120. Open Notes

When I used to teach in a law school, I had a policy of open notes during exams.  I guess my students loved me for it, but soon they realized that the answers to my questions are not in any book. My theory is that the true measure of learning is in the ability of the students to determine the relevance of available legal information given a particular problem and the ability to apply the legal information to the problem. This process presupposes that the student has read through the material, determined the important matters, synthesized the lessons, and has found their connection to real life scenarios. So the students who have not been doing their homework will never pass the exam even if I allow them to open their notes during exams. They would more likely than not miss the point, fail to spot the relevant issues, and cite the wrong law.  This is the same view I have for the presidential debates. It doesn't matter if they have open notes.  If they don't know their stuff, they would be muttering irrelevant information and they would miss the point of every question. Besides, intelligence is less about data, but more about disciplined thinking, just like the presidency being less about debates but more about leadership. Incidentally, the candidate -- who claimed to be unaware of the no notes policy and insisted on a compromise where everyone is not allowed to have notes except him -- has already shown the brand of self-entitled idiotic leadership he brings. Heaven forbid that he wins. 

119. Coffee, Chocolate, and the Doctrine of Eternal Return

"Everything has returned. Sirius, and the spider, and thy thoughts at this moment, and this last thought of thine that all things will return"


- Friedrich Nietzsche



I have been trying to decide whether my earliest memory was coffee or chocolate. It has something to do with Nietzsche's idea of the cyclical nature of things. If Gary Larson were to make a comic out of it, it would be like those well-drawn characters and "Infinity" would be telling "Finity", "You cannot fill me up because I'm limitless and you're limited." So, "Finity" answers, "Oh yeah, what if I repeat myself endlessly?" It's like putting a mirror in front of another mirror, a trick I used to play as a kid. If you peek inside it, there is an endless repetition of the mirror inside a mirror, with your nose peering into it. But my inclination is trying to remember where it all began -- coffee or chocolate -- and by so doing I hope I could explain where I am and predict where I would go. And maybe I might find out something interesting too. 


1. Coffee


I was born in 1970 in Manila but I grew up in Pola, Oriental Mindoro, Philippines, south of Manila, north of Cebu, east of Palawan, west of Boracay. My mother, Zennie,  who was taking the first board exams for medical technologists after I was born, had left me in the care of my grandparents, Benedicto (Tatay) and Maria (Inay), while my Mom and my father, Edmund, started out with their young married life in the outskirts of Quezon City. She had been teaching medical technology college students, and she couldn't live with the thought of her students passing exams the board exams and she failing it. Thus, the toddler, who happened to be me, had to be sent to the old town with the grandparents while she focused on the review.


In Pola, we lived in a big house made mostly from trunks of Narra trees, which my Tatay patiently planted, tended, and harvested in his homestead farm after the war.  The house had three big rooms and I stayed in the master's bedroom with my grandparents. I would normally wake up alone at dawn as the folks were early risers. While the roosters began to cock, Inay would be sweeping the front of the house. I could hear the gentle swishing of her broomsticks as she cleared the ground of dried leaves from the previous day.  Tatay would be at the public market awaiting the day's catch to prepare for our meals. As I open my eyes from sleep, I would be greeted by the high ceiling works of those Narra craftsmen who built the house in 1967. I would then slowly make my way to the dining table, which was a long twelve-seater and also made of solid Narra. I would be by my usual chair at the left side of one end, and there I would find it -- a cup of coffee. 


It's Kapeng Barako, caffea liberica, always fresh and warm, which Tatay boiled in a pot over a stove. The coffee was a daily staple. As soon as I stopped drinking milk and became conscious of the world, I started having coffee. So, I don't ever recall having taken milk.  We put sugar and evaporated milk on it. Sometimes, we pour coffee over rice. Fried eggs and rice soaked in Kapeng Barako was our daily breakfast fare. Sometimes, we had pan de sal,  pineapple jam, and cheese. 


Kapeng Barako is probably one of the boldest flavors of coffee. I would describe it to my future wife, Ma. Celeste, as the one without finesse. It is bitter and has that Turkish roughness at the finish. But Tatay's pot-boiled Kapeng Barako has somehow tamed its boldness and cleaned up the finish. That's why it's best for soaking rice, a practice which amuses  Manilans and foreigners alike. 


The coffee is grown in the farms of Pola but the variety came from Batangas and Cavite. Back in the 70s, I would often see coffee beans being dried on mats laid out on the streets. On one occasion, I tasted one of these red cherry fruits out of curiosity and found it mildly sweet. After being dried under the sun, the coffee was roasted and then brought to the market where it would be grounded and sold. Inay owned a store, and she sold ground coffee in old newspapers rolled into cones for “manalapi” or fifty centavos each. She made a good living out of that store where she sold rice, canned goods, soft drinks, cigarettes, and liquor.  Coffee was sold cheap and the margins were low. But I could tell from memory it was the one which always registered a sale day in and day out. It was what retailers would now call a "fast moving consumer item".


The coffee would stay in the pot the whole day to be warmed as the need arose. And if there was anything left at the end of the day, it would be poured on the sink so the pot could be cleaned for the next morning’s brew. Meanwhile, with the advent of processed food, instant coffee made its way to our dining table too. But Tatay never quite gave up on our Kapeng Barako. He would offer guests coffee and ask them if they preferred instant coffee or the pot-boiled Kapeng Barako. He always had both in reserve. 


Preparing instant coffee was easy. Hot water, coffee granules, sugar --  and it was done. Instant coffee demystified the complex process of making pot-boiled coffee for the young kid that I was. Unfortunately, it lacks flavor, which is what coffee is all about. When I was a teen-ager, I once stayed in a house in Barangay Sinipit, Cabiao, Nueva Ecija and was served instant coffee that looked so pale, it could compare with  a baby’s urine. I felt pity for the people in that town for having known coffee only in that way. 


Recently, I met a client who owned a coffee plantation in the Kona belt in Hawaii and she would give me a kilogram of Kona coffee every year as a token of her appreciation for my work. Kona is considered the champagne of coffee. It runs in one's mouth like water. No bite, just smooth, no sourness. It has low acidity, so to drink it is to have a clean luscious coffee experience. How can instant coffee ever compare?  


Yet, commerce succeeded in subverting the experience and changing our perceptions. Advertising and the onslaught of mass media made it impossible for common folks to resist the lure of modernity. Were it not for Tatay who prepared coffee the old fashioned way, I would not have known that real coffee is not instant.



2. Chocolate



An equally strong memory that lurks in my mind, however, is chocolate. We poured hot chocolate over suman and laced it with condensed milk. We also pour it over our rice. But often the chocolate is made into champorado with sticky rice. Condensed milk is how we sweetened it. When I was four, I remember being impatient with eating the hot champorado one day. Tatay who was concerned about my predicament taught me the trick of spooning the champorado from the edge  of the plate, which was the coolest part of the porridge. It worked, and since then I never had trouble with hot chocolate porridge again. 


In 1987 as a teen-ager going on summer vacation,I arrived in Pola and found Inay roasting cocoa beans in a big pan. The smoky aroma of the cocoa roasting enveloped the kitchen, and I could hear the sound of Inay's rhythmic and gentle strokes on the pan cradling the beans from one side of the pan to the other. She was like a conductor as she gracefully stirred the beans from side to side and around the pan above the light fire, carefully paying attention that the beans were roasted evenly without burning them. The outer shells were popping out of the beans and the chocolates were revealing themselves in the heat. Then, she stopped. It was time to  ground them. 


Tatay had set up the grinder on his working table. It was screwed from one edge of the table. It had an opening on top where he put the beans, and a long hand lever which he turned on a circular motion to grind the roasted beans. Chocolate would then emerge from the other side, oily and sticky brown, to be scraped off and placed on a plate. 


As the chocolate landed on the plate, it was mixed in brown sugar, rolled into balls,  and left to dry overnight. It would be then kept in glass bottles before they were given away as gifts or consumed. We never sold them to anyone. They were too precious to be sold. When groceries marketed their own local chocolate tableas, Tatay lamented that they were mixed with peanuts. So, through the years our family continued to make our own chocolate.


Unlike the instant coffee, however,  instant chocolate was never quite regarded as an equal to our chocolate tableas. We rarely had instant chocolate in the house, and Milo was never considered a chocolate drink at all. It was something you drink to make it to the Olympics, a product of Filipino marketing genius and hot air. 


Milo is made from chocolate and malt, and it is an energy drink because of the carbohydrates in it which is derived from sugar. So, in a sense it's claim as an energy drink has basis but it makes Coke, which has seven teaspoons of sugar in a can, the energy drink for all seasons. 


Yet, in the 70s, people were not aware that a boost in energy from sugar would be accompanied by a sugar crash. So, if you were going to the Olympics and you're drinking Milo thinking it can boost your energy, you're actually setting up yourself for defeat. My family knew it was all a ruse. Thus, for my current household, where four kids grew up, I have bought not a single tin can of Milo. 


3. Repetition


In the 80s, my Dad had this steel contraption where a ball with swing back and forth by its own weight. I was in grade school then and I wondered often if the swinging would ever stop. Every time I visited my Dad's office in a building in front of Stella Maris School, Aurora Boulevard, Cubao, Quezon City, I would notice it swinging. Nobody seemed to touch it and I concluded, it would probably never stop unless it got toppled over accidentally or on purpose. My Dad moved in to a new office soon and I lost track of what happened to that steel contraption. 


After finishing high school, I went to Ateneo to take up a degree in philosophy. I soon got introduced to the works of Albert Camus, especially The Stranger and the Plague. What fascinated me with Camus's work, was its eloquence yet it inhabited a sense of quiet resentment about the condition of man. In another book, Albert Camus had an image of the Sisyphus whom the gods condemned to ceaselessly roll a rock to the top of a mountain, and the stone would fall back of its own weight over and over again. It reminded me of my Dad's steel contraption. 


Many years later, I discussed the myth of Sisyphus with Juan Benedicto, my first born son, one morning over coffee and chocolate, and he said it was sad. But I told him that in knowing that we are destined to swing back and forth and repeat what we have done, there is a possibility that the understanding can give us an idea on what we can do about it. The alternating current moves from point A to point B then pulses back to point A and point B. Sure, it is repetitive,  but something happens in this repetition, energy is present. And as long as the swinging goes on, the energy is there. 



4. Coffee again



Tatay and Inay traced their heritage from Batangas Province home of Kapeng Barako. Inay hailed from Bauan and Tatay from Calaca. Inay's family moved to Pola before World War II and started a farm where they maintained a self-sustaining community during the war. Tatay was a typewriter repair man. They got married and had their first child, who was my Mom, after the war. They stayed in Gov. Forbes street in Manila while Inay's siblings finished their studies in the University of Sto. Tomas. Life was full of hope then but it was not easy. Inay noted how unstable Tatay's job was and decided to pack their things, move out of Manila, and get into agriculture in Pola. Soon, they attained success in farming. Their farm grew to 37 hectares which allowed them to build a big house and send their children to school. All their three children finished college, and one even became a lawyer. They lived unto their 80s, sustained by the fruits of their farming venture. 


My Mom passed the board exams and was a topnotcher. My Mom said she dreamed that she got 33.33 percent, and was bothered by the dream, until the results came out that she was #3 among the topnotchers. I then moved in with back with my real parents in an apartment owned by Ilocanos in Quezon City to begin my schooling.  But the coffee habit had stuck, except that we never had Kapeng Barako in our apartment in Quezon City. We had Nescafe or Great Taste, which didn't taste that great. Once in a while though, chocolate tableas from Pola  would make their way into our kitchen, and I would have a blast with champorado for breakfast. 


Relatives from Canada soon introduced us to the foreign instant coffee brand, Taster's Choice. It was much better than the local brand as it had this pleasant aroma, which all things imported seemed to have. Yet, it was still pale compared to Kapeng Barako. The 70s and 80s were the era of instant coffee. Hardly any household in Manila brewed their own coffee. On one occasion though, I found different kinds coffee beans being sold in Rustan’s Supermarket in Cubao. Yet, my curiosity and interest for different kinds of coffee could not be supported by my allowance. So I often wondered how the other types of coffee tasted like.  One afternoon while preparing for philosophy oral exams, a classmate, Vinnie, bragged about his dad who was a regular purchaser of Rustan’s coffee beans. He said his dad always said that all coffee was bitter, the difference was in the aroma. 

In 1991, I decided I was going to law school. I was about to finish my degree in philosophy from the Ateneo, and I asked my metaphysics teacher,  Fr. Roque Ferriols, S. J., to make his letter of recommendation. I met him at the lobby of the Loyola House of Studies while he was having coffee. Fr. Ferriols was the first Filipino to teach philosophy in Filipino during the 70s. He was a young Jesuit scholastic during the war. Thereafter, he was then sent to New York to complete his studies in Fordham University. He was a linguist as well. He translated Greek texts directly to Filipino and often in class, he would provide the equivalent of one Greek quotation in English, French, Spanish, Ilocano, Bisaya, and Tagalog. The man was a genius, but I would remember him for the depth of his simple philosophical statement, "Sana wala na, ngunit meron." It's hard to capture that in English, but my best attempt is, "It could have been nothing, but it is."


He greeted me that morning, and filled out the boxes in the form. I remember him ticking the boxes that was probably a little short of a grand slam recommendation to the law school and showed them to me. He said that he wanted me to see what he thought of me, which was contrary to the instructions of the law school forms. I thanked him for it, because it weighed a lot considering his reputation. It gave me confidence that I could make it to law school. He folded the paper and put in the envelope. He was about to lick the seal of the envelope with his tongue when he stopped and said. "Better seal it yourself as the ants might eat it. I'm drinking coffee."


My new adventure could have ended there as I almost got killed on the day I started law school in June 1991. I was on the seat farthest to the driver on a jeepney. Buendia Avenue was slippery as it was drizzling. We had just traversed Makati Avenue and the driver had stopped at the WIP building to load some passengers. We were accelerating to a full speed when I saw this light blue armored van approaching us. Its driver had lost control as the front wheels were locked but the van kept moving on the wet road. The van's driver swerved to our lane and hit us, landed on the sidewalk, bumped a few pedestrians, and came to a full stop after hitting a plant box a hundred meters forward. I had scratches of the van's blue paint on my jacket. We were fine. But the pedestrians were wincing in pain. We got off the jeepney as they loaded the victims on the jeepney which was to take them to the nearby Makati Medical Center. I took short walk to the Ateneo Law School, uttered a prayer in the chapel, and went up the cafeteria. I ordered coffee which they brewed in a large pot and some rice and  longaniza.  I poured coffee over the rice and ate the meal that I could have missed forever.  Thinking about it now, I was just an inch and a second away from certain death. But I was not meant to die yet, because I  had to complete a cycle. I had to drink coffee first before I die. It's not superstition, but Nietzsche, or it could be Fr. Ferriols with his cup of coffee muttering, "Sana wala na, ngunit meron."



5. More Coffee


In law school, I had to find a way to stay awake every night to finish the reading list for the following day. Ground coffee was hard to find in Project Two Quezon City where my Mom and my sisters stayed until I got married in the late 90s. So, I had to get by studying late nights in our apartment on Nescafe and Taster's Choice. The boost from caffeine was there, but it soon wore out as I had to drink cup after cup to keep up with the readings and recitations. I struggled in my early years. I felt sleepy and I couldn't focus. And with the Ateneo Law School’s demand for academic excellence, I was always a few points away from failing marks.


At the turn of the 90s, somebody marketed Jolt Cola, which had a double dose of caffein. But it didn't have a lasting effect either. I got appointed as a Notes and Comments Editor of the Ateneo Law Journal in my junior year. We had access to the student activity room which we shared with the student council.  It was the elite crowd of the school and we soon learned that we all shared a passion for coffee. Somebody organized the Coffee Club, and we chipped some of our allowance for a large coffeemaker, ground coffee, and a rack for our mugs. We were blissfully united by the smell of coffee that enveloped the room as soon as the first cup was brewed. By this time, I had managed to get a grip on how things worked out in law. I had more focus. I ditched Jolt Cola and the house blend Nescafe and looked forward to my daily cup from the Coffee Club. 


One morning I arrived in the student activity room and found a friend, Blue, visibily agitated that the coffeemaker ran out of filters. He opened the drawers of the table one by one only to find out that the boxes of filters were empty. We thought of options like using our socks instead to help us get by, but we decided it was not a good idea (too many flavors), and we settled with tissue papers. It worked and we found peace and harmony again in the coffee that was brewed as we tackled the reading list of the day. The coffee from the Coffee Club probably turned around my academic carreer.  Thus, I attributed it less to coincidence but more to the Coffee Club that I soon made it to the Dean's list and then graduated with a silver medal in 1995. 


Passing the bar exams was my next hurdle. My Dad decided he was going to allow me to stay on my own apartment to help me focus as I reviewed. It was the first time I was going to live on my own with one specific objective, pass the bar. The first person I visited to help me assemble my stuff for the apartment was my Mom's brother, Tito Dexter, who was then Vice President for legal in a local bank. He was kind enough to lend me his coffee maker that afternoon and gave me some money to buy coffee and a box of filters. I emerged from his office gleefully clinging to the machine like a kid happy to bring home a toy. 


The coffee maker was the only appliance in the apartment. I had a bed, a table, a guitar, and books. I shared the apartment with a friend, Punzi, who once tried out the coffee and couldn't sleep for the night because of the extra doze of caffein. The smell of coffee dominated the apartment, it was the elixir that kept me going in the dead of the night for months as I prepared for the big exams. 


While taking a break from the preparations one Saturday afternoon, my friend, Enzo, brought me to the lobby of Makati Shangri-La Hotel. He said this was where he spent his days reviewing. He ordered coffee which came in a small pot, good for three cups, and some biscuits. He had a good view of the orchestra which played baroque music and he opened his books. I decided it was not a bad way to spend 60 bucks in 1995.


My friends, Punzi and Enzo, and I eventually passed the bar. I became the third lawyer in the family after my two uncles, Edgar, my Dad's brother, and, Dexter, my Mom's brother.  I took my oath as a lawyer in April 15, 1996. and applied for work in a securities law firm, Picazo Buyco Tan Fider & Santos where the bosses were all coffee addicts too. The curious thing was they didn't have any coffeemaker, so we all had to content ourselves with Nescafe. One day my Mom bought me a Taster's Choice Coffee blended with almonds. It became a hit in the firm that it ran out in less than a week. One of my bosses who probably consumed a lot of it apologized to me and I told her it was fine. Besides, I never really liked Taster's Choice as I was always yearning for real brewed coffee.  A few weeks after, the firm management decided we were going to have a coffee machine and the lawyers blissfully worked day in day out. 


In 1996, I started dating my soon to be wife, Ma. Celeste. We met each other in college. She was two years behind me in school so she was in third year when I started law school. I lost touch with her until I was already working. A friend of ours, Steven, gave me her number and one Saturday afternoon in 1996 I decided to call her.  We went out to have a quick dinner in EDSA Shangri-Mall food court and watched a play at the theater. After the play, she invited me to her house where she stayed with her mom, Percy, and sister, Cristina. Celeste prepared some coffee in her cafetiera, which she took home from Italy, after a year long stay. Unfortunately, when the cafetiera was about to finish boiling the coffee, it tipped over the stove and spilled the coffee. I found the cafetiera a curious piece of gadgetry that evening and that made me more interested in Ma. Celeste as we obviously both shared a passion for coffee. We got married a year after and I finally got to have coffee as prepared through the cafetiera when we moved in together in 1998.


At about the same time, I was invited by a client for a meeting at Starbucks, 6750 Ayala Avenue, which as it turned was the first of more than 200 coffee shops they would soon put up.  I wondered what was this hip place with the young professional crowd? It brewed coffee and made chocolate all day and served expensive baked goodies. I would hang around the place since then and find my way too in other branches. They had coffee and chocolate from all over the world. I thought it was brilliant way to earn a living. Finally, commerce has found a way to make money on coffee and chocolate without disrespecting them. 


6. Coffee still


By 2003, I have started my own law firm and high in the agenda of the to do items was how to serve the coffee for  clients. I have taken fancy for the Verona blend of Starbucks coffee which has a bit of cocoa on it. I instructed the office manager to make sure only Verona blend is served and coffee was prepared through French press. One of our first clients was a congressman from Leyte whose term has ended and who asked his wife to run for the seat that he vacated. She appeared to have been cheated in the race so we filed a protest in her behalf. The couple came to the office  several  times and had coffee while we were discussing the case. We did not know each other before the engagement but we got to know each other well through those moments. I noticed that whenever coffee was served, his wife would have the task of putting milk and sugar on it. She would taste it before she would turn it over to her husband to drink.  Our firm was on the cusp of a breakout that year. We had few retainers and we were living from payroll to payroll. Their case provided us, however, with a steady cash flow that helped us make it that year. Many years later, Steve, one of the partners who handled their case. asked him why the former congressman chose our office to handle their case. He said it was because he liked our coffee. 


Soon, I landed an opportunity to be the Corporate Secretary of The Coffee Bean &Tea Leaf Philippines. It lasted for about four years as and I found Coffee Bean to be the classier place. I learned a lot from the company and I often requested to be paid in part with coffee. In 2011, Coffee Bean introduced its concept of pod coffee machines. I was excited about the product that I bought two machines, one for the office and one for the house. Later, I realized they had allotted free machines for members of the Board, but I had already mine and didn't mind spending for it. The great part about it was I could have espresso shots whenever I wanted one. When I first had an espresso, I thought I couldn’t handle it. It was far too bitter a drink to handle. But it was quick. 


So I developed a ritual on drinking espresso, pairing it with a glass of cold water:   First, smell the aroma of the espresso. Drink the water to prepare the mouth. Take a sip of the espresso. Drink water. Then, finish the espresso. Done. And then,  drink water to clean it up. Beautiful. Espresso shots had a way of shooting straight up to the brain to generate the energy that I crave. 



7. Chocolate again 



Inay and Tatay died in 1996 and 1997 respectively. My Mom passed away too in 2014. My family, including Celeste and my four kids, had only been to Pola twice since I got married, so I brought every one home for All Soul’s day in 2014. When we got home,the house made of Narra had not changed at all.  I told my kids how one day I came home to find Inay making chocolates from the fruits of the cacao tree. I showed them the table where Tatay had placed the grinder with a screw and where the last step for making chocolate was done. I opened the drawers of the table and suddenly I found it, the old grinder. It was rusty but all its parts were in place. It only needs to get cleaned and it is ready to make chocolate again just like in the summer of 1987.


In 2015, my wife, Ma. Celeste, and I are in our mid-forties and have taken to morning jogs at the grounds of the University of the Philippines. As early as in our 30s, we have  figured that a lethargic lifestyle is not good for our aging bodies and a solution is to try to exercise regularly. One day after our morning jog, we noticed a new Chinese Restaurant near Quezon Avenue, Lido. It turned out to be owned by some friends of ours from college, Eric and Alvin. 


I felt like having chocolate that day instead of the usual coffee, so I ordered chocolate. The chocolate arrived with a small cup of milk, which I readily poured into the chocolate. It was different in a brilliant kind of way. I told Celeste, if this were steak, this would be perfectly marbled. I thought this drink had the right balance between chocolate and fat content. It's like premium ice cream. And this drink has made me think again that chocolate is for special days. I can't have this everyday because it is too sinful. But I'd like to have this every now and then. 


Recently, my cousin, Jade, who now works in my firm brought chocolates from Pola and prepared it in the office by boiling it with water in the rice cooker. We served it to a new client who liked it so much that he asked for another cup. My client came once more to the office and he asked again if we had chocolate which unfortunately ran out. Then, I thought of our first major client, the congressman who chose us because of our coffee. I thought maybe I should stock up on that chocolate to keep this new client? 



8. The Doctrine of Eternal Return


I still can't decide whether my earliest memory was coffee or chocolate. The legend of Kaldi, the Ethiopian goat herder, who is credited for discovering coffee from the 10th century is a younger tale compared to the 3,100 year old history of chocolate from the Aztecs.  But history has a sort of disclaimer. It cannot claim which came first, coffee or chocolate. All it can say is what is supported by historical evidence which can be overturned as more research is done. Who can possibly tell which drink the first human beings took?


I drink coffee everyday, but chocolate makes any day special. Perhaps, it is both. This is how it has always been. In the cycle of sunrise and sunset, we keep in tune with this rhythm, we have coffee to pepper our day. We are satisfied with it but on special days we have chocolate. We live like my Dad's steel contraption swinging back and forth in a corner of his office day in and day out. And we find ways to preoccupy ourselves on how to make our coffee, boiled, drip method, French press, instant, or pod style for it is  our nourishment. And  still we’re finding more ways to make it, for there is no limit  on how our minds can create the methods to help us do the same task over  and over. "Finity" fills "Infinity" with repetition. And still,  chocolate is our alternative, our special treat, the one that  makes the ordinary different. And we live by it, make it, and share it with family and friends. 


Of course, it would be disrespectful of Nietzsche if we say eternal recurrence is simply about drinking coffee or chocolate everyday. The mystery is that somewhere sometime I already wrote this essay about my life with coffee and chocolate trying to find out where it began,  and I am writing  it again, charting the same thoughts every moment, everywhere, and somehow going back to where I started, not quite achieving the purpose of this quest, but finding out more interesting things than just coffee or chocolate. 


We can look at it as a curse, a boring way to spend a morning, an evening, or forever. It's all the same, like the house in Pola or the names of the people we encounter in our lives. Nothing happens. It is the cycle of Sisyphus repeatedly pushing the rock over the cliff which comes rolling down again as soon as it's there. Coffee and chocolate could be just the props for this farce. They mean nothing and stand for nothing, which only shows that, no matter how far we have gone, we have never been anywhere and we are staying where we are. Salvation never comes.


But we can accept it as our destiny, for something is there to nourish us and it isn't dreary because even if it's just coffee, it's never the same coffee. There are permutations of blends, and methods of brewing it that makes a different experience every time. And on special days, there is chocolate. And our chocolate gets better, even if the process of extracting from the seeds of the fruit has never changed. Thinking about my first cup of coffee, or was it chocolate(?), in the old Narra house and the things that happened thereafter shows that the possibilities are endless, even if things are just repeating. Nietzsche said it was amor fati, the love and acceptance of our fate. I asked Ma. Celeste, as I showed her the mirror trick I used to do as kid, "would you make the same decision to marry me if you knew you would have to make the same decision through out eternity?" She stared at me as if amused by the question, smiled, and said, "Of course!" The Sisyphus who is pushing the rock is tired, but as long as he is smiling, does it matter?


Or we can look at it the Fr. Roque Ferriols way. We live like the current that moves from point A to point B then pulses back to point A and point B that is repetitive, yet something happened in this repetition. I  became the toddler of Tatay and Inay, the son of my Mom and  Dad, the husband of my wife Ma. Celeste, the father of my kids, the friend of my classmates, and lawyer of my clients. We celebrate our lives with coffee and chocolate in the here and now, limited by time and space which we navigate to and fro, and if we live the same lives over and over again, aren't we blessed?  Someone's hand, not quite like Inay's gentle hand that stirred the cocoa beans above the light heat, is not only keeping us in sync with the rhythm of the universe, but also sustaining us. And we found peace, friendship, and love. As long as the swinging goes on, coffee-chocolate, generation after generation, we should be grateful and happy to be around.  Sana wala na ngunit meron. 

118. Sen. Jovy Salonga and his Three Chairs

Sen. Jovy Salonga was the commencement speaker when I graduated from the Ateneo School of Law twenty years ago. Coming out of law school with  a dream of starting a rather late adult life -- I considered law school as a leave of absence from life -- I left the graduation rites that afternoon with the images of three chairs in my memory. Sen. Salonga was quoting Henry David Thoreau, who said, "I had three chairs in my house; one for solitude, two for friendship, three for society." The images never left my head, and I have lived trying to set my life in this frame that Sen. Salonga had suggested from Thoreau. Sen. Salonga died a few days ago and I realized most of us only know him from his third chair.  In 1991, I read an essay by Conrado de Quiros on why the Salonga-Pimentel team deserved the presidency and the vice-presidency because they earned it from their work fighting martial law, and I decided to spend the summer of my second year in law school campaigning for Salonga-Pimentel. I also remember Sen. Salonga beaming with pride as he displayed a copy of the Foreign Investments Act before a television crowd. The law was passed while he was the Senate President.  

He claimed that it was a landmark legislation that would propel the Philippine economy. I must say that I regularly refer to it as our office advises foreign investors in the Philippines. It is a well written law that allows the President some leverage on directing investments to specific industries through the Negative List.  If we whispered thank you for every dollar that was brought in through that law, it would probably be louder than the loudest rock star crowd one could ever gather. But nobody ever did and Sen. Jovy never asked for anything in return, except that we vote for him so he can serve us more. Sen. Jovy Salonga did not become president, but I would never forget our graduation day when he came to speak about the three chairs. It is a special reason to be forever grateful for this great man from whose wisdom as a leader the Filipinos have all benefitted. Thank you Sen.Jovy Salonga. May you rest in peace. 

117. Apple, Privacy, and the State (6)

It's hard to say the state cannot touch a convict's mind, especially if that mind plotted against the state. But the test between the liberal and the conservative is precisely at this hairline boundary. Let's assume first that the state has the ability to open up a criminal's brain and find out from its parts the data that it needs to uncover the plots and conspiracies in the criminal's mind. While at it, the state might as well find out how to turn this criminal into a Buddhist so it won't kill any living being. All of a sudden, the promise of peace is in the horizon;  what with all the criminals in the world becoming Dalai Lama adherents? But is that how we want to do it? Every criminogenic mind becoming a Buddhist? The state tweaking people's brains? Yet, what if the state becomes good at this tweaking job and to prevent revolution and reform, it does it to everyone who has problems with the status quo? The citizens would lose their power over the state, such that the citizens would be the beings of the state. It's not going ro be pretty. Speculation? No, its applying Nietshche's will to power. The state would do everything for power, its actions would be dictated by its desire for more power. Humanity will not stand a chance if it allows the state to encroach the data in the human mind. So, the state should never be allowed to access the human mind, regardless if it's the mind of the most notorious criminal. 

116. Apple, Privacy, and the State (5)

Exploring the brain is not equivalent to controlling it. In the context of the Art of War, however, assuming we consider the tension between the state and the individual as a state of war, exploring is intelligence gathering, which is the key to victory. When Sun Tsu says be like water which follows the curvatures and holes of whatever it contains, he is talking about intelligence gathering in the context of war. So, if we allow the state to explore the inner workings of the brain, we are empowering the state to defeat the citizen's brain in the event that the state and the citizen ends up in a conflict like a war. Nietzsche would agree that to know the brain is to have power over the brain. Should we allow the state to have power over our individual brains? No. It's an Orwellian scenario I'm painting, but this is  pretty much what will happen to us if we allow the state to be governed by paranoia and empower it take over our brains. Thus, the state should never know what is in our brains. The physical matter? Sure, in the interest of science. But it should never have access to our thoughts. It should never know how, why, and what we think. It's our last inch of power against the state. If we give up that little space, we give up our freedom. We give up our humanity. We become mere creatures of the state.

115. Apple, Privacy, and the State (4)

There is a Gary Larson cartoon which depicts a couple awake in bed in the middle of the night and the wife holding a pillow with which she apparently hit her husband's head.  The husband is muttering, "I'm not responsible for what I do in your dreams." And I won't explain that further in order not to kill the humor, but move straight with an event I remember from our law school days. Manuel Morato, then Chair of the Movie TV Radio Classification Board, was brandishing his idea to the law school lot about his legislative proposal for his agency to have the power to approve movie scripts before they are actually made into movies. I was outraged by the proposal which explains why I still remember that incident. Censor scripts before they are made into movies, this is a proposal for mind control after the dictatorship has fallen in the Philippines. Morato's bill never made it into law, but you'll never know, as the old guard of morality is hovering around the portals of power. The point is the state should never be allowed to control the inner workings of a citizen's mind. It is the most private of a person's private domain, the last frontier where the individual can assert his individuality and humanity against the state. In the citizen's mind, the citizen and the state are equal. It is where free will resides and it is only through the exercise of the free will by citizens that a state can exist. The state does not exist by itself; it exists because citizens with free will decide that they want the state to exist. Thus, the state should not encroach on the domain where a person's free will resides -- the citizen's brain. This is the core of the right to privacy, the human brain. It should be off limits to the state, now and forever, a categorical imperative that saves the citizen and the state as well. So, Apple it's not about the customer. It's about the citizen. 

114. Apple, Privacy, and the State (3)

Let me start by saying that my iPhone is an extension of my brain. Of course, the extension is not physical, albeit I do not think that can be discounted in the foreseeable future. Everything on my IPhone came from my brain. It has the data from my brain, the names of the people I deal with, my conversations with them, my correspondences, even drafts of my intended communications, drafts of my thoughts, blogs, ideas, notes, images not just of people, but also places and institutions. Not only does my iPhone have my brain's data, my iPhone also does some of my brain functions, like keeping my memories, communications, mathematical  calculations, brain mappings, even logical circuits for logical thinking. It is part of my brain. The phone does not have my entire brain, but a lot of my brain functions have been outsourced to my iPhone. As a matter of fact, if I lose my phone, I'd be crippled. It would probably take me more than a month to get a normal life, and I would need another iPhone to do it. Somebody said what technology extends, it amputates. That is a fair statement and sadly my brain functions that have been extended to the iPhone have sort of mortified. I cannot add or subtract without an iPhone, neither can a write a freaking sentence or a paragraph without the iPhone. I cannot remember what day it is in the week without looking at the iPhone or remember what I'm supposed to do tomorrow without my iPhone.  Thus, the iPhone is indeed an extension of my brain. I have a feeling this is the case  with a lot of other people, especially those with iPhones. So, I'm saying for some people, and they could be a lot, the iPhone is an extension of their brains. Thus, if the government messes with my iPhone, it's messing up part of my brain.  Now, Apple why are you not arguing it this way, you capitalist pig? 

113. Apple, Privacy, and the State (2)

In the previous paragraph, we said Apple's stand on the right to privacy is motivated by its promise of privacy to its customers. By approaching the issue this way, Apple is doomed, legally and morally, so to speak. For all intents and purposes a private contractual obligation is subject to compelling state interests and this has been carved out in the jurisprudence on the US Constitution and probably in the Constitutions of other countries as well. It's the same idea that underlies the prohibition on trading of illicit goods, such as drugs and other contraband. The freedom to contract is limited by what the State permits as legitimate contracts. Thus, by anchoring its objections to the order to decrypt on a contractual obligation, Apple is headed to defeat. Even if we do the test of the categorical imperative on the clash of values between state security and inviolability of private contracts, there is no contest that state interest would prevail for it can be argued that  the right of the state to protect itself against illegal contracts, especialy those which jeopardizes the state's existence, is fundamental. Without the state, there would be no room for rights, as there would be no social order. 

112. Apple, Privacy, and the State (1)

Apple refuses to decrypt a terrorist's iPhone because of privacy concerns in spite of an order from a court which is ordering it for national security reasons. Let's be Kantians for a while and tackle the issue as a purely secular problem. Apple is arguing that the universality of the right to privacy applies even to criminals whose purpose is to kill people in support of a political or social agenda. Kant's categorical imperative urges people to act only according to the maxim by which people can at the same time will that it should become a universal law. Apple seems like it is acting like the American hero, protecting the right to privacy of everyone, good or bad people alike, because it believes in privacy. Yet, the Apple statement anchors its position on privacy on the customer-businessman relationship of trust. It has  sworn that its customer's data is private and therefore it would stand by it, regardless if one of it's customer turns out to be a terrorist. In effect, Apple is putting forth two things on the table: (1) the universality of the value that compels it to honor its word to its customers which binds its to 2) protect the universality of the right to privacy of its customers. Yet, the way Apple words its statement appears to be that were it not for the promise of privacy, it would have honored the court order. Tim Cook says, "Our commitment to protecting your privacy comes from a deep respect for our customers. We know that your trust doesn't come easy. That's why we have and will always work as hard as we can to earn and keep it." Thus, if we break down this dilemna further, it appears not to be about privacy but about the promise of customer experience. In other words, it's really what about they promised the customer. Aye, there's the rub. My iPhone sucks at battery life and I'm hunting down the  Apple marketing material that addresses the promise of how my battery would work and pin down Apple to it for a breach of its promise, the point being, this is not about the right to privacy, but a play for more iPhone customers -- hey look at us, we would defy the US Government for you and your iPhone dollars.  Baloney.  Where is the fun in that? But for the next paragraph, let's assume Apple is sincere...

111. The Eternal Warrior

The Lakers were playing the Spurs Friday night (Saturday morning in Manila) and I arrived home just in time to watch the last two quarters. I wasn't expecting the Lakers to win, but at the very least I wanted them to give a good fight. The Lakers were down by a few possessions and I decided to hang around and see if this game would be one of those come from behind wins for the Lakers. Everytime the Lakers are playing the Spurs, I always remember the magical Fisher shot, 0.4 second shot in the 2005 play-offs that gave the Lakers the 74-73 win. I've always wished I would see that moment reincarnated in every NBA game I watch, especially with a Lakers-Spurs match. But Saturday was different. Down by 5 late in the fourth quarter, the Lakers needed a basket to stay in the game. Kobe took a three point shot that bounced off the rim, and Brandon Bass tapped him the rebound. Kobe reached down the floor, and I saw him wince. He ran after the ball but didn't try to get it;  he was just protecting it from a Spur who might run a fastbreak on it as it went out of bounds near the Spurs bench. Kobe then clutched his hand. The announcers speculated that he might have hurt his finger, but his face was expressionless. Gary Vitti, the Lakers's trainer, approached him and they were talking nonchalantly.  Then, Gary held Kobe's right hand as Kobe bowed. Gary appeared to be pulling the hand while looking away and Kobe jerked as if in sudden pain. Then, Gary tapped Kobe's head saying something like, you'd be fine. And just like that, Kobe was back on the floor. No nothing happened. Apparently, Kobe dislocated his right middle finger and asked Gary to put it back in place. In the ensuing possession, Kobe scored on a lob shot. The effort would be fruitless however as the Spurs pulled away.  The Spurs won 119-113 but Kobe owned the night. I got what I wanted to see, a good fight from the Lakers. Yet, more than that, I realized I have learned another lesson in life. What you're gonna do if you dislocate a finger? Ask someone to pull it back in place and carry on. No whining. No cursing. No blaming. As Stoic as can be. Like many other injuries or setbacks in life, get it healed or get it fixed and carry on. With my aging body at forty-five, I would be injury prone and sickness prone too, but I'd take it from Kobe in his last game with the Spurs, leave it to the experts, take it all in style, and carry on. As Stoic as can be. 

110. Debates are useless

The logic of adversity is the logic of deceit. That's why debates hardly ferret out the truth. Candidates put in adversarial positions are going to slug it out like roosters in a cockfight, each one vying to be the best in sync with the metrics set by the organizers of the debate. The casualty is the truth. Let's have a dialogue instead. Put the candidates in their most relaxed state, tell them there are no grades, no one gets credit for anything, let them put their best ideas on the table, and let them decide which ideas the winners of this elections would push. It's one country after all. No more debates. Let's have a dialogue. 

109. Homo

My metaphysics teacher, Fr. Roque Ferriols, S. J., used to digress a lot from his daily lecture topics to inject his views on social issues, and more often than not he held the unpopular view. One morning he was raging about contraception and his principal argument was that the reproductive purpose of sex should not be divorced from its pleasures. They go together in the human body's sexuality, pleasure and conception, otherwise it was a subversion of man's sexuality. I never heard him speak about homosexuality and I am tempted to predict his opinion based on the same premise of his argument against contraception. Instead, I would use the same premise to argue that homosexuality may be a threat to human existence.  A human homosexual union would not produce an offspring. If everyone becomes a homosexual, conception of a baby would become a medical procedure. This is a consequence of  sex divorced from reproduction. Nobody would get pregnant unless a doctor intervenes. In other words, if homosexuality becomes the norm, humanity will not stand a chance of surviving. Now, I'm going to invite bashers here who would take shreds of this argument and bloat it out of proportions. But, at least, keep this premise intact: human sexuality cannot be divorced from its reproductive purpose.  It is not just a Catholic view, it's also the teleological view. I am betting, however, that homo sapiens have superior intellect and we should be able to direct our erotic desires to return to heterosexuality when homosexuality has become the norm and has shown that is indeed a threat to humanity. In the meantime, when homosexualty is enjoying its reputation of being the revolutionary idea, the human telos is in crisis. 

108. Conspicuous Consumption in Social Media

Purely theory and nothing personal folks: social media has become the platform for displaying conspicuous consumption. When we post our expensive meals on instagram, or our recent trip to Disneyland in our Facebook timeline, or our new gadget conquests, aren't we doing it to elicit envy? Perhaps, we are genuinely happy and grateful about our blessings, but shouldn't we be sensitive about how others might think? Thorstein Veblen observed that in an American neighborhood in the 1920s people buy stuff they don't need to make others envious of their social status, and I'd like to believe FB, Instagram, and Twitter, are virtual neighborhoods of the 21st Century. The advent of digital photography and smartphone apps that make it easy to display our simple pleasures, which to others, might be more complex and expensive, have made us insensitive about how others might feel seeing us with our trophies as we climb social brackets. But it pays to be cautious about these things, lest things get out of hand. We might not be intending it, but with each upload of those expensive stuff, like Bryan Poe-Llamansarez's Marty Macfly Nikes, we are falling into the world that Thorstein Veblen observed. Fine, if you're not prepared to agree, but at least be wary of the tax lady, Kim Henares. 

107. Name a Book that Changed Your Life

Pambungad sa Metapisika by Roque Ferriols, S.J. is that book. An intellectual adventure can ruin you, but this one would always ground you and keep you from sliding to extremes. I have been blessed to have encountered this book in my studies, as it had sufficiently armed me for a lifelong path of critical thinking. What wisdom can there be in a statement that goes, after having said everything that can be said, the most important thing has not been said? Beyond concepts, words, and  abstractions is being, and it is in the pursuit of being, after reading this book, that I have decided to chart my life and resources. The book tamed my intellectual conceitedness, which is the common weakness among beginning thinkers, as it introduces the reader early in Socrates's words, "I know that I know nothing." When any activity, intellectual or orherwise, begins with this premise and attitude, there is hope for dialogue and peace in the world. 

106. Not by Bread Alone

The peasants have no bread? Give them yeast and flour. Teach them to make dough. Government should build community ovens and supply the fuel. The bakeries will go out of business, but the people will never go hungry. They will have bread, of their own baking, for breakfast, dinner, and lunch, even for a midnight snack, or a snack at any time of the day. Marcos had a similar idea with the nutri-buns. But only the bakers made money, and the children, no longer hungry at the belly, were hungry for Voltes V. So, Corazon Aquino ignored the nutri-bun project, and gave them democracy. Voltes V returned and we finally learned it's a rip off from the history of the French Revolution. And we face the hunger problem again with babies getting nourishment from coffee creamers made with cornstarch instead of milk. So, I propose the community oven. The government supplies the materials for dough, keeps the oven burning, and mothers will bake bread for their kids. Yet, bread is not enough. 

105. Ave Maria

Getting inspiration from National Geographic's December 2015 issue which featured an impressive article on Mother Mary in history, I drew up a playlist in Spotify called "Ave Maria". I have so far listed 22 songs.

The most familiar song in the list is Bach's Prelude No. 1, which has been recorded by Pavarotti, Bocelli, the Vienna Boys' Choir, and Yo Yo Ma. Franz Schubert's Ave Maria is particularly meditative and Pavarotti's version sends a certain chill down the spine. The Three Tenors' version is in there too, but Pavarotti's powerful voice shows he really owns this song. Bocelli's version of Guilio Caccini's Ave Maria is amazing, and it is the kind of song that sticks to your head, as the two words "Ave" and "Maria" go up and down the scale, while you go about your day uncertain of things but assured someone like your mother has got your back. Charlotte Church and Julian Lloyd Webber have their versions, and if you put the three versions on repeat shuffle, the day is fully covered. A note in Wikipedia says it was actually Vladimir Vavilov who first published it and credited it to "Anonymous" in 1970. But subsequently after his death, someone credited it to Caccini. It has since become very famous worldwide. I can understand why this is so because the beautiful melody highlights the singer's range and tone and the simple lyrics gives it a hook that stays with the listener forever. I have listed three Filipino songs from the Jesuit Community's Bukas Palad. My personal favorite is Stella Maris which my wife, Maria Celeste, sang in the last night of the wake of her late grandmother Maria Corazon. I've often wondered how this song will sound without a sophisticated choral and instrumental arrangement, but just a duet, harp or guitar and a flute, accompanying a soprano. I will be on a hunt for more Ave Maria songs, and I hope to make this a gesture of my lifetime devotion to Mother Mary. The Spotify link to the playlist is here: https://open.spotify.com/user/12136842473/playlist/3MX4tEc1iDwMkt4jAGESqB

Update: The list is now up to 38 songs as of Feb 13, 2016.

104. Ash Wednesday

Ash Wednesday means we are all going to die. When a priest crosses ashes on our foreheads, he mumbles the words, "Remember that dust you are, and to dust you shall return,” which comes from Genesis 3:19. As a kid reared in a Catholic upbringing I have often found this disconcerting. Youth kept my mind off mortality, and my energy, I was sure, was not go going to give up suspending entropy. Indeed, it is unlikely that a kid will have a death mindset, and yet every year the Ash Wednesday service puts it on my head, physically and symbolically -- I'm going  to die. This reminder of death, however, forshadows Christ's death on Good Friday, and hope beyond death as preached in Easter Sunday, when Christ's resurrection is celebrated. This year as I go on my 46th year on this earth, Ash Wednesday, speaks to me more clearly of death and pain, which is no longer a remote eventuality. I will die, as everyone will, sooner than later or later than sooner, but more certain than certainly. It is time to embrace life and welcome its challenges and pains as it is time too to embrace death and welcome its promise of renewal. 

103. Scene in search of a story

The man was tied to a hospital bed, diagnosed with terminal cancer, weak, but able to communicate. His friend travelled a long way to be with him. As his friend stood before him and he, a weak septuagenarian in contrast with his past as a warlord of his town, said, "Friend, no matter how large the ocean,  I realize it has limits."

His friend was quiet as the words were spoken. 

"I told you before, we should not abuse our power."

Silence. 

"But it's too late."

Silence.

"I don't have much time to live. I would not last two weeks."

Silence.

And the memory of the crime for which the man was jailed and tied to his hospitable bed was the unspoken word that engulfed them. No one could speak.

"I never approached you when you were up there. I knew it would be trouble. But I am here now, my friend, to visit you because you are sick. I pray we will see other again."

Silence.

The friend kissed him on his forehead and quitely left the room.

102. Apple and Its Strategy of Feeding on Our Conspicuous Consumption

When I started using a Mac in 2005, I was finally relieved of the viruses that plagued Windows. I thought I joined the elite group of computer enthusiasts who could afford to blow 100 grand on a white machine.  I often sneered at my fellow lawyers who continued to toil on what I perceived as inferior products of Apple's competitors, and I enjoyed listening to MacCast, a podcast exclusively on Apple products. This feeling of superiority is the same feeling that Thorstein Veblen observed in his Theory of the Leisure Class, where he hypothesized that people of leisure consume not because of need but because of the want to be better than their neighbors. Well, I don't belong to the leisure class as I have to toil day and night to keep body and soul together, but I think that indeed, conspicuous consumption has been prevalent in this age of technology, where everyone is in a race to have the fastest, spunkiest, coolest, and often most expensive gadget in the world. Within months I have accumulated six IBooks, one MacBook Air, three IMacs, and two MacMinis. I've assigned the lBooks and MacMinis to the associates and staff in the office and used the IMacs and MacBook for work. We were probably the only virus free law firm in the country. But soon enough, Apple was updating its  operating system in rapid succession, and the Apple system I have in the office was outdated in less than two years. Suddenly, the threat of computer viruses has been replaced by an even more serious threat of absolecense. With this trend I reckoned, our office would have to spend more than half a million pesos on Apple computers every two years, which is too much, considering we only use the computers for word processing and email. Yet, I caught Apple's strategy early enough: Apple is going to dump us with new and cool stuff every six months, feeding our propensity for conspicuous consumption, and blurring our vision on how much money we should be spending on its gadgets, which we will take away from other items in our budget such as wellness and health. Thus, before Apple could make more moves to convince us that our old Macs are no longer cool, we shifted back to Windows, which  is no longer prone to viruses, at least for the moment. But Apple is unrelenting. The strategy of preying on people's propensity for conspicuous consumption is also employed on iPhones, which  went from  small to big, thick to thin, and which   was originally a music hard drive that grew antennas and became phones and internet  devices. This has got to stop. People shouldn't be blowing serious money on smartphones every year. Unfortunately, we all fall into this magical daze whenever Apple has a new product, and like the kids lured by the Pied Piper of Hamelin, we follow Apple's lead and, in exchange for a year of gadget bliss, we give it our money in reckless abandon.

101. Rizal's Memory

In that story by Jorge Luis Borges, Shakespeare's memory is transferred from one person to another through a telephone call. The premise sounds preposterous at first impression but Borges executes it well and the possibilities of  Shakespeare's memory inhabiting a modern human brain becomes entertaining and profound. I have been toying around with Borges's scheme and have wondered whose brain from my own memory of historical characters would be cool and handy in 2016. Let's imagine Rizal's brain, for example, which would be relevant to smoothen out some blurred lines on his biography, such as his recantation. Perhaps, Rizal's brain can be asked to finish his third novel, Makamisa. Maybe he can even do a review of his, "Mi Ultimo Adios," or at least give it his own title. It may be of interest to Rizal enthusiasts, but we must also be wary of the torments that lurk in his memory -- his dead baby, his aging parents, the revolution that he spurred which led to his execution, and  his sweet stanger, Josephine Bracken, whom he left behind a young widow. As in Borges's story, the amusement tapers off when the host realizes, it's not going to be easy. We don't want to do this. Beautiful Borges story. Let's keep it at that.

100. Campaign Finance Issues: Why no independent election expense?

In Ejercito v. COMELEC (G.R. No.212398 November 25, 2014), Ejercito argued that an election borne by a political supporter without the knowledge and consent of the candidate should not be counted against the candidate's expense limit. The Supreme Court said, however, that in this jurisdiction the concept of independent election expense is not applicable. Thus, a political advertisement worth more than Php 23 M, which Ejercito claimed was paid for by a supporter, was deemed as overspending against Ejercito's limit of barely Php 4.5 Million, leading to his disqualification. As a matter of fact, Section 4 Rule V of Comelec Resolution No. 9991 known as the Omnibus Rules on Campaign Finance, requires all political expenditures to bear the written consent of the candidate or the political party. What is the implication? If, for example, I print on my own volition my advocacy for the presidency of Allan Carreon, the intergalactic ambassador, I would need Allan Carreon to sign off on it, otherwise I have just committed an election offense. Further, whatever money I spent on the sticker is charged to Allan Carreon's election expense limit. Poor guy. If the Martians decide to bankroll his campaign without his knowledge, he could be disqualified not as a nuisance but as an election overspender, like Ejercito in 2013. 

99. Back to the Past

At the January 5, 2016 conference for adoptees, adoptive families, and foundlings, human rights lawyer Glenda Itong said that she found the Royal Decree issued by King Charles IV in February 19, 1794 extending legal protection to foundlings. The decree was effective in all of Spain's colonies, including the Philippines.

Subsequently, the Spanish Civil Code was enacted and the essence of King Charles IV's foundling decree was in the provision on Spanish citizens which deemed that all foundlings found in Spanish territory are deemed Spanish citizens. When the Philippine Civil Code was enacted in 1950, however, this provision on foundlings was left out in the text. Curiously, the Family Code which was enacted in 1987  also left this out. This makes me wonder how the best legal minds of the 50s, including Arturo Tolentino whose Annotations on the Civil Code are standard texts in law schools, missed it. The repealing clauses of the Spanish Civil Code, the 1950s Civil Code and the Family Code are expressed, such that the Family Code appears to be the actual state of the applicable law on foundlings, which sadly does not state anything. In Tecson v. Comelec, the Supreme Court said that "(A)n accepted principle of international law dictated that a change in sovereignty, while resulting in an abrogation of all political laws then in force, would have no effect on civil laws, which would remain virtually intact." Is it possible therefore to argue that the King Charles IV's Royal Decree on Foundlings is still good law? For, indeed, how can a new law repeal something and be totally silent on a specific provision and therefore discard a centuries old legal framework on the protection of perhaps the most vulnerable human beings on the planet? An entire vacuum has been left out and that leaves King Charles IV greatest achievement as King of Spain in the dustbin. As Justice Marvic Leonen asked in yesterday's oral arguments before the Supreme Court, "Are we called to be legalists, or are we called to be justices?" I'm sure Rizal would be turning in his grave if he learns that the Spanish Crown treated foundlings better than the sovereign Philippines. And Manuel L. Quezon, who preferred a government run like hell by Filipinos, would be cursing at the lawyers who messed up.

98. Natalie Cole

I used to joke around with the lyrics and burst into song, "I craze you like miss you." I drove other people crazy indeed. I was a teen-ager and played the piano for long hours with the old reliable Jingle Song Book Magazine. I was particularly amused with the shifting of the keys in  "Miss You Like Crazy"  and would play it endlessly through the night.  But more than that I was proud to be a Natalie Cole fan. The lady had class, and the bonus was she was Nat King Cole's daughter. Her pinnacle of success came when she did the duets with her late dad's recordings, which was technically marvelous. They sounded like fresh recordings. That was a magical feat considering how Nat King Cole's old recordings sounded on CDs -- they sounded really old.  But the duets with Natalie made them sound new. And I'm not just saying new in the sense of bit rate but also in the sense of artistry. Yet, Natalie Cole soon drifted away from the recording scene. Meanwhile, I graduated from law school and soon found a job, I had more freedom to pursue my musical interests. But there was no new Natalie Cole album in the late 90s and 2000s. So, I indulged instead in Pavarotti, Bocelli, Louis Armstrong, Silje Nergaard, Sting, True Faith, The Dawn,  Rivermaya, Eraserheads, and a lot more, including the boxed set of The Beatles.  Then, about three years ago, a new Natalie Cole album popped out of the iTunes store. It was her Spanish album, which was the first recording she's had in many years. I downloaded the songs immediately, and for several months, it was the only album on my playlist. I listened to it while waiting in traffic, jogging, reading, waiting for the airplane, and whenever I wanted to lift my spirits. Listening  to familiar songs in another language opens us to the various creative possibilities in life and awakens us to humanity's immense capacity for enjoyment of familiar things. Perhaps, it's just Natalie Cole, the cool mezzo-soprano with that precise diction and clarity of tone.  Who knows? I learned that the songs in the Spanish album were originally Spanish songs but were popular in their English translations. Natalie Cole actually recorded those songs in their original Spanish versions in 2013 and made them sound they were new. Sadly, she had a drug problem, which  was the reason why she stopped recording after those years doing duets with her dad's recorded voices. When she came back with her Spanish album, it was a triumph not only against the drug menace but also against the temptation to wallow in dark obscurity. Indeed, after a string of successes, dark obscurity is tempting and easy, but she came back and it was good. Unfortunately, she is gone now.  Natalie Cole -- she's never going to make old songs sound new again. But I'm thankful for having had the privilege of listening to her in this life. Rest in peace Natalie Cole. 

97. What is your most prized possession?

Time. This is such a limited resource, and  I have to cram my life into it. A big chunk of it I give to my family and friends, an equally sized chunk for work, and a much smaller one for recreation. The rest I have to allot for exigencies that come my way. Unfortunately, not everything I spend time  on is worth it, and sometimes I cannot tell.  For whom would I give up my life? Coincidentally, I have the same answer as above. I would give it up for the same people I spend my time on and in the same order.  As for material possessions, my books are all I have. I have them everywhere in my house and in my office. I've started collecting books as a kid when travelling back and forth my hometown, Pola, Or. Mindoro, gave me lots of time to read in the long commute. Now,  I also have books in my Kindle and Audible apps in my phone. 

Specifically, if I have to travel for a month, I would bring the fiction anthology of Jorge Luis Borges and David Foster Wallace's Infinite Jest. These are books I keep going back to for the past five years and probably for many more years to come. If I lose them, I would not get affected at all. After all, I only need these books when I have time to burn. And indeed, I've lost them more than once before. Luckily, Jorge Luis Borges would turn up again in an old suitcase or knapsack. And David Foster Wallace -- I would buy him again, which is what I did this Christmas when I realized I may find some time to read during the break. Regarding free will and destiny, I have long concluded that it is a foolish enterprise to determine if we make our own destiny or God has provided us with definite paths and conclusions. The brains that could comprehend the complexity of this mystery do not belong to humans. So I tread along in life observing, waiting to be amazed by what turns up every now and then, and grateful for all this energy and time. 

This is a reply to F. Sionil Jose's blog post, http://www.fsioniljose.com/blog/what-is-your-most-prized-possession. Frankie's Two Filipino Women, which he later released as Three Filipino Women, was the first Filipino fiction I read. I was a twelve year old kid then and unfortunately too young to understand it. But words and images from the book would turn up in my dreams -- like Cadena de Amor and Pobres Park. 

96. A vote for Mar Roxas is not a referendum on Aquino

Unless the Aquino fans want to break their hearts or their political strategists think people are really stupid, the idea that a vote for Mar Roxas is a referendum on the Aquino Presidency should be thrashed. It is not true. The PNoy magic is non-transferrable. The approval ratings and the polls have it. This is like the Ramos endorsement of Joe De Venecia in the 1998 elections. Ramos and JDV were called the jumping twins as they went around the country jumping together on stage in an attempt to share Ramos's winning moment with Joe during the early days of the Edsa Revolt when Ramos jumped for joy amidst the initially false information that Marcos has left. Bad myth, bad execution. JDV was an unknown in 1986 and people were more enamored with the idea that Erap would be president. Thus, whoever thought  Mar would be benefitted if they peddle around the idea that a vote for him is an affirmation of the PNoy Presidency should be sent his walking papers and  learn from the writers of Kalyeserye. As a matter of fact, people are suspicious that he may be leveraging government assets for his campaign. Further, people are not entirely happy with the  Aquino Presidency. Nobody is ecstatic about PNoy anymore. If you're Mar Roxas enjoying the President's endorsement, you're handicapped, because you're not expected to criticize the administration. But people want to hear criticism. They want change, they're tired of the finger-pointing system of PNoy. They want to hear somebody speak and say this is where PNoy made a mistake, so this is what should be fixed. If you can't do that, then you are nothing but a power-hungry sycophant. In Tagalog, sipsip. In my entire life electing people from grade school  elections, PTAs, political parties, local and national elections, the sipsips never win. So, bust the idea. PNoy is not equal to Mar. Mar is not equal to PNoy. 

95. Ms. Universe should have X-Men powers

and Mars should be represented. It's (wo)man's arrogance that we have these contests, and we call the winner with a name clearly too much for the feat. Allan Carreon, intergalactic ambassador, should have been a judge in that contest instead of presidential candidate about to be disqualified by the Commission on Eliminations. Everybody's talking about Steve Harvey's mistake in announcing Ms. Columbia as the winner, but nobody noticed the worst mistake of all, they did not invite anyone outside of the Milky Way Galaxy, not a word from another star, not even a text to the black holes. I wonder what Stephen Hawking has to say about this. So, congratulations to Pia Alonzo Wurtzbach, Ms. Philippines,  for winning. That was the most graceful way anyone won that title, but let's get this straight: the title Ms. Universe comes with an asterisk -- for want of human technology, no person outside of planet earth was consulted before this title was bestowed. 

94. #1 Defining Moment of the PNoy Administration: PNoy appoints J.Sereno as Chief Justice

I don't remember the position of Chief Justice of the Supreme Court being ever immune from politics. Teehankee wouldn't get appointed by Marcos despite his seniority. Cory Aquino would appoint him eventually after he administered her oath in one of the rare occasions that the republic had two presidents. Marcelo Fernan got appointed in exchange for his political work for Cory in Cebu. Narvasa got appointed for his work in the Agrava Commission. Erap appointed Davide as a favor to Lucio Tan. Panganiban was appointed by Gloria Arroyo for his active role in EDSA Dos and installing the acting President GMA. I'm still figuring out the story about CJ Reynato Puno, and I'm betting it's through his freemason connection as the freemasons led by then DPWH Sec. and former General Hermogenes Ebdane wielded considerable power and influence during the GMA years. When Puno retired, the post of chief justice was contested between J. Carpio and J. Corona, and GMA appointed J. Corona during the period in which midnight appointments were banned. The story is Carpio was punished, as it were, for that stinging ponencia in that PIRMA decision, which permanently shut down GMA's hopes of perpetuating herself to power. So, when Corona was impeached the big question was would the President appoint Carpio? There is no question Carpio had more gravitas. Carpio was in the mainstream pack of the legal profession. He was the founder of Carpio Villaraza and Cruz, which I would liken to the Bulls and Lakers dynasties combined in the NBA, having been plucked from obscurity by Fidel V. Ramos, leading the Estrada impeachment as well as prosecution, and having powerful government posts in the GMA era like the Department  of National Defense, Ombudsman and justice of the Supreme Court. Justice Sereno had a stellar career as well, albeit none in the judiciary. Unlike J. Carpio, she had no powerful organization backing her up like masons or a latin sounding fraternity or a law firm. All she had was a small religious organization. But Aquino appointed J. Sereno, a young jurist with no political or commercial backers. It's like one of those classic chess games in which Kasparov would offer a rook in exchange for apparently nothing and Topalov's jaw would drop. I'm still making sense of it, but one thing is sure, the appointment insulated the Supreme Court from the power brokers that dominated the judiciary for the last forty years. It's a shot to the future. Finally, no single law firm, lawyer, or litigant, can command an en banc review of settled cases at the whim of a single handwritten note, as Estelito Mendoza used to do. This is the single long lasting legacy of the PNoy Administration, a Supreme Court that would not be a rubber stamp for powerful competing interests in the republic. And Aquino would get what he wish for when the Sereno-led Supreme Court would overrule his Disbursement Acceleration Program (DAP) as unconstitutional. So stung was Aquino with the defeat that he went on a media rampage assailing the Supreme Court, but the deed is done. As CJ Sereno once said, "Excuse me, I don't serve Presidents."

93. #2 Defining Moment of the PNoy Administration: PNoy eliminates Marwan, sacrifices SAF 44

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92. #3 Defining Moment of the PNoy Admin: PNoy pursues the Spratlys claim

More than a claim for territorial rights, the Spratlys claim is about standing up to a regional bully. The geopolitical landscape has changed a lot since the Marcos years, and China has become a dominant force. The Arroyo regime flirted with this nation in more ways than one, what with NBN-ZTE deal almost coming to existence with bribery and corruption in all the high places. China has succeeded in dictating national policies, particularly the claim for the Spratlys. PNoy's decision to revive the Spratlys claim by commencing arbitration proceedings against China and rallying other asian nations against its expansionists tendencies is a big break from recent history. Never mind our poor military capability, for commencing the arbitration is a chance for the country to show the world that we are rational and non-violent people. The all star legal team sent to litigate the case before the Hague is positive we can win. Personally, I think it can go the way of Nicaragua vs. USA, which Nicaragua won but could not enforce. But we never know.

91. #4 Defining Moment of the PNoy Admin: The President signs the RH Law

I was against the RH Bill provision that allowed abortificients to be sourced and peddled with public funds. But I realize more than a population control measure, the RH Law was also about the State breaking up with the Church. There have been a lot of times that the Church was wrong, but the State cow-towed to it. The RH Law was one of at least two items that the Church has lobbied not to be inscribed in the annals of Philippine law, the other being divorce.   And so it happened, after intense debates, including the below the belt name-calling Team Patay employed by the parishes to label those pro-RH bill candidates running for the senate, the RH Law was passed and signed by the President. Lo and behold, the earth did not shake, nobody got struck by lightning, doomsday did not happen. The Churches "patay" scenarios did not come upon us. I still believe the State should not buy abortificients. But the RH Law is about statecraft, political will, and spending a lot of political capital. Whether it was a wise move is a matter that history would decide.