By: Iris P. Concepcion
I went to Luneta Park early this morning to see the mosaic of the woman who had brought back to our land the fruits of democracy. We should credit her for having returned the business climate of viability---we are a rumbunctious democracy but we owe a lot to this woman every dime we might have enjoyed in freedom after years and years of repressed periods in our history.
No, we did not expect, the guises and heads of monsters will run up quite innocently the second time around: in the balanced expertise of those who are tasked to police the ranks of this newly-found freedom. Had they failed, they must be reminded of their duties as citizens, first and foremost.
It was therefore severely tacky for one deposed host's comment when Cory was laid to rest to the effect that "his program is celebrating" so "do not show the funeral pics please."
I do not know why it did not incite a massive disciplinary action from his handlers: that was unforgivable to say the least. You put lipsynchers in pedestal more than the woman who just restored your power to write anything, including its distortions, and you are in for a severe picking.
Perhaps, the recent occurrences speak of the silent majority who decided to fight back that sense of wantonness and greed. I had said before: the gall. And we already know the reason now. It is shameful to be associated with this kind of misplaced principle. Very un-Filipino.
I often said, one must return to the roots why such abundance was achieved in the first place. At the new turn-out of events, several heads were axed and to the truly sensitive, they voluntarily exited from these bowls of trampling and desisted the mob call of having their heads exposed more. Good sense of acceptance is better than holding on to what is already sinking in hypocrisy.
The President's sister had said: We are cleaning up the house and like her brother, we do know, she too shall pass this, on top form, no less.
Cory must have a good thing in mind, up there in heaven. It is so her to have this kind of reverse chastisement even from up above, conversing with God. When one needs acts of contrition and you do not get it from the haughty, somehow, they are reminded in other forms why they must be shut down.
I went to watch the mosaic after it was rained out. Cory's pics had mud, litters and familiar faces walked on these pics, in shopping and travelling poses and it broke my heart seeing how short we are with our memories.
It was an apt installation. A helicopter was hovering overhead, a cable car in the land of paradise passed by, taking pictures with honesty, integrity, loyalty signs spread all over and I go: art's reimbursement for a severe lapse of judgment.
I shall credit the President's mother for my being able to write freely in this blog more than the hosts of blogger themselves. I learned my freedom through her. No mentor with Phds in marketing and communications can erase that kind of sanctity purposely defiled now by those who got madder by the teardrops of heavenly grace.
Thank you Corazon Aquino for showing what class is even in afterlife.
As I chose to be, so shall my words be.
(P.S. : My guy is sooooooo hilarious. Period.)