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Something I discovered while searching through my old files stored in Google docs. I haven't posted here in a while, so I might as well post this. Enjoy.
Remember Jonah?, I asked her. She was by the trash bin, dropping off our baby’s soiled diaper. Uhm, she replied.
From the org? I ran into him this afternoon. He was in a really bad way.
Almario? He looked ok when I left the office.
Not Jonas. Jonah. Jonah Samson. From our org. The one with that insane crush on Mileth that we all made fun of.
I glanced at her. She was now arranging pillowcases into a pile, quite intent in making neat folds.
If I meant Jonas Almario, I wouldn’t have asked you, ‘Remember Jonas?’ You see him every day.
I don’t remember a Jonah, she finally responded in point.
How could you not…
And I remember everybody from the org. Even those you never spoke to.
Jonah, Jonah Samson. Thin guy, black plastic glasses, spiked hair. Had a huge crush on Mileth. Part of the Counterstrike gang.
Wait, I'm brushing my teeth.
I turned on the television, depressed the mute button. "Arvin, oh Arvin. Thank you man, thank you pare. Am I so glad to see you”, Jonah had said to me, during our chance encounter at the grocery beside the gas station. He was near tears. He was hugging me, very very tight. We had never hugged before, and I doubt if we had even ever shaken hands. We were not close, and I had not seen him since college. He was in what I supposed was office attire, but his clothes were dirt-stained and obviously unpressed in days. They also smelled the journey through kilometers of smog.
Karl, Joey, Iggy, Socrates and Cher. That was your Counterstrike gang.
And Jonah! I felt my blood surge, envigorated by the mystery of the amnesiac wife.
There was no Jonah! In terms that said this was her final answer. Did you go out and finally have your first ever drink? Without me?! She laughed, but briefly. My dad used to go home drunk every night and things got ugly. Long story, but irrelevant for now.
This is weird.
What's weird? That I don’t remember someone who doesn’t exist?
I saw him earlier this evening. At the StarMart, as I was headed home from my jog. I was paying for some water when Jonah comes running in screaming “Arvin, remember me? Do you know who I am?” Sure, I say, and he starts hugging me. Said he saw me from the road entering the store, and he ran over to meet me. Thank you, thank you, he says. The whole scene, freaked me out big time. We were never that close, never called him at home, never had classes together, I only saw him at the tambayan.
Maybe this Jonah, you’re mistaking him for someone else, someone whom I’ve never met. A high school classmate.
No. He’s from our org. Even told me himself, “Arvin, from Arki Society?! Counterstrike?!”
I noticed that she had settled in bed.
I really don’t know what to say. I have no idea who this Jonah is. What do you want me to say?
Her question left me in momentary pause. I’ll finish my story, maybe it'll come back to you as I go along.
Ok.
So there was Jonah, all hugging and shouting "Arvin, Arvin!". I glanced at the cashier, and she looked like she was about to laugh. I was embarrassed, didn’t want to get into any small talk, so I told Jonah I had to get going, running late for an appointment. He screamed No! No!, but somewhat calmed down after I apologized for having to go. He asked me again if I really remembered him, I said yes. He asked for my calling card but I didn’t have one on me. He then asked if I had a cellphone, saying that it was really really important that he have my number and he’d explain why and why he was acting really weird next time we talked. He looked as if he was about to cry, and I felt sorry for the bastard. I gave him my number, he borrowed a pen from the cashier, asked her for a used receipt where he wrote my number down. I then told him I had to go, and I jogged out of there as fast as I could.
This Jonah of yours sounds really crazy.
He was weird, back when. But not this class of weird. I knew him...we knew him as the silent shy type, somewhat boring except when it came to Mileth, not even very good at Counterstrike…You still don’t remember, do you?
Nope.
The story’s not over. So I end up jogging around for another thirty minutes or so, to make sure he had left the StarMart, then I return and asked the cashier if she had seen him before. She told me he had shown up in the area a few hours earlier and was begging from drivers filling up gas. The station attendants shooed him away, so he went out to the street, begging. And his clothes were nearly tattered, but, long sleeves and slacks. The cashier also told me that after I left, he asked her if she knew where I lived, and she told him, no.
She sat up. Well, whoever this Jonah is, I don’t want him near our house. And why did you give him your cell number?
I felt really sorry for him, Sheila hon, he really looked like he needed a lot of help.
If he calls you up, maybe we should call the police.
Hon, he’s our friend.
Your friend. I do not know any Jonah.
Back to Mystery Square Number One.
Mileth would know. She didn’t like him because of the weird crush thing, but she would know.
Don’t bother her. It’s late, and she has a lower tolerance for foolishness than I. Get to bed. Maybe when you wake up, you too will forget who this Jonah is.
I was agreeable to the prospect of forgetting all about Jonah. Still, I was disappointed in her, for failing to appreciate the gravity of the truth that had hugged into me earlier in the day. Maybe I’d forget about that too the next day.
I slept well through the night, and when I awoke, the first memory that flashed was Jonah near tears. She was already up, cradling our sleeping baby. I kissed first mother, then child. I then reached over for the milk and oats while she hummed tunelessly.
You must be asking, I said after a silent awhile. Jonah-StarMart-Counterstrike. She sighed, probably in disgust. Don’t worry, not another word about Jonah.
Ever?
My turn to sigh. Maybe. Why not? Ok, ever.
Tell me if he calls though. I might even speak to this Jonah.
I said nothing more. I finished breakfast, drove to work. Google revealed no Jonah Samson outside the Old Testament setting. I dawdled beside blueprints, then at around two, called Mileth.
After pleasantries, Remember Jonah? Jonah Samson?
Who? My heart sank. After all, I had nominated Mileth as sanity’s arbiter. Still, I went through the song and dance.
If this Jonah did give me a perfumed sock stuffed with holens because I once mentioned that I missed playing marbles, shouldn't I definitely remember him?... Is there anything else you need? This is getting too weird for me, and I just came back stressed from my OB-Gyne.
Sheila called around two hours later. Mileth called. I told you not to bother her. Don’t you know she’s going through another difficult pregnancy? I started to say “sorry”, but held back when I realized I was not talking to Mileth.
Sorry hon, I just couldn't...
So you trust her more than you trust me? Another long but irrelevant story.
I just had to know. Had to make sure.
Well, after Mileth called, I called Angela, I called Mina, I called Jake. I even bothered to ask Jake for Socrates' phone number. Socrates, from your Counterstrike gang. I could almost feel her air quotes brush up and down my cheeks. Guess what? None of them knows who the fuck is Jonah.
I wasn't surprised to hear that, but it still had shock value. I was not planning on calling any of them, hon.
Just Mileth, I see. Anyway, just in case you got tempted, I called them all up for you. Do you want me to call Jonah’s parents, whoever the hell they may be?
I had no clue too, having never asked Jonah about his family. I might have assumed they hailed from the province, but nothing had ever happend to arouse any curiosity about Jonah's parents. It was useless to enrich my conversation with Sheila with this context, so I just stared into the screensaver.
I’ll never bring it up again.
Good. I was hoping that she too was staring into her screensaver.
Anything else? I guessed she wanted me to say sorry. Not yet. I’ll be home the usual time. I'll buy the formula on my way. There was too long a pause, then, Ok, thank you.
That evening, I was back at the Star Mart. Jonah wasn’t there. Neither did they carry baby formula. The same cashier from the day before was manning the till. Her nameplate, then and today, read Bongkie.
You remember me from yesterday?
Yes, Sir Arvin, right?
How did you know my name?
That weird man kept on repeating it yesterday. Arvin, Arvin, Arvin.
So you do remember him.
Of course, who wouldn't? Don't remember his name though.
I quickly replayed the encounter from memory. I myself had not bothered then to utter Jonah's name out loud, and neither did Jonah. He knew I knew his name.
His clothes were dirty and he hugged me, right?
Yes sir. He even borrowed a pen from me.
Yes, yes… yes.
And after you left, sir, he asked me if I knew where you lived…
Yes yes, and you told me so after I returned yesterday…
Yes sir.
I surprised myself by bursting into tears. Nothing fulsome, but there was a crack on the floodgate. Bongkie stepped back. I caught myself mid-sniffle and recomposed.
Sorry about that, Bongkie. It’s been a really strange day. That man – his name is Jonah – he was my friend, I haven’t seen in a long time. But none of our other friends, even my own wife Sheila, remembers who he was. I told Bongkie about the argument with Sheila, the awkwardness with Mileth, and also about Angela and Mina and Jake and even Socrates. Since there were no other customers in the store, I felt no pressure to rush the telling of my story.
Wow, said Bongkie. But I do remember seeing you and your friend here yesterday. Maybe, maybe sir you can bring your wife here and I can tell her everything that I saw.
I studied Bongkie’s proposal. Ultimately, all she could swear by to Sheila was that a strange man approached me the day before, a man whose name she did not know until I told her just moments before.
Thanks, but it won’t help. You wouldn’t be able to tell her that you knew our friend Jonah…my friend Jonah.
Ok no problem sir. So, you and Jonah were close?
Actually no. We belonged to the same organization in college, played the same computer game, but other than that, we had nothing in common. Come to think of it, I don’t think I really thought of him as my friend. At least not until all this.
It's strange that you’re the only one who remembers him.
Very… Are you sure you believe me? That I have this friend named Jonah, whom you saw yesterday, and whom nobody else remembers?
Why won’t I believe you? Why would you bother lying to me, a very complicated lie at that. Besides, the way he reacted yesterday, maybe, he too knows you are the only one who remembers him, that’s why he was so glad to see you.
Maybe. Probably. God knows why.
He’ll probably explain once he calls you.
If he calls.
He’ll call you. You’re the only friend he’s got. As soon as he is able to earn enough from begging to buy a cellphone. Bongkie laughed, and I joined in. I was wondering though if by this time, Jonah had not already been run over by a ten-wheeler truck.
I'm glad we got to talk, Bongkie. To know that someone else was sharing in my truth, even if it were just in my present truth and not that of the past. There was still an hour left before the drugstore where I usually bought the infant formula was to close. I think I'll have some coffee.
...I made the decision during Pacman's glorious evisceration of Miguel Cotto that he finally had reached the exalted "I Don't Care Who You Are Fighting, I Am Watching It Live & That's That" status, which puts him in the following company: Ali, Sugar Ray Leonard, Tyson. My own personal Mount Rushmore. Pacquiao hit Tiger/Federer status about a year ago, and nobody cared. That's why he needs the Mayweather fight so badly. We've seen dominant pound-for-pound guys these past two decades, but nobody with finishing power anything like what Pacman has. He's like a coked-up Aaron Pryor, only without the coke. Insane. If he's fighting, I am watching.
Our landmark ruling in Estrada v. Escritor emphasizes that in determining whether the acts complained of constitute "disgraceful and immoral behavior" under the Civil Service Laws, the distinction between public and secular morality on the one hand, and religious morality, on the other should be kept in mind. The distinction between public and secular morality as expressed—albeit not exclusively—in the law, on the one hand, and religious morality, on the other, is important because the jurisdiction of the Court extends only to public and secular morality. Thus, government action, including its proscription of immorality as expressed in criminal law like concubinage, must have a secular purpose.[A]ny judicial pronouncement that an activity constitutes "disgraceful and immoral" behavior under the contemplation of the Civil Service law must satisfy the test that such conduct is regulated on account of the concerns of public and secular morality. Such judicial declarations cannot be mere effectuations of personal bias, notably those colored by particular religious mores. Nor would the demand be satisfied by the haphazard invocation of "cultural" values, without a convincing demonstration that these cultural biases have since been recognized and given accord within the realm of public policy. The Constitution and the statutes of the land would serve as especially authoritative sources of recognition, since they are irrefutable as to what the public policy is. At the same time, the constitutional protections afforded under the Bill of Rights should be observed, to the extent that they protect behavior that may be frowned upon by the majority.
Quoting verbatim from the message I received:
The Silver Jubilarian Class of 1984 is inviting fellow alumni to the 2009 U.P. Law Grand Alumni Homecoming to be held on Thursday, 19 November 2009, at the Rizal Ballroom of the Makati Shangri-La Hotel, Ayala Center, Makati City. Registration will start at 6:00 p.m.
Class 84 is exerting every effort to make this a truly memorable evening of warmth and laughter. There will be an exhibit of paintings of U.P. Law alumni by Atty. Antonio “Tony” M. Meer, U.P. Law Class 1950 (cum laude) and Chairman Emeritus of the U.P. Law Alumni Association, Inc. In addition, Class 84 is also publishing a commemorative book, to be named “Malcolm”, which will be distributed at the Alumni Homecoming.
The evening’s guest of honor will be our beloved Professor Araceli T. Baviera. Dean Marvic M.V.F. Leonen will officially launch the run-up to the Centennial Celebration of the U.P. College of Law in 2011. He will briefly present to the U.P. Law Alumni the Centennial Projects which are now in the pipe line. The master of ceremonies will be the very talented Mr. Willie Nepomuceno.
The short program will also feature the Golden Jubilarian Class of 1959, followed by music and dancing with the Spirit of ’67 and the Brass Munkeys.
Tickets cost PHP 2,000, inclusive of dinner and entertainment, and can be purchased from the Dean’s Office at the UP College of Law.
Section 8. System of Continuing Registration of Voters. The personal filing of application of registration of voters shall be conducted daily in the office of the Election Officer during regular office hours. No registration shall, however, be conducted during the period starting one hundred twenty (120) days before a regular election and ninety (90) days before a special election.
Section 45. Election Offenses. - The following shall be considered election offenses under this Act: xxxj) Violation of the provisions of this Act.
As structured, Section 45 of Republic Act No. 8189 makes a recital of election offenses under the same Act. Section 45(j) is, without doubt, crystal in its specification that a violation of any of the provisions of Republic Act No. 8189 is an election offense. The language of Section 45(j) is precise. The challenged provision renders itself to no other interpretation. A reading of the challenged provision involves no guesswork. We do not see herein an uncertainty that makes the same vague. (emphasis supplied)
The aftermath of Typhoon Ondoy ("Ketsana") saw an extraordinary demonstration of the charitable spirit of Pinoys around the world. Few hesitated to dole out donations in cash or kind, many others sacrificed time off their school or professional lives to volunteer in relief centers. The sort of exhibition that evokes genuine pride in what we can accomplish as a society. However, just as life was seemingly settling back to normal, the dire news started to trickle down from Northern Luzon. Typhoon Pepeng ("Parma"), which had frazzled Metro Manila into a state of mild panic last October 2 before veering north, had apparently left a toll more severe and comprehensive than Ondoy. Even more homes were damaged, more families forced to resettle in evacuation centers, more people were killed.
It is reported that 2 more tropical depressions are feared to hit the Philippines this week. Via Facebook, I came across this Note written by Inday Espina-Varona, relaying a message from Yvette Lee. Due to the urgency of the warning, I'm reposting the Note in its entirety (with apologies) so that the proper caution and preparation can be had by as many people as possible.
Yvette Lee, a veteran diver, and the friend I rely on for weather forecasts, has never been wrong yet about which way the wind blows (or how much rain will fall). Many times, she has told me to disregard Pag-asa because various other satellites, including those used by the US military, are showing different storm tracks. On Friday, she said winds would be light but waters very heavy and to prepare for serious floods.Let's hope if the worst does come, we are utterly prepared.
Tonight, with some urgency, she asked me to contact Gibo, if I could. I've texted her message en toto to a defense reporter, but am posting it here anyway in the hope someone who does know Gibo or the AFP Chief or some such top gun can relay it. They may know what Yvette knows already but she is worried due to the absence of clear-cut warnings on TV and radio news. She would post here but has no Internet access at the moment. I'm tagging as many people I know that cover Crame and Aguinaldo (or who are there, thus the soldiers). Perhaps, other media people can check with their own sources and issue warnings that people can heed.
Here's her message:
IF YOU HAVE CONTACT NUMBER OF GIBO YOU BETTER LET HIM KNOW TO EXPECT RAINS AGAIN BEGINNING TOMORROW. BAKA KALA NILA WALA NA TYPHOON WALA NANG RAIN. THE WEATHER SATELLITES SHOW RAIN COMING IN FROM THE EAST FOR 2 DAYS AT LEAST.
THEY SHOULD ASK THE PEOPLE WHO WERE STANDING ON ROOFS AND WHO WENT BACK INSIDE, TO LEAVE TILL WATER GOES DOWN TO NORMAL BECAUSE THE WATER WILL RISE VERY FAST AGAIN WHEN IT STARTS RAINING...
Account Name: The Phil. Nat’l. Red CrossMETROBANKPort Area BranchPeso Acct.: 151-3-041-63122-8Dollar Acct.: 151-2-151-00218-2Type of Acct. : SAVINGSSwift Code: MBTC PH MMBANK OF THE PHIL. ISLANDSPort Area BranchPeso Acct.: 4991-0010-99Type of Account: CURRENTBANK OF THE PHIL. ISLANDSUN BranchDollar Acct.: 8114-0030-94Type of Account: SAVINGSSwift Code: BOPI PH MMFor your donations to be properly acknowledged, please fax the banktransaction slip at nos. +63.2.527.0575 or +63.2.404.0979 with yourname, address and contact number.Credit CardPlease fax the following info to +632.404.09.79 and +632.527.0575:Name of card member, billing address, contact nos. (phone &mobile), credit card no., expiration date, CCV2/ CVC2 (last threedigits at the back of the credit card), billing address, amount to bedonated.For more details, visit www.redcross.org.ph .

I got my copy at Caltex-Julia Vargas, also available at 7/11 and National Bookstores, or you can call 844-2316, 844-2251, 844-2275, 0919-583-8487 for orders.
Abuel: O hija, buksan mo na yung napaka-raming regalo ko.
Sunshine: (smiling demurely) Salamat itay, pero sa wari'y ko hindi ako nararapat tanggapin ang mga regalong iyan. (turning to her several elder brothers) Oh mga kuya, sa inyo na lang ang mga regalo ko.
Mga Kuya: Uy, tenk you!!
(The kuyas charge at the table and each grabs a gift for their own. Sunshine and her parents exchange meaningful looks and exchange hearty laughter.)Years ago, I laughed at the seeming idiocy of this scene. Yet upon mature retrospect, the genius of the visionary overwhelms. One would expect the brothers to be repulsed by the thought of appropriating the presents gifted to their sister on their eighteenth birthday. A hack director would have played the scene that way. What the auteur Caparas does is to confound our gender-driven expectations, compelling us to question our tacit acceptance of the male-female role vis-a-vis birthday gifts which conservative society had imposed on us. And there is no more vital role for an artist than to challenge our own values system.
With the special permission given by the Vatican, President Cory was finally face-to-face with Sister Lucia [of Fatima renown], who told her: "I have been praying for you all this time! Do you still have the rosary I sent you?"
It was the rosary Sister Lucia herself had made for her and given through Cardinal [Jaime] Sin, who had asked how she came to know about Cory, without radio or television or nespapers in the convent: Was it through the Blessed Mother? Lucia just smiled. (p. 179-180)
Apparently, Michael Jackson is Goliath, and he will win, says the Palace. And when that happens, the world will mourn like it mourned Kennedy. A prediction from Nostradamus? Just another atrocious PDI front page, though this one is the stuff of legends.