A Descent into the Eighth Circle

E·N·Q·U·I·R·Y
DEMAREE J.B. RAVAL

A Descent into the Eighth Circle
(with apologies to Dante Alighieri)
Sunday, 08 07, 2005

I dreamed that I died when I saw a Fat Man disembark from a plane that brought him back from voluntary exile. I found myself flying straight to Lawyers’ Heaven. While my cloud was being prepared, I asked permission from the Great Judge Upstairs to take a glimpse of Hell, a request which He granted. And just so I won’t get lost in the mazes of Hell, I was given a group of guides who called themselves “Hyatt 10.”

At the gates of Hell was a sign: “Abandon hope, all ye who enter.” I was told we will bypass the first seven punishment circles, and that I would be taken straight to the Eighth Circle, where the souls of sinners are already burning even as they are still alive on earth. Here are condemned to eternal damnation those guilty of Fraud, Pimping and Seducing, Flattery, Political Corruption, Hypocrisy, Theft, Fraudulent Rhetoric, Divisiveness, and Falsification.

So we plunged straight to the Eighth Circle, where I beheld the horribly tormented souls guilty of Fraud, that face of malice which human beings alone exhibit. One of my guides, Dinky, explained that this sin was more abhorrent than sins of concupiscence and violence, because it involves victimizing those with whom a special bond of trust has been established. Here too, according to another guide, Emi, are the Pimps and Seducers and Flatterers who have abused power through lies and verisimilitude.

In another part of the Eighth Circle, one of my guides, Rene, pointed to those guilty of Political Corruption and Hypocrisy, all of them in dresses designed to conceal the rot that continually ate away at their flesh. Just as Jesus compared hypocritical scribes and Pharisees to tombs that were clean and beautiful on the outside while containing bones of the dead, the immaculate clothing of these hypocrites concealed rot and putrefaction on the inside.

As we proceeded into the deeper pits, another guide, Cesar by name, pointed to the section occupied by Thieves and Falsifiers. Here were lumped the Divisive Individuals - perpetrators of acts that breed public outrage, including one who erased the identity of a man named FPJ - fittingly hidden within tongues of fire as punishment for having been evil counselors who employed rhetoric for destructive ends in order to breed corruption and weaken the moral fiber of the populace.

As we reached the deepest pit, my guide Johny explained that although the punishment in Hell is…uh, hellish, there is a logical relationship between the offense and the punishment. Just as these condemned sinners divided institutions, communities, and families in life, so these figures are physically and repeatedly sliced apart for eternity in Hell. The punishment for Thieves - a continual transformation from human to reptilian forms - is a contrapuntal affirmation of the verity that no possession, no matter how sacrosanct, is safe in the domain of the determined Thief. More intense is the retribution for the Falsifiers - jugglers of funds, usurpers of authority - as reflected in their diseased bodies and minds.

And just as we were preparing to leave Hell, pandemonium arose in a room, in a cacophony so infernal it bespoke of more unimaginable tortures. I asked what the room was for. With a rueful smile, Bert, another guide, showed me writhing figures, some consumed by fire, others undergoing transformations, all reverting to human shapes that I knew too well, before being engulfed by fire and being changed to hideous forms again. Jun, the other guide, told me: “That is the suite for the members of the Department of the Underground, whose souls are already roasting even as they are still alive on earth."

I woke up in a cold sweat. I tried to shake the last vestiges of the nightmare off my mind, but a voice went on: “Its Secretary does not only share the President’s bed. He more than shares the powers of government. The Department of the Underground has become the most creative agency of grease, graft, and corruption. Its expertise is to broker crooked deals. Its excellence is to assign cronies to positions of power and make money out of them.”

As the images of that nightmare transformed into the familiar, I realized that it was my voice quoting the exposé of a senator delivered barely eight months into Gloria’s presidency, referring to the intervention of her spouse in the May 2001 senatorial elections, using PCSO funds to secure the election of four favored candidates.

Then, the memories of past scams came to mind: NAIA, PEA, NFA, Telecoms, Jose Pidal….the list went on.

The Department has tentacles everywhere, manned by those who owe loyalty to no other than the one who heads it. Their appointments are secure. They are very powerful, putting them at a vantage point to influence decisions, and just as easily turn a blind eye and a deaf ear to any question of legality or propriety.

Which brings me to the Hyatt 10 in my dream. Will their earthly counterparts ever bring out the sordid truths about the gargantuan fee given to an actress for election-related services? The use of the road users’ tax, OWWA, and PCSO funds, and the recovered Marcos wealth to buy votes? The man in that famous Makati street behind the multi-billion TCCs scam? The racehorses from Australia and the high-end vehicles that now parade on our streets? The silencing of witnesses? And the jueteng money found right at La Vista by Portly Louie?

How much longer do we have to wait before we spill out into the streets and exultantly shout, “Sic transit Gloria!” as hell breaks loose and she is escorted into the People’s Court where on its portals are inscribed the words: “Leave behind all hope, you who enter, who lived without shame and without honor.”


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