By Winston A. Marbella

The images linger on my mind: Steve Jobs walking confidently on stage for Apple’s latest product launch.  Only this time, he was not carrying any product.  Instead, he had tucked under his armpit a regular-sized manila envelope.

In due time, he emptied the envelope.  The audience gasped and held its breath.  Out came a gleaming gadget in a shade of aluminum, thin, elegant, light.

Jobs said it was the thinnest, lightest, most elegant laptop ever produced, light years ahead otf its time. The audience stood in awe; nobody would have believed otherwise.

In fact, Sony had introduced a thinner, lighter model two years ahead,  But it had cost twice as much, so nobody took notice.  And they did not have Steve Jobs to market it.

The event persists in my mind not because of the MacBok Air – although it was remarkable – but because Jobs had used a manila envelope – a MANILA envelope! – to stress the obvious.  Now perhaps the world will start using that word again with a capital “M.”

There he was at center stage, an icon of the technological age, unveiling the latest  device from probably the most iconic brand in technology, and using a product originally  made in the Philippines, to drive home his point.

Prodigious

Jobs had launched with as much hoopla the iPhone with a tactile, touch-sensitive face in the summer of 2007.  It had taken the world by storm.

Then, three months later, he launched the latest-generation iPod, an iPhone without a phone (!) but with a the same touch-sensitive face.  Both were smashing successes.

Together with iTunes and The Apple Store, these products marked the second coming of Jobs to Apple, the company he co-founded, which he had departed earlier after fiery disagreements with the board over the path Apple was to take to the future.

Jobs had cashed in his shares and bought a small company which he rebuilt with a small group of Apple employees.  That company became Pixar, and it revolutionized the film industry by using computer animation to bring us such blockbusters as “Toy Story.”

Apple floundered and, realizing its folly, the board invited Jobs back to put Apple back on track. They bought his company and made him Chief Executive Officer once again. Steve just wanted an annual salary of one dollar.

Mythology

In recounting what happened afterward, it is hard to separate fact from fiction, but the story is still worth retelling because Steve Jobs and Apple are mythical characters.

It is said that in its first meeting after the board hired him back, it had asked Jobs to spell out his vision for Apple.  Here the story goes magical.

Jobs reportedly put together prototypes of products that were in the pipeline, glued them to the four walls of the board room, and trashed them one by one until only three were left.  These three products, Jobs told the board, will be the future of Apple.

The three were the iPhone, the iPod, and the iPad.  Today, these devices touch the lives of hundreds of  millions of consumers as they trek a brave, new world into the future.

                                Most valuable company

Hundreds of millions of those products have been sold to make Apple the most valuable technology company in the world, now surpassing another icon, Microsoft.  For brief periods, Apple even surpassed Exxon Mobil as the most valuable company in the world. 

Last August, Jobs, 56, announced he was stepping down as Chief Executive.  Many took the news with sadness, but almost everyone knew it was coming.  Jobs had survived an often-termina pancreatic cancer and, later, a kidney transplant.  

He had taken medical leaves sporadically (one observer said he had been at work only three months the past year).  But he had put Apply firmly back on course and its future seemed secure.

At the launch of the second generation iPad early this year, Jobs had looked gaunt in his signature black turtleneck, faded jeans, and tattered sneakers.  He took the time to paint us a view of what he called the  “Post-PC World.”  It took him only 229 words!

Technology wed to liberal arts

“It’s in Apple’s DNA that technology alone is not enough,” Jobs said.  “It’s technology married with the liberal arts, married with the humanities, that give us the results that make our hearts sing….”

Perhaps nobody thought Jobs was delivering his valedictory as well.  But he might just as well have been.

Clearly he was closing the PC world he had impacted so boldly, and he could see the dawning of a new age, and that Apple was back on track.  After all, wasn’t it Apple that had said, “The best way to predict the future is to invent it”?

In a letter of resignation that closed an era, Jobs informed the board that he would like to stay on as Chairman, a job that had not been filled before perhaps in anticipation of this day, as a director, and as an employee.

He surely intended to be around, but he was leaving his day-to-day duties to an able team, people who had worked with him all these years. 

When he had fallen ill, he recalled, he had told the board he would be the first to let them know if he was unable to meet his duties as Chief Executive.

“Unfortunately, that day has come,“ he said with sadness. He said his thank-yous to friends and colleagues and signed his letter simply as “Steve.”

Now he is gone.

(E-mail mibc2006@gmail.com.) 

Source: http://marbellaonline.blogspot.com/2011/10/steves-manila-moment-pleasure-of-his.html

Winston A. Marbella

Mount Kilimanjaro is the highest peak in Africa.  It soars majestically in north-eastern Tanzania on the Indian Ocean coast of central Africa.  It dominates memory mainly because of Ernest Hemingway’s 1936 masterpiece, “The Snows of Kilimanjaro.”

Hemingway began that story with a haunting introduction:

“Kilimanjaro is a snow-covered mountain 19,710 feet high, and is said to be the highest mountain in Africa.  Its western summit is called the Masai “Ngaje Ngai,” the House of God.  Close to the western summit is the dried and frozen carcass of a leopard.  No one has explained what the leopard was seeking at that altitude.”

In 2009 Kilimanjaro figured prominently in the news after scientists warned its famous snows may be gone within five to six decades because of climate change.

More recently, a group of tourists climbing to the summit spotted a dog and took cell phone photos of it, a Tanzania newspaper reported.

After reaching the summit, four climbers needed to heed the call of nature.  They spotted the dog perched on a rock about a meter away.  They took pictures and showed these to their guide, who remarked a similar dog had been sighted ten years ago at one of the camps on the way up.

The trek to the summit takes five to six days.  If this is the same dog, the mystery is how it has survived the freezing temperatures.

Rodents who have adapted to the thin air are said to abound near the summit.  The dog may also have survived foraging for scraps in the camp sites.

Nobody has explained what the dog is seeking at that altitude.  If Hemingway were alive, he might be inspired to write a sequel, this time about the dog.

The climb up Kilimanjaro is considered one of the best treks still available on this planet, snow or no snow.

I had an urge to book the next tour.  The snows may soon be gone.  The leopard carcass may have blown with the wind.  But I may still find the dog, and–who knows–the spirit of Ernest Hemingway?

I called my travel agent.

A bubbly voice answered the phone.  “Serendipity Travel, may I help you?”

‘“Oh, yes.  Do you have tours in Africa?”

“Yes, sir.  We just booked a group for the Serengeti Safari.  But they do this all the time this time of year, so we can put you on the next one.”

“I had something else in mind, you know, something off the beaten track?”

“What did you have in mind, sir?”

“A trek up Kilimanjaro?”

A pause.  Then a deep breath.

“I heard that,” I said.

“Sorry, sir, we don’t have that.  But the Serengeti Safari is really a lot of fun … lions, elephants, giraffe…”

“But that’s like going to the zoo … kid stuff.”

“The lions, sir, they’re a lot of fun.  Sometimes, they chase after your Land Rover.”

“Have they caught any people lately?

“Oh, no, sir.  The Land Rovers are much faster.  But it’s a wild ride.  Takes your breath away.”

“How about if I took the Serengeti Safari and leased the Land Rover for the trek up Kilimanjaro?  Can you arrange that for me?”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible, sir.  But what would you be doing up Kilimanjaro, if you don’t mind my asking, sir?

“You see, there’s this dog they spotted recently near the summit …”

“Oh, that!”

“Yes, that.” 

“Not much in that, sir.  Just looks like an overgrown Chihuahua,”

“How did you know that?”

“Facebook, sir.”

“I still like to see the dog.  It might be an Azkal.”

“I understand the dog is gone, sir.  They’re blaming some Filipino tourists who went up the summit…”

I took a deep breath.   

“Sir?” 

“I’m here.”

“They have found the dried leopard carcass, and the climate scientists have revised their forecast about the snow disappearing.  The Safari is still the better buy, if you ask me, sir.”

I paused to catch my breath.

“I heard that, sir!  Sir…?

“Okay, then.  I’ll skip the dog and take my chances with the lions.”

She started to say something, but I did nor hear her for the beating of my heart.

Source: http://marbellaonline.blogspot.com/2011/09/hemingways-mountain.html

Marbella Online is an on-line journal with articles on Philippine history, government, politics, culture, technology, environment, social issues, as well as management training, strategic planning, and marketing strategy.

The storied Bicol Express resumed its daily run last week to the typhoon-lashed, flood-ravaged southern peninsula, bringing back memories of days gone by, “when life was slow and oh so mellow,” as the old song from the Broadway hit musical “The Fantasticks” goes.

Daily service was cut five years ago when a strong typhoon devastated the region.

The trips are served by a dining coach and offer private sleeper beds and reclining seats, among other amenities—a quantum leap from those in 1938, when the first trains rolled off the historic Tutuban station in Manila. The run to Naga City, home of the miraculous Virgin of Peñafrancia, would take a shade below 10 hours.

Apart from the expected economic benefits, the resumption of the railroad link also brings back memories of postwar rebirth and reconstruction.

As my graduation gift for finishing grade school, my father gave me a round trip ticket to the family roots in Albay province via the Bicol Express, which connected the peninsula to Manila’s trade and commerce, its economic lifeline after World War II.

With me on the trip were my mother and elder sister, who looked more excited than I was over the chance to meet relatives and friends on familiar grounds. The family had moved to Manila when I was barely two years old, and I had but vague memories of my hometown.

We boarded the train at San Lazaro station, the first stop after Tutuban, which has now been restored as a national relic. San Lazaro served the Rizal Avenue and Blumentritt area and was less of a hassle than the main terminal at Tutuban.

My uncles Romeo and Sergio, who had moved to the city with us and were in high school, begged to be on this trip. But they unfortunately were the designated housekeepers and had to stay behind.

The pain in their eyes I cannot forget to this day as they lifted us to the cabin.

The Orient Express

I had browsed my father’s yellowed copy of Agatha Christie’s “Murder on the Orient Express,” and had visions of memorable scenes dancing in my head as we settled down on our wooden benches. The amenities were nowhere near those described in the mystery thriller, but that did not dampen my sense of adventure.

I remember the stop at Paco station, which lasted longer than usual because of a large number of passengers and cargo going on board. It was past seven in the evening as we hurtled down minor stations in Laguna, taking on new passengers and disgorging them several stations onward.

The next major stop was in Lucena, Quezon province, and I remember being roused from sleep by the cackling of chickens in cages being hauled on board. The smell assaults you in a way you will remember all its nuances for the rest of your life.

Luckily for me, the chickens disembarked at the next major station in Daet, Camarines Norte. Used to the sounds of Manila, I could now detect a strange mixture of Tagalog and Bicolano being spoken by the people.

The gold rush in the nearby town of Paracale was still fresh in my memory, and I overheard two miners telling stories of nuggets they found in rivers near the mines.

The next stop would be Naga, the first big town considered as the real Bicol in the province of Camarines Sur. I took the time to sleep—when it was possible to do so above all the clatter of the railroad.

Out of breath

My adrenalin was still flowing from the perilous zigzag in Quezon, scene of many train wrecks and now of fatal bus accidents. But we navigated that without incident, even if at times the steam locomotive sounded like it was huffing and puffing and would never make it to the top of the hill.

The stop in Naga, like the stops in Lucena and Daet, gave passengers time to stretch and buy delicacies offered by hawkers. I had my first taste of suman boiled in coconut milk, and it was a delight.

Soon we were chugging along again. The train conductor said the next stop would be Iriga, but he advised passengers to go back to sleep, for at dawn we would be near the base of world-famous Mayon Volcano, the one with the near-perfect cone.

I requested the conductor to rouse me at the first sign of the mountain, but I soon found out there was no need for that.

An ear for engines

After hours on the train, you develop an ear for the various sounds the steam engine makes. The locomotive sounds differently when it decelerates for a bend or struggles uphill. Downhill, the engine sings, freed from its heavy load by the tug of gravity.

I sensed we were near the base of the volcano for I could hear the train struggling. Apart from the uphill climb, there was also the slight pull of centrifugal force. Dawn was breaking and the volcano loomed large in our windows.

Seeing the volcano up close, you get a sense of just how immensely beautiful it is. The name Mayon is a contraction of the Bicol word “magayon,” meaning beautiful. But it means more than that, for as always something gets lost in the translation: It evokes the image a beautiful maiden of a Bicolano’s dreams.

Above the shrill screech of steel wheels struggling to keep a grip on the rails boomed the conductor’s urgent yell: “Dapa! Dapa!” No translation needed; it means the same thing in Tagalog and Bicolano.

In a blink, everyone was on the floor.

When the all-clear signal was given, some passengers who were obviously on their first train ride like me asked what that was all about. I could hear the conductor explain: Apparently it was standard practice when rounding a perilous bend around the volcano. The belief was that lowering the train’s center of gravity made the turn safer.

Live physics lesson

I could not believe my ears, for it seemed to make no sense. But I decided to look it up in high school physics class as soon as school opened.

Soon the stations flashed names of familiar places. “Camalig,” my father’s hometown. “Daraga,” with its church built on a hill, the older one having been buried in lava. Daraga is maiden in English. Daragang magayon was mother’s hometown.

A welcoming party of friends and kin was waiting for us at the stop in Albay, where we were to disembark, for it was closest to our temporary quarters. A short hop away was the end of the line, Legazpi City, named for the Spanish conquistador Miguel Lopez de Legazpi, where the volcano’s slopes meet the sea in the picturesque Gulf of Albay.

We had a whale of a feast for breakfast, which lasted till lunch, which in turn lasted till the afternoon. It seemed like the day would never end.

There were endless stories to tell, but what I remembered most above the babel of tongues were the warm hugs that only people in a Manila boy’s hometown could give.

Gift of memory

The succeeding trips to Calayucay beach, the trek up Mayon’s slopes that had boulders the size of buildings, and the eerie sight of the Cagsawa church belfry sticking out from a bed of lava, left indelible imprints in the mind. But the warm memories left in the boy’s heart could linger to last a man’s lifetime.

In Evelyn Waugh’s “Brideshead Revisited,” the narrator reflects on his life. “These memories, which are my life—for we possess certainly nothing except the past—were always with me.”

The trip back to Manila was like an old film being played backward and in slow motion. I lingered in the memories of that summer vacation frame by poignant frame, hoping that somehow I could extend my stay in my hometown just a little bit longer.

But knowing how way leads on to way, I wondered how a 12-year-old boy, having come of age that summer, shall ever come back.

Editor’s Note: The author is chief executive of a think-tank specializing in transforming social and political trends into public policy and business strategy.

(DzIQ Radyo Inquirer 990 and Inquirer Libre are exclusive partners of Philippine National Railways.)

HOW CAN one say he is a Catholic and ignore the teachings of his religion? Why be a Catholic if one thinks his religion is erroneous? Is there pride and truth in being an egoistic Catholic? Are such Catholics who fill up the church and who participate in the same rituals, say the same prayers, and profess the same beliefs in both God and the Church’s commandments sincere or hypocritical?

Pro-RH lawmakers insist they are Catholics but in the same breath disagree with the Catholic hierarchy’s rejection of the RH bill. This constitutes contradiction of the first degree.

Oneness in doctrine is one of the conditions defining Catholicism. The second is holiness of origin, and the third is apostolic succession. Holiness means that the Church is holy because it has been established by Jesus Christ who is Himself holy and that it is guided by the Holy Spirit in the proclamation of the truth and the administration of sacraments. Apostolic means that the Church traces its authenticity and heritage to the apostles who were instructed by Jesus Christ to evangelize the world headed by the apostle Peter: “Thou art Peter and upon this rock I will build my Church and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. To thee I will give the keys to the kingdom of Heaven and whatsoever thou shall bind on earth shall also be bound in Heaven. And whatever thou shall loose on earth shall also be loosed in Heaven.”

From this awesome passage in the Holy Scripture declaring the wisdom, love and trust of God, the Church grew and prospered organizationally and doctrinally under the guidance of the Holy Spirit beginning right after Pentecost.

The Catholic Church is firm in its stand that the killing of the unborn is intrinsically evil, a morality issue. And that the right to life and its preservation are guaranteed by the Constitution and that Catholics are free to practice their religious beliefs. If enacted into law the RH bill will be coercive for Catholics because they will be legislated to act against their faith and their will.

In the legislature, we have politicians who push for the enactment of the RH bill while proudly proclaiming that they are Catholics. They become evasive and rhetorical in confronting the Catholic objection to the bill’s birth control objectives which prescribe abortion-inducing abortifacients, contraceptives and invasive means such as ligation and sterilization.

The occurrence in contemporary times of Catholics who do not share the official teachings of the Church’s magisterium is widespread in the United States, the melting pot of rights and freedom for individual thinking and judgment.

Catholics who choose what or what not to believe in the composite teachings of the Church are popularly called “cafeteria Catholics.” Just like in a turo-turo restaurant, they choose to eat only what they like and skip those that don’t appeal to their taste.

Relativism, the “ism” that spawned cafeteria Catholics, was influenced by several philosophical, economic and scientific developments that took place during the last two centuries. In Central Europe, these developments caused the shift of societies’ dependence on the Christian religion as a way of life. The change was labeled as a shift from belief to unbelief. The late Russian Nobel prize-novelist Alexander Solzhenitsyn called it anthropocentricity, with makes man the center of everything that exists. One religious philosopher even redefined God as a “progressive providence,” almost modifying the axiom that truth is permanent and unchangeable.

The last century featured decades of more scientific breakthroughs in medicine, food production, engineering, transportation and communication technologies. The advances in marketing and distribution gave birth to globalization of business and consumer habits, further upgrading lifestyles and multiple-choice consumerism in a pluralistic society. The politics of democracy began to manifest its righteousness in the name of freedom, emphasizing human rights as the end-all and be-all in entertaining all possible human needs in pursuit of individualistic pleasures and conveniences, dimming and deadening Christian morality in human awareness and consequent acts.

Relativism has long encroached on the modern urban societies of the Western World, causing changes in both the political, social and religious tradition of politics and culture of the country.

Cafeteria Catholics exemplify this change from belief to unbelief in this age of modernism, affecting not only the legislation of our politics but also the behavior of our constituency.

To preserve the integrity of their faith, Catholics must re-study and re-learn their religion in order to gain depth in and perspective on their faith. They must discern not only the role of faith and reason in enhancing their adherence to the Gospel but also the doctrinal beauty and power of their catechism.

Minyong Ordoñez is a freelance journalist and a member of the Manila Overseas Press Club. Email: hgordonez@gmail.com

BusinessWorld Online

Posted on May 17, 2011

By Minyong Ordoñez

President P-Noy’s public declaration in support of the RH Bill caused the Catholic Hierarchy to back out from another dialogue in Malacañang. The Catholic Bishops Conference of the Philippines (CBCP) was left with no option but to swim against the current to manifest their objection against the RH Bill.

The bill’s abortifacient prescriptive birth control program (a violation of the constitutional right to life) packaged with euphemistic titles, Reproductive Health or Responsible Parenthood (P-Noy’s preference) is premised on the theory that too many people make our country poor, a theory that’s highly misleading according to empirical proofs presented by the anti-RH advocates former Senator Joey Lina and Congressman Roilo Golez.

Hegemonic Populism

In past surveys of the Social Weather Stations (SWS), more than 50% approval ratings registered as a solution to alleviate poverty, promote knowledge and health among women with unwanted pregnancies. The high survey scores made the RH bill a compelling populist cause in the minds of law-makers sponsoring the bill. They ignored the morality (doctrinal) issuebeing raised by the Catholic Hierarchy (a violation of the rights to practice one’s religious belief).

The populist appeal of the RH Bill was further influenced by existing mind-sets coming to our shores from liberal, pluralistic, and consumerist societies of the Western world. These mind-sets are: a) Freudian (Limiting sex is killjoy) b) Materialism (Pleasures…Yes! Sacrifice… No!) c) Socialism (Fewer people, better lives) d) Individualism (Morality is my personal judgment call, not God’s) e) Modernism (Iba na ngayon, di tulad ni Lola noon) and f) Feminism (female gender’s assertion of equality and status)

One of the RH aftermaths, least discussed — perhaps out of trepidation — by print and TV media talk shows is a silent but deadly communal dysfunction that disrespects and dishonors life in a civilized society. Only Blessed John Paul II had the fortitude to conceptualize it with alarming clarity. The good Pope calls it “The Culture of Death.”

Subverting Family Values

The culture of a people, the Filipino culture in our case, defines our racial identity. Culture manifests goodness and virtues, creativity, and accomplishments in symmetry with the material and spiritual faculties of the people. Culture is the bedrock of a nation’s continuity, unity, subsidiarity, and dignity. And lovability too. We Filipinos are disarmingly called the happiest, most hospitable people on this side of the planet, a national character that originates from our profound celebration of the joy and sanctity of life. No racial pride or culture can evolve based on self-destructive and sinful acts of a people.

Filipino values, the microcosm of Filipino culture will be subverted by the licentious attitude and behavior of RH Bill executors. A contraception/abortifacient user collective mentality will subvert the existing norm of parental/maternal instincts or the formative formula for a child’s upbringing which teaches and monitors virtues such as self-discipline, respect for a woman’s innate modesty, fidelity in marriage, obedience to parents, and fear of God. A complete subversion of the noble role of parents — as the nurturer of the strong moral fiber of their progeny — will result due to the built-in amorality in the RH Bill. We are not free even in the name of freedom to kill human beings no matter what UN demographers, World Bank funders of birth control, social engineers, and despots like Pol Pot and Hitler think.

Futuristic and Transcendent

The Catholic Church’s concern for humanity is always futuristic and transcendent. Two thousand years of existence enabled the church to stack up on the wisdoms of the ages. The church is a living witness to the follies of histories and civilizations, from the fall of the Roman Empire to Nazism’s ethnic cleansing of the Jews and the self-destruction of atheistic communism.

It’s not fair to tag bishops and priests as “medieval,” persons out of tune with modern times or get caricatured by irreverent village clowns as “Damaso.” The church has 2,000 years history of evangelization. No human and divine institution can claim that longevity except the Catholic Church, validated by her Petrine authority and scriptural heritage.

No religion on earth will survive if it does not preach obedience to a set of doctrines — using faith and reason — to fulfill the immortal aspirations of man. No country in the world will survive if the spiritual aspirations of its constituent is ignored or trampled upon by the state.

Man does not live by bread alone. For this the Catholic Hierarchy and its faithful flock will swim against the current. It takes wisdom not hubris.

Minyong Ordoñez is a freelance journalist and a member of the Manila Overseas Press Club.

E-mail: hgordonez@gmail.com

MANILA, Philippines—The Message of Pope Benedict XVI for World Migrant and Refugee Day last January 16, 2011 has for its theme: “One Human Family.” Because of our history and geography, the close to ten million Filipinos overseas workers spread out in about 200 countries all over the world can contribute significantly to attaining the vision of the Holy Father. In his message, he wrote: “This profound link between all human beings is the origin of the theme that I have chosen for our reflection this year: ‘One human family’, one family of brothers and sisters in societies that are becoming ever more multiethnic and intercultural, where also people of various religions are urged to take part in dialogue so that a serene and fruitful coexistence with respect for legitimate differences may be found. The Second Vatical Council affirms that ‘All people are one community and have one origin, because God caused the whole human race to dwell on the face of the earth (cf. Acts 17:26); they also have one final end, God” (Message for the World Day of Peace, 2008,1)….Thus, “We do not live alongside one another purely by chance; all of us are progressing along a common path as men and women, and thus as brothers and sisters” (Message for the World Day of Peace, 2008,6).

In Asia, we Filipinos are among the most multiethnic and intercultural. Before the Spaniards came to our land, there were waves of migrants from South China and from Mainland China. Then there were the Indians. We were then colonized by Western powers, first by the Spaniards, then by the Americans. Before and during the Japanese occupation, Japanese farmers and soldiers gave us a brief exposure to Japanese culture. Today, we are witnessing a substantial presence of South Koreans. In short, Filipinos are among the most adaptable to different cultures, both oriental and western. That is why, our OFWs are found in every corner of this planet. There are no culture and no climate that are too alien for them.

In my travels to both North America and Europe, I observe that Filipinos do not live in ghettos as other immigrant workers do. They are among the most integrated into the indigenous population. It is much easier for them to intermarry with the locals. They patronize all the ethnic restaurants, whether Japanese, Vietnamese, Chinese, Korean, etc. One can hardly find a “Filipino” restaurant in the key cities where there are OFWs. Thanks to their facility with languages, Filipinos pick up foreign languages very quickly. For obvious reasons, in predominantly Christian countries like Italy and Spain, OFWs are among the most appreciated, especially in the households, restaurants, hotels and establishments requiring personal services. Filipinos can contribute significantly to the “one human family” of which Pope Benedict XVI speaks.

It is no exaggeration to say that Filipinos are among the most globalized of peoples in the world. These words of Pope Benedict XVI fit them to a T: “In an increasingly globalized society, the common good and the effort to obtain it cannot fail to assume the dimensions of the whole human family, that is to say, the community of peoples and nations, in such a way as to shape the earthly city in unity and peace, rendering it to some degree an anticipation and a prefiguration of the undivided city of God. This is also the perspective with which to look at the reality of migration. In fact, as the Servant of God Paul VI formerly noted, ‘the weakening of brotherly ties between individuals and nations is a profound cause of underdevelopment and–we may add–has a major impact on the migration phenomenon. Human brotherhood is the, at times surprising, experience of a relationship that unites, of a profound bond with the other, different from me, based on the simple fact of being human beings. Assumed and lived responsibly, it fosters a life of communion and sharing with all and in particular with migrants; it supports the gift of self to others, for their good, for the good of all, in the local national and world political communities.”

God always draws good out of bad situations. It was, humanly speaking, a bad thing that the Philippines lost its initial advantage as one of the most developed nations in Asia after the Second World War because of unenlightened economic policies, mismanagement and corruption. By the 1980s, we were known as the “sick man of Asia.” Millions of Filipinos migrated abroad to look for better economic opportunities. This Filipino diaspora is providentially contributing to the “one human family” of which Pope Benedict XVI speaks. At the religious level, Filipino Catholics are helping to strengthen the local churches wherever they go, giving life to parishes all over the world. Filipino Catholics are also contributing their share to the great vision of Pope Benedict XVI to rechristianize Europe. In practically all the major Western European countries, Filipino migrants are showing by the example of their lives what it means to practise their faith in a secularized and often hostile environment. For comments, my email address is bvillegas@uap.edu.ph.

YOU ARE A COMPLEAT MARKETING GENIUS

Saturday, April 2, 2011 11:35 AM

From: “Manoling de Leon” <manolingdeleon@rocketmail.com>

To: “Steve Jobs” <sjobs@apple.com>

Dear Mr. Jobs,

I am a Filipino who have watched your progress as a businessman and a private individual since I read about your initial business success when you were still in your twenties.

I tried to be user of a personal computer when I bought a copy of your pc apple from Taiwan in 1973, I think.  But gave it up and passed it on to my young children.  They became computer literate at an early age. I never bothered to attempt anymore, but hoping still that someday an easy to use pc for techno- peasant like me will enter the market sooner or later. And I keep up to the date on the general progress of digital information technology by following what Chairman Negroponte says occasionally.

I am an experienced marketing professional having been an AE in JWT advertising agency here in the Philippines, then product manager to advertising director in Unilever, then moved to a mass media (TV, Radio & Newspaper) firm as my last employment before I struck out on my own and ventured into various sort of business opportunities in my home country and abroad. Now I just sit in boards and do limited business consultancy work, I am going to be 80 years old this year, and in August, my wife and I will celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary.

I venture that I have enough credentials to name you The Compleat Marketing-Genius in my lifetime.

I decided to send you this note, because I am convinced that your business philosophy is:

- to make consumers happily productive in whatever occupies them, with your lovable Apple Products

- this is what I repeatedly observe with persons who have your products… They never stop caressing them and while doing so with smile on their faces

- and you want them to become happier continuously by never stopping to launch new products that will make them happier

- in this process you stay happy and earn lots of happy money for your family and social concerns

- finally, about six months ago I got my iPad, and a month ago my iPhone4

- without exaggeration, at this age of 80 my productivity increased at least five- fold.

So Mr. Steve Jobs, I thank you with all my heart, and I will keep on praying that you stay on the “happines” job for many many more years.  I am convinced that this is also the wish of millions of Apple users the world over.

May God continue blessing you.

Sincerely,

Manoling de Leon
16 Polk Street
North Greenhills
San Juan City 1503
Philippines

LET’S NOT get fooled by the hullabaloo over the Azkals. It’s nothing but fleeting idolatry. Girls shriek at the sight of the handsome Younghusbands (they’re single) recruited from England. They’re of tisoy variety (matangos ang ilong) who do the job of scoring goals. To complete the team we added a few more half-breeds with OFW DNA and some local wannabes. Only Chieffy Caligdong, the short and swarthy Bisaya, is a bona fide native star striker (he did that magical trick shot against Mongolia but got no shrieks from the girls).

The Azkals team was assembled hurriedly. What we are experiencing is nothing but a passing fancy. No siree! We are not a football nation at all.

To become a real football nation, here are questions that must be answered with a yes.

Will we have football fields (it only requires flattening the ground) in every town and city? And barrios too?

Will we have a genuine program for training coaches, trainers, referees and managers available for every town and city tournaments? The last time I watched grassroot football in Laguna, a kindergarten marm acted as coach and she knew only five words: Takbo! Bilis! Sipa! Ayyyy outside!

Will there be hundreds of bush leagues nationwide to stimulate competitions among children in the municipal and grassroot level?

Will shoemakers in Liliw and Marikina make affordable football shoes for boys coming from average or poor income families?

Will big business put big sponsorship money behind teams to hasten and widen football athleticism nationwide?

Will sportswriters finally understand and appreciate the concept of football as the Beautiful Game? Sensationalize football’s great moments? Create new and exciting football super heroes?

And finally, will we build Olympic-size football stadiums (build them and they’ll come) in Luzon, Visayas and Mindanao with 20,000 to 40,000 audience capacity, so that we can hold international tournaments of world-class standards?

World-class football is supreme and awesome—in terms of global size audience, in terms of revenue generated, in terms of spectator involvement.

Europe and South America best project football as the Beautiful Game. It’s in their peoples’ culture. A religion for hard-boiled disciples.

Why religion? Why the madness? What’s the aesthetics? What’s the magnetism? Why worldwide?

The details of the game approaches art. The soul of the game is triumphalism. Football has got depth. It stands for people’s aspiration for perfection, the embracing of struggle, the spirituality of winning.

Football is the stuff of spectator sports, the frenzy of the spectacle capable of packing a mega-size stadium with 30,000 to 50,000 madding crowd, men and women of all ages, races, colors, beliefs and economic class.

The big idea in football is power and perfection of the male anatomy. A neuromuscular excellence. Feet executing dexterous ball handling. Legs doing power runs. Heads driving kabesada goals. Upper body as defensive shield. Breast as expert catcher. These are non-conventional sports anatomy parts that are put into play. In action, they juxtapose the gracefulness of ballet and the strength of brute force.

The game projects metaphors pregnant with meanings and images that mesmerize. A black panther lunges—that’s Drogba’s muscle memory. A rhino charges—Rooney’s got bulk. Slalom racer escapes—Messi plays magic to score. A steep dive tackle—Lampard’s got killer instinct. Dribbling tricks on the run—it’s Ronaldo’s chutzpah. Formula One acceleration—Roben on a sprint. And of course, sex appeal—Ahh! David Beckham.

The game is long because the struggle is hard. The field is huge because it is a battlefield. The score is low because it is an extremely difficult game. But never boring. The most amazing plays are connective kick passes patterned like a crazy cut, or a slalom course, or a clean, smooth getaway. Fast, accurate, unexpected and edgy, this kick passes are works of geniuses equipped with a third eye. Even a nil-nil (0-0) is full of excitement because passion and intensity prevail. Footballers, win or lose, shed tears after a championship game. They have ritualized sportsmanship by offering their shirts to each other after the game.

Football epitomizes fair play. There are no size advantages (no bully dunk shots from 7-foot freaks). No racial bigotry because it is truly a globalized game. Star players are recruited from Africa, Middle East, South America, Eastern Europe and Asia to play in the big leagues in Spain, Italy, France and the United Kingdom. Star players are global icons with million-dollar contracts.

Let’s play the beautiful game seriously. We Filipinos have the excellent physique that’s fit for football. We have the big heart to win.

Anybody who says Filipinos are only good at the pool table better go jump in the lake.

Minyong Ordoñez is a freelance journalist and a member of the Manila Overseas Press Club. Email: hgordonez@gmail.com

Filed Under: Edsa 1, Benigno Aquino III, Cory Aquino, People power, history

MANILA, Philippines—The biggest asset of the Aquino presidency is intangible—and that is why it is so elusive. It resides in our collective memory as a nation eternally grateful to the first President Aquino for everything she did to restore our freedoms and regain our self-respect as a people.

But this intangibility is also the current Aquino presidency’s greatest weakness, for it could lead to an indolence of the spirit, with its revolutionary fervor reveling in the glories of the past, forgetting the hard challenges of making a country work, and building a nation on the glorious foundations of the 1986 People Power revolution.

After the euphoria of the first Edsa revolution had died down, and for every year since then when we tried to rekindle the embers of a patriotic episode in our memory, historians and pundits have wondered—in almost an annual ritual of self-flagellation—how and why we have squandered so precious a moment in our history.

The lost opportunity rankles in our mind and we try to reach back across time to try to figure out where we missed the possibilities. It may be necessary to reconstruct the historical narrative to gain a handle on how to proceed.

Seven months into a 72-month term, Benigno S. Aquino III—like most of us—remains shackled to a past that vaulted him to a presidency largely on the strength of a people’s enduring affection for his mother. This historical fact was glaringly made visible again in the commemoration of President Cory’s birthday last month.

Many of the people who engineered the first People Power revolution, and now the heirs of that revolution who cleverly leveraged that precious legacy into another crack at historical relevance, know only too well how important are those memories in the current president’s ascent to the throne his mother had occupied.

In the subsequent retelling of the presidential campaign of 2009-2010, campaign insiders, even those instrumental to convincing Mr. Aquino to seize the moment, have admitted publicly that the emotional outpouring that attended his mother’s funeral in August 2009 was too precious a moment to let pass.

Intuitive sense

Mr. Aquino sensed the historical impact of the moment himself. Unable to contain the flood of emotions that must have overwhelmed him while he rode in the family bus on that long, arduous trek to his mother’s tomb, he had taken off his formal shirt and, in his undershirt, ran with supporters toward his mother’s final resting place beside the martyr she had willingly given up for country, her beloved husband, Ninoy.

Mr. Aquino’s decision to run beside supporters for the rest of the way was instinctive. It will take many weeks more before he would intellectualize the moment and make a conscious decision to run for president.

There would still be the usual consultations with his four sisters and their families, and the almost ritual prayers for spiritual guidance with the Pink Sister nuns his mother had loved so dearly, before he would make a formal announcement.

But when he decided to depart the bus and run the rest of the way to her grave, he had, unconsciously perhaps, also made a decision to occupy her throne in the people’s hearts. In the fading hours of daylight the die was cast. His eventual election would be history.

The Aquino campaign knew how to rekindle the memories of a poignant past to gain an early head start: The yellow ribbons that blossomed to welcome Ninoy Aquino’s homecoming. The patriotic songs that ignited a nation’s passion over his assassination. The touching battle cry “Hindi Ka Nag-iisa!” (You are not alone) that accompanied him to his grave. Even the defiant Laban sign boldly thrust in your face.

The symbols reignited emotions of old and the passions flared again.

Now what?

Search for meaning

To chart our future course, it may help to recall whence we came. To understand the legacy of Edsa we have first to know its meaning.

Edsa was not the end of the journey, but the beginning of one. The trek to the Promised Land continues, now in the presidency of the second Aquino. It is a work still in progress, almost a Pilgrim’s Progress, for it requires no less than a transformation of our inner selves to finish the job. It is almost like the Book of Exodus being replayed in our time.

After having led his people out of slavery in Egypt, Moses had to teach them how to build a nation, and how to deserve one. Moses himself never made it to the Promised Land, for they meandered in the wilderness for 40 years—two generations by biblical reckoning—to learn the rudiments of statecraft after having lived without a nation of their own for so long.

The parents and their children, born in slavery in a foreign land, had no clue about the responsibilities of nationhood, much less the tricky craft of governance.

President Cory led us out of slavery, both physically and spiritually. Hungry and thirsty, the people wanted more from her, as if what she had done was not enough for one life’s work. We did not know that she had done enough, and that her task was now ours to complete.

She parted the Red Sea to show us an ocean of possibilities—and we squandered the opportunities.

Leading us to the Promised Land now seems the easy part. Building a nation is the hard part—and nobody will do it for us. We will have to put our collective shoulders to the wheel and put our surgically enhanced tall noses closer to the grindstone.

A damaged culture?

The notable writer James Fallows, writing for the prestigious The Atlantic, took more than the usual cursory look at the Edsa phenomenon in writing his piece, “A Damaged Culture: A New Philippines?” after staying six weeks in the country. Returning in 1987, he observed:

“Especially on my second trip to the Philippines, in the summer, many Filipinos told me that (Cory) Aquino had become strangely passive in office, acting as if her only task was to get rid of Marcos and ride out the periodic coups, rumored or real. As long as she did those jobs—that is, stayed in office—she did not feel driven to do much else.”

Concluding that not much else was bound to change in the Philippines, Fallows concluded: “America knows just what it will do to defend Corazon Aquino against usurpers, like those who planned the last attempted coup…. But we might start thinking ahead to what we’ll do if the anti-coup campaign is successful—to what will happen when Aquino stays in, and the culture doesn’t change, and everything gets worse.”

In fact, things got worse before they got better, during the term of Cory’s designated successor, President Fidel V. Ramos, and then got worse again. The following year, in a more thoroughly researched piece for the London-based New Left Review, “Cacique Democracy in the Philippines: Origins and Dreams,” Benedict Anderson arrived at basically the same dark conclusion.

Because the Aquinos and the Cojuangcos of Tarlac had come from the same power elite that had ruled the Philippines since colonial times (Spanish and American), Anderson found it highly improbable that Cory would find the political will to dismantle the power structure whence she came.

Imagined nation

The similar conclusions seem to come from the all-too-predictable expectation that the sitting president can in fact will things to happen over and above a power structure of the same origins, and therefore the same inclinations, especially if we take seriously Anderson’s earlier scholarly work, “Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origins and Spread of Nationalism.” In this landmark book, Anderson shared new insight into our understanding of how nations become functioning states: “In an anthropological spirit… a nation… is an imagined political community…. It is imagined because the members of even the smallest nation will never know most of their fellow members, meet them, or even hear of them, yet in the minds of each lives the image of their communion….”

In this sense, then, this is Cory’s enduring legacy to us. She gave us a sense of communion. Perhaps it is unkind—or even excessive—to expect much more of her.

Unlike her husband, Ninoy, to whom politics was second nature, if not first, Cory was a convent school girl who had lived a sheltered life, yes, in a cacique family atmosphere. She had no choice in that life of privilege. But where she had choices to make, she embraced the difficult ones.

She could have chosen to continue living a life of privilege, and nobody would have faulted her for that. She already had given her country her husband. Yet she chose to serve, perhaps in her own mind just to preside over the transition back to freedom and a democratic state.

Perhaps, this was the “strangely passive” behavior that Fallows’ sources had noted early into her presidency. Thrust by historical forces outside her comfort zone, mostly at the urging of a patriotically driven people who would later do the same thing to her only son, Cory did not find governance her cup of cacique tea.

Moment of truth

She was out of her element and she knew it. And so she retired after one term, although constitutionally she could have aspired to a second. Why she declined a second term can be discerned in a conversation she had with the multi-awarded American journalist Stanley Karnow, who wrote America’s Empire in the Philippines:

“I reached the point,” she told Karnow, “when I knew that I was president, not Ninoy, and that I had to make the decisions.”

Karnow continued: “Certainly, she conceded, she had not done enough. But, as she phrased it, ‘there is no school for presidents.’ She was accumulating experience as she went along, and dealing (with it) “step by step…”

“After three years in office, though still popular, her reputation had eroded—largely because she could not have conceivably lived up to the image of miracle worker her own supporters had pinned on her…

“Despite its modern trappings, it was still a feudal society [she had inherited] dominated by an oligarchy of rich dynasties, which had evolved from one of the world’s longest spans of Western imperial rule [more than three centuries under Spain and almost 50 years under America].”

To have expected Cory to do more was indeed like expecting miracles: she had been born to reign, not to rule.

Martyred dreams

Not surprisingly, the same miraculous expectations are growing around her son, fueled largely by a carefully crafted campaign that—according to public confessions by insiders—shamelessly exploited a nation’s yearning to complete a mother’s unfulfilled legacy and a father’s martyred dreams.

Installed by a miscalculated exploitation of poignant memories, the current President Aquino is thus unwittingly shackled to the same ebullient expectations no mortal could possibly fulfill.

In remembering her birthday late last month, Mr. Aquino gave us a rare glimpse into a son’s personal perspective of his mother’s legacy. Calling himself a “saling pusa” (kibitzer) during his mother’s presidency, he said she and her Cabinet had “planted the seeds of the plants that will be harvested now.”

Strangely looking ahead at his own presidency’s end barely seven months into it, Mr. Aquino said: “I like to look at it as the last act of this particular play.” He recalled that when his mother was thrust into the presidency in 1986, she had “no blueprint” for managing the country, reinforcing Karnow’s “step by step” description of her style of governance.

“I will follow the formula to a large degree,” Mr. Aquino said ominously.

While this peculiar articulation of his mandate may carry with it a deferential respect for her memory, it casually ignored a basic historical difference in the two Aquino presidencies. Cory accepted the call almost reluctantly; her son went for the job deliberately.

Battle fatigue

Eight months into a six-year term, he shows surprising weariness—dangerously close to Cory’s “strangely passive” behavior early in her presidency. It could be nothing more than simple battle fatigue—or it could be something else.

Clearly the president needs all the help he can get. As surely as night follows day, he is not going to get the help he badly needs from the small group of true believers he has assembled around him, no matter how true their beliefs. This is a decision he cannot postpone because on it rests the future of the country and the legacy he nurtures in his hands.

Clearly, Mr. Aquino is not getting it from a self-styled communications strategist who, after elaborately constructing a network of digital “feedback mechanisms” like social networking sites Facebook and Twitter to monitor the pulse of the people, says out of pique, “No, I have not seen it (a YouTube video poking fun at Mr. Aquino’s expensive sports car)—and I don’t care!”

The least they can do is to care, and to care deeply enough. If they are not up to the demands of the job, they should give way to others more qualified and less testy and testicular. This is our country—and our future—they are trifling with, and we cared passionately enough to pay our dues on the perilous road to Edsa in 1986. Where were they?

(The author is chief executive of a think tank specializing in transforming social, political, anthropological and historical trends into public policy and business strategy. Comments are welcome at Marbella International Business Consultancy, e-mail mibc2006@gmail.com.)

AGNOSTICS AND skeptics have been puzzled why religion does not bring peace, justice and harmony in our world which is often called hell on earth.

It took a humble virgin, a carpenter, poor shepherds and three mystics from the east to discover peace, justice and harmony on a cold December night 2,000 years ago, when in a little town of Bethlehem, a baby was born in a cave where donkeys, cows and sheep spent the night.

Two thousand years have passed and still the Babe in the cave continues to mesmerize all of mankind. Historically authentic, even if it sounds like a fairy tale, Christmas remains a most astonishing event that obliterates arrogance, hatred and pessimism.

In its purest form, the mood intensity of Christmas is visceral. It touches man’s responsive chord to love, to hope and to harmonize with fellow humans. Who wouldn’t rejoice in beholding the miracle of birth? Who wouldn’t crave for maternal love? Who wouldn’t relish the experience of the brotherhood of men? Primeval. Birth and motherhood are the core functions of human psychology and physiology. The perfect mind-set for God’s salvific design to be staged in Bethlehem and later at Calvary.

The birth of a child is progenitive, a source of awe and happiness for the male and female species wielding their procreative powers throughout all civilizations from the dawn of history up to our technological world and into the far galactic future. Unless, God forbid, a new barbarism that eschews the moral code succeeds in annihilating the family as the building blocks of human society.

Motherhood is Mother Nature’s gift to authentic feminism. It intuits maternal instinct for the nurturing and ideal formation of the beloved child. The flip side consists of the progeny seeking love, comfort and shelter in the warm embrace of a mother.

The Nativity is not only a divine metaphor. It is also a fact, an earthly reality. The belen is the most lovable icon for world peace and happiness. Its fecundity lies in its being uniquely dichotomous; its being divine and human in the same breath, at the same time.

Sending his only begotten son was God’s way of making physical his presence among his people. Lying in a manger on a cold December night, the God-man came to us in all his humanity. It’s a grand paradox that can only be surmised with God’s omniscience but humanized for us to ignite our faith. “God so loved the world, he sent his only begotten son,” explains the Holy Book.

God could have sent a band of angels to trumpet alarum and announcing that He was granting unconditional amnesty to all of Adam’s descendants years after original sin made them fallen creatures. But no, God’s way as a loving father-creator was to adapt to the human way, to act out man’s salvation, so that we can interact with Him using the full range of our senses. The God-man willed to be humble because humility is the most potent antecedent of love.

Nine months before Bethlehem, another act of humility, the Angelus, unfolded in Nazareth. “The angel of the Lord declared unto Mary. And she conceived through the power of the Holy Spirit.” The announcement was beyond the comprehension of a simple maiden named Mary. But she answered, “Be it done unto me according to thy word.” For God’s loving omnipotence the only human response possible was Mary’s humility.

By instinct or by serendipity, almost all cultures in the world arrived at ritualizing the concepts of Christmas. It’s a time for forgiving and giving (it’s better to give than to receive). Various customs have been institutionalized and celebrated worldwide. The celebration of the midnight Mass. The lighting of the Christmas tree. The group singing of Christmas carols. Children’s re-enactment of the Nativity tableau. The coming of the three Magis.

Indeed, God’s grand mystery has become the greatest story ever told.

The famous English convert, G.K. Chesterton, calls mysteries and paradoxes of the faith “the madness of the Gospel.” Man’s wit acquiesces to his sense of mystery, by reveling in the allure of the phenomenon. And the greatest mystery ever embraced by mankind is the humble maiden in Nazareth who said yes to God, and the God-child who was born in a cave in Bethlehem.

“Holy infant so tender and bright” goes our poignant song. Half a millennium ago, the charisma of the Holy Infant inspired the Christianization of the Philippines when the queen of Cebu fell in love with the image of Sto. Niño, her gift from the Spanish conquistador. The queen became the first convert to Catholicism. Today, millions of Sto. Niño devotees chant “Viva Sto. Niño!” during a procession of exuberance and merriment for the love of an infant-God.

More than any episode in the New Testament, it’s the peace and joy at Christmas that give man confidence and effervescence in trusting his sense for mysteries. Pope Benedict XVI knows this kind of subliminal God talk. Benedict teaches that a lot of God’s omniscient messages are “written in the hearts of man.”

Joy to the world! It’s real! And it’s awesome!

(Minyong Ordoñez is a freelance journalist and a member of the Manila Overseas Press Club. Email: hgordonez@gmail.com)