The Thin Line

Truth, Lies, Gossip and The Mob

I remember another Filipino blogger mentioned once that gossiping was the Number One Filipino past time. I commented on his sentimental post about a woman (sentimentalizing was the Number Two Filipino past time, he said).

I'm finding that there's a lot of value in living your life under the radar. If you're a public figure, however, this is not an option. But we average guys -- running our average blogs and living a pretty regular life consisting of work, friends and family -- it should really be the only way to live.

But then, there's The Mob.

The Mob can be anyone. It can be your regular group of friends.

Here's some pretty juvenile sketches:

Case A: I was walking home one night with a friend to the subway. Close to the station, my friend excitedly proclaimed that Guy A was officially dating Guy B. My reaction was along the lines of "Huh?" I knew more about the situation then she did, so I was pretty sure I'd know ahead of her. She insisted...

Case B: I was talking to someone on the phone when the person at the other end of the line gave me "news" that someone saw Guy C and Guy D attending Sunday Mass. And they were really sweet. Ergo, they were official.

For both cases, I ended the topic this way: If you cannot obtain first-hand information, you better not spread that "news" around further. We are so far out of high school...

Now, I rarely insist on being true (I mean, really, I'm a blogger...), but please humor me on this one.

Ordinarily, I would have shrugged and forgotten about it, but I had reason to be skeptical with those bits of "news". Gossip has a way of seeping into reality and possibly ruining a few ties and friendships here and there.

This is one reason why I jokingly adopted the role of devil's advocate in my community. I find that a lot of people just swallow everything they hear. I mean wow... These people could really use someone as skeptical, cynical and bitter as I sometimes am.

Some people never verify. They just get too excited. It's no different from reading and browsing tabloids. It's not that these people around you are naive suckers. They are just part of The Mob.

The Mob consists of the devious, the naive, and the asshats.

(What's an asshat? These are people who actually choose to be ignorant. It's a term derivative of the notion that there are people who have their head so far up their ass that they can wear their ass like a hat.)

The devious spread information -- or disinformation -- to either cover their mishaps or further their goals. It may be in their best interests for people to believe one thing today and the the opposite thing tomorrow, and so on. They're almost agnostic to truth. They may say a few truths here and there, but they usually leave out context and details that would paint a different picture.

The naive are those nicer people who unwittingly believe and possibly even pass information around.

Asshats, well, please refer to the parenthetical preceding this paragraph...

I've been regularly in touch with The Mob, ever since I joined Singles for Christ New York. In fact, I was part of The Mob, at times even as one of the blissfully ignorant and careless asshats.

I need to mention SFC NY, since I never saw this many problems in any circle I've ever belonged to. There were my friends in Computer Science. Never. And then my friends back in the dorm... Nope -- they're so caught up in themselves -- work, studies, families, relationships, hobbies, basketball leagues, and quite often, simply themselves and their vanities -- that they're too busy to talk about other people behind their backs. My first friends in New York? Same deal. They have other things to do. (I've heard them talk, but not as bad as...)

And don't fool yourself. I just sent you the link to this blog post. I have reason to believe that you're part of The Mob. Perhaps in the worst possible way. Mwahahahaha. (Well ok, not all of you. But if you were born in the Philippines, chances are...)

The Mob is someone calling to tell you all sorts of things that you really do not need to know.

The Mob is someone giving you seemingly innocuous information that will get you embroiled in some other people's mishaps.

The Mob are involved with blurring the lines between truth and lies, lies and gossip, truth and gossip, butter and I Can't Believe It's Not Butter.

Fight it people. We can fight it together. Stay in your Christian/Social Org if you must, but actually do work for it. Quietly. Let's all pick up hobbies. Be judicious with our free time. Open your mouth with the belief that your life depends on it. Move to a different town. Buy an apartment. Get a dog, or just pretend to have one. Blog. (Actually, write. And maybe read.) Run in Central Park. Learn tennis (if you already play, call me).

Habits

Last week, on my second "morning" (it was closer to noon) of waking up in a hotel room in Vegas after another long and tiring day, I scanned the room for any food lying around. I homed in on some at the table and started munching.

Then I felt my stomach growling, and my instinct -- and vanity -- prompted me to feel my body for damage. For a third day now, I almost dehydrated again.

And then I felt my shoulders. It felt noticeably leaner (just trust me on this one).

Fat. I lost some fat.

Sure, most of the tummy fat was still there, but along with water, I was sure I lost fat (and unfortunately, muscle of course).

See, normally, it's fattening to skip meals and go hungry. Your body learns and starts to store fat at odd times of the day. But for too many hours, I was hungry and thirsty enough for my body started eating through everything while I was asleep. Muscle and fat.

And that's a really bad way to lose fat by the way. It's like getting the flu or food poisoning. But hey, it worked.

So in the succeeding days, I consciously took in as much water and protein as I can to make up for the good stuff that I lost. On Monday and Tuesday, I was a mess. Today felt a lot better, as I also had better sleep.

I feel a metaphor coming in...

At least with me, habits are like fat: They're hard to lose.

For instance, as I am typing, it's 1:26am. I'm planning to wake up at 7am to get to work early, leave early, go to the gym, and drop by a sporting goods store to buy shoes. I will probably fail (but that's ok -- there's always Friday...).

The good stuff with me are like muscle. They're relatively easier for me to build (though I don't mean this in a Muscle & Fitness sort of way).

The good stuff consists of everything I have or do to make my life richer: friends, exercise, photography, running, tennis, good food, books, learning, etc. These are things that I take on voluntarily.

The bad stuff are the things I need to throw away: lost causes, sleeping habits, over-indulging, tardiness at work, sending too many Yahoo emoticons, etc. These are things that I need to manage or lose in my life.

But someone's bound to say, "Marvin, you're really vain. You're not really fat."

That's not the point.

And besides, regardless of what people say, I'm a bit over-weight. As I was telling a couple of friends last week. I used to look 15lbs lighter than I really was. That's efficient. I like efficient. More importantly, it's also healthy. I don't want to walk around like some short, burly guy when in reality a lot of fat is marbled in my muscles. Also, I need to get faster both for running and tennis. Lastly, with all the physical activity, I want to protect my heart and my knees. I'm not getting any younger.

So I'm wondering about drastic measures.

Is punishing myself really what it takes to lose a lot of bad things in my life? I used to think that if I indulge in healthy things, the less healthy will naturally get bumped out. There's still some truth to this of course.

But I'm hung up with a lot of things that I need to let go. Losing some habits -- activities, feelings, even  people -- require a lot of focus. I'm obsessive by nature, so this really should be easy.

It isn't easy. It's really hard for me to let go of things (I obsess on everything...).

Also, I have the attention span of a 10-year old on certain things.

I want sushi.

I Also Sound Like A Gymnast

Some time ago, a friend advised me that I looked judgmental.

That's according to a friend of my friend. As far as I can recall, this friend of a friend exchanged maybe a sentence or two with me before.

That's right. I was actually judged as looking judgmental.

But never mind that. I simply looked judgmental. And by the way my friend -- who had known me for about half a decade -- was describing it, she was actually starting to believe it, too. That's the power of suggestion.

I related this story to another friend who grimly remarked that if you're not going to say anything that's helpful or constructive, you really should just keep it to yourself.

But never mind that. The point is that I looked judgmental. Does anyone else find this funny?

How can anyone look judgmental?

That's like saying that I smelled like a concert pianist, or maybe I walked like a convicted felon, or I picked my nose like a venture capitalist.

"Judgmental" like other characteristics such as "insightful", "principled", or "stubborn", isn't something you can conclude about a person with minimal interaction or observation. You actually need to have a more substantial and involved conversation with the person.

It's the way I looked at this person, I was told. It's probably my eyes which come from my father's side of the family. It's like I know what you did. I know what you did last summer. Mwahahaha! The problem is I look at everyone the same way. I would like to apologize for judging everyone then.

(See I can be sarcastic. But further proving my point, there's just no way you can say that I look sarcastic and be taken seriously. So there.)

Just a few things that I took from an old guy I knew back in high school:

1. Get out of your comfort zone, get away from like-minded people and try to each out. You might be pleasantly surprised.

2. Hold immediate judgment and be more open-minded about people and maybe get to know them first. You either confirm your negative conclusions or you might make a new friend.

3. Like my other friend -- who's a much nicer person than me -- said, if you can't say anything nice, better keep it to yourself. At least indefinitely. So then maybe you can conclude later that a person IS something rather than LOOKS LIKE something.

On the CFC-FFL Versus CFC-IC War

I always saw the Couples for Christ split as the natural lifecycle of an organization that's grown too big such that it finally gave way to entropic chaos (the historical Catholic Church is an even better example). But the Foundation Family for Life (FFL) versus International Council (IC) issue seems to be littered with the interests and egos of the elder leaders. Or so it seems from my limited point of view.

I'm going to take a more parochial view and relate the conflict to what SFC NY itself is experiencing right now.

In Singles for Christ New York, I often joke about not being concerned with the CFC division and picking sides because we're already in a three-way split anyway. I'm talking about the competition between units. This little crack never fails to elicit a few laughs.

Apart from the units, we're split more granularly into the groupings of friends. We call those groupings "barkadas". Sometimes we call them "cliques". Sometimes, we need to see them as both.

The competition or lack of cooperation among units is political, and it's similar to the high-level spat that the IC and FFL leaders are having. Although ours is more subtle.

Personally, I cannot even confirm the said "competition or lack of cooperation". The only reasons why I assume it to be true is because (1) when you make a remark about it in the presence of leaders, the leaders confirm it and (2) no matter how you try to ignore it, you feel it to be true.

The other kind of division, the "barkada" groupings may be attributed to cliquishness -- and that very well may be the true. But sometimes it's really just the way people are. There are people who naturally jive, while some combinations of personalities may seem a bit toxic. This is the only real challenge that has to be worked out -- working together and achieving our goals and ideals despite differences in personalities and backgrounds. The diversity, when worked through, actually contributes to the richness of the community that we serve.

The conflict between units -- the division that people talk about but no one will officially admit to -- is what I've always found bewildering.

I've been hearing about it for a while but have managed to ignore it for the past year or so because it didn't seem practical. There are specific strengths and talents that differ in concentration among the units. It makes little sense for one unit to do without the others. The "autonomy" among units made sense only on paper (and in people's vanities), but is not feasible in real situations. For one thing, such real autonomy was never achieved.

Division serves a systematic purpose in any organization. It's the science and economics of it: it's why units are divided into households, and households are only optimal up to a certain number. I've always thought this sense of order and organization was one of the strengths of the CFC ministries that facilitated  its rapid growth. The formal division is really for administration purposes.

But the division conjured by the egos and vanities of the people in SFC NY is obviously un-Christian. It defeats the purpose of the organization. It's petty and political. It really does not deserve all the attention it gets if only it did not pose a real potential problem. And that's essentially how I think anti-cooperation here closer to home relates to the larger FFL-IC war.

But I've always ignored the greater FFL-IC conflict. I chose to be unconcerned about it because I already have to deal with my own problems for one (charity begins at home). The issue is also outside my area of influence and it's a moot -- not to mention annoying -- discussion. The leaders should be concerned. They have to be, especially those closest to CFC leadership. For me and a lot of people, it's an absolute waste of time.

Further, I want to ignore the FFL-IC issue because it's so disappointing.

The disappointment dampens the fulfillment of accomplishing something good within the organization's context because we become aware that right behind us looms the conflicts of the leaders whose mandates we've been trying to fulfill all the while. Our leaders sure can talk the talk, but can't walk the talk. I haven't opened my covenant card in a while. But I sometimes wonder if the elders open theirs -- even the elders who formulated the covenant card in the first place.

Think of it this way... Imagine being a devout Catholic and finding out that the Catholic Church is run by people who undermine Christianity itself. It's like serving a false church.  It's serving a false organization. It's like finding truth and goodness in your plot in the context of the wrong story.

I'm inclined to say that maybe the CFC really needed to split and reexamine its leadership and guiding principles.

I thought the whole point of the CFC was to make a venue for knowing and practicing your faith and reaching out to the world -- "Renew the face of the earth" as the elder leaders had formulated years and years ago.

The CFC's center was supposed to be Jesus Christ and Christian teachings. Nowadays, it just focuses on itself.

"Who Do You Love?" (And Other Questions)

I was, I think, 25 at the time. I remember because a friend and former co-worker of mine, this thoroughly American guy who looked like a remnant of the 80's punk era, dropped me a note which said something like "Congratulations old man!" My friend himself was 27 at the time. 25, he said, was the last age I'll be excited about when having a birthday.

Anyway, I remember eating at a Mongolian barbecue place somewhere in Castro Street in Mountain View, CA. My friend, about 28 at the time, was relating his laundry list of worries: dating different women and not knowing whom he liked (loved?) more, his job and thinking about getting a new one, and finally, the meaning of life (though not in those exact terms).

I was listening with this probably naive smile on my face. And then, I started coming up with a few thoughts of my own.

Well first, it was about this book I started reading, "The Unbearable Lightness of Being" by Milan Kundera. I thought my friend was sort of like the lead character, a womanizer who finally fell in love. It's not that my friend was a womanizer in that sense of course, but I thought he treated his romantic life with the caution of a 9-year old wielding a water gun.

Then I told him this story about my high school senior year retreat. Fr. Dennis Paez had this game that I think we simply called "Who do you love?" It went like this:

1. Everyone except one person in the center (the "it") sat somewhere in a circle of chairs (perfect for our retreat format of course)
   
2. The "it" asks one of the people seated "Do you love me?"
   
3. If the person says "No", the "it" asks "So who do you love?" The person can answer something specific like "The people in white shirts" and everyone in white shirts scamper to switch chairs. THe "it" then has an opportunity to steal a chair.
   
4. If a person answers "Yes", everyone scampers to a new chair.
   
5. If a person answers "No", but then states he loved everyone, everyone scampers to a new chair.

We finished our meal by then, and we shared jokes about the game. For one thing, it was funny to ask "Do you love me?" because all of us in the room were boys. Now if only life were like that, I said. You're asked difficult questions and your reply has no real consequences.

I told my friend half-jokingly that one of these days, he would be asked the question "Who do you love?" (perhaps he'll have to ask the question himself). But it wouldn't be a game.

So then I asked him, if his brother, his parents, or any of his girl friends (girlfriends?) asked him the question "Who do you love?", what would be his answer?

He turned sober and quiet for about a second. Then he replied, "I'll get back to you on that on our next lunch."

. . .

I'm in my early 30's now. If I could go back in time, I'd tell my friend this story about a man who loved and was in-love with more than one woman. His solution? He became a priest. He declared that this was the only way he could love everyone equally. I wouldn't recommend that solution to everyone, of course.

But as a 30-something guy, I have another take on the matter. If you find yourself asking yourself that question, you're in deeper trouble than you think.

It would be a lot easier if we could only answer "with a third option -- maybe" or "it depends" but there are some questions that are either/or propositions.

Still, there are those other questions:

"What do you really want to do with your life?"

"Where do you really want to be?"

"What do you really value?"

I feel that soon, I'll have those answers, or maybe I already have them but haven't taken sufficient action. Hmmm.

But I'll get back to you on that during our next lunch.

When Teaching Night Flies All Over the Place

One teaching night in Singles for Christ New York not so long ago, Steve Zosa had a question about making life-altering decisions  (I remember hearing something about career and deciding whether to stay in the US for good.). "I know you're going to tell me to pray [and so on]," he continued. "But is there a way to expedite..." (At the word "expedite" a lot of people started giggling. "Ano yon? Fedex?" I heard someone say.)

I thought it was funny because the question brought out the generic quality of spirituality in the community. Someone would ask a question and sometimes the people who answer -- even the leaders -- get formulaic to the point of laziness. You get canned advice. Pray. "Discern" (and I'm glad I didn't hear that word that night). A thought creeps in: "Well I've done all that, but..."

[Someone also asked: "Should we ask for a sign?" I actually like the answer to this one: a very flat "No".]

 

Also, I thought the question expressed the wish for some sort of a shortcut or magic pill for making life decisions. Throughout the ensuing discussion, I did not get a sense that there was such a thing -- probably because there really isn't.

 

But unfortunately, so far in my two years in the community, it's not SFC NY if people do not bastardize a sensible question and relate it to tired old dating questions, like knowing who's "the one". The speaker himself went this route at around the 5-minute mark of the question-and-answer segment. And why wouldn't he, especially since it seems to be second-nature to this particular Christian singles community to dwell on dating issues? Dating issues and general gossip (and often in combination) are things we in SFC NY are quite attune to, though this probably shouldn't be the case.

So then, Steve clarified that he was referring to every sort of life-altering decision, not just dating problems. But unless my mind was wandering, I heard no clear enlightenment from the speaker... or the crowd of titillated talking heads who were giggling (me amongst them). Because perhaps nobody had any real answers. Or maybe because it actually required us to think a little deeper to come up with ideas and we couldn't take the mental strain.

I had my own questions relating to the talk. I never bothered asking them because I thought it would actually rain on everyone's mood -- which of course by then took a whimsical turn. I regret not asking it now, because I was really curious about the speaker's answer.

We also discussed Couples for Christ internal politics, by the way. At least when the question was posed, it was clearly stated that it was in no relation to the talk. Still, I thought it distracted everyone a bit from the talk itself.

The talk was ok, though it did little for me. It sort of started well and then went around in rather vague directions. The open discussion started out sensibly. Jonah De Lumen began with a question about coping with spiritual dryness, for instance. But somehow, we simply went off-tangent from there and never really got back on track. Jonah, by the way, is Unilever's Dove brand manager -- and maybe her moisturizers could have done a better job curing my own spiritual dryness at around the second hour of the teaching.

 

Spiritual drought? Life decisions? If you weren't there, you may want to ask what the main point of the talk was. It's faith in God. Being able to trust in a faithful God. Who would have guessed, right?

Too bad the main point simply got lost towards the end. Again to be fair, I thought the discussion was somewhat interesting and at times helpful. But long after the talk was over, I can't help thinking that it could have been more helpful if we all took it a little more seriously and put all other things in its proper place.

Dance, Dance

I was thinking that if it were any other time in my life, I would have been embarrassed to post this. So here goes...

I danced. With a partner. Ballroom (sort of).

It's not that I'm trying to cross those who love ballroom dancing, especially those who are skilled (For instance, if you looked at the genes of a certain Errazo family, their DNA strands don't simply twist. They also do the salsa, cha-cha, swing, hustle...). It's just seemed simply out of character for me to dance. I like dancing as much as the average guy, but not in a competition or exhibition. Not performance. In college, I leave things like that that to my friends who were actually good.

But then I remembered that other incident from about a decade ago when I actually had to choreograph something for the company party. It was bizarre to the likes of Gerwin Cuenca who exclaimed "The world does not make sense anymore!" when I demo-ed my bastardized version of the Company of Ateneo Dancers' performance of "Tubthumping" by Chumbawumba.

I remember showing a step to Gino Mah (who himself was in CADS back in the day) and the some of the guys. Gino generously said, "Close, close...." and then he showed us the real thing. Actually the step I lifted was a bit far from the original. Further, I had to simplify it because every guy in my team at the office -- and God bless them because they're really good people -- had two left feet.

And this explains why I had to quickly choreo a dance routine then and why I had to dance ballroom for an SFC New York benefit: No one else was around to do it.

The Bad...

I almost quit. What got to me was getting back from California with my new job in mind, not having prepared the talk I was scheduled to give in a Christian Life Program, and the fact that we only had half the steps for the dance ready (and not even polished). But then, I guess I'm not as awful and flaky a person as one would think.

The jitters. Until the last week, we barely practiced (hence #1). And when was the last time I performed in anything? High school?

The physical challenge. My partner actually did a lot more of the physically-challenging stuff. Still...

It was emotionally awkward and stressful. I often thought I was a chore to my partner and to Erica Jones (another friend who tried to teach me to dance more macho. GRRRRR! (It's really "RRRRR" not "GRRRR" but my tongue has a lousy "R").

The Good...

It was a fund-raiser. You have to call it a service to the ministry and to our base church.

It was a favor to my friends who organized the event who early on doubted that they would reach their quota of dancing pairs.

It's not exactly the worst thing in the world to have Mel Espiritu, who dances as beautifully as she looks, as your partner.

I learned something from it and it was a humbling experience.

It was really a lot of fun.

Lastly, the event was a success. They didn't give out numbers but I believe they made it past their target of funds to be raised. The event logistically ran like clockwork. And everyone raves about wonderful it was.

The Weirdness and the Challenges...

Everyone seemed surprised to see me dance and everyone thought I did so capably. Bro. Salvatore, OFM CAP, shook my hand and said:

"Marvin, I didn't think you had it in you."

"Thanks Bro. Sal."

He looked at me for a second.

"You didn't think know, either, huh?"

I contributed nothing to the choreography because it felt like I would presume. My partner was a real dancer. You know how you can sit in class and listen earnestly as a future cum laude addressed a philosophical question. Or even when your friends start to brag about who the best point guard or team captain or soccer player is, bla bla bla. I keep quiet because I'm not as brilliant in class, and I sucked in both basketball and soccer, while my friends were actually pretty good.

Even with my passiveness, I have to tell you that it was still hard work. I have bruises on my arm because I think my partner was holding on so tightly to my arm for dear life as she flipped 360 degrees (she would never admit it though). We had to cram during the last week before the event, but we did practice enough. Or that's what my partner told me, and I had to take her word for it a few minutes before the performance. Still, it's not too late to throw a compliment her way: Mel really did know what she was doing when she assembled the routine and she really can dance. And me -- I felt like a lemming -- just blindly following and hoping I would not be lead off a cliff...

In the end, the experienced felt like high school again. In a good way.

[My friend Rebecca from California (Visual Designer Diva) asked me how the flip worked when she saw it on Flickr. I answered her comment: "With a lot of patience and bruises on my right arm..."]

A Toast...

Here's to the all the unlikely things we've done that we will look back to and laugh at how silly we once were. But hey, as with that Baz Luhrmann dance film Strictly Ballroom, "A life lived in fear is a life half-lived." Here's to the people we meet and tangle with along the way. And lastly, here's to more of all the awkwardness and silliness that will be done -- hopefully again for some good little causes.

When the dance ministry folks were practicing a group dance, I was watching on with Bro. Sal and the event organizer, Karlo Rosete (whose house became our rehearsal headquarters). Bro. Sal remarked that "It takes a lot of courage" for the guys to do this (not the girls he said, since they seem to enjoy what they were doing).

I answered, "It takes gall."

I would know, right?

Dodging and Burning

It happened every so often. Once it was in email form and it went like:

"You have told us a lot of things. Now, it's time to tell us who you are."

And once it was in a conversation:

"You seem to say a lot about yourself but you're really not revealing much. It's like you're hiding behind what you're saying."

That's the kind of remark that I would probably answer with a mild but sardonic "Wow, you really get me. Were you a psychology major?"

In fact, I actually did say that. And the person actually was a psych major.

Still, I'm not sure.

I was told it was an art form -- to say a lot without saying much at all. I answered that it actually wasn't. It's either poor communication or an unconscious defense mechanism.

"Now, who's the psych major?" She challenged me.

"It was Psy 11. A required subject. What sandwich are you ordering for lunch?"

"You also change subjects easily."

"You're very sharp. Did they teach you that in Harvard?"

[turns to person in front of her cube]

"Is he always this sarcastic?"

I actually miss that one.

Powerpoint Blues

What is it with Powerpoint?

It's a pain to simply align text using proper information design principles. It encourages and perpetuates bad habits. Fine adjustments and movements simply can't be done in it.

It is possibly the most draconian in the Microsoft Office suite (Word comes in second. Excel is actually pretty good IMHO.).

Powerpoint is just a mess to work with. And yet, it's the industry standard.

There are so many better alternatives.

Two Old Lessons from Moral Theology

Not too strangely, what made me remember this was hanging out with Christian Chua back in the Bay Area, who mentioned the Machiavellian statement "The ends justify the means" (not to agree with the statement of course).

 

1. The Ends Do Not Justify the Means

I remember an old classmate who loved talking (We were in a few other classes before apart from moral theology). One day, he's rambling and it was business as usual... But then he blurts out something like:

"Because the ends justify the means, then..."

Fr. Dacanay, SJ, did not let this one pass. He made a business of emphasizing over and over that the ends do NOT justify the means. Unless your name was Machiavelli. To my classmate's consternation (and to our general amusement) Fr. Dacanay kept repeating the same spiel throughout the rest of the semester. He made a lesson out of it.

I think that we often forget about those occasions when between the beginning and the end of a story, a blatant violation of ethics transpired. We focus on the happy ending and forget the unjust events that occurred prior to it.

For instance, a man usurps another person's land and later uses the land to benefit the poor in the community. It's a charming story, but people forget about the man whose land was stolen from him in the first place.

(Also, sometimes, the good that comes out of a bad situation is sometimes mostly due to the work of good men (and a good God) trying to derive something good from something otherwise tragic. Probably the best example would be the Christian tale of redemption. The Fall of Man led to the greatest manifestation of God's love -- God becoming man, suffering, and dying to redeem mankind.)

 

2. Ethics Can Sometimes Be Just Common Sense

God and basic human moral law does not ask for the unreasonable.

It was Kant who said that one proof that God existed is moral law imprinted in the hearts of men at birth (the other proof is the "stars in the heavens", or God's creation). When deciding what's wrong and right, we usually do not need to look further than ourselves to know the right thing to do. We just do what makes sense.

So I was sitting at the last class session of the semester mumbling to my friend Ralph Lumo, who was seated beside me, that Fr. Dacanay did not draw my index card even once during the semester. This means I was never called for an impromptu recitation.

[Ralph just smiles his boyish smile and bats his girly eyelashes.]

But my luck ran out at the last minute when Dacanay says, "Now before we end this semester, I would like to hear from Marvin."

A lot of heads turned towards the back where I sat. Given I was so quiet all semester, I was surprised they even knew who Marvin was.

The question went this way: One of my classmates, Hans Siriban, is drowning. I can't swim. Should I try to get in the water and save Hans?

Now I happened to know Hans Siriban. While Fr. Dacanay was elaborating his question, I remember turning to Ralph again and remarking that as far as I could remember, Hans can swim (I was trying to miss the point as usual). And that if he can't swim, the question really was if I WANTED to save Hans at all.

[Ralph again smiles his boyish smile and bats his girly eyelashes.]

So how did I do? I breezed through this one. It seems like a trick question, but it still required explicit reasoning.

"Father, no."

"Why not?"

"Father, it's common sense," I said. I remember pausing and checking if I sounded condescending. I didn't think I did. "It's either he dies or we both die. It's a case of choosing the lesser evil."

Simple, huh?

I could maybe throw Hans a coconut or something (we were on an island). But I might hit him on the head by accident and that would make things worse.

So farewell, Hans, farewell.

Figure 1. Hans "Pretty Boy B" Siriban looking smug. "With his looks and QPI, life doesn't seem fair." What self-respecting guy would want to save him?

[At the time of this blog post, Hans is a diplomat, or working in the capacity of one, and is bent on serving the country. He has not had any incidents involving water as far as we know.]