Bush has emerged as the two-gun-toting Lone Ranger (Heigh-yo Silver!) from the Lone Star State of Texas, while Howard has cast himself in the role of Tonto. Remember the Lone Ranger’s Indian (not Abo) sidekick? What Tonto means in Spanish, of course, was probably not envisioned by the cartoonist who invented kemo sabay, but if the shoe or moccasin fits, what the heck. Heigh-yo Silver, away!
The sad part of it, alas, is that the foot-in-mouth Aussie leadership, assailed even by the Australian parliamentary opposition, doesn’t know how to backtrack gracefully – indeed, how to backtrack at all. They try to pretend everything is ridgy ditch and continue to bung it on (why, they don’t even speak English). Chris Kenny, a spokesman for Foreign Minister Alexander Downer, literally called the Asian uproar "nonsense". He huffed: "There’s been a lot of nonsense about this issue."
I guess what Aussie "statesmen" (to use that term very loosely) don’t understand, they describe as "nonsense", just as they love to use the terms "rubbish" and Dorothy Dixer in parliamentary debate.
I would like to think that Australians don’t understand the grievances of their neighboring Southeast Asians because of their own weird, incomprehensible language. They speak of bludging, cobber, furphy, pommy, larrikin, ratbag, ropeable, rort, sheila (yes, you girls), wowser, zack and ziff, or, in the big city, drinking with the flies, whingeing, swy, no-hoper, Buckley’s chance, hard case, offsider, game as Ned Kelly, full as a goog, whipping the cat, putting the acid on, dropping one’s bundle, cracking hardy, woolloomooloo uppercut, don’t come the raw prawn with me, bitumen blonde, boiler, charity molls, death adders in his pocket, dip the wick, royal naughty, talk a glass eye to sleep, kick the arse off an emu, and on the bugle.
In truth, it took this old journalist from Yarra Bend almost five years in my more energetic period to learn how "to stalk Strine" (how to talk Australian).
Perhaps, everything is summed up in a book I picked up years ago in a bookstore on Elizabeth street in Brisbane. It was written by somebody named Alan Veitch, and entitled: Drunk, Insane or Australian? Perhaps all three.
All I can say is: Mr. Howard, keep your troops out of the Philippines. We’ve got American soldiers here aplenty, already. One Bush is enough. We don’t need his carbon copy from the Australian bush.
The report of the Senate Blue Ribbon Committee, and the Committees on Public Works and on Constitutional Amendments, Revision of Codes and Laws clinches the argument. The Senate’s findings, in sum, back up the move of President Macapagal-Arroyo last Friday to declare the PIATCO contract invalid.
Sanamagan. The temerity of that noisy PIATCO official who gets so much unwarranted space in the newspapers of asserting that the President should be "impeached" for what she did! Perhaps a dunking in the Pasig River, or better that smelly estero near the airport, might restore sanity to some people.
Sus, the way those propagandists are blustering and blowing hard, one wonders whether they ever heard of the sub judice rule. For, when all is said and done, the real decision on the matter rests in the Supreme Court. (It’s not true, I’m sure, that some very much interested persons are bombarding certain Justices with blandishments).
We hope the Supreme Tribunal rules on the PIATCO question soon, so that Terminal 3 can be readied for the year 2003 under effective management.
As for the disgruntled German firm of Fraport AG, which poured hundreds of millions of dollars (euros) into building Terminal 3, in fact more than 90 percent of its cost, but later was left in the lurch, it issued a statement last Sunday (December 1). The giant German firm – owned mostly by the German government, and the State of Hesse in particular – asserted that it "has taken note of the Philippine President’s recent statements indicating that contracts in connection with the construction of the new terminal in Manila have been declared null and void". The German group asserted that "in this context, the Frankfurt Airport Authority emphasized that it became a member of the PIATCO consortium after the terminal concession had been awarded, acting in good faith that these contracts were legally correct".
Fraport AG added that "it is prepared to continue working on the terminal project with the government". It averred that it is "doing this in reliance on the declarations of the President and the Philippine government whereby the demands of Fraport AG are legally recognized and protected. In the interest of the Philippine people Fraport AG, with the Philippine government, remains committed to a timely inauguration of the new terminal in Manila".
The phrase "with the Philippine government" is significant. Fraport, in disgust, had turned off its financial tap several months ago. If more funds, as seems apparent, are needed to complete Terminal 3 and its access roads, and superstructures, don’t you think this is a timely offer?
Joe reportedly passed away, peacefully in his sleep. I had always imagined he would fly off to heaven, or wherever former tipplers (not "alcoholics") go, in the midst of telling a joke. He’s probably up there now, offering St. Peter a drink.
Joe remained to the end one of the wittiest of men, using his column in the Manila Bulletin to puncture bloated egos and spear situations squarely with a barbed remark. He remarkably retained that cherubic look on his face which was his impish trademark. The last time I saw him he was at his most agreeable, nodding in agreement, I thought, at everything I said. (I was set straight later, by a mutual friend, who informed me that Joe was almost deaf.)
In the old days, Joe was never seen without a drink in his hand. During our Manila Times days, he and his cousin, the equally famous columnist and pundit Teodoro F. "Doroy" Valencia – both from Tanauan, Batangas – conducted a long-running feud. We believed they were joking when they threw acerbic remarks at each other, but Doroy told us that their feud was deadly serious. Joe used to retort that the trouble with Doroy was that he was only "half-literate". What did he mean by this? we inquired. To which Joe chirruped: "He can read, but he can’t write!"
Joe once spoke of the time he met the Spanish Duke of Alba. "You’re the Duke of Alba," Joe exclaimed. "Well, I’m the biggest Joke in Manila."
The burol is in the Magallanes Church in Makati near South Superhighway, and the funeral will be held at 11 a.m. Saturday at Manila Memorial Park in Parañaque.
Are you wondering why, up to yesterday morning, no obituary appeared in Joe Guevara’s own newspaper, the Bulletin? I had received a text message on my cellphone last Monday that Joe had succumbed to "cardiac arrest", but searched the obituary pages in vain for confirmation. Then we heard it over the radio, and saw his death mentioned in a tabloid. My sister, Ethel Soliven-Timbol, who’s Lifestyle Editor of the Bulletin, arrived from Spain yesterday – and, straight from the airport (at my urging) rang up the Bulletin to make sure about Joe. Can you beat that? Editor-in-Chief Ben Rodriguez, on further inquiry, told our newsdesk that one of Joe’s children had requested the newspaper’s Chairman Emilio Yap not to run an obituary until Thursday – which is today. This is the first time I’ll urge you, Dear Readers, to read the Bulletin. If you want to know more details about the wake and funeral, you’ll find those there this morning.
Or better still, go to Magallanes Church to see for yourself – and say a prayer for Joe as well as for us, the bereaved, deprived of his ready smile and humor. Who knows? He might have one last joke to crack.
Farewell, Joe. God bless you!