Men of Irony (sa Buwan ng Wika)

FOR those of you who don't know who he is, Representative Sergio Apostol is that new Liberal Party balimbing who quickly switched parties in post-election 2010---when Benigno Aquino III won the presidency---from the then-ruling Lakas Kampi CMD party where he was also a recurrent lawyer for then-embattled president Gloria Arroyo. (Himself, then, as evidence of the existence of ironic twists in things.) He is also of the Waray people from Leyte province, but is no stranger to the Tagalog-speaking National Capital Region, having been a national legislator since his ruling-Kilusang Bagong Lipunan party days in the Marcos-era Batasang Pambansa. What I mean to say in this paragraph is that I don't trust Sergio Apostol when he implies, as he did last August 24, that he can neither recognize Filipino as an official language (which he never seems to have had any problem with since his early days in the legislative halls, until now) nor understand it very well. I, too, am a Waray, by the way, and---though not as intelligent as Sergio Apostol---do understand Tagalog very well.
     But let's assume that Apostol speaks the truth, having myself been witness to Silliman University professors who could not speak/understand much Filipino, preferring to teach in English and sometimes in Cebuano. It's pretty common among Cebuano-language speakers to find this Tagalog-free culture among them, but must be a rarity among the Warays, who've mostly been friendly with the Tagalogs and their Tagalog radio dramas. But riding the assumption that Apostol truly cannot understand Tagalog very well would help us understand him when he tried to revive at past 5 in the afternoon of August 24 the debate or national issue around Filipino as an official language. Apostol was demanding---in English---that Representative Arlene "Kaka" Bag-ao (Akbayan Citizens' Action Party) answer Apostol's interpellation, on the pending and controversial RH Bill, in English instead of in Tagalog/Filipino. Although at first the two lawyers argued over Filipino's current position as an official language, with Deputy Majority Floor Leader Magtanggol Gunigundo (Lakas Kampi CMD) insisting that it is an official language and presiding officer Maria Isabelle Climaco Salazar (Liberal) ruling that the parties can proceed in whatever language they choose to use, and with Apostol later threatening to demand an interpreter if Bag-ao does not relent, Bag-ao did finally agree to answer the interpellation in English. But not without Apostol's stance's being called deplorable by party-list representative Antonio Tinio (ACT Teachers), which speech Apostol promptly rebutted in plenary session. (Read the ABS-CBN report here)


COINCIDENTALLY, an essay titled "Language, Learning, Identity, Privilege" was posted by Manila Bulletin Newspaper Online writer James Soriano at 4:06 AM, also on August 24. The essay would get much more notice among Facebook aficionados than Apostol's rant, I'd say with about half of its readers agreeing with the author and the other half getting quite offended.
     The essay presented (once again) the reality about the English language as that language used by the privileged class in our country. But ironically also as the language of learning, as the most used language medium of education as well as in the textbook/book/newspaper/magazine publishing industries. Ironically, I say, for isn't education presumably one of the state's activities geared towards socializing learning instead of propping up elitism on a social pedestal? The real situation of the Filipino language, on the other hand, was also presented in the essay as that intra-social class everyday-medium of communication used in the streets and on free TV, but largely ignored by both the education system as well as by the law profession and the corporate boardrooms. There's another irony there, for isn't the legal practice meant to serve justice for all instead of justice for a privileged few? And isn't it funny that boardrooms argue in English over their advertising materials in Tagalog? . . . There may be questionable entries in Soriano's essay: I'd say doctors and nurses in most operating rooms actually converse in Filipino or Taglish more than in English or Englog, but I'd also say the presentation was mostly quite right on the money, especially with lines such as "(Filipino) might have the capacity to be the language of learning, but it is not the language of the learned". (Read the Soriano essay here, where it was transferred)
     My friend the painter Marcel Antonio was the first on Facebook I read to be in agreement with that essay's presentation of the reality concerning our languages, even defending the essay as one that actually used the ironic stance with its doublespeak to those who he thought didn't get it. "This article, particularly the writer's unapologetic privileged positioning, will surely draw a lot of haters. What is scary, though, is he might actually be right," he wrote. Citizen journalist and freelance writer-editor Jenifer Aquino agreed that the essay was indeed a work of irony. She wrote: "It's a sarcastic note that's meant to slap all the 'feeling elite' elements in this country. Ako gets ko ... yung iba, malamang hinde. . . . He's right." "Just yesterday," my painter friend wrote back, "we were watching (Rep.) Mitos Magsaysay (Lakas Kampi CMD) berate Sec. (of the Presidential Communications Group) (Ricky) Carandang in the vernacular (during the hearing on the budget for his group); I imagine the rhetorical effect would be less if she argued in straight English. Mas may talas ang Tagalog, mas gusto natin ang bigat ng dilang kanto kaysa sa mala-coñong dila (that speaks Konyo or Coño English or Englog). . . . I'm hoping that you are right, Jen, that the sarcasm isn't lost on his readers. Sometimes I think most of us are not too appreciative of irony, much more various forms of sarcasm like understatement."
     Allow me now to interpolate unto this manuscript of comments in the vernacular (that Rep. Apostol might deem abominable), Mitos Magsaysay-fashion. My view would lean towards an affirmation of Soriano's points in his web of irony.
     But as regards Soriano's irony itself, ito ang masasabi ko riyan. Isa sa mga pinakamahirap i-handle ang irony. Si Alanis Morissette kinantyawan dahil di raw niya alam kung ano ang ibig sabihin ng "ironic" nung sulatin at kantahin niya ang kanyang awiting pinamagatang "Ironic". Muntik na rin di maisama sa In Utero album ng bandang Nirvana ang kanta nilang "Rape Me," dahil di raw klaro ang irony sa kanta, sabi ng mga execs ng DGC Records-Universal. Nakakatawa pa, nung makumbinsi ng banda ang mga executives na iyon, ni-release ang single CD ng "Rape Me" with a B-side song called "Moist Vagina." Ang tanga-tanga talaga. Wonder what the irony was in that. Ironic, di ba?


BUT let's get back to the main issue.
     Let me focus on those guerrilla English words that are appropriated by our expanding education not based in the English language but in Tagalog/Filipino, by which I mean the expanding education derived from the streets. Again, let me argue in the vernacular, Mitos Magsaysay-fashion:
     Assuming this writer James Soriano was not being ironic but just being honest, tama ka, Marcel Antonio, ang final line ng article---"So I have my education to thank for making English my mother language"---is still right on the money. At kung ating aalamin at sisiyasatin, kahit ang mga Tagalogero na hindi Inglesero ay mag-a-agree na kailangang bigyan-pugay ang wikang Ingles. Ito ang matagal ko nang sinasabi sa mga kaibigan kong purists, na automatic nationalists daw by virtue of their purism, na ang totoo niyan, ang majority ng mga Pilipino sa Tagalog Luzon ay Taglish ang salita at di nila naiintindihan ang mga tula sa purong Tagalog ni Lope K. Santos. Ang labandera namin, maraming English words at phrases na ginagamit na galing TV at showbiz. Ang mga ka-banda ko sa Groupies' Panciteria ay hindi naman mga galing U.P. Conservatory of Music or U.P. Department of English, pero kumukonsulta ng mga tipa sa gitara sa mga websites ng buong mundo, at hindi ko pa sila narinig na nagsalita na wala man lang Ingles sa kanilang bawat pangungusap, kahit man lang sa mga simpleng tanong gaya ng "kuya Jo, may noodles ba tayo riyan?" Ibig sabihin, lahat ng tao rito sa bansa natin, nakakakuha ng edukasyon gamit ang mga salita ng English language. Pakinggan mo na lang si Ka Gerry Geronimo sa agriculture show niya sa TV, parang ako magsalita rito, nag-so-sow ng maraming seeds ng appropriation ng English words para sa Tagalog ng mga magsasaka ng kasalukuyan at ng future. Nakarinig ka na ba ng mag-aayos ng dingding niyo na Tinagalog pa ang concrete nail? Kung di ako nagkakamali, sabi ng makatang si Virgilio Almario sa isang preface o foreword ng isang Tagalog/Filipino - English dictionary, pag ang Ingles na salita ay ginagamit-gamit ng Tagalog na tao sa pananagalog niya, Tagalog word na rin iyon. Dati babaguhin natin ang spelling, tulad ng "driver" to "drayber". Ngayon, hindi na, especially na maraming kolehiyala o colegiala girls dyan na pumapara sa driver para maibaba sila sa corner. Ang mga bata sa elementarya ay binibigkas ang bagong alpabeto ng wikang Filipino thus: "a, b, c, d". Wala na ang dating "a, b, k, d".
     Pero, on the other side of the coin naman, totoo ngang me mga may kultura na nagsasabi sa kanilang mga sarili na "mas superyor ako dahil marami akong alam na Ingles kesa sa mga tao sa kalsada".
     Aktwali noon pa 'tong presumption ng superyoridad na 'to e. Noong panahon ng mga Espanyol, sabi nila, "mas superyor ako dahil mas marami akong alam na Espanyol kesa sa mga tao sa labas ng aming bahay na bato". Kung tutuusin, inferyor ang pananaw ng nagsasalita ng gayon dahil ininvade ang utak niya ng isang aroganteng kulturang Espanyol. Ang indibidwal na nag-Tagyol o nag-Espanlog ang masasabi kong naging superyor, dahil siya ang kumuha ng makukuha niya sa mga lenguwahe na nakahain sa buffet ng kaalaman.
     Kasi lahat naman ng languages may kanya-kanyang kakaibang yaman, maliban pa dun sa mga "talas" na unique sa kanila. Marami kang makukuhang kaalaman sa wikang Ingles. Gayun din sa wikang Tagalog/Filipino. Anong African language ba 'yon na may napakaraming tawag sa ulan, gayung sa Tagalog me buhos at ambon lang? Sa Japanese daw me 50 words for rain. Ayon sa isang writer ng Miller-McCune magazine sa kanyang report na pinamagatang "Rescuing Endangered Languages Means Saving Ideas": "This suggests language systems don’t merely translate universal ideas into different spellings; they encode different concepts. And when we lose a language, we risk losing those concepts." Still, kung ang foreign concepts ay accessible naman, bakit nga ba natin lilimitahan ang isang tao na gustong mag-aral ng as many words as he can keep in his skull's hard disk and who wishes to be able to use them in his daily grind as he speaks to the taxi driver? Unang-una, komunikasyon naman ang objective, di ba? Oo nga't di mo malelectyuran ang taxi driver tungkol sa metanarratives ng colonial literature, kahit purong Tagalog pa ang gamitin mo ("metanaratibo ng mga likha at literaturang kolonyal"), pero di ka lang maiintindihan hindi dahil wala siyang alam na Ingles kundi dahil hindi niya alam yang mga bagay na pinagsasasabi mo. Buti pa pag-usapan niyo na lang ang mga spark plugs na patok at ang iba't-ibang tread ng gulong, baka ilibre ka pa niya sa "flag-down fare" mo.
     Kasi naman, labas sa Kongreso at sa broadsheet journalism, sa mga tao sa araw-araw---tulad ng mga tao sa mga airports---hindi isyu ang language. Ginagawa lang 'tong isyu ng mga ayaw makinig sa sinasabi mo.


NOONG August 26, naglabas ng parodic essay ang Singapore-based writer and blogger na si Kat Nisperos sa wikang "Bekimon" (baklang jejemon) o swardspeak sa kanyang Facebook Notes page. Kinontra nito ang gist ng essay ni Soriano by translating his essay to become his/hers. Read the essay here.
     Do read, however, Nisperos' nota bene regarding his essay, which offered an apologia against judging Soriano's person and person-qua-social-symbol, quickly campaigning for a more magnanimous view, preferably one taking notice of a larger issue. Why the post-Note note?---I ask. Would it seem that there had been readers of Nisperos' essay who mistook his humor for being one by a deeply-offended voice? Ironic, di ba? Dahil isa raw sa mga rason ng pagsulat ni Nisperos ng essay na ito was to "put a lighter note on the entire issue, because too many personal attacks were being made against James".
     Oo nga't kung pagbabasehan lang natin ang parody ni Nisperos ay tila di niya binasa ang essay ni Soriano bilang isang ironic take on an issue. But, nonetheless, his/her essay demonstrates amply well na maraming wika sa Metro Manila, at lahat ng ito ay sources of knowledge. Ang maraming niches dito, whether these involve population segments drawn around social classes, regional classes, various small groups, or whatever, are more diverse than we've come to expect. There are the jejemons that offend some. There are the pure Tagalog speakers that preach Iglesia ni Kristo and Ang Dating Daan gospel truths. There are the bus conductors with three-voweled Visayan accents that would forever be the butt of Manila sitcom and mahjong jokes.
     But yet, Metro Manilans are deemed as belonging to one nation instead of as a compendium of mini-nations or intra-nations or nations within a nation.
     Which should make us conclude, based on this fact alone, na tulad ng mga tao sa mga airports hindi nga dapat isyu ang language. Ginagawa lang itong isyu ng iilan dahil ayaw nilang makinig sa mga sinasabi mo, kahit ilang dekada na silang nakikinig sa wika ng mga tulad mo sa plenaryo ng cosmopolis.
     (Oh, and kasama na rin do'n ang mga sinasabi ng wika ng Irony. At ng wika ng plain humor.) [END]


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ADDENDUM (September 2, 2011):
Tila ngang me irony sa essay ni Soriano, ito'y ayon sa kanyang bagong sanaysay dito: click dito. May mga di naniniwala sa kanyang apologia. Nasaktan sa mga sinabi niya sa unang essay. Ganun kailap ang irony, ang claim sa irony, o ang absence ng irony na sabi ng ilan ay naroon. Pero sabi ko nga sa taas: "sa nakararami, hindi isyu ang wika. Ginagawa lamang itong isyu ng mga ayaw makinig sa sinasabi mo." Ano ba talaga sa palagay ninyo ang sinasabi ni Soriano? Ano ang sinasabi ninyo? Tila tatlo ang naging isyu: 1) ang Filipino language bilang simbolo ng bayan na sing-tatag sa puso tulad ng bandila o ng imahe ni Hesus ng Nazaret, 2) ang privileged class na tulad ng kay James Soriano raw at ang pagkantyaw sa wika ng may wika, at 3) ang irony. Tapos na ang buwan ng wika. Setyembre na, ang pampitong buwan ayon sa mga Romano at sa astrolohiya. Subalit walang pumapansin sa pangalan ng buwan na ito (na ang ibig sabihin ay seventh month), kahit narito na tayo sa Kalendas Ianuarius (o Julian calendar na may dinagdag na Januarius at Februarius). Pa'no kasi, sa mga tao sa kalsada sa araw-araw, hindi isyu ang pangalan ng buwan. Ginagawa lamang itong isyu ng mga taong ayaw ng nasisinagan ng araw.
     Subalit tila ngang me depekto sa depensa ni Soriano sa pangalawa niyang sanaysay. Dahil tila nalimita niya ang isyu sa dadalwang wika lamang, ang wikang English at ang wikang Filipino (o academically-expanded Tagalog). Sabi ko nga sa main essay ko sa taas, ang mas angkop na deskripsyon sa wika ng nakararami sa Tagalog Luzon ay Taglish. O sabihin na nating Tagalog pa rin. Ngunit hindi ito ang Tagalog na mababasa mo sa pangalawang sanaysay ni Soriano. Ito ang Tagalog na maririnig mo sa TV.

Another Lousy Day for Heroes (Counter-Reifications)

ARE you still worth dying for? asked this poster that made the rounds of Facebook walls last August 21, a day commemorating the death of Benigno Aquino Jr. (better known to us all as Ninoy Aquino). Today as we celebrate National Heroes' Day, many of our dead heroes might have to flaunt a similar question, "Have you, whom we died for, been worth it?"

     Let's zoom back in on Ninoy.

     Beyond being just a nickname attached to an airport's name and behind its acronym, NAIA, Ninoy is also deemed a cult hero by many an admirer. Not just a national or political hero, but a cult hero, in the Greek hero cult sense, almost a saint in some Catholic people's minds, much as Elvis Presley is a cult figure to many at Graceland's gates who don't necessarily have any idea about Elvis's musical and socio-political significance when he exploded on the scene.

     Now, in case you're wondering, I started this blog because of an issue around the tag of hero upon Corazon Aquino. There was this dispute on film critic Noel Vera's own blogsite about whether Corazon should/could be called a hero, which question inspired me to put up this, my own opinion blog. Click here to read that blog post of mine.

     I do not plan to end this blog any time soon, but I feel I need to come full circle today on that hero thing there. Full circle, because this time around our first subject-person shall be Corazon's husband, Ninoy. I hope I would be able to contribute my own five-hundred pesos worth into that above virtual poster's eternally-hanging question, with a focus on the issue of qualifying hero-ness, and shall therefore now attempt to once and for all chip in on a final definition.

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In light of all the doubt regarding the fixability of this country of ours, I shall have to answer that question---"Are you still worth dying for?"---thus: To be inspired to continue, all you need to have, really, is a firm belief in an ideology and an outcome, perhaps inclusive of a people reacting to that ideology and outcome. For a man/woman will die for an ideology or a hobby or passion, never for a people devoid of a connection to that hobby or passion. So much so that a man/woman will die for a hobby even regardless of whatever reaction from a people, even regardless of an absence of people. To the human psyche, it's the ideologies and serious passions they carry that are always worth dying for, not a people, unless it's one's spouse or kids or kin or parent or a God.
     It is possible that Ninoy, a student of history, was not being presumptuous about people picking up where he left off after his death. It was just his "hobby," his passion, his science, his art, to want to be a liberator, regardless of a people's appreciation. The spurts of applause would have been a bonus. He was serving what was in his heart and mind, what was in his idea of the role he assigned to himself.

     On the other hand, it is also possible that he had ideas of his death as the ultimate sacrifice for realizing his dreams, half-desiring it, in the same way that Jesus of Nazareth saw it was only through his martyrdom that the Christ movement of love could spread beyond Galilee into Asia Minor and onwards to defeat the Roman philosophy of conquest by Might, the same way that Gandhi thought British violence toward him might be the only way by which the world could finally witness the reality of British oppression. It is possible that Aquino desired a suicidal finish, perhaps aware of a hero's monomyth requiring a final heroic Return. Better die for a monomyth than merely a heart surgeon's report.

     But, in these above persons' cases, it would still be simplistic to carry the slogans "died for a people," "died for our salvation," "died for India," unless of course we believe them (especially Jesus of Nazareth) to be gods or demigods. These slogans may seem to us to serve our causes' heroes and icons, but these slogans actually ignore the psychological reality of what there was in it for our heroes too, which in the end denies them (and us) the possibility of the existence of their own "selfish" dreams. The reason we declare persons our heroes is not by reason of their being Heroes per se, in spite of us, it is because they carried the same torch we carried within our own "selfish" dreams and/or struggles, dreams and struggles only these "heroes" were able to translate into action or able to fulfill, action and fulfillment that the rest of us did not have the privilege or position or wherewithal or perhaps even full courage or full indifference to achieve.

     The problem with simplifications like "died for his people" is it turns our heroes into emblems instead of symbols. Symbols are symbols of something, a cause, an ideology, a fight. Emblems are flags or seals the meanings of which are forgotten, becoming no more important than the blinding metanarrative of slogans used around a rationale for a fiesta budget allocation. In such a simplification, it is not a surprise to watch Ninoy become just Ninoy, a face, a color, during a holiday. It throws away his detailed dreams for us to the sidelines, dreams that we shared with many for our communities. It may even deny the fact that Aquino was aiming for a Christian socialistic formula for Philippine progress, a conscious or unconscious denial the conscious/subconscious intent of which is to reduce Ninoy to a corporate insignia on a shirt.

WE'RE all passionate about how not to trivialize the personas of our heroes, true. But we are often divided on which metanarrative to take in order to avoid the trivialization. My own possible anti-Greek Hero Cult metanarrative says people are made up of dreams---politicians, scientists, artists denounced by the Church, imperfect saviors, authors of insulting novels, and so on, their heroism all consisted of dreams. I'm saying it would be an offense to their personas to be reductivist, turning them into instances of our own Romantic metanarratives as these perfect heroes, as if Saul Bellow's lovable returning antiheroes with blemishes had never come back to haunt late 20th-century literature. I'm saying I prefer remembering my heroes as people instead of as Raphaelite statues devoid of a realistic story.

     Most people's one and only---for being the most popular---version of Ninoy Aquino is quite valid on paper and may even be the truth. Maybe Ninoy was indeed a freak of nature. It may seem sentimental to me and psychologically simplistic, but I'd respect this version of their hero. To me, however, Ninoy is a hero of a different vein, a hero of realism instead of Romanticism. This would be according to my own metanarrative which could be the reification in contrast to their truth. It may be that my version of Ninoy is wrong and theirs is right, and should that be, I am only human.

     Be that as it may, my version of Ninoy would not be a version, for it shall not be linear as a single movie about him but more like diptychs of transparencies placed over each other, with other people's images intertwined with those of his, appearing and fading and reappearing in a dynamism of counterfactual histories. I've been told by my Philosophical Taoist faith that the greatest sin one could commit against God is to simplify him in a box. I avoid the same sin with my enemies, for art-of-war reasons. I'd certainly avoid it with my friends, with whom a familiarity could easily lead me to be judgmental over mistakes. I'd especially avoid it in my appreciation of my heroes.

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"Really great people make you feel that you, too, can become great."---Mark Twain

MY main beef with the Romantic metanarrative is in its resultant effect of hyping up the heroism of vaunted figures while downplaying the heroism of others, especially the heroism of nameless middle- and lower-class efforts and martyrdoms. This metanarrative would look upon the vaunted heroism as a rarity, a god-like character placed in a few human receivers of para-human gifts. This appreciation is to me the intellectual and linguistic equivalent of assigning political royalism into certain niches of society, which, in turn and ultimately, denies middle and lower classes of the possibility of having that same dignified character. This intellectual royalism, therefore, would easily imagine and convince itself that we ordinary Filipinos would not take the martyred path Ninoy took, were we given the same situation and privilege.

     My counter-narrative would be that I daily see people around me taking their own modest "martyred paths." Modest paths of martyrdom or near-martyrdom, they may be, but martyrdoms nonetheless the modesty of which could anytime turn into martyrdoms of scale, depending on how history will take care of twists in its own plot via the volksgeist/zeitgeist phenomena of historical development. A scientific version looks upon Joan of Arc's story as one that started as an insane proposition, but one that historical necessity and political opportunism found a vehicle in for the mutual attainment of political success. The same with Hitler, whose little, demented anger started a runaway train to near-success and fateful infamy. In short, never underestimate the modesty or smallness of ordinary fearlessness.

     People around us take their own daily martyred paths not because they---or their managers---are consciously planning (them) to become martyrs or heroes, but just because it is in their self-assignations, what they think is their job or their duty or their role on Earth to do, just what they have to do. I don't mean political paths, I merely mean daily paths including such mundane stuff as risking being denounced by the majority in society because of what is in one's faith or belief or philosophy to do that which he is about to do, risking one's job because what he plans to do is---according to his heart---his obligation and is the right thing to do, risking assassination because he has to fight his union's fight that needs to be fought, risking whatever else. Some of these ordinary risks do result in death, but one such death wouldn't be because of a suicidal plan, like the plan of secular martyrdom some Ninoy followers would like us to think Ninoy drew. The risks are taken just because they are what are in the heart of the moment of deciding the path, like the quick decisions we make upon modest passions, like the ones we choose to take with little serious hobbies. The deaths wouldn't be self-planned; in fact, in everyday martyrdoms; the threats---whether of death or hunger or whatever---were often ignored, because deemed out of the question, laughable bits of information. They were mere unrealistic worries by the spouses. For, look, even the tabloids report daily of "heroic" deaths over little things, like with one "Lalaki na Nakipagtagaan Sa Videoke Bar Dahil Lang Sa 'My Way', Patay".

BUT, of course, it's the martyrdoms of corporate scale that we celebrate, and we would be bent---in our hierarchy designs---towards awarding one persona the national hero assignation (number one), as we pigeonhole the others into that roster box consisting of secondary national heroes (still an exclusive roster, though), our not national but 'mere heroes'. Macario Sakay is a mere virtual hero on the sidelines, not fit to be placed in the exclusive roster of national heroes, according to earlier historians, for reasons anyone could easily muster.

      That's why I prefer today's holiday name, National Heroes' Day, even as it fails to refer to which heroes the day is saluting. I would have preferred "Cry of Pugad Lawin Day," so to commemorate not an assignation to abstract referents but a collective act and will. Collective, I say, for a national heroes' day like today ought to be celebrating leaders of a communal heroism, with those heroes raised as prime symbols of a . . . well, a collective cause. Because, in our day, we've turned our heroes into emblems, good men unto themselves. Instead of being symbols of good leadership within a collective cause, they've become symbols of themselves.

     This is reflected in our own support for our living politicians. We start by supporting a political figure who stood for our fight, our cause, with us doing so because this hero of the moment spoke our language and told our story. Later in the day, especially when we are ourselves entrenched in modest positions within our hero's newly-won leadership, our stand for our earlier cause quickly turns into a stand for the political figure himself, he who may have already left the original cause. We, in our turn, often consciously leave our original cause with our hero, or otherwise delude ourselves into believing our hero is still in the cause, . . . in effect turning that hero to be not the vehicle for a cause but himself and his holy persona as the new cause unto himself.

     To repeat, in countries such as ours, heroes stop becoming symbols of a people, they become emblems of themselves. In front of these resultant icons, we proffer to society and offer our faith that theirs alone have been the existing speech-cries of freedom, theirs alone the blood spilled worthy of a spotlight.

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And so we have the polymath Jose Rizal, who is that freak of nature, whose character level has been played up so much that it can be deemed unattainable to ordinary men, unattainable even to one placed in extraordinary situations. It would be impossible for the son of a fisherman from Samar to have similar poly-interests that could result in poly-expertise given some background of poly-privilege and poly-support.
     I do not know how Che Guevara is taught in Cuban universities, but in the West, when people talk of Che Guevara they cannot escape quoting the Che's glorification of his people's courage, the people that he led and yet belonged with. But yet, in this probably unconscious Western strategy of empathizing with Che's popularity, Che also becomes a sneer object, for being the popular hero of a duped people and, as well, being no better than his fellows whose parallel courage he was merely a parasite of. Though his pretty face would be on the T-shirts of new bohemians from New York to Milan today, mainstream Western society would yet label this communist a cruel, vain villain who merely used the masses for an ambition. And so, in contrast, the heroes of Western countries and their Westernized nanny states (like ours) are placed not among the people but above them. In the case of Rizal and Ninoy Aquino, these are heroes portrayed as gods whose followers can only aspire to become. The followers are assured that they will never be those heroes of theirs, and worse, never could have been, even if all this time they had already been.
     A musical by the progressive songwriter-composer Gary Granada opens with the song titled "Sino Ka Ba, Jose Rizal?" In this song alone, Granada depicts the alienation of Rizal's persona from the ordinary man's perspective, a result of years of hyping up Rizal's freak individuality that elevated him to the level of an unreachable god. Meanwhile, when people sing a paean towards Ninoy Aquino with the slogan-line "hindi ka nag-iisa!," two levels of meaning explode on the table. The first level says, "you have followers in us, we are one with you, and will die---like you---for the country too." The next level says "you, like Jesus, are our unreachable savior who single-handedly fought our fight, and we worship you in return because of that sacrifice."
     This attitude towards heroes not only denies heroic achievements their flaws, it makes a mockery of those achievements, a caricaturesque depiction of their development in sympathy with the people (and the people's own efforts), and finally provides a strategy upon a servile society that cannot be expected to save themselves or fight for themselves. This strategy has been feeding us with the lie, through our Heroes and the cult of personality, that we ordinary citizens have never really fought, never will, and will always be needing hero-demigods to perform their fateful monomyths upon us.
     Again, that's why I prefer today's/tomorrow's holiday name, National Heroes' Day, even as it fails to declare which plurality of heroes it is celebrating. Again, I would have preferred "Cry of Pugad Lawin Day," so to commemorate not specific personalities of our imagination and their historical apotheosis but a collective act and will with its own counter-apotheosis for the record. But the Romantics won't give it to us on a platter, of course, and, in order to maintain that hidden class-driven linguistic and hegemonic version lording it over the concept of the singular hand called "the Hero," will always be ready to resist any form of counterfactual history upon It. [TO BE CONTINUED]

• Photo of Cry of Pugad Lawin Monument borrowed from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Pugad_Lawin_013.jpg
• Photo of poster "Are you still worth dying for?" specifically borrowed from http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=p.274372495910046&type=1
• Photo of Jose Rizal borrowed from http://www.antifornicator.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/Jose_Rizal.jpg

Moving On, In Hindsight, and Predicting the Future of Art

1. Moving forward, ano ba dapat ang artist?

IN TV host and social critic Lourd de Veyra's show on AksyonTV called Word of the Lourd, the host tackled the recent brouhaha over an installation art displayed at the Cultural Center of the Philippines, a brouhaha instigated by the media and taken up mainly by devotees of the Roman Catholic faith. My distant cousin Lourd, whom I constantly applaud with much aplomb on this his show, implied a preference for "moving on," however, which caught my questioning attention. He intimated that the country has bigger problems to tackle than this, this being an issue in art, that field far removed from the concerns of mainstream society. Here's that video:

     I do not mean to judge or make assumptions about my cousin's stance or stand on the issue itself, pero "Let's move on" ang operative formula na ina-apply ng marami nating kababayan sa mga isyung hindi natin nareresolba/mareresolba o di kaya ayaw nating resolbahin.

     Sinasabi ko ito dahil, sa isang perspektibo, may mga facet ng isyu akong nakikita kung saan puwede kang mag-apply ng resolusyon. Hindi rin ako sang-ayon na nagkakamali ang media tuwing tinutuligsa o tsinitsismis nito ang "maliliit" na bagay na hindi pinapansin ng masa, dahil ang mga journalists, tulad ng mga tsismoso, ay may kani-kanyang political agenda o socio-educational mission na ayon sa kanilang mga kultura o kaalaman o di kaya bias, at ang mga agenda o misyon at kaalaman o di kaya bias na ito ay makikita nating worth talking about, actually, kahit nilalabas nila ito sa maliliit na bagay lamang.

     Off the bat, isipin natin ang isang facet nitong malaki o maliit na isyu na 'to. Ang tanong: ang exhibition bang ito ay magiging malaking isyu ng journalismo at intelligentsia tungkol sa estado kung ito ay hindi state-sponsored art or at least state-facilitated art dahil dinisplay sa isang state-sponsored na venue, ang CCP? Kung ito'y dinisplay sa Ayala Museum, mag-rarally lamang ang mga konserbatibong deboto ng Simbahang Katoliko laban sa artist, sa curator, at sa mga Ayalas, di ba, at ang mga Ayalas lamang ang magiging malaking isyu. Wala nang pagreresign-in na mga otoridad ng CCP. (Sabagay, malaking isyu na rin iyon kung may nagtangkang sunugin ang Ayala Museum kung sa Ayala Museum nga nai-display ang Poleteismo ni Mideo Cruz).

     Sang-ayon ako, actually, na maraming malalaking problema ang naungkat ng exhibition. Isa na ro'n ang problema ng attitude ng estado towards institutionalized religion. Isa rin do'n ang problema ng pagdedesisyun nito sa kung saan dapat tinatapon ang pera ng bayan at sa kung saan hindi dapat. Panahon na na ang isang liberal na gobyerno ay magsabi na ang pera ng estado ay hindi dapat nakikialam sa pagtutulak ng art, sa dahilang ito'y nag-aaksaya lamang ng pera ng bayan sa pinaborang artists, maging mga kaibigan ko man sila o hindi. Panahon na rin na ang artist ay hindi maging artist na boses ng estado o isang rehimen/administrasyon kundi artist ng sarili niyang pagkatao bilang indibidwal o miyembro ng isang niche ng lipunan na gumagalaw independente sa suporta ng estado.

     As a corollary argument, kung censorship din lang ang pag-uusapan, may karapatang i-censor ng estado ang anumang art na ginastusan o ginagastusan ng pera nito. Kahit sa lighting man lang, or after the fact of the artmaking. Karapatan, I mean, na sa papel ay hindi ideal, lalo sa isang maka-demokrasya at maka-Konstitusyon na lipunan na dapat ay bukas sa lahat ng uri ng boses o pananaw, subalit totoo namang nangyayari pagdating sa mga aksyon ng mga screening committees. At depende na rin lang sa uri ng estado na gumagawa ng censorship: ito ba ay isang mapanupil na rehimen o liberal na gobyerno na gusto lamang i-censor ang mga materyal ng anti-democracy voices.

OO NGA. Bumisita si dating First Lady Imelda Marcos, ang asawa ng dating diktador na si Ferdinand Marcos, sa CCP exhibition, at ang ngayo'y isa nang Representative ng House of Representatives ay naglabas ng kanyang pagkamuhi sa nasabing installation project.

     Pero, in relation to Imelda's oft-quoted slogan "the true, the good and the beautiful," coming as it seems from the perspective of a royalist ideology, tingnan naman natin ang sarili nating mga konsepto ng truth, goodness at beauty from our own respective contending ideologies. I-iimpose din ba natin ang atin sa bayan? Sasabihin din ba natin sa tao na magbayad sila ng buwis para masustentuhan nila ang mga art at artists na may bersyon ng ating truth, ng ating goodness, ng ating beauty ayon sa ating ideology? Kung oo ang sagot natin, ano ngayon ang pinagkaiba natin kay Imelda?

     Bilang isang social liberal at isa ring kritiko ng ilang Roman Catholic policies at doctrines, dapat akong magdiwang sa tapang ng artist na si Mideo Cruz at ng mga art sponsors niya (curator, etc.). Subalit ayokong gawin ang ginagawa sa akin ng mga kalaban ko sa argumento (mula sa fundamentalismo ng institutionalized religion)---ang magdiwang tuwing nasasagot ako habang nakasandal sa poder ng ideloyohiya o teyolohiya na kumakalinga sa kanila, dahil alam kong dapat wala ang poder na iyon sa likod nila habang tumatakbo ang demokratikong argumentasyon. In short, wala silang threats na "patawarin ka sana ng Diyos" o "gabaan ka sana" na maririnig sa akin mula sa aking secular na punto de vista. At bakit ko nasabi ito? Dahil sa side naman ni Cruz, poder ng state art ang sinasandalan niya, at---sa pag-aming may karapatang masaktan ang relihiyon---ayokong sumandal sa poder ng sekyularismong iyon na kasalukuyang pinamamahalaan ng isang diumano'y social liberal na gobyerno. Dahil forever bang pag-aagawan ng mga ideologies o theologies ang CCP at National Commission for Culture and the Arts? O, in the US' case, forever bang pag-aagawan ang National Endowment for the Arts ng mga liberals, religious conservatives at Tea Party-ites? Ano kaya kung itumba na lang natin ang mga pinag-aagawan na 'to? Kung tayo, bilang mga social liberals (o Christian o atheist progressivists man) ay nakikiagaw kay Imelda, ang stalwart ng Philippijne royalist ideology, wala tayong pinagkaiba sa kanya. Pare-pareho tayong gustong magdikta ng ating malamang estetiko sa buong bansa.

     Dahil bagamat ako ay isang social liberal, alam ko rin na ang liberals ay hindi ang buong bayan. Kung ang ating asta ngayon ay, "kaming mga liberal ang hari ngayon, hawak namin ang CCP ngayon, kami ang masusunod, art namin ang masusunod," aba, huwag tayong magrereklamo kung sa mga darating na taon na si Bongbong Marcos naman ang presidente, ay sabihin niyang "o, mga royalist na naman ang may hawak ng CCP ha, art naman namin ang masusunod. Back off kayo." (This is assuming, of course, that Bongbong Marcos won't surprise us with a future sudden reconfiguration of his person from being a defender of his father's record to being a real champion of the masses and the country's coffers' integrity and strength, should that be possible.)

      We should not weary in the eternal struggle of raising self-critical banners. Just as we won't with a possible hundred years of war with un-self-critical fanatics, given that a state of civil war might be acceptable to many if that's what would wake us up to the virtue of democratic tolerance. So, today while debate is still possible, and debating with oneself won't necessarily be by virtue of a gaslighter's effort but by one's own scruples, so I'd say, that even if I were the lucky type who often gets my way, I'd still be against state sponsorship of my art and art profession. For state sponsorship is at the very heart of the Mideo Cruz piece, even if all the state did was provide Cruz a space with gallery lighting! On this issue, at least, I'm one with Newt Gingrich. LOL.

     But yet, also be aware that many US Republicans don't exactly want the NEA abolished. They just want it governed by conservatives who would put up evangelical art. If they can have it their way, they won't want to get rid of state sponsorship of the arts and the arts profession. They won't be one with Newt Gingrich.
     At, finally, sa debate tungkol sa piece ni Cruz, sa bandang akin lang naman: kung may poder man ang secularism na gusto kong sandalan sa anumang argumento tungkol dito, ito ay hindi sa pagdikta nito ng sekyularismo bilang haven ng panginginsulto sa relihiyon kundi sa pagdikta nito ng prinsipyo ng demokrasya na nagbibigay ng kalayaan kanino man na manginsulto kanino man. 

2. In hindsight, what is art, who is it for, at ano ang matalinong art?

STRANGE THAT in novelist F. Sionil Jose's philSTAR.com column titled Hindsight, he would have had the opportunity to get a "perfect view in hindsight" (two weeks after the controversial CCP exhibition opened) and yet came up with nothing original, nothing different from what the protesters against the exhibition had to say (were continuing to say). In short, it was as if Jose was out with it merely to announce on which side he was, and taking the case of the protesters instead of the exhibition's supporters' side (or the supporters-of-the-exhibition's-rights' side), at least in the query area of whether the exhibited installation art was art or not. He clearly voiced his support for the protesters through the title of his column article, "The CCP Jesus Christ exhibit: It ain't art".

     Ahem. Okey. Mga kaibigan, naalala ko tuloy.

     Isang araw kasi noon, nagpatugtog ang kaibigan kong FM radio deejay ng Pearl Jam grunge sa radyo nila, kaya tanong ng station manager niya, "ba't yan ang pinapatugtog mo? Mawawalan tayo ng listeners nyan." What did my friend do? Did what was expected of him, played the '70s folk-rock band America's "A Horse with No Name" followed by James Taylor's "Your Smiling Face." "Yan ang rock," sabi ng station manager. Pagdating ng dapithapon, nag-inuman kami ng kaibigan ko at buong gabi naming tinalakay ang definition ng rock music. Napunta kami sa new wave music, kung saan chinallenge ang idea ng pagka-rock nang walang electric guitar, at sa kung saan-saang dako pa ng genre-fication. Kinaumagahan, nung ako'y magising sa aking hangover, isa lang ang na-realize ko. May isang milyong definition ng rock music. Pero nakatulog lang uli ako, at doon naman sa dako ng aking paglalakbay habang tulog, napaniginipan ko si Prof. John Lennon na minumura ang estudyanteng si Kurt Cobain. Sabi niya, "ano ba yang pinaggagagawa mo, Cobain? Pakinggan mo ang 'Woman' ko. Ganyan gumawa ng kanta, okey?" . . . Uhm, pa'no ba alisin ang hangover? Uminom na uli ng isa pang bote pagkatapos sumuka? Parang ganon nga yata. Uh, you were saying?

     Where was I? Ano bang argument pa ang sasabihin ko sana? Oh, yes. Sabi ng isang Facebook friend of a friend, "Unfortunately, the intolerant side won't even let you finish a sentence by instantly pushing the usual 'shut up', 'bobo', 'bastos', or, worse, the 'gaba-an' threat as well as death threats." Tuloy ng kaibigan ng kaibigan ko, "It baffles me how anyone can just throw the word 'bobo' around when you need several intelligence tests to accurately come up with a conclusion. Even then you need to establish if these tests are culture-fair pa, and then there's EQ vs IQ . . . "

     Where was I? Oh, yes. Sa bus nung isang gabi, sumakay ang isang barkada ng mga estudyanteng high school. Ang lalakas ng boses! Sabi ng isa, "si ma'am yun." "Gago, hindi si ma'am yun," sabi naman nung isa. "Si ma'am yun, bobo." "Ulol, kitang-kita ko ng mga mata ko, gago ka ba?" "Tarantado ka," sabi ng isa, sabay batok sa kaibigan habang sila'y nagtatawanan, "hindi ako gago, 'no. Alam ko ang hitsura ni ma'am, tanga ka pala e." . . . Mahabang kuwento 'to, pero sa madaling salita, dumating din sila sa kanilang paroroonan, silang maiingay na mga gago, at wala namang nagalisan o nasabunutan ng buhok. Buti pa ang mga high school, sabi ko sa sarili ko, pag gumagamit ng mga salita galing sa social science, walang intolerance. Lahat ng "bobo," "gago" at "tanga" ay kaibigan.

     But, to be fair, Jose never used the word "stupid." Instead, he only used the words "immature," "juvenile," "ridiculous," and phrases like "lack imagination," "don't think hard enough," among other implied hellfire of judgmental language.

     Hanggang dito na lang ba ang usaping ito? Sa side ni Jose o ng kanyang kinikilingan ay ang truth o artistic truth, at ang kabilang side ay ang kabobohan? The name of the Truth, the Good, the Beautiful . . . Amin?

     Ang sinasabi pa ni Jose, ang artwork installation art daw dito sa exhibition in question ay copied art, lacking in imagination or originality. A gimmick, then! And should go back to the drawing board.

     Where was I? Oh, yes. Isang gabi, nag-daydream ako na isa akong critic na kelangan me sulatin. Di ko alam saan ako magsisimula. Ah, biglang sabi ng epiphany area ng aking utak, may titirahin akong mga derivative art. Ewan ko kung ano ang nangyari, pero napunta ang panaginip ko sa pinagsasasakmal ko ang isang derivative art sa di ko alam na dahilan. Oo, hindi ko alam ang dahilan. Hindi ko alam. Ang alam ko lang, wala akong sinabi sa sangkaterbang iba pang derivative art, o sa sarili kong derivative art. Para akong tambay sa kanto na may nakursunadahang iisa lamang, at di ko alam ang dahilan.

     Now, it may be that no one's awaiting my opinion on this, but let me just clarify to those who have stumbled into this that, in contrast to Mr. Jose's unclarified position, I'm neither on the side of the Church of Caiaphas (which is what I've come to call the Catholic Church authorities' recent temple of corrupt behavior under Gloria Arroyo's previous government) nor on the side of the sons of Christian aniconism. I'm just a man on a bus petting a historical hangover.

PARDON MY attempts at wit. Wit is a 1995 play and 2001 movie about cancer.

     I mean, God forbid the Gabâ (instant or imminent bad karma). Or death threats. And so I say to you, to Christians like myself (cafeteria Christian though I am) there ought to be no death, no darkness, no end to the Christian perspective. And yet we put out with holy water the fire we stoke for Joans of Arc? Nakaka-puzzle ang death threats (o ang mga tipong death sentences ng Opus Dei sa mga nobela ni Dan Brown hahaha), dahil dapat hindi parusa ang sickness o death sa Christian philosophy. Ito kaya ay patunay lamang na maraming Christian gurus kuno ang walang pakialam sa mga turo ng kanilang libro at hero?

     "Sana gaba-an kayo," sigaw ng mga deboto, gayung sabi ng kanilang hero, "love your enemies." Tama nga naman si Hero. Di ba't ang iprinopose niya noong thesis ay ang anti-thesis sa Ancient Roman philosophy of Might? Sabi ni Hero, hindi Might for Might, kundi Love ang magpapatumba sa kaharian ng Tiyuhin ni Caligula.

     Pero tila mali ang metaphor natin dahil lalabas dito na ang iilang iconoclasm ngayon ay gawa ng mga pagano at "Romano" ng ating panahon. Di ba't si Hero mismo ay ang iconoclast ng Judaismo ng kanyang panahon? "Wala akong pakialam sa sinasamba nyong Templo ng kabuktutan," tila sabi niya noon, "itutumba ko yan at papalitan ko sa loob ng tatlong araw."

     Dapat na nga yatang tumbahin ang CCP ng "Caiaphas-approved art lamang ang puwede at ipapako sa krus ng media ang susuway." Itayo muli ang "templo ng tao at ng puso" na hindi gawa ni Imelda kundi ng bawat simpleng bato sa kanto! At dapat hindi ang The Rock ang punong-kritiko!

PARDON MY attempts at wit. Dahil sasabihin lang ng mga deboto, aha! ang witty sa sineng Wit ni Mike Nichols ay namatay sa cancer, buti nga. Gabâ. Ang isa pang friend of a friend na nag-witty mimic sa exhibition art na pinag-uusapan natin dito ay biglang na-ospital dahil sa isang pamamaga sa mukha. Isang supporter ng exhibiting artist in question ang isinugod sa ospital ang anak. Well, let me say this. Lahat ng tao---may sabihin man laban sa Simbahan o wala---ay nagkakasakit o namamatay. Kaya nagtataka ako kung bakit itunuturing na Gabâ ang sickness at death, lalong-lalo na ng mga deboto na dapat ay unang nakaaalala sa mga turo ng kanilang martir na nagpakamatay sa mga pahina ng Bagong Testamento.

     Should this attitude towards Gabâ or retribution among the Church's faithful to be viewed as a koan cum puzzling paradox, Christianity's history being replete---as I said---with a constant involving the burning of its own people whom it would later pronounce as its saints? Jesus of Nazareth himself, let me repeat, was an iconoclast at Caiaphas' Church.

PARDON THE depth of my subtext. My bad. History makes bad ad copy. Unless, of course, its strategy is to provoke questions. And my friend, the veteran journalist-activist Sylvia Mayuga, says there's good news about the CCP. That "things are changing as we speak; issues are being clarified, starting with ourselves." Well, remains to be seen in what direction of defining goodness it has chosen to move towards. For, putting aside my usual contention against the state's role in supporting art-making activities beyond museums and libraries maintenance, I could cite an example of an ill-advised direction.

     A friend of Mayuga's echoed and reiterated lines of argument coming from those whose moral standpoint have been offended by the art in question.

     "Freedom is not absolute . . . carries with it a sense of responsibility," says one recurring line. This is true, and that is the reason why we have laws, statesmen, legislators and lawyers on the one hand and warlords and assassins on the other. The "one hand" as well as "the other" provide society with the parameters, the "one hand" with the letter and/or wisdom of the law and the state, the "other hand" with violent/death threats and/or their quick implementation.

     And, true, the artist must have a sense of responsibility. But firstly a responsibility to himself and his cause, be it the cause of evangelical art, Marian art, punk art, bad art, or whatever. Restraint must be, but in fact is, part and parcel of the process of art-making itself wherein decisions of what to include and what not to include are a constant. But the question now is: who should nudge an artist's propensity to allow excess or shyness, himself or the state? Who shall have the post of The Measurer of excess or non-excess? Him? Me? You? Your mother? F. Sionil Jose? The Pope? The majority? The minority? The individual? Those are the questions.

     "Junk art is no art," true. Unless your art is "junk art" (subgenre of "found art"), which---after the conscious self-labeling or admission of the label---might qualify an art genre category assignation unto itself, and thus to be read according to this genre's elements and terms. It escapes Jose that in the same way the sonnet is its own art enjoyed differently from the way one enjoys the art of the epic poem, so installation art is its own niche art and language different from the artistic language of craft-driven photorealist painting. So, abstract expressionism and minimalist art are their own painting genres with concerns and ironies different from the concerns and ironies of a, say, religious hyper-realist work. This, in the same way that noise rock is an artistic musical genre with elements and a thesis separate from and independent of the standards and thesis of easy-listening Bing Crosby. So, therefore, the question now is: Who shall be appointed to the post of being the measurer of "artful"-ness and "artless"-ness among the different arts and their approaches to the enjoyable, their artistic languages, their theme treatment concerns, their ironies, their elements that comprise their language, their standards? Critics? Artists themselves, as their own best critics? Me? You? Your mother? F. Sionil Jose of PEN International? The Pope? Catholics? The Opus Dei? Protestants? Gnostics? Agnostics? Aniconists? Engineers? Psychiatrists? Haute cuisine chefs? Manicurists? Those are the questions.

     "Ethos" and "merit" were words waved by Mayuga's friend. But these concepts shall forever be debated on the surface of the earth as well as in the bunkers, and liberals and conservatives (in society and in art) shall forever be at each other's throat over these. Bearing this in mind, one can now go out into the day and clearly decide on his responsibilities---responsibilities to his faith, to his politics, or to his art.

     Well, okay, some others would say responsibility to the state, to the majority, or to his death-threatened family, but I would leave that to the bearer of his own mind who, in the end, will have to make up his own mind, . . . whether he decides on his responsibilities at the point of a gun or the point of resolving an artistic or thematic point.

I HAVE always been of the belief that free society has encumbered the individual with responsibilities that go with his freedom. The individual has to exercise his sense of measure in his quest for survival within the laissez-faire traffic of thoughts and decisions and actions in the social environment consisting too of others' freedoms. And so, in this society, responsibility readily resides in the individual. However, the state, for as long as it subscribes to the tenets of democracy that seek to protect the freedom of the individual, would have enacted laws that affirm as well as protect the equal freedoms of each one. Thus, freedom of expression, thus freedom of religion, and so on and so forth. Ideally in a free society, a society such as what the United States' laws and many European countries' laws seek to maintain, the state only interferes when an exercise of one's freedom hinders another's. For instance, one may deem it his right to cross any part of the highway at any time of the day, which may in turn hinder vehicle owners' right to a free-flowing highway devoid of potential human roadkill. The state would, and often does, interfere in such simple problematiques. However, when one spits on the name of a religion or a religious practice without hindering that religion from exercising its freedom to exist, it should be a no-brainer that the state cannot and must not interfere. Thus, the UK did not find it difficult to say that Salman Rushdie, who many Moslems deemed insulting, had the right to insult, even as the state did not share his "insult" (many mosques are allowed to exist in England).

     And so, now, we go to a suggestion to put up authority bodies akin to the Union of Soviet Writers passing judgment on the oppressive works of the Alexander Solzhenitsyns of our place and time. Regulation of artistic practice is being peddled as an attractive notion. Does this notion negate the ideal of a free society? I believe it does.

     True, when I agreed above that individual freedom does have its responsibilities, I did not only mean to allude to such Karl Popperian dictums on an open society as the individual's duty to be aggressive with his opinions while always on the ready to accept his obsolescence, I also meant to allude to the individual's sense of measure, restraint, and other social considerations. This sense may include such choices as civility, giving the other space to save face, avoiding provoking emotional limits, and so on. But in no way was I implying that I'd be in on the idea of forming authority bodies to police individual freedom. Thus my question, "who will decide for the individual, your mother?"

     The Union of Soviet Writers was one such "collegial body" as those being suggested for the Philippine democratic environment. It was appointed by the Soviet state to police individual writers. But it was perfectly understandable for the Soviet Union to come up with that, because the then-Union's concept of democracy was not intended for the individual but only for the collective. I, as a poet and fiction writer and blogging critic as well as a citizen of this republic, spit on the idea of any Philippine collective or committee deciding for the individual. Certainly we have fellow artists and fellow citizens as well as critics and self-appointed critics on blogs who have been given by the state their own freedom to denounce and malign an artist, but the denounced artist's own rights cannot be trampled on by their own respective freedoms.

OH YES, certainly there is that other option in a free society that is also mentioned as an ultimate course of action for those who've been offended by the CCP exhibition. Yes, indeed, there is always that option for legislators to turn the state into freer atmospheres or less free atmospheres.

     In the United States, for instance, some Republicans have been demanding that the state sponsor evangelical prayers in public schools as well as the putting up of statues of stalwart evangelical leaders of the pioneering era in public school campuses. That is certainly going in the direction of more freedom for evangelical devotees at the expense of Moslems, Catholics, Jews, Lutherans, and so on, who are themselves paying their taxes to the state. Do states do this kind of stuff at all? Yes, they do this all the time. And that is why there is always a see-saw of leaderships in the history of democracies, also because of citizens' demand for either more freedom or less freedom for others as time progresses or regresses. In our own state and time, for instance, we do not allow the freedom of the pornographer to exercise pornography, at least on paper. We do not recognize homosexuals' right of access to civil marriage. But at the same time, we have other freedoms that other democratic states don't have. Hundreds of barangay governments allow dog owners to turn our streets into canine toilets. Local peanut butter manufacturers are not policed by aflatoxin level guidelines. Philippine companies are allowed to discriminate against jobseekers by reason of their sex, religion or age.

     And so it is up to us as a nation of citizens, either by plurality voting perhaps or by the power of reason and mutual respect as per the decision of our representative democracy, to decide whether we want more freedom or less freedom in certain areas of our social existence and co-existences. Many do demand more "order," as some of those anti-CCP exhibition guys would put it, while many others also demand more freedom, recognizing perhaps that there is (or can be) order in the plurality of voices in our land. While some of the latter would allow that they might consider the requirements of civility in criticality, others are firm in their conviction that even such exercises as radical aniconism, iconoclasm and even downright artistic insults in the practice of an art have a place in an ideal democracy.

     Again, it is up to us as free individuals cum collectives of a free nation and open society to decide now whether we wish to diminish or expand our neighbor's roster of freedoms. And ponder, likewise, the consequences of any reduction or regulation both on them and ourselves.

NOW, CERTAINLY I could not avoid mentioning above the notion of violence and death threats resorted to as options by certain individuals in our society. For the very reason that THESE WERE RESORTED TO in the case of Mideo Cruz by certain apologists, I believe, of the Roman Catholic Church. Some say these threats were an Opus Dei crusade's signature, others say these were merely prank calls by Cruz's personal enemies. Whatever they were, they were there.
     And to assume---in Cruz's defense---that these external dynamics (death threats, and so on) are not part of the art is precisely to go back to the New Criticism belief in the integrity of the artwork ("what pertains only to the artwork") independent of the social space the artwork inhabits or invades. Remember that this social space ultimately owns the artwork as per this space's interpreters' majority take on the art. And while this independence of the art object is also called forth---by those denouncing Cruz's art---for a judgment of the artist qua artist, as if to claim they are merely judging the art as art (its integral elements) so to qualify its failure as art, those guys also clearly contradict themselves by calling in such writings as a George Steiner essay on literature, society and the inhuman or such lines as those from Albert Camus on moderation and excess, calling these good discourses on the "reach of literature" and "(by extension, art)". Incidentally, if I remember my Camusian and Sartreian existentialism correctly, wasn't it a philosophy that tried to throw responsibility back to the individual away from the state and moral authorities? Wasn't Camus' The Fall a portrait of one such moral authority in the process of questioning his own morality?

"WHAT'S THE bottomline?" the friend of my friend asked. "If we're to establish limitations on art and its expression, why? Is it at all possible to simplify matters into pros and cons/cost-and-benefit analyses? Are our fears and concerns about not putting limits on expression valid or not?"

     "May cons siyempre, pare," sabi ko. "If you're pro-X, you're bound to hear extreme pronouncements against your stand from anti-X and pro-Y folks. But the pros of an open society outnumber the cons. No one will stop you from putting out your own pronouncements against the stand of the anti-X and pro-Y. Most important of all, while it is hard to listen to the outbursts of a position in conflict with yours, it is far harder to live in a place where we keep each other from talking."

     Let me put up this proposal, I continued. What if we follow our other friend's suggestion and start applying that on Facebook, wherein a committee will have to review all opinions bordering on insults before one can press the Enter key. You want to try that experiment? Okey ako ro'n. But we should all be ready with the consequences. There will be a struggle to occupy seats in that committee, and God knows where it might all lead. Northern Ireland? Constantinople once again?

     "What I don't get here is why these lawmakers are putting more stock in prosecuting someone who supposedly 'hurt' sensibilities, totally overlooking the fact that somebody else actually threatened his life, destroyed property, and attempted to commit arson---what if the CCP burned to a crisp because of what he did? So it's perfectly understandable for people to threaten someone's life, maybe even take his life and burn his property if 'sensibilities' are offended?"

     Yan ang problema sa batas na yan na nagsasabing di mo puwedeng insultuhin ang anumang relihiyon, habang binibigyan natin ang relihiyon ng karapatan na insultuhin ang sinumang indibidwal, sabi ko. Ang isa pang problema dyan, wala akong alam na legislator na hindi beholden sa relihiyon at sa hatak ng boto ng institutionalized religion. Kung meron man, iilan ang sasama sa kanya sa pagpanukala na ibasura ang may kiling na batas na ito?

3. Art from now on, ano ba?

WE ARE all Barthes.

     But first, my friend the painter Marcel Antonio is right, the artist has the responsibility to manage the contextualities and impending contexts of his art, even---or specially---when the artist intends a free contextualization of his imagery vis a vis a plural or potentially antagonistic society. We might recall the machinations of absurdist plays, which---while they pronounced the absurdity of existence---yet were structured in such a way as to communicate those absurdities, in essence negating absurdness by packaging absurdities in consumer-friendly tetra paks within the library of orderly categorizations. Some absurdists were aware of that contradiction.

     Yet Mideo Cruz is also right in saying he can't control the audience, taking---I'd like to think---after Roland Barthes' extremist (?) assumption that each man reads a thing differently or that a man can read a thing in various different ways at various different times. Still, Marcel might still ask Mideo, "did you intend to control the audience in the first place?"

     I know where Marcel is coming from. We might take as an example the marketing of CDs or movies. A US version of a rock star's album would be tweaked to include another song in exchange for a removed song for its UK release. A band would refuse to play a popular song of theirs in certain areas of the world for reasons sometimes only privy to their managers and promoters. A Filipino movie that premiered in LA might be retitled and resubtitled for Cannes. In short, artists or their managers do manage contexts or impending contexts. Even Mitsubishi decided to do away with the name Pajero on one of their vehicles for Spain's market, understanding that in Spain "pajero" is the slang term for a wanker.

     Still, Mideo by Barthes would be right, for managers are sometimes surprised when their tweakings result in more controversy rather than the pacific atmosphere their engineering minds expected to find.

     So, what does this Mideo Cruz affair finally give us as a final context?

     Let us consider the absence of the old New Criticism approach to the artwork as integral to itself removed from the authority of the artist. Think, for example, what might have happened had Cruz died of dengue after putting up his art project without anybody except CCP authorities knowing about this "departure." Certainly we would still be screaming for the artist's explanation, placing that absence in the context of the art, say, as manifestation of fear and guilt. Later, we may become aware of the artist's demise. We would then find ourselves recontextualizing the art with that outside "old/new" reality attached: with, say, the artist's "death as gabâ" context, for one.

     Yet others might crop up, shouting celebratory slogans, declaring Cruz a hero of aniconism or even an inspiration to the ire of Islamic terrorists (who may not read the Qur'an but) who dismiss all Christian icons as imageries of the infidel. Cruz would not be there to announce his distance from any such causes.

     Could Cruz's constant refusal to answer intent part and parcel of his art? Is he feigning ignorance in order to test the extent of the Filipino audience's ability to weigh things? Is he being a pollster-artist? We don't know.

     Whatever the artistic intent, what does this affair finally give us as its final context as it evolves in the culture and zeitgeist of our land, amidst our people's minds today?

     To me and my humble semiotics, it is finally a test on our democracy. It goes beyond mere questions of taste that say, "punk rock is just noise and Bing Crosby's is real music" or "this is bad art and Marian art is the pinot noir of Philippine artistic achievements." It asks, furthermore, questions on the role of icons in Philippine Christian worship, the role this worship plays in Philippine state laws, and the state of Philippine politics today in relation to religious hegemonies. That is to me the final achievement of Cruz's work. It could be that he didn't intend that, but like you and me, who in this debate had been interested in what the artist wanted to say?

     We are all Barthes.

NOW, WAY before Barthes was born (1915) there was Marcel's namesake, Marcel Duchamp. A urinal is supposedly a non-art, mundane boring item. Put that in a gallery, however, and it becomes poetry ("Fountain", 1917).

     Barthes proposed that the mind has its own galleries. Like Duchamp, we can pick any bad art or ugly art or tramp art and turn that into brilliant art according to the reading of our mental galleries' considerations.

     I wouldn't, for example, be surprised if Barthes announced this imagery above as illustrative of the Catholic Church's crucifixion of the penis on top of the Christ (albeit the penis is now hard as wood) in the Church's present campaign for abstention and against masturbation. The Christ, meanwhile, while used as cross is simultaneously miscast as behind all this penile crucifixion.

     Nor be surprised if Barthes is to invoke a feminist take on the image as representing institutionalized Christianity as that phallic, male-centric movement for gender mainstreaming. Which, incidentally, was what Cruz---in an online magaizne interview---actually said was what that artpiece was all about.

     But Barthes is his own Barthes, separate from the Barthes in the artist. Many of my fellow Catholic friends are a different collective-Barthes altogether, with their own take on things. Thus their declarations of wanting to take over the state and barricade the bill of rights for their rewriting, towards the reification of their metanarrative.

WHILE WE'RE on Barthes, I'd like to call attention to his The Pleasure of the Text, wherein he made an effort to demonstrate a way by which reading can escape both the clutches of the vicious Left and the bourgeois Right. His vehicle of choice? Hedonism. Further, in A Lover's Discourse, he sought to come up with rhetoric that would veer away from socially-dictated meanings. He would essentially fail in both of these efforts, however, in the same way that Mideo Cruz (assuming he's also on this same path) failed to extricate himself from social contexts in a punk-like hedonistic immersion in supposedly "socially freed" image-making.

     Still, the point is not so much in the success or failure of the effort. It is in the effort, which by itself presupposes the existence of social dictators of meaning from which one seeks to escape. The furor over the effort only braced the point of that hegemony's existence.

A FRIEND of several friends commented, "I'm getting tired of this whole Brouhaha! Couldn't people just get a life?"

     To which I said, "I wish the continuing furor over the art project (yet for exhibition elsewhere) by some Catholics and media personnel would listen to you and leave art alone to exercise its freedom to blaspheme anything and anyone. But, no, they had to help art get a boost and a new life in the popular stream by being its talent manager and designing this 'scandal'. They could've just ignored the artpieces and enjoyed Mompo wine with pesto bread and Parmiggiano-Reggiano cheese, after which they might have had all the time to have siesta before the next Day of Obligation mass to be attended by the mayor's daughters." They could have flaunted forgiveness instead of anger and hatred.

     Another friend of a friend of a friend, meanwhile, said, "The artist is mad at Christianity. There's a sure sign that it's in his system."

     To which I offered, "I cannot speak for the artist but I can speak for my own reading of the artworks, as only I could and perhaps should for those interested. For there is such a thing as 'aniconism in Christianity', in contrast to aniconisms elsewhere, which therefore makes it not an extra-Christian attitude but one which had been at work within Christianity. Its manifestations is most remembered in Early Christianity before 325 AD, in the Byzantine iconoclasms of the 8th and 9th centuries (730-787 AD and 814-842 AD), in 16th cenutry Calvinism, and in 16th and 17th century Puritanism, but is definitely present in our century most notably in Christian Fundamentalism. It might be more apt to say the artwork is 'mad at Christian imagery, especially Catholic imagery'."

     Now, assuming this reading of mine (one of a few other readings I could muster) jives with the artist's own intent, what now?

     It's about time artists wake up to the reality bite of The Death of the Author, if they haven't already. That death can be for real, without being literal. Because art from now on, in a more compartmentalized world, shall be that struggle between the artist's silence outside of his art and the collective audience's noise within their own metanarratives upon art.

• F. Sionil Jose photo borrowed from http://www.philstar.com/Article.aspx?articleId=716740&publicationSubCategoryId=79
• Art installation fragment photo borrowed from http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=2351116256560&set=a.1142395559298.22078.1209724241&type=1