O ur fellow Bicolnon writer, Conrado de Quiros, has been described by Joseph G. Lariosa, a Chicago-based Sorsoganon journalist, as the “Manny Pacquiao of Philippine journalism.” And if I may add, Mr. De Quiros is neither the Don Quixote of the Filipino Fourth Estate.

To read the article about Mr. De Quiros written by Mr. Lariosa, who is the dean of Filipino correspondents in America, please click on this link, “Manny Pacquiao of Philippine Journalism” Due in Chicago June 21

But at the rate Conrad de Quiros is crucifying Manny Villar and rubbing (sic but pun intended), oops, polishing and praising Benigno “Noynoy” Cojuangco-Aquino, III, to high heavens, readers may see the Philippine Daily Inquirer columnist as a Don Quixote who is battling windmills, political or otherwise.

Mr. De Quiros has to make up his mind if he will officially endorse Sen. Noynoy Cojuangco-Aquino, as per (again) Mr. Lariosa’s article, Should RP Newspapers Endorse Candidates?, or not. If he endorses Senator Aquino, this writer advises respectfully that he must write about his chosen candidate’s qualifications and strengths and not talk about the other presidential candidates’ weaknesses and disqualifications.

To illustrate, both this online publication and our Media Breakfast Club of Los Angeles, California, are now in the process of selecting a Filipino presidential slate that we will endorse. We will base our endorsement on the track records of the leading presidential candidates in their previous or present official capacities, to wit:

1.0           Noynoy Cojuangco-Aquino and his cousin, Gibo Cojuangco-Teodoro, and Manny Villar have served in the House of Representatives but only Mr. Villar has been elected by their peers as the House speaker among the three of them.

2.0           Jamby Madrigal, Dick Gordon, Noynoy Aquino, Joseph Estrada and Manny Villar are serving or have served in the Senate but only Mr. Villar has been elected Senate president among the said five presidential candidates.

3.0           The major pieces of legislation that all the 2010 presidential candidates have filed as main author in their stints in the Philippine Congress.

It may not be enough for Mr. De Quiros to cite in one of his recent columns about Manny Villar’s alleged refusal to address his peers at the Senate in regard to the so-called “C-5” (alleged)  Scandal as his “indirect” argument for Mr. Aquino’s candidacy. Senator Villar just did address the Senate Committee on the Whole two days ago. And the most-recent polls show that Noynoy Cojuangco-Aquino and Manny Villar are statistically tied at the top. And this renders moot and academic Mr. De Quiros’s words in his column, “Condemned now to languish in the shadows, Villar finds himself desperate to catch up with the new frontrunner.” There is no catching up now to do on the part of Mr. Villar, who not only survived the “C-5” allegations by some of his fellow senators but also apparently boosted his ranking in the polls in spite of the negative publicity.

We will wait eagerly for Mr. De Quiros’ next columns that will tell why he thinks Senator Aquino is the best candidate to become the next President of the Philippines – based only on the candidate’s strengths and not on his opponents’ weaknesses.

Editor’s Note: To read Bobby Reyes’s take on the “C-5” topic, please click on this link,

Five Points that Solita Monsod Fails to Discuss in Her “C-5” Article Critical of Manny Villar

H ere is a reproduction of Mr. De Quiros’ column, as reviewed by this writer:

There’s The Rub
by Conrado de Quiros
from Philippine Daily Inquirer

It’s almost enough to make you believe in an invisible hand that guides human affairs. Twice already the best laid plots of mice and Manny have been thwarted by an unexpected turn of events. Unexpected at least from his end.

The first was Cory Aquino dying and reviving something everyone thought was dead. Before that, Manny Villar was the leading presidential candidate, aided in no small way by a culture of apathy that made people settle for the lesser evil, the mediocre, the pwede na rin. But with Cory dying and Noynoy’s bid being born, the culture changed suddenly, the EDSA spirit returned with a vengeance, with its hallmarks of idealism and voluntarism, people now demanding not just the lesser evil but the good. And just as suddenly Villar—as well indeed as Arroyo and Erap (Joseph Estrada’s nickname), who had loomed large in the landscape—was swept aside. Condemned now to languish in the shadows, Villar finds himself desperate to catch up with the new frontrunner, resorting to interpreting a commissioned survey in various ways, not unlike the devil quoting Scripture to suit his purposes.

The second is the Senate censure of Villar for unethical conduct. He hasn’t been attending the sessions, preferring instead to plead his case before media. But whether before the one or the other, he has been put on the defensive at a time when everyone, not least the Aquino camp, expected him to open the year with guns blazing. He did try to, conjuring images of the Mendiola massacre and reviving the specter of Hacienda Luisita. Neither has flown off, which has little to do with the Aquino camp putting them down with brilliant ploys. Or indeed with doing anything to put them down. It has to do simply with Villar himself offering, if not ample refutation of them, ample diversion from them. It’s his sordid case that has grabbed public attention.

It’s not just SOBs, as Joey Salceda observed of his favorite one, that turn out to be lucky. Decent ones do too. Or the wind has changed, it’s no longer Arroyo’s enemies who are dying. The religious of course are bound to say this is not luck at all, somebody up there must be making pakiusap to the Big Boss.

Whatever the outcome of the Senate hearings—and this is not going to go away easily, to go by the shrillness of the exchanges—this case will hang over Villar’s campaign like an albatross, giving it the aura of a doomed ship. His own defense little helps to shoo away the accursed aerial apparition, being either extrinsic (it’s politically motivated) or glib (what he did was perfectly legal, if arguably unethical). Of course it’s politically motivated, but he didn’t particularly rail against the concept when the Department of Justice filed murder charges against Panfilo Lacson at the very time the Ampatuans were going to trial. As to his justifying the C-5 diversion as legal, it doesn’t make things better, it makes it worse.

Villar’s argument is that the diversion has greatly benefited the residents of Las Piñas and environs. Of course it has also greatly benefited him, the extension traversing his land and increasing its value. Unfortunately for him, that is not an incidental point, that is the heart of the matter. If the road had been diverted to other towns, then they would have greatly benefited from it. Far more importantly, that simply means that anything Villar does to improve his fortunes can always be argued to be legal by being beneficial to at least some people, thereby raising the prospect of a national policy—a chilling one should he become president—that says: What is good for Vista Land is good for the country.

That is a variation of “What is good for Standard Oil is good for America,” a concept that has driven the US to imperialistic wars, at great cost to its citizens, for the good of a few multinationals. On a smaller scale (though not for us who have to bear the brunt of its ravage), that is a concept that can drive the country nuts, neither government nor the citizens knowing where Villar ends and the country begins, and vice versa. The day you start arguing that what is good for you is good for everybody else is the day you should land in a nuthouse or in jail in lieu of Malacañang. Of course it’s not always easy to see where a nuthouse or jail ends and Malacañang begins, but that’s another story.

I am glad Satur Ocampo has found his voice, bidding his standard-bearer face the music, however the music sounds like Faure’s “Requiem.” It can’t help his cause harping on Hacienda Luisita while turning a blind eye on this, unless the argument is that corruption fells only the rich and not the poor, the landed and not the landless.

I have always wondered why of all the possible themes or images or identities, Villar had to choose being “mahirap.” The last time somebody tried it, who was Ramon Mitra, who projected himself so in an ad where he rode a horse and looked every inch like a cacique, he only shot himself in the foot. Villar repeats the farce, projecting himself as poor in a campaign that teems with money, reeks of money, regurgitates with money—of the ill-gotten kind given the way it is spent, which is not unlike that of a sailor hitting port. And whose standard bearer is named Manny. His foot is the last place he will shoot.

Mahirap is a curious word that translates in English both as “poor” and “hard” or “difficult.” The way things are, Villar may have just have found the perfect label for himself. Mahirap: mahirap kausapin, or hard to talk to, refusing to stand before the Senate to explain his conduct; mahirap pagkatiwalaan, or hard to trust, you never know what kinds of extensions he will justify in the future; mahirap ang kalooban, or depleted in the inside while endowed on the outside.

Someone like that proposes to lead you, you’re bound to say:

Mahirap na. # # #