Pester Power

Here’s the idea: we pressure congressmen to impeach GMA.

We, meaning ordinary citizens everywhere, especially those from districts whose representatives have blocked (or are inclined to block) any move to impeach the president. The premise behind this “Operation Impeachment” is simply representative democracy. It’s the “active participation” everyone keeps writing about, only this time we have something more concrete to do than attend rallies.

[Disclaimer: rallies and statements of support are great (I’ll be at Ayala later). They serve to keep public opinion focused and to raise the heat. But it’s also time to focus our actions.]

Operation Impeachment. The rationale is simple, the actions required perhaps more so, but the effects are potentially far-reaching. It may serve not only to bring a corrupt administration to justice but also to help bring us to the next level of political development. At the very least it gives us something to do besides gathering en masse and hoping we spark another EDSA.


Why should we do it?

GMA is corrupt and has lost the moral ascendancy to govern – that is something most people agree on. Even the “anti- anti-GMA” know this; they just believe there is no better alternative. [To that I say read Raul Pangalangan’s argument against inaction. ]

However, removing her Erap-style is not a long-term solution. GMA isn’t the only problem, the same way Erap wasn’t. They are symptoms of an even bigger problem that has been around since before them. Besides, kicking her out would require more than a show of force. (Someone called her kapit-tuko before, this has never been more apt.) It may take actual force (with the military actively involved), a risk I am not willing to take.

Her resignation would be welcome, but honestly, does anybody see that happening? So we go for impeachment. And we help accomplish that by getting our representatives to do it.


How do we do it?

Two words: pester power.

We email, fax, call, or text our congressmen and tell them to support the bid for impeachment. We do this on a regular basis and in increasing numbers until they agree to sign a document that says they will support impeachment. We do this everyday if necessary until they announce on TV that they’re supporting impeachment.

Ang kapangyarihan ng kakulitan.

We do not stop until they side with us or unequivocally reject us, in which case we shame them. We shame them in person, we shame them in the media. If they’re thick enough to say they’re voting their consciences, we say they’re too thick to be in our ideal Congress.


Is it legal?

Hell yeah! Especially if we concentrate on representatives of our respective districts. We’re having lawyer types check it out but it’s basically all in the constitution. They’re called representatives for a reason.


When do we start?

Sometime next week. Hopefully we’ll have a resource site ready by then, with downloadable petition templates and “things to remember” documents. If it goes well we’ll even have a mechanism for reporting what has been done in participating districts.

I’ll be pitching this idea to people I’ll meet in the rally later. Let’s see where it goes.

Bangas

Abelpharmboy of Terra Sigillata is the new blogger's blogger. The guy liveblogged his own vasectomy! Now THAT is dedication.

Freeze

Halfway between a prank and performance art is Improv Everywhere's "Frozen Grand Central" gimmick [on YouTube], where 200 performers froze in place for five minutes to the surprise of everyone else in the station. The reactions are varied but the one I love most is author Nancy Kress's.

My reaction: Kung dito nyo ginawa sa MRT yan, nadukutan na kayong lahat.

Embarassing Joke

"Rest assured I was on the internet within minutes registering my disgust throughout the world."
-- Comic Book Guy, The Simpsons

San Beda High School used to have a play festival for third year students where we wrote and performed original material based on or inspired by "Noli Me Tangere." Our teachers raised our batch’s "Nolifest" to another level by integrating it with music classes; we had to write and perform full blown musicals. Two sections (mine included) attempted all-original music. The others cribbed from popular songs, changing the lyrics to fit their stories.

But enough of my nostalgia. It's a bad thing when a CCP “rock musical” written by a Palanca award winner, starring two of the better local theater actors, and with music supplied by one of the country's best bands reminds you of the high school musical you wrote over a weekend fifteen years ago. It's like three genius parents producing a retarded child.

But comparing "EJ: Ang Pinagdaanang Buhay Nina Evelio Javier at Edgar Jopson" to a retard is a disservice to developmentally-challenged children everywhere. It's not their fault they lost the genetic lottery, but everyone involved can be blamed (to a certain degree) for the sorry mess that is this musical.


Too much, too little

The problem stems from the dual task of telling the story of the EJs while incorporating The Dawn’s existing songs. It works for original stories tailor-fit for the music (“Mamma Mia” or “Across the Universe”) but fails in true-to-life stories.

Also, the fact that half of The Dawn’s hits are beer commercials with generic lyrics doesn’t help. “Salamat” is a great barkada song (anyone remember the commercial with the band on a pickup driving by the San Miguel billboard on Guadalupe bridge?) but doesn’t really fit, especially when you have the widows singing it in four-part harmony with the ghosts of the EJs before they (I swear I’m not making this up) GET PICKED UP BY AN ANGEL ON RAILS.

Shoehorning pedestrian lyrics to fit a play with so much stuff to discuss is just wrong. Original music (or lyrics, at least) would’ve reduced the cringe factor. As it was I buried my face in my hands (I wanted to weep) when the EJs were singing about their dreams for the country in tagalog (which, even at that, was awkward) and then rocking out to the chorus “Dreams are made for children / but now you do not see. / The answers you no longer find / what has happened to you / to you and me.”

Utang na loob, walang connect yung kanta sa istorya maliban sa salitang "dreams."


Bad storytelling, bad history

Trying to mesh the two EJs’ lives is in itself difficult, especially when you have no idea how they're supposed to mash up. The script is a jumble of events that happened in the lives of the titular characters without any direction or commentary. Like a high school history report done in sketch fashion.

What should’ve happened is a comparison and contrast of the directions their lives have taken, with one becoming a radical and the other remaining a reformist. Their discussion in heaven, or, lacking that, an omniscient narrator, would’ve been a perfect device to annotate this . Heck I’d have appreciated a version from the point of view of the wives.

But no, we get ALL of these conceits, plus additional narration from all the other important persons (like whoever's closest to the mike gets to narrate) leaving us with a confusing mess that is neither history nor proper storytelling.

[And don’t anybody make an excuse involving “experimental narrative devices” or post-modernism. “Doegeaters,” for all its flaws, did it in an entertaining fashion without confusing anyone. This one is just a mess.]


Bad music

I am a big fan of The Dawn. I’m probably one of the few people in the theater who is familiar with (I sang along) one of the ballads sung by Jopson. It was a B-side in the “Abot Kamay” album (the one with the psychedelic cover), an autographed cassette tape of which I still have.

But believe me when I say that the music sucks when used in a musical. C’mon, we’re used to Sondheim and “Rent” and “Avenue Q” and “Zsa-zsa Zaturnnah.” “Jesus Christ Superstar” had that funky riff as a theme throughout the show, what “EJ” had was an arpeggiated D-chord. It’s almost as bad as Louie Ocampo’s “Firewaterwoman.”

There was an attempt to fit the songs together when “Abot Kamay” and “Dreams” were merged, but that’s it. Neither song, though, was specifically assigned to a character as a theme, which is what you do in real musicals. And like its storytelling mode, the music was neither here nor there. It wasn’t dialogue punctuated by set pieces (like, say, “Avenue Q”) but it wasn’t a modern opera either (like Sondheim or Webber).


Just plain bad

Like a Disney movie the narrator character starts by telling the story but is conveniently forgotten in the end. This same narrator, without changing costume, also plays Ferdinand Marcos and Fabian Ver (among others, in a tank top), adding to the confusion. And we’re not even sure what the narrator is for, since he narrates only in the beginning. The rest of the show is spent watching the leads or playing random characters.

The whole thing is confused with too much unnecessary facts strewn around and too little development of plot or character. It fails even as a propaganda piece with its ambivalence towards the matter of reform or revolution. The message seems to be that of generic “pagbabago” instead of an insightful commentary on the national situation (then or now) and the EJs’ proposed solutions.

I was disappointed even before the curtains rose when (on a Saturday gala) they announced that neither of the two stars nor the band would be playing. After the curtain call I realized why.

I, too, would be ashamed to be part of this.

Difference

There have been comparisons between Jun Lozada and Chavit Singson since the beginning, with administration supporters spinning it such that Chavit appears to be more credible, being “in the know,” whilst Lozada’s testimony is mostly hearsay.

There is a big difference between Lozada and Chavit: the former feared for his life only after making a principled stand, Chavit gained a conscience only after fearing for his life.

Chavit’s choice to turn on his boss was perfectly practical; he was to be done away with anyway, better take his new enemies down with him. He got more than he bargained for, gaining immunity. Unlike Lozada, he knew exactly what he was doing.

Lozada’s choice was to be a good soldier, to “moderate the greed,” which he later realized was a futile attempt. (Greed, by its very definition, knows no bounds) He made a stand and got flak for it. Then events overtook him and now he’s a semi-reluctant star witness in a senate hearing. I’ve a feeling he wants all this to just go away but is already in too deep.

Chavit was trying to save his ass; Lozada is trying to do the right thing. That makes all the difference.

==========

EDIT: removed the "senate seat" thing. No excuse for that, but I wonder why I thought he won.

A suggestion

Darwin has an idea. Not exactly the endgame everyone is looking for but it may get us there. Plus it has the benefit of being within the constitutional framework. My thoughts on that tomorrow.

He links back here. Infinite loop.

There is no story

I think the reason "Jumper" rubbed me the wrong way is because it hit too close to home.

You sympathize with none of the characters. David is a selfish prick, someone who teleports to the end of his couch to pick up a remote control yet watches apathetically as people are being swept by floods. Roland is a someone who spends time, manpower, and resources tracking down kids who can teleport and killing them because they are "abominations" and that they'll "go bad" eventually. They're useless people expending a lot of energy chasing each other while ordinary guys starve and die and are swept away by floods.

I like Jun Lozada and I admire what he's done. I agree with alwaysanxious that he needn't be considered a hero for us to believe him. The fact that he's a heel who used to salve his conscience by "moderating the greed" (which is like placing a mesh screen over the bottomless pit of corruption) just makes him more credible.

Everyone is now trying to turn it into a battle between the light and dark side when it's really not. It's black and dark brown, two different shades. The people behind either side are jockeying for the part of "good guys" when in fact none of them are. None of us are.

To answer my question two posts down, there is no story, and there shouldn't be. At least not until after the entire things is resolved and we can view it through eyes made impartial by time.

What we need is a plan.

Skippable

Doug Liman's "Jumper" is watchable for the special effects and the rematch between Anakin and MAce Windu. Other than that it's a generic action film (with the major set pieces shown in the trailers) without a generic good vs. evil theme.

Normally that would be great; good stories don't give answers, they ask questions. But "Jumper" fails to address even the most basic question prompted by the existence of their powers. It could've taken a libertarian tack and implied that jumpers have the right to do those things "because they can." Or maybe a Spiderman-ish "with great power..."

But no, we had to get Emo!Anakin again, whining because a covert group is trying to prevent him from robbing banks and seducing his childhood crush.

Jedi don't cry

I was in a student forum yesterday with Bro. Armin Luistro and, in his keynote, he told the story of how he got involved in the whole Lozada thing. What’s interesting (but not really surprising) is that he, too, is looking for an endgame. He doesn’t know what would happen, preferring to just support a guy who wants to tell his story.

I guess this is what’s lacking in this whole exercise. Jun Lozada’s story is compelling but it’s not being told properly. I disagree with Conrad de Quiros, this pales in comparison to the Estrada impeachment hearings.

Unlike 2000 – when there was a team regulating the revelations and making sure that the pacing is correct – today’s bombshells come unplanned. Instead of a deftly woven plot we have a series of “things that happen.” For me, this gonzo quality lends credence but it keeps the narrative from becoming something people want to follow, much less take action on.

During the first EDSA the lines were clearly drawn. Marcos was evil and Cory represented good. The Church and the common tao were behind her. She was Joan of Arc. Doy Laurel, who was arguably more qualified to run the country, had no choice but play second fiddle. Cory was the better story, the more sympathetic protagonist.

The second EDSA had Chavit as the repentant anti-hero, Joker and Roco and Clarissa as paragons of principle, and Miriam Defensor-Santiago and Teresa Aquino-Oreta as clear contrabidas defending a fat, lazy president. Erap wasn’t Ming the Merciless or a brilliant, scheming Doctor Doom, he was Jabba the Hutt.

The line dividing the light and the dark side was clear. We knew who the bad guys were.

Star Wars (the original trilogy) became a huge success partly because it resonated with everyone. It follows a pattern Joe Campbell calls the Hero’s Journey, which is repeated in myths around the world. It is a compelling story that has been replicated recently to great success by “Harry Potter” and “Heroes.”

Jun Lozada, or whoever is handling him, is doing a piss-poor job at telling a compelling story. Jedi don’t cry. The dark side and the light side are cool metaphors only when good and evil are clearly defined. Today everything is grey.

And grey is exactly where Lozada is coming from.

He tries to play the game “for the greater good,” facilitating shady deals as long as the kickbacks are manageable. He’s no Jedi; those who play the Star Wars card need to be knights with shining sabers – pure actions and noble intentions. Lozada is nearer to Jack Bauer, who flaunts rules to act in behalf of what he considers “the greater good.”

There’s no story. Not yet.

Someone needs to start thinking about it.

Moderate greed

Adjective or verb? Do we allow a moderate amount of greed? Or do we moderate the greed until it falls into acceptable levels? And how much greed does one need to have to ask for double 30 million USD?

[more thoughts when i finish the paying stuff]

The Original Emo Kid

I like anything post-apocalyptic so when I heard that Repertory Philippines' new "Hamlet" was going to be set in a futuristic desert wasteland I just had to see it. It called to mind the 1990 version, with Mad Max playing the sweet prince. Of course that was due to his portrayal of crazy SOB Riggs in the "Lethal Weapon" series.

Like Baz Luhrmann's "Romeo + Juliet," Ana Abad Santos-Bitong's "Hamlet" strips the play down to its core but retains Shakespeare's dialog in a fit of deconstruction. The production is set in a generic sci-fi wasteland where England and France still exist (presumably as deserts, too) and warriors run around with scimitars, daggers, and a big honking mallet.

The set design is wonderfully minimalist, making use of angled inclines to maximize space. It's just a bit dusty, which I guess is the point. The costumes are all leather and corsets and mohawks but I was somewhat relieved that they didn't go all Amy Lee on Ophelia, dressing her, instead, in white, the only bright spot in the bleak landscape.

The weapons look cool (if a bit impractical) but what's amusing is that the final duel looked too much like Feyd-Rautha and Muad'dib's duel in David Lynch's "Dune" -- coming full circle since Herbert got that scene from "Hamlet," complete with poisoned blade.

Joel Trinidad plays Claudius as a weasel, a short, bald weasel -- Yul Brynner with less majesty and a mousy voice that screams "schemer." Cris Villonco's Ophelia is the not-too-innocent kid sister to Jamie Wilson's surfer-dude Laertes (did he really play it that way or was that just his lisp?). Bodjie Pascua gets props for bringing us back to Shakespeare and actually speaking in iambic pentameter. The rest of the cast is superb from Rosencrantz and Guildenstern (whom we can tell apart) to the soldiers and players.

Hamlet is emo in tight pants and eyeliner, which is fitting; he IS the original troubled teen. Niccolo Manahan plays him as such, allowing the audience to see the character as a kid trying to deal with his father's death, his mother's remarriage to his uncle (who killed his father), and a girlfriend with a disapproving father (whom he accidentally killed, driving her batshit insane). Emo!Hamlet is angsty instead of melancholy, which is the stuff of tragedy (if the characters were self-aware).

Which, in a way, they are in "Hamlet." A play within a play, commenting on the state of the viewers watching the other play. A meta-something or other driven by soliloquies, which makes it a great vehicle for actors. Every major character has a moment in the literal spotlight to expound internal motivations. Which is why this Hamlet doesn't do bombast; "To be or not to be" and "Alas, poor Yorick" are recited as the musings that they are.

* * * * *

The play clocks at 2 1/2 hours, with some scenes edited out (watch the Kenneth Branagh version for the full four hours). Definitely time well spent.