E·N·Q·U·I·R·Y
DEMAREE J.B. RAVAL
DEMAREE J.B. RAVAL
A tale for All Saint’s Day
Sunday, 10 30, 2005
Manila has lost a considerable number of its population today. As early as Thursday bus stations, the domestic airport and the South Harbor piers were crammed with thousands of people bound for the provinces in observance of a tradition: to visit the gravesites of their honored dead.
So for this weekend, the occupants of Manila’s most popular destination these days, namely, Malacañang, could rest easy. For a while, there will be no groups of people who will try to serve a summons to its imperious occupant, Her Majesty the Tyrant Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo. For a while, there will be no groups of people to be sent away in a manner that is repulsive to the innate hospitality accorded by the Filipino to visitors. You see, these people, whom the Malacañang occupant does not want to see, much less entertain, are sent away by club-wielding policemen and firemen gleefully training their water cannons on these hapless visitors. For a while, there will be no groups of people who will try to cross Mendiola Bridge, get past the riot police and heavily armed soldiers, the fire trucks with water cannons at the ready, the barbed wire entanglements, and the cargo containers that have been stacked up as barriers against unwelcome visitors. For a while, there will be no thousands of people who will try to go to Malacañang to ask its unlawful occupant to vacate the place.
But they will be back. And it would take no less than a phalanx of mercenary Black Army members, or even fire-spouting dragons and legions of the undead to keep them away.
In the meantime, GMA could relax and enjoy the respite of her declared holidays, wonder about how much time is left before she gets ousted, and ponder the grim humor of this story that is going the rounds:
The tale goes that GMA - alarmed by the restiveness of the military, the defections and revelations of people formerly connected with her administration, and the overwhelming majority of the population who dislike her - saw the light at last and decided to place a direct phone call to God.
GMA: Dear God, I’m sorry to disturb you again. I know You’re terribly busy running the universe, but I need You once again to enlighten me before I get dragged out of the Palace. Would you know when that day would be?
GOD: Of course, my child. I know everything. I even knew that you were lying when you declared that you would not run for president. I know that you did talk to that fellow Garci. I know that you sent this fellow Bert Gonzales to engage in that Venable shenanigan even as you were addressing the nation to put everything behind and start afresh. That was a sneaky thing to do, if you ask me. I know -
GMA (interrupting): Yes, my Lord, I admit all these things and, between You and me and the Malacañang lamppost, I admit that I am truly sorry. But I cannot openly admit that to the Filipino people. It would be bad for my reputation as an unrepentant liar. Besides, it keeps Bunye on his toes and justifies the obscenely huge salary I pay him to churn up apologies and explanations which, I suspect, the people don’t believe anyway. But I digress . . . the reason I’m calling You again is....
GOD (interrupting GMA and sounding irked): I know, you naughty child! How I wish this were the last time you’d call! Do you realize that you have often distracted me by your persistent calls, aside from taking my name in vain in your public utterances? Enough is enough!
GMA (chastised): I’m sorry, my Lord.
GOD: You can do more than being sorry. Get out of that Palace before the people forcibly drag you out screaming in that shrill voice of yours.
GMA: Yes, my Lord. Do You know when that day will be?
GOD: My child, it will be on a national holiday.
GMA (alarmed): Do You mean this coming All Saints’ Day, my Lord?
GOD: No, my child. All Saints’ Day is too sacred for Filipinos to spend in bothering for your downfall. They’d rather spend it quietly in the cemeteries, in respectful company of their honored and beloved departed. Although this veneration for the dead does not prevent them from devoutly wishing that you’d as soon, uh, you know . . . depart, too. All Saints’ Day’s not the day, my child.
GMA (relieved): Salamat sa Diyos! I mean, “Thank you, my Lord.” So what other holiday would it be? Bonifacio Day? National Heroes’ Day? Christmas Day? Rizal Day?
GOD: No, my child; not one of those days. But it will definitely be on a holiday. I myself don’t have a name for it yet, but I trust the Filipino people, in their unbounded wisdom, to come up with an appropriate name for it.
GMA: But surely You would know the day! That’s what being God is for. What day would that be?
GOD: My child, any day that you are run out of office is a national holiday for the Filipinos. It’s any day now. Now, if you’ll excuse me . . . your friend Bush is on the other phone.
* * *
Reality check: These days one can easily visualize GMA gazing out of a bulletproof window at Malacañang, looking at the tidily kept lawn and murmuring to herself: “Perhaps I should have land mines planted all over the place for my successor when - it’s no longer if - he comes. My successor, hmm . . . I wonder who he would be among that gaggle of wannabes out there.”
She need not worry. Next issue we’ll tell her why.
For comments about this website:Webmaster@tribune.net.ph
GOD: You can do more than being sorry. Get out of that Palace before the people forcibly drag you out screaming in that shrill voice of yours.
GMA: Yes, my Lord. Do You know when that day will be?
GOD: My child, it will be on a national holiday.
GMA (alarmed): Do You mean this coming All Saints’ Day, my Lord?
GOD: No, my child. All Saints’ Day is too sacred for Filipinos to spend in bothering for your downfall. They’d rather spend it quietly in the cemeteries, in respectful company of their honored and beloved departed. Although this veneration for the dead does not prevent them from devoutly wishing that you’d as soon, uh, you know . . . depart, too. All Saints’ Day’s not the day, my child.
GMA (relieved): Salamat sa Diyos! I mean, “Thank you, my Lord.” So what other holiday would it be? Bonifacio Day? National Heroes’ Day? Christmas Day? Rizal Day?
GOD: No, my child; not one of those days. But it will definitely be on a holiday. I myself don’t have a name for it yet, but I trust the Filipino people, in their unbounded wisdom, to come up with an appropriate name for it.
GMA: But surely You would know the day! That’s what being God is for. What day would that be?
GOD: My child, any day that you are run out of office is a national holiday for the Filipinos. It’s any day now. Now, if you’ll excuse me . . . your friend Bush is on the other phone.
* * *
Reality check: These days one can easily visualize GMA gazing out of a bulletproof window at Malacañang, looking at the tidily kept lawn and murmuring to herself: “Perhaps I should have land mines planted all over the place for my successor when - it’s no longer if - he comes. My successor, hmm . . . I wonder who he would be among that gaggle of wannabes out there.”
She need not worry. Next issue we’ll tell her why.
For comments about this website:Webmaster@tribune.net.ph
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