| Minita's road to Padre
Faura; think hard about Cialis
March 15, 2004
The media pictures from the Ceremonial Hall
at Malacanang Palace were the epitome of sweetness
and light. But the Palace rendezvous between
President Arroyo, boxing champ Manny Pacquiao
and the editor in chief of Ring Magazine Nigel
Collins almost didn’t take place -- with
intense back channel (to use a now favorite
Malacañang term) conferring finally bringing
it about, though the original appointment had
to be put back by a day.
In hushed and reverent tones, the sports pages
of local newspapers referred to Ring Magazine
as the “Bible” of boxing, and anointed
Collins -- who was in town to present Pacquiao
with the magazine’s championship belt
-- as some sort of patron saint.
But as Saint Collins and his apostolic band
waited (and waited) in Manila for Pacquiao to
come on down from his own Mount Sinai in Davao,
all they seemed to be getting in response from
the boxer’s end was a biblical “Sodom”
(or words to that effect), with the Gomorrah
bit noticeably left out.
To be fair to Pacquiao, anyone who had the
misfortune to cast their eyes on the belt can
attest that it was a contraption so impossibly
kitsch that even Liberace would have recoiled.
So we can understand a possible reluctance on
Pacquiao’s part to be seen with it strapped
around his waist and provide picture ops to
all and sundry.
Although in the local electoral context the
inclusion of Collins would merely be incidental
to photographic requirements -- as the pictures
that subsequently appeared in the media bore
out since they only carried the President raising
Pacquiao’s arm, though it might have been
the other way around too.
But on the other hand, by holding himself back
from the intended Manila hoopla, it could just
be that the intensely loyal Pacquiao was subtly
conveying grief on behalf of his manager Rod
Nazario who has thus far handled his career
so superbly.
As it happens, Nazario is the husband of Sandiganbayan
Special Division chairman, Justice Minita Chico
Nazario, who was on bended knee at Baclaran
Church when she got a message from on high (no
. . . not that high because if that was case
the appointment would have been well and truly
sealed) that she had been appointed a justice
of the Supreme Court.
But, like Paul on the road to Damascus, something
happened to Minita on the road to Padre Faura.
But, unlike Paul who eventually saw the light,
Minita is still totally in the dark as to what
actually transpired.
Yeah, let us shed light on it: she was discovered
as worshipping another political god.
* * *
WHEN the Fernando Poe Jr. balloon -- filled
with copious amounts of hot air -- was soaring
up, up and away toward El Dorado in the early
stages of the presidential campaign, this Southern
politician made himself nice and comfortable
onboard. But no sooner it started hitting turbulence,
and “heir” sickness was beginning
to take its toll, he opted for a ride that assured
more stability.
So now that the Lakas-NUCD-ATM gravy train
is gathering steam, he has hitched a ride on
that carriage hoping for a much smoother journey
to his final destination where hopefully the
keys to the kingdom await.
But then again, this politico has carved out
a career jumping onboard any passing bandwagon
that shows signs of gearing into overdrive.
So why change the habits of a lifetime now?
* * *
GOD and mammon were seen in delightful juxtaposition
at a cinema in Greenbelt 3 last week when Warner
Brothers invited nuns, bishops and other men
of the cloth to come to the movies to watch
the polemic Mel Gibson-directed movie about
the last 12 hours in the life of Jesus called
The Passion of the Christ -- or Good Friday
the 13th as it is referred to in the more orthodox
quarters of Tel Aviv.
With controversy raging about the allegedly
anti-Semitic overtones of the movie, the US
distributor gave the local clergy a private
showing in the hope that they would lend their
voices to help repudiate such accusations. For
sure, the bishops, monsignors et al. would have
been happy to get the opportunity to take their
minds off politics and dwell their thoughts
on something connected with religion for a change.
Considering this was an ecclesiastical audience,
by all accounts everyone sitting in the back
rows was well-behaved, with no reports of anyone
trying to breach armrest barriers. And considering
the screen content, instead of crunching into
popcorn they mostly sniffled into Kleenex.
As two of the young cassocked priests who attended
the showing walked through the Greenbelt throngs
afterwards some people thought the duo had undergone
a charismatic
experience of sorts in the cinema since
they were overheard speaking in tongues. Turned
out they were only playfully trying to repeat
some of the dialogue in the movie that is wholly
in Latin and Aramaic (with English subtitles),
which were the main languages spoken in New
Testament times from which accounts the script
is based.
* * *
HE’S off, folks! Barely giving himself
time to warm his seat at the Department of Tourism,
freshly minted Secretary Obet Pagdanganan started
on his own personal quest to circumnavigate
the globe at the people’s expense -- though
unlike the hero of the renowned Jules Verne
novel, he may have considerably less than 80
days to accomplish it. But he’ll try.
Pagdanganan immediately took off to some foreign
shore, heroically proving the point that as
tourism secretary you are only as good as the
air miles you notch up.
When he came to his post (having been unceremoniously
turfed out of the Department of Agrarian Reform)
Pagdanganan pointed out that his stint as a
former president of the Boy Scouts Association
of the Philippines would stand him in good stead
in his new job.
Most people failed to see the connection, but
not us. The motto of the boy scouts movement
is “Be Prepared.” And as tourism
secretary you have to “be prepared”
to be a full- time tourist.
* * *
THE unnerving experience of a Visayan politician
-- and in the throes of an election season at
that -- could serve as a salutary tale to anyone
thinking about popping the latest pill on the
market for erectile dysfunction -- or “limpdickery”
as it is referred to in laddie magazines.
Move over Viagra.
Enter Cialis,
which is now being promoted as the “miracle”
drug by a market that indexes erectile dysfunction
as squaring off with marital dysfunction. But
the downside is the curious and unpredictable
way it reacts with some people -- which is where
the politician referred to above comes in.
It worked wonders when he took it for the first
time, leaving his young conquest crying for
relief from his insatiable (not to mention acrobatic)
urges. But some hours later it was his turn
to scramble for deliverance as one of the rare
posteffects of Cialis set in -- an erection
that just would not go down.
Apparently, this led to him having to cancel
an important meeting he was due to hold with
his campaign team about his bold plans during
the coming erection. . .er
. . . election to challenge his opponent head-on.
Though understandably, no one on his team had
cause to take a hard-on into consideration.
If that was not bad enough, another occasional
though somewhat curious post-effect of Cialis
that the manufacturer cautions about -- the
inability to distinguish between various colors
-- came into play to bug him as well.
Under normal bedroom conditions this particular
effect should not have posed too much of a problem.
But since he had supposedly chosen for his tryst
a suite in a well-known chain of motels with
a penchant for psychedelic décor he thought
he had accidentally blown his mind with LSD
and ran screaming from the room until his driver
tackled him.
The moral of the story: If you are planning
to take Cialis, think long and hard about it
first.
source:-http://www.abs-cbnnews.com
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