The Bangus Ultimatum

In times of adversity, you learn who your friends are. You guys need a lot of friends. You need friends in all walks of life. Pretty soon, you are going to graduate from the status of techie geeks to official dissidents. This is your fate…You’re gonna see who your friends are before this is over. You have a lot more friends than you think.

- Bruce Sterling, to the hackers of the world.

By October this year I was ready to write off 2006 as annus horribilis – a depressing, exhausting, ass of a year. Friends prevented it from being a total soul-sucking black hole.
The Four and Nayna and Mon and H made things better.
An unexpected bonus of the year is that I met four beautiful, wonderful women – collectively 2006’s 2nd Most Interesting New Person.* They are (from the order I met them this year) Cai, Dana, Jona, and Giorj. And from each I learned valuable lessons.

Cai is an inspiration for advocates everywhere. She does not hesitate to argue forcefully (and yet so gracefully), for what seems to be the most desperate of causes.

Dana is a teacher with an uncanny eye – she can see things hidden or lost, patterns flickering beneath dark surfaces.

Jona is the kind of blogger/writer I want to be – brave and open, thrusting at the heart, in touch with her audience.
Giorj. Giorj could have been a fine guerilla commander in another life. She certainly has the attitude necessary for a protracted winter war: Deep convictions. Righteous anger. A sense of justice.
That wraps it up for my little year-end review. I’ve blogged 2006 for all it’s worth, and I’m glad it’s over. Farewell, and good night. Happy new year to all!

* First prize goes to an applicant I met in OLA. Five minutes into our conversation, I realized that she was quite crazy. I think.

Somewhere in my room is a beautiful, shiny bookmark. It is a real work of art, bartered and not bought. A friend of mine, an artist and an advocate, fashioned it herself. I meant to give it to someone. A girl who loved books.

I wanted to give flowers too. Pink roses. They meant something in the language of flowers, the florist said. I forgot.
Things went awry. It was so bad for a while I regressed into programming mobile applications all over again (Hey, it’s better than the whole alcohol bingeing and stripclubs routine).

There isn’t any logical explanation for what I did. We weren’t even friends. We shared only the most tenuous of connections, the shortest conversations. Maybe it was because I believed – and longed for – alternate universes. Well, I certainly got that out of my system.
I never gave her the bookmark. Which is a very very good thing. One evening, I looked up from my cup of coffee and I realized that it just didn’t belong to her. (It took a couple of weeks later, with some prodding, for me to figure out why exactly). Bottom line, I’m glad I have it. To give. Someday. Maybe.

That is just the way things are, and I further sayeth naught.

The Four, a law professor, and a goat walk into a bar…

Mark Twain once said that the true source of comedy is not joy, but sorrow. This year gave the lot of us very deep wells to tap. We’ll be chuckling for the next twenty years.

Here’s us watching a documentary:

A lot of people in law school dismiss us as underachieving troublemakers out for cheap laughs. What they miss is our total love for animals. We have a love for animals that is almost…illegal.

I remembered them all, as I stood in the cliff, there in the north, where the world once ended.
In Sagada I sensed information seeping into villages. New inns were sprouting up all over the valley, with wi-fi broadband and polished content delivered by satellite dish. The old ways were receding – with the fast data streams came new songs and new prayers.

The mountains were forgiving, but the sea still hated me. In Pagudpod the breeze blew sand into my eyes, and called me a fool for even trying. In Bolinao, the tide wounded my right foot, and cursed me to everlasting awkwardness. In Zambales, the surf whispered that my sins against the blue were many, and that I will never be forgiven until I merit.

In Baguio, I saw the future again and again: early mornings in strange and cheap hotels, with little sleep and too much work, chasing constructs and fighting battles that never stay won.

In Tagaytay I tried to procure a rose, last of the fairest, and failed.

I remembered them all, because the heart embeds its secret life in space, in unique geography.

Prior to 2006, I’ve always considered law school simply as an extension of my interest in information systems (The law is code). This year, the law ceased being an abstract concern, and I found myself outside my usual buffer zone of theory.
Last February, President Arroyo tried to pull a fast one, with her undeclared state of martial law. Activities for this period included running ragged all over the city (coordinating mind bombs), marching in my first mass action in years, and distributing petitions.
May saw me preparing a legal/empirical report on human trafficking for the ASEAN. All that work, combined with a few more summits, could eventually result…in a draft declaration promising regional cooperation and data sharing. Shit. And you wonder why I’m no fan of international law. Then again, these things take time, and today’s airy declaration could be basis for a binding norm down the road.
The most interesting side projects for the year would have to be two certiorari petitions to the Supreme Court i helped research for: The first sought to nullify the decision of the Ombudsman in the anomalous automated counting machines fiasco. The second was supposed to meet head on the Lower House’s morally bankrup attempt at a constituent assembly. Fortunately (or unfortunately), the House blinked, and we didn’t have to file it.

It’s been a year for picking up fights. With luck, I’ll be stuck with them for a long time

Looking back at 2006, I realize it’s a problem of characterisation. The outcome of any attempt at evaluation would depend on what aspect of the facts you view.
One aspect: This is the year I’m in OLA, the UP College of Law’s Office of Legal Aid, our unique, kick-ass legal clinic. I got to do all sorts of lawyerly things like write pleadings, appear in court, and yes, in one shining moment, say “Objection!”. I should have at least a dozen interesting stories for you guys. Unfortunately, I have to respect the client-attorney privilege thing. All I can say is that I’ve had small victories and real heartbreaking defeats.  And it’s not yet over. Hopefully, I won’t botch my cases too badly and I’ll pass OLA.

This picture was taken during the last duty day of the year. Our Supervising Lawyer, Atty. Andre “Dregball” Ballesteros, had by that time tendered his resignation [1] and we wanted one last picture to prove that yes, despite what you’ve heard[2], Team 7 is supervised by a real lawyer.

First row, from left: Norman, Farrah, Julz, Atty. Ballesteros, Myself, Lorraine, Richelle, Kitch, and Inez.

Second row, from left: Remir, Erwin, and Mon.

[1]The story was that he accompanied Remir to a hearing, saw the horrifying future of the profession, and realized that he no longer wanted a share of the blame.

[2]We’re allegedly the most – how shall I say it – non-linear team in the office.

The Spirit answered not, but pointed onward with its hand.

‘You are about to show me shadows of the things that have not happened, but will happen in the time before us,’ Scrooge pursued. ‘Is that so, Spirit?’

The upper portion of the garment was contracted for an instant in its folds, as if the Spirit had inclined its head. That was the only answer he received.

Although well used to ghostly company by this time, Scrooge feared the silent shape so much that his legs trembled beneath him, and he found that he could hardly stand when he prepared to follow it. The Spirit pauses a moment, as observing his condition, and giving him time to recover.

But Scrooge was all the worse for this. It thrilled him with a vague uncertain horror, to know that behind the dusky shroud, there were ghostly eyes intently fixed upon him, while he, though he stretched his own to the utmost, could see nothing but a spectral hand and one great heap of black.

‘Ghost of the Future!’ he exclaimed, ‘I fear you more than any spectre I have seen. But as I know your purpose is to do me good, and as I hope to live to be another man from what I was, I am prepared to bear you company, and do it with a thankful heart. Will you not speak to me?’

It gave him no reply. The hand was pointed straight before them.

I’m back, just in time to post my traditional excerpt from A Christmas Carol. The text is already in the public domain, in formats ranging from html to audio. I don’t know why I’m such a sucker for this story (and its many adaptations). Maybe it’s “the lesson”, or the transformation at the end (spoiler alert!). I wish everyone good lessons and beneficial transformations. Minus the creepy ghosts.

A very merry Christmas to all!