Jack The Scribbler

Score one for sex video scandals, zero for the economy
Or make that 0.4 percent for the economy, the rate of its growth for the first three months this year.
Besides being the lowest in ten years, the first quarter turnout is also below government expectations.
This has prompted Manila to warn of a recession, defined as an economic decline for six months or more.
But who’s keeping track? Or more appropriately who cares?
No one, save for businessmen, economists, geeks, and business reporters who are required to ensure the veracity of their facts and figures.
A recession — or even the possibility of it — is bad news.
And to many Filipinos, bad news is old hat.

Katrina Halili in an FHM glam shot in better times.

Whether in the form of a power rate hike, a fare increase, or yes, even a recession, such developments are taken as a matter of routine; the knee-jerk reaction of a people who have long been deprived of their rightful share in the country’s financial bounty.
As a result, even after the government dared mention the “R” word, it barely caused a stir.
Sure, a continued slowdown raises the specter of factory closures and job losses.
So what else is new?
In a country where the number of jobs is — and has always been — as inadequate as the number of honest and competent officials, news of the economic slowdown is par for the course.
This explains why on Thursday — the same day the government warned of a recession — the whole country was agog with activities in the Philippine Senate.
Unfortunately, it was for reasons barely connected with legislation.
The august chamber was holding an investigation into a sex video scandal, involving actress Katrina Halili and her doctor, Hayden Kho Jr.
Not only was it given full, blow-by-blow coverage by television, radio, and internet news Web sites, the Senate hearing was unquestionably the day’s biggest event.
And that was just the beginning.
The event may yet attract more cameras and commentary as the Senate proceeds with the investigation supposedly in aid of legislation.
Meanwhile, substantial airtime and bandwidth alloted to the sex video scandal prompted a concerned citizen to send an email to GMANews.TV, which is my employer.
It could have been addressed to anyone.
“It’s time you all started to deal with, and report, the important issues facing the Philippine Republic,” the email message said. “I love this country, the people are the nicest in the world, but it may be about to go into recession and OFWs around the globe are already feeling the effects of the international recession.”
“It is no secret to the rest of the world that the Philippines is plagued with rampant corruption that reaches the highest levels of government, and you choose to waste 45 minutes discussing a sex tape for days on end?”
Point well taken.
Thanks F. for the reminder.
Except that between sex and serious business, very few would arguably choose the latter.

——————
A slightly altered version of this piece can be found here.

I’m sorry sir, that it had come to this.
If I had any kind of influence, I would gladly use it to have the blacklist against you revoked.
I would have wanted a multi-awarded actor such as yourself to visit our capital and appreciate its charms, which includes the stench of cockroaches.
Or at least that’s according to Claire Danes who made that remarkable, if brave observation fifteen years ago.
Of the world’s many poor, underdeveloped capitals that stank to high heavens, she had to choose to visit Manila, thereby forcing her to take in the powerful scent of the city’s armpit districts.
I’m pretty sure it wasn’t pleasant.

Alec Baldwin on a block of Monterrey cheese as conceptualized and created by an artist named Rakka on Flickr.com who has been gracious enough to allow use of his/her work. For more of the artist's work, please click on the photo.

However, Manila’s City Council felt differently about the whole matter.
Just days after Ms. Danes reportedly embarrassed the Philippine capital, the body issued a resolution that banned the actress from Manila.
While the move was hailed by all manner of lobbyists, sycophants, and self-proclaimed patriots, the order didn’t do anyone any good. Like most laws in this country, the resolution only showed the public that council members were indeed hard at work, protecting the nation’s pride and integrity at the expense of the truth. After Manila’s supposed assault on her olfactory senses (and her critical faculties), little was heard from Ms. Danes.
I’m sure the actress was hardly interested about ever coming back to the Philippines, a sentiment shared to this day by little brown Americans headed for — or currently living in — North America and various parts of the world.
Thankfully, ever since that incident, progress has arrived in Manila and in the country in general.
Fifteen years after Ms. Danes showed that she was right on the nose, the city and its offended residents have moved on.
No longer does Manila carry the stench that so repelled Ms. Danes, although on hot summer nights, it retains a slight hint of piss and sweat, making beggars and street people long for the good, old days.
Meanwhile, its residents have discovered the wonders of perfume, which many of them use in cloying amounts.
Indeed, many Filipinos may live in hovels, earn starvation wages, encounter regular police harassment, suffer from daily hunger, but we do smell good (and our prepaid cellphones have enough credit to send a text message to say that we’ll be late).
After all, looking and smelling good is a matter of national priority and cultural pride, besides making babies and allowing ourselves to be raped by US servicemen so that we could get US visas.
During the past decade and a half, many Filipinos have also been  introduced to the internet, a vast computer network developed by former US vice president Al Gore.
Faster and easier access to information — false, factual, and trivial — have made many of them more small-minded and parochial, jingoistic and oversensitive.
When you cracked that joke about Filipina mail order brides on US television, the whole country heard it via YouTube and read all about it through their email inboxes.
Naturally, they were appalled and disgusted at your remark, even though they cared little for Filipinas who dreamed of marrying foreign males they hardly ever knew.
In any case, the remark earned you a ban from the Philippines’ Bureau of Immigration.
You’re in good company.
After Danes, a Hong Kong-based journalist was also banned for telling the truth.
In his column, Mr. Chip Tsao called the Philippines “a nation of servants,” a piece of information that was factually accurate.
Except that it wasn’t something that enhanced our exalted sense of self.
I guess you very well know by now that Filipinos take everything seriously, save for political and economic reform.
This is the reason why it might take awhile before you can get the ban lifted.
In the meantime, let me just say that as a Filipino who is obviously in the minority, I apologize. I am so sorry that you had to be prompted to say you were sorry.

N. B. Good luck with having kids. And send my regards to Ms. Basinger. That is, if you’re still on good terms.

Journalism is far too important to be left to journalists.
The practice, the craft, and the art of reporting the truth — whatever that might be — could use a little constructive criticism every now and then from people who read, watch, and perhaps even live by the news.
It also wouldn’t hurt for media workers — especially those whose salaries are as big as their egos — to partake of the occasional humble pie, if only to make them realize that the message is more important than the messenger.
Instead of wasting airtime on their self-importance, news readers could help make the world a better place by making the news more relevant, sharper, in tune with their viewers.
Same goes for reporters and editors, both in print and online.
Self-indulgence and somebody-ism especially among media workers only increase errors of both fact and news judgment.
But then again, readers and/or viewers for their part should not be content being passive receptacles of information.

The National Union of Journalists of the Philippines opposes the Right of Reply Bill

If they feel that media coverage of an issue is unfair, superficial, or downright disgusting, they should send an email, write a letter, fax a note, place a phone call, or transmit a text message to respective news organizations that aired and/or published pieces that they felt were subpar.
They can even blog about coverage and treatment of issues if they wish.
These same rights can very well be invoked by any person or group of persons — public officials or private individuals — who may feel slighted news stories that may have put them in a bad light.
They can also sue for libel and demand civil and criminal restitution if they so decide.
However, a pending bill at the House of Representatives has brought this to dangerous extremes.
Under the right of reply bill (RORB), persons or entities whose reputations may have been put in a bad light through stories published and/or broadcast by any media organization will enjoy the right to have their replies published or broadcast by the same news outfit for free.
The replies will be given the same prominence and treatment accorded to the previous “unflattering” story or newscast, even if the persons and entities criticized were previously interviewed for the same subject.
If a newspaper’s banner story, citing documents, said that a public official stole millions, the newspaper is required to make the official’s reply as the banner story a few days later.
This, even if the same official was already interviewed for the same story, according to various provisions under the RORB.
Similarly, if the first gap of a news program aired a broadcast about an erring official, the news program is mandated to air the official’s reply during the first gap a few days after.
The same arrangement goes for online news Web sites.
If enacted into law, the RORB will impose “prior restraint” on journalists since it “clearly preempts and undermines the right of publishers, editors, and producers to decide on which news stories they will feature,” the National Union of Journalists of the Philippines said in its RORB primer.
“The RORB dictates what should and should not be published or broadcast by media organizations way before the latter can even decide on which issues are to be discussed,” the same primer said.
Besides being unconstitutional since it abridges press freedom, the law also contains flaws that its authors have failed to account for.
The bill’s Senate and House versions have yet to consider paid ads.
What if a well-meaning group criticizes an official and takes out an ad, either during primetime television or in the prominent pages of a newspaper? Are media organizations required to publish and broadcast the official’s replies as well?
No one knows because the proposed law — authored by Senators Aquilino Pimentel Jr., Francis “Chiz” Escudero, and Ramon Revilla Jr. and Representatives Juan Edgardo Angara and Monico Puentevella — contains no such provision discussing the matter.
A similar scenario arises regarding coverage of Supreme Court decisions.
If the High Court issues a ruling that finds 10 public officials guilty of plunder, is each official entitled to a free reply? Or should one reply for all of them suffice?
If the RORB becomes law, how will it consider wire stories originating from Manila that may not necessarily enhance reputation of public officials? Should Bloomberg or the Associated Press be required to run the reply of an official whose fingers have been caught in the till?
These and many other concerns only serve to highlight the major flaws of the proposed legislation.
Which only goes to show that indeed, if journalism is far too important to be left to journalists, laws — proposed or otherwise — are far too valuable to be left to lawmakers.

From the Not Exactly Insignificant Information Department.
RORB has a different meaning, especially among those whose business is business reporting.
The acronym also means return on rate base, loosely defined as the percentage a company — usually a utility — can charge customers for using equipment it uses in its operations.
Meralco, the Philippines’ largest electric company, is allowed to charge up to 12 percent of the worth of its equipment (i.e., cables) from its customers.
Unfortunately, that financial formula was recently replaced by the performance-based mechanism (PBR) which will reportedly do away with the 12 percent profit cap.
And what does that mean? Higher power costs for the rest of us.
Anyway you look at it, RORB — in both the journalistic or financial sense — augurs bad tidings.