to Western nations to learn their ways of scholarship, scientific inquiry, and their skills. We mark our wisdom by how much we are accepted by their journals and their conferences.

This desire to learn from and become like the past colonial masters is very understandable. For the last 400 years, we were taught that those who insisted on living according to their indigenous wisdom and lifeways, those who wished to live the good life as defined by their native rationalities, were deprived of the ability to flourish as human beings. This is always the story of indigenous communities: a community flourishes in simplicity according to their traditional lifeways, an alien population comes to own their land and their resources in order to commodify these and bring them into the world economic order of continuous and growing consumption, and before they realize that they are poor, they have been alienated from the material ground of their human flourishing. The natives always try to avoid usurpation by the alien invaders by moving to the hinterlands but the ever expanding consumption machine follows them wherever they go until they are enlisted themselves into the alien system because the land and waters from which they drew life freely is no longer theirs to draw from. They can no longer draw life from the land because their ways are made useless in the new systems, and, even if they do not want to live according to what is imposed, they have to in order to simply live.

Having been recruited into the dominant economic and political system but not fully educated as effective or equal players in it, they are exploited by traders and entrepreneurs, industrialists and men of power who own the system as their tool for self propagation. These natives became the marginalized of our country. Our nation and all colonized nations with “low” levels of scientific and technological development, in short all nations colonized by the West that were not oriented toward western means of development and growth, suffer the same fate as indigenous people. As marginalized nations, we began with low levels of development and technology because our ethos was simply oriented towards different conceptions of a good human life. If we were inclined to build empires of consumption and conquest, I am sure our civilizations would have found their own way into building war machines and industries of mass production. But we didn’t, but neither did we have the chance to discover the flourishing of our inclinations because the Western ways were imposed upon us. So here we are, the pauper nations condemned to dream the western dreaming just to survive. The hopeful ones among us still believe that if we can learn this game well we will be able to win at it and become as progressive as the rich nations. However, I am not so optimistic about this because the game has already been at play for so long according to a paradigm of play that favors the exploiters and crushes the exploited that the game has to change in order for it to be fruitful for us. And so we have to learn to stop benchmarking by their standards and to begin to rethink the meaning of development for the good of our selves.

By benchmarking our civilizations with theirs, we dig ourselves deeper into perdition. Ever since the West involved us in their economic systems and their systems of trade, we have always had to pay for their excesses. We are poor in the not-genuinely-developing-world, or what they used to call the Third World and what they now ironically call the developing world, because they involved us in an economic system that was set up to serve their interests according to their needs. In this way, they sucked us into a vortex of exploitation which in many imaginative ways rendered us inutile to realize our preferred life ways. They barred us from living life what we knew to be a good life and forced us to buy into their dream of development so that they could draw on our resources to our detriment, and then sell us back their products to our perdition. But that’s really not the worst thing the West has done to the victims of their exploitation. The terrible truth about this whole story of exploitation is that the whole time it was flourishing, we were always at the losing side, and now that it is collapsing, we are going to have to pay for its excesses.

Our time is facing the end of life and the world as they have made it. Climate change and the end of the age of petroleum signal that. Our environment is changing and becoming less hospitable if not harsher. Many of our homes will be swallowed by the sea, our populations will be displaced and much diminished, and food and water will be harder to come by. Those who will pay most for these changes are those who were exploited by the system that brought these changes about, i.e. the global poor. Much of what is known as the global south will starve, drown, thirst, or freeze because their already hand to mouth resources will not allow them to prepare for and creatively meet the coming challenges. And so, having been unwittingly complicit in building this system that made our world more dangerous for us, we will suffer the consequences of this complicity without really having enjoyed whatever good it brought.

And yet, we still benchmark our progress and development on the systems of the West that brought us to where we are. We still insist on measuring our accomplishments against their accomplishments knowing that these accomplishments were founded on systems of valuation that allowed for the blind exploitation of this world that was so good to us. Why, I wonder, after all that this model of development and growth has done for us, do we not look for other benchmarks of genuine civilization? Or why have we not looked at our selves as a possible benchmark for their civilizations?