Words

I like words. I work with words – they are my stock in trade. I have to be careful though because one word misspoken or miswritten can mean something totally different and unintended, hyperbole aside. “Taken out of context” is the phrase often used as an excuse when one is caught with “foot in mouth” disease.

Some terms have come to be associated with events of the past few weeks. The Senate is said to have become a circus, filled with clowns – a disservice really to circuses and clowns, which are legitimate and honorable, as a form of entertainment and a profession. (But maybe it’s in a way appropriate, as the Senate chamber is where “missing” senators magically appear when needed, even without smoke and mirrors.)

What has been happening at the Senate can best be described as grotesque (unnaturally odd, bizarre, disturbing to a shocking or highly unpleasant degree) and ghastly (denoting something extremely unpleasant). I’ve been getting help from Google and AI for the proper meaning of terms, catch phrases that have come into vogue in the past weeks.

“Protective custody” is a legal classification where government authorities detain a person for their safety and well-being, used to protect vulnerable individuals from immediate outside threats. In this case, the immediate outside threat was an arrest warrant of the International Criminal Court through Interpol against one re-appearing senator. And in this case, it extended to his “protective escape.”

“Under attack” refers to being the target of aggression, criticism or hostile action, from physical combat to heavy verbal scrutiny. I guess you could say the Senate on May 13 was “under attack” – from heavy scrutiny after its questionable actions earlier in the week. But it’s a hard sell when the claimed physical attack – gunshots! – came from your own forces, whose chief fired a warning shot (an intentionally misplaced gunshot to deter a threat). But 37 shots is one hell of a warning, wouldn’t you say?

“Kumusta ka” – how are you – has become a buzzword after a sobbing senator claimed no one cared enough to ask how she was when she was just two doors away from possibly fatal gunfire, fearing for her life so much that she had to call her kids to say goodbye. Of course it’s a good idea to check up on people, to ask how they’re doing; but do so with your elderly neighbor, someone who’s sick, a family mourning the loss of a loved one or a friend you haven’t heard from in a long time. Not plotting senators earlier seen feasting and joking together in a lounge in the building just before what turned out to be friendly gunfire.

“Force majeure” is a contract clause that frees parties from liability or obligation when an extraordinary event or circumstance beyond their control (such as war, strike, epidemic or severe weather) occurs, making it impossible to fulfill their contractual duties. It was supposedly force majeure that kept a number of senators – 13 of them, then 12 – from attending session, due to the war in the Middle East, the weather (mainit kasi) and maybe traffic… which is really just horse manure. But is being in jail a case of force majeure? Then that excuse works for at least one of them.

Majority is half plus one; minority is half minus one. In the Senate, the majority bloc consists of senators who voted for the winning candidate for Senate president, while the minority bloc consists of those who voted for the losing candidate or chose to align with him/her. An absolute majority is more than half of the total eligible members, regardless of actual presence. An absolute majority is needed to elect a Senate president, thus the one who wears the table runner is still, as of now, the Senate president, and the one with a “win sa sarap” lechon is “acting SP.”

Based on the now oft-quoted Avelino v Cuenco ruling, quorum is based on those physically within the “coercive jurisdiction” (power that allows the chamber to compel the attendance of absent members) of the Senate. Out of the total 24, two cannot be coerced to attend session – one because he is in jail and the other, well, you have to find and catch him first. That leaves 22, so half of that is 11 and with just one more (the other reappearing senator), there was a quorum to hold session.

Math is difficult enough without having to contend with shifting numbers and senators moving from majority to minority and vice versa based on self-interest, self- or family-preservation or plain political prostitution.

The Senate adjourned sine die last week, twice perhaps – once by the banging of the gavel in the session hall, the other on Facebook Live. Adjourning sine die, in parliamentary context, marks the formal, final end of a legislative session. It means the work for a specific term is completed, and all bills not passed are dead and have to be refiled in the next session. Sine die, literally “without day,” means to adjourn indefinitely, without a specific date or time to resume. In the case of our legislature, however, there is a specific date for resumption of session – July 27, the fourth Monday of July, when the second regular session of the 20th Congress convenes.

But wouldn’t it be nice if Congress – both the Senate and the House – would really adjourn sine die, with no date for their resumption of session? That would save us billions in salaries as well as perks and staffing and operating expenses – money that can certainly be put to better use. And then they can all go their merry way: some to jail, some to continue hiding, others to go on FB Live full time… And the rest of us can go on with our lives and be spared from this theater of the macabre.