Hello students!  I hope you are taking advantage of how easy it is to gather information nowadays.  I’m sure you know that yesterday, GMA delivered her “hopefully” last State of the Nation Address.  What can you say about it?  Any reactions?  This is not required but I sure will take note of those who will give me a noteworthy reaction.

My reaction?  I think what Conrado De Quiros wrote yesterday in his Inquirer column says it all.   Read On….

STATE OF GRACE (Conrado De Quiros, July 27, 2009)

Even as our thoughts and prayers go to Corazon Aquino, I don’t know why our thoughts and prayers shouldn’t go as well to another who has been brought to the same pass. One who has just as deeply been part of our lives, one who has just as inextricably been part of our journey. His name is Juan de la Cruz.

Both have been laid low by the same disease. But are wracked by the same pain. Both are fighting for their lives.

They say that when one is confronted by the specter of death, one’s thoughts turn less upon the things of earth that upon the things of heaven. Less upon the state of the body than upon the state of the soul. I don’t know that that is always true, I don’t know that that should always be true. I don’t know why grieving for the plight of Cory shouldn’t make us grieve just as well for the plight of Juan de la Cruz. I don’t know why grieving for the plight of the Ina ng Bayan, which Cory has proved to be, though she never with characteristic humility claimed to be so (it was Imelda who did), shouldn’t make us grieve just as well for Inang Bayan, whose existence is being blotted out of the memory of the race, leaving us a nation of orphans.

I do not know that Cory herself would begrudge us the thought. You cannot find a living Filipino who has been more resolutely spiritual and secular at the same time, who has been more steadfastly Christian and charitable at the same time, who has sought heaven through the ways of earth. Unlike clerics, whose mouths turn constantly to God but whose deeds turn constantly to comfort, Cory has tried to do the bidding of heaven on earth, at least as far as she is able to discern it. She has lived righteously without being righteous. She has lived morally without being moralistic. She has lived loftily without forgetting to laugh.

We do not do her ill to gaze upon the agony of the nation while she is in the throes of hers. Indeed, we do her well to follow her example. If she as an individual can will herself to fight the thing that pins her down, we as a nation can will ourselves even more to fight the thing that pins us down.

There is a comfort to be had here. And that is that while we are often powerless to cure ourselves of our individual afflictions, we are never powerless to cure ourselves of our common one. There are limits to what you can do when you are felled by disease like Cory’s. You are dependent on doctors, you are dependent on technology, you are dependent on God. But there are no limits to what you can do when you are felled by a disease like Gloria. The fate of Cory is in the hands of God, the fate of the nation is in our own. The recovery of Cory is in the hands of her doctors. Our recovery is in our own.

This country is deathly sick, this country is sickly dying. A cancer has spread upon it as far and deep as the one that has spread over Cory’s body. It is one that has engulfed every organ, every pore of the body politic. It is one that has overrun all the good cells of the body politic and replaced them with monstrous growths. And the malignancy continues. And the malignancy riots. Even as we speak. Even as its source poisons the air with every word she utters.

The democracy Cory fought so hard to restore is dying. The democracy we fought so hard to regain is in its death throes. Not by accident, which human cancer is, but by design, which social cancers are. In particular by the hand of someone we put in power to revive it but who has done only everything in her power to bury it.

Cory cannot but feel personally wronged to see the person she entrusted democracy with betray that trust. We cannot but feel collectively betrayed to see the person we gave power to, though she never deserved it, use that power to spit on the very power that brought her to power. The world cannot but feel shocked and aghast that a people once so full of life and laughter have been laid so low, emaciated and torn, pale and languishing, teetering on the brink of death, the disease having eaten through them like a corrosive acid.

But we can always turn the cancer back. We can always stop the disease. That is the difference between a nation and a person, between a community and an individual. I do not know that Cory will win her battle against the thing that oppresses her, though she has been known to defy expectations, she has been known to work miracles. I do know that we are perfectly capable of winning our own battle against the thing that oppresses us. We too have been known to defy expectations, we too have been known to revive ourselves, like a patient with a bolt of adrenalin, at the point of near-death.

I am hopeful about it. No, I am certain of it. We did it before, with the uncertainty of heaven if we did. We will do it again, with the certainty of hell if we do not.

One thing I know about cancer from having seen friends battle it, some successfully, others not so. One thing I know about cancer from having seen this country battle it, from the time of Rizal to the time of Cory, from the time of the colonizers to the time of the dictators, sometimes victoriously, sometimes not so. You cure it by excising it. You cure it by stamping it out. You cure it by atomizing every malignant atom in the body to prevent it from spreading, to prevent it from metastasizing, to prevent it from rearing its ugly head in another place, in another time.

Our recovery is in our hands. As persons, we may lose our bodies but we can always save our souls. As a people, we may lose our riches but we can always recover our spirit. That is the point of struggle, that is the essence of victory. The time to do so is now. It is the critical hour. It is the twilight hour.

Let us fight to save ourselves. Let us fight to save a nation.

(Originally Published at Inquirer. )