Chief competition

Last week, I wrote about my naked ambition to become the next Supreme Court Chief Justice. Joining me in that quest, according to news reports, is none other than former Judge Florentino Floro Jr., who was earlier dismissed from the judiciary for his avowed ability to talk to dwarves.

Judge Floro (can I still call him a judge even after he’s been dismissed?) was booted out after the Supreme Court took him to task for consulting dwarves during healing sessions in his august chambers. Reportedly, there was also a medical report that said he had psychosis. A google search revealed that Judge Floro claims to be an angel of death, able to cause pain to his court audience, and that he can actually write while in a trance.

Well, those credentials aren’t so bad. And Wikipedia says he’s a graduate of the Ateneo law school. Considering my lean C.V., he might actually give me stiff competition. 

Judge Floro supposedly attached a picture of himself standing beside a stuffed dwarf. That was actually one of the conundrums I faced when deciding which photo to submit. I obsessed a little on whether I should go to a professional photographer, and hire a make-up artist to airbrush my natural good looks (ahem) to pictorial perfection. I also put some thought into the issue of whether I should wear a suit (to convey that I’m used to a high-pressure corporate environment) or a barong tagalog (to denote my pride at being Filipino). 

As my friend gave me hardly any time to focus, I ended up running to the nearest photo-me booth and posing in a simple green checked shirt with a white collar. Compared to Judge Floro, who was reportedly wearing money bills in his picture, my outfit now seems appropriately conservative.

I didn’t know this before, but apparently, applicants also have to submit a six-page application form. Browsing through this form (called the JBC Form – 1), I found many things that one might consider irrelevant and frankly, even an invasion of privacy. 

Why would there be a need, for example, to disclose my height (in meters) and my weight (in kilos)? I already find it excruciating to look at the weighing scale, do I have to share my distress with the rest of the world? I’ve also developed a (minor) defensive attitude towards being called vertically challenged – do I have to be reminded I’m less than six feet tall? And the age requirement!   No need to explain that one.

Scanning the form, I came across Item 24: Litigation Experience. (That should be fairly straightforward, I thought.) Then, one of the sub items under this heading asks the applicant to disclose how many cases he or she has won over the past five years, and more importantly, how many cases were lost. Uh-oh. Is the applicant going to be judged on this basis, when the vagaries of litigating cases in this country may not necessarily lead to results based on the abilities of a lawyer?

The next section, Item 25, asks the applicant for his judicial experience. Good for me. As I have none, I can skip to the next section. As for Judge Floro, I wonder how he’ll do on this one, although Item 28 is the question that might really trip him up. This was the section titled “Formal or informal complaints filed against you.”

In ominous tones, the item goes: “Have you ever been charged with violation of any law, decree, ordinance, administrative issuance, or regulation before any court, prosecution office, tribunal, or any other government office, agency or instrumentality in the Philippines or in any foreign country?”

(Um, do traffic violations count?)

Wait a minute. Judge Floro’s application is, like mine, conditional. His says he only wants his appointment to be made by President Arroyo. On the other hand, my application letter states that I only want to be appointed by her successor.

Darn.  He might actually have better chances of getting appointed.