Our very own O.J.

(Editor’s note: This column was submitted last Wednesday, Nov. 21.)

We Pinoys have found our O.J. Simpson, and his name is Rod Lauren Strunk. By the time this column appears, there’s every likelihood that Rod Lauren, as he’s been better known, will have been arrested for the murder of his wife and put behind bars to await trial. He may even have confessed by then–or, God forbid, committed suicide, as the rumor mill had him doing when he refused to come out of his room for longer than the crowd outside his house could stand.

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about meeting Nida Blanca as a boy and then writing scripts for her and incidentally meeting Rod as a fellow darts player in the 1980s. None of that qualifies me to make a statement about whether I think Rod is guilty or not – which, in a way, is the point of this present piece: no, not the guilt, but our seeming presumption of it, and our rush to judgment in this nation of kibitzers.

No sooner had Rod’s name been broadcast as the "mastermind" of Nida’s killing than scores of "friends" and "experts"– most of them plain usiseros and mirones, like you and me – came on the radio and on TV as well to say one of two things: that Mr. Strunk could never have done it (because, as one pedestrian insisted, against the ancient and colorful history of parricide, "No husband can ever kill his wife!") or, preponderantly, that only Mr. Strunk could have done it–and what took the law so long to come around to that obvious conclusion?–because, as another astute observer of human nature and physiognomy put it, "You could see it all over his face!"

All this tells me how far we have to go towards becoming a society ruled by truth, reason, and science, rather than by bias, intuition, and superstition. Of course, it’s entirely possible that Rod Lauren Strunk conceived of, and may even have participated in, the killing of Nida Blanca. Three weeks of watching Crime Night on the Discovery Channel will tell you just how many couples are parted by gruesome death, with one of the parties lending a willing hand. As even his lawyers admit, things don’t look too good for Rod right now, with a witness coming forward to finger him as the mastermind. And of course, people on the street will have their hunches and opinions, and will make them known no matter what.

What both amuses and distresses me is how the media – radio, TV, and print commentators alike –have pounced on opinion and conjecture as news, paying much less attention to the need for hard evidence. It isn’t the media’s job to find the evidence – that’s what we have a PNP and an NBI for–but to keep the discussion on an even keel. You can defend the media stakeout outside of the family home in White Plains as a legitimate wait for a newsworthy moment; but, pray tell, what purpose can be served by asking the turon vendor or even the avid Nida Blanca fan, "Do you think he’s guilty?" Ten million people screaming "Yes!" won’t bring us any closer to the truth.

Is it possible that some of us want to lynch the white guy because it makes us feel good about ourselves, because we’d like to think that no Filipino could be so evil, as I’ve heard at least one commentator opine?

It’s no different from the way the American media whipped up a storm of speculation around the O.J. Simpson case and the way the American public – black and white and all colors in between – reacted, so it just isn’t us. It must be something in the human condition that insists on privileging intuition, if not plain guesswork or prejudice – hula, kutob, and haka-haka –over the more arduous task of actually proving a case by reason and evidence.

Someone’s bound to bring up the point that we kicked Erap out of office on a hunch as well–that he had never been, and still has to be, proven guilty in a court of law. But Edsa 2, it seems to me, wasn’t so much about Erap’s guilt as about the subversion and denial of justice. We were perfectly willing to go along with the Senate impeachment trial until 11 senators voted to quash vital evidence. I wonder if we can be as circumspect with Mr. Strunk. (And on a purely stylistic note, observe how much blunter and more menacing "Strunk" sounds than the matinee-ish "Lauren," by which Rod was universally known before all this.)

There’s already more than enough hysteria and alarm to go around in this place–what with what’s going on at the Supreme Court, the Sandiganbayan, and the Comelec, with Nur Misuari, the MNLF, and the Abu Sayyaf, and in a Congress that seems reluctant to let go of a colleague named Jalosjos, who has the gall to compare his conviction with his former lover’s murder (and isn’t it bizarre how all these things connect at some point?). The last thing we need now is the kind of showbiz charlatan who’ll appear on late-night TV to swear that he or she witnessed Nida’s murder in a vision.

And while we’re in the neighborhood, will it be treason to suggest that Nida’s showbiz friends desist from proposing that she now be named a National Artist? Where were they, and where was this idea, when the actress was alive?

There’s no doubt that Nida was, indeed, a very fine actress who brought to certain trademark roles an inimitable spunk and charm. But the National Artist Award isn’t just another Famas or even another Urian award; it shouldn’t be so snooty as to exclude pop-cultural icons (Levi Celerio, after all, is a National Artist), but it can’t and shouldn’t be used as a glorified funeral wreath, an affectionate afterthought, or as a political plum (for which, unfortunately, it has already been used and abused).

What happens if, heaven forfend, industry stalwarts like Dolphy, Fernando Poe Jr., and Nora Aunor die tomorrow? Will they be made National Artists, too? They very well could–Nora has, in fact, been nominated several years running for the award, and might yet get it one of these days–but let the process begin now, if anyone’s serious about it.

Meanwhile, the best thing people can do for Nida Blanca and her memory is to get justice done on her case – quickly, cleanly, and resolutely – away from the klieg lights and the talk shows, and into the crime lab and the court room, where justice, or some recognizable shadow of it, presumably resides.

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And here’s a happy bit of news from my friend and colleague Jing Hidalgo, director of the UP Creative Writing Center, about this year’s Writers’ Night:

"The traditional Writers’ Night, sponsored by Likhaan: the U.P. Creative Writing Center, will be hosted this year by UP President Francisco Nemenzo, and will be held at the Executive House, U.P. Diliman on the 13th of December, from 6 p.m. onwards. It will be in honor of the U.P. writers who have won literary awards and published books in the last two years, and a kind of thank-you to the generous friends and patrons of the CWC.

"We are writing individual letters of invitation to the individuals concerned, but if you are a U.P. writer (faculty member or student) who won such an award or published a book, and you don’t receive an invitation within the next week or so, please assume that it’s the fault of your friendly neighborhood post office and just come!

"As usual, the affair is also a reunion for writing fellows of the U.P. National Writers’ Workshops and a Christmas party for all writers. But we don’t have time to send out invitations to all writers this year, so please take this as a personal invitation.

"This year, we don’t expect to raise any funds for the CWC, just to have fun. Linda Panlilio is providing a pianist, and everyone who feels like it can just go up to the piano and belt it out. That will be the program for the evening. Googoo de Jesus and Ed Cabagnot will be emcees, of course. No Writers’ Night will be complete without them.

"The CWC will run a small second-hand books booth, and Krip Yuson tells me UMPIL will have a small booth. too (although what it will be selling is still a secret).

"Since we have no way of knowing how many people will actually show up–we all know that no Pinoy would be caught dead R.S.V.P.-ing–we may run out of refreshments, so come early. If you want to bring a contribution–a platter of pancit or pasta or pizza or sandwiches or a bag of junk food, etc.–we’d be grateful. Erwin Castillo is, as usual, picking up the tab for the beer."

Thank God for friends and writers like Erwin–and see you all at Writers’ Night!

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Send e-mail to Butch Dalisay at penmanila@yahoo.com.