The Onlooker: Pennies for My Thoughts

Three events have inspired me to stand on the witness podium and admire the world for its collection of sheer contradictions. To look at the world at the palm of your hands is a vain undertaking but it is to me nothing more but an art of witnessing; ergo, being an onlooker.


Last April 29th, while everyone else was celebrating the wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton, now the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, I did not exactly paint the flag of Britain right across my face nor did I pretend to be British and raise a champagne-filled glass in honor of the royal couple - I just could not help but watch the live coverage of the event at BBC. It gave me a good dose of royal culture and commoners' fanaticism, but as always, what I enjoyed about it the most was the experience of watching from afar. Except for the scandalous pictures blowing up in the aftermath of the wedding, which I hardly took heed knowing what the paparazzi is capable of doing (those desperate journalists might even be indirectly responsible for Princess Di's car crash), the wedding proceeded smoothly and everyone seemed genuinely happy. Some were happy enough to flaunt their fashion sense and the lack thereof. My only thought, as I assumed the guise of a reasonably interested onlooker, was that hopefully their union would last and not meet the same fate as their predecessors': the royal divorce.

The matryoshka dolls of Russia.

Two days later, after the royal hush-hush, a huge crowd flocked to St. Peter's Basilica at the heart of Vatican City, where Pope John Paul II was slated for beatification. Now hailed as Blessed John Paul II, it was amazing how even after his lifetime people never stopped revering the good man that he once was. The Blessed Pope's beatification was as grand as the royal wedding despite limited publicity. I remember clearly that it was also a Labor Day and I was with friends, frolicking at the biggest mall Cebu City could ever have, singing my heart out with people who were equally feeling loony that day, and eating at a restaurant I could barely afford to pay (of course, it was not my fault and someone else paid the bill). The realization came a bit late, since I had no contact with the Internet, a newspaper or a television the entire day. Not until nighttime, when I collapsed on our sofa back at home, did I realize what a big day it was then. Unfortunately, all I could do was smile earnestly and wish for my favorite Pope's eventual sainthood. They will inevitably proclaim him a saint. The least they could do for digging up his body from its resting place and parading it at the center of St. Peter's Square. Not to be entirely macabre about it, there's actually a walnut coffin safeguarding his holy remains. I just wonder if someone had the religious fanatic gall to lift the lid up and expose what's underneath, would it not be thrilling? Surprise! Another coffin. Meet zinc and then cypress. The Pope was actually buried in the matryoshka fashion.

The Pope's matryoshka-like burial.

So from royalty to holy to... terror. Damn. My rhyming momentum got screwed. And that's because the biggest screw-loose on this planet is finally dead. He expired a day after Blessed John Paul's beatification. As in capital D, E, A, and D. DEAD. It took almost a decade, but yes, the world's most hunted terrorist, Osama bin Laden, was annihilated by none other than his super power enemy, the United States of America. Although I studied culture, politics, world peace, global justice and all that jazz, I sadly felt nothing. Looking from afar, all the drama seemed remote. As if I was only watching a documentary film. Or maybe I had too much 'compassion fatigue' already but I fear that's not the case. I merely felt nothing for the man - neither righteous hatred nor a feeling of understanding (like one would have for abandoned and starving mongrels). Perhaps it's about time for him to leave the earth after inflicting so much pain on flora and fauna (plant species were also harmed every time he dropped off those bombs). He may be righteous, yes. Whether he was doing it for Allah, for the Muslims, for the brood he fathered, for his harem or for his own ego, only Osama could tell. The thing is, he wrought everything upon himself. No one would bother to kill a person who was not a murderer himself. An eye for an eye, Osama. You may have your story, but others do to. So... checkmate?

As an onlooker who have looked upon things with a CT Scan / 4D-echo vision ever since over-consciousness gripped me at four, these three events are, to me, good omens that imply the world may live longer than 2012. I am seriously serious. First up, we have Will and Kate's wedding, which was glaringly a by-product of lovey-dovey hormones (the degree of which I could not determine with exactness). He married a commoner, albeit a wealthy one and a knock-out beauty. In ancient times this could have led to a royal decapitation or a forfeit of royal inheritance, but with this development, it seems the British monarchy is willing to change with the changing times. Unlike that of his father and Lady Di's, Will's marriage to Kate was one of choice and not one of convenience. Nor did someone else arrange it for him. So right now, everyone is hoping for a new era of monarchs who would lead with heart and conscience - and not just with their blood, wealth (via the people's taxes) and influence.

Secondly, I think more than ever, Pope John Paul deserves immediate sainthood. Some may think it's a weird coincidence, but of all the times it could have happened, the terrorist ringleader, Osama bin Laden, had to die right after his beatification. I'm not strictly religious, but I believe in God, in the power of goodness, and in the unwritten forces that make retribution possible without the need to do something evil. So that's basically how it was with Osama. Having cheaply made fun of these forces and trying to cheat his very own Allah (who is just another interpretation of God for postmodernists), he died when he least expected it and right after the world's favorite Pope was declared Blessed. Imagine the world's most hated man die right after the most loved man was celebrated. It was nothing short of a miracle and such a wicked joy filled me just thinking of that (I like conspiracies).

Lastly, Osama's death, according to my eccentric self, is a good omen because even if this will not completely purge the world of evil, or terrorists for that matter, it does get rid of a fragment of the evilness (if not twisted righteousness) circulating all through out. The fate which befell the world's most hatest man is also a good heads-up to terrorists, insurgents, bandits and other social villains in hiding: YOU DO NOT ALWAYS GET AWAY WITH YOUR CRIME. Justice will find its way. And there are always some powerfully holy souls out there who may be capable of divine retribution. May God be with you, oh, lost lambs!

Enough said. Three omens enough to squelch the suicides' hope that every continent of this earth will be submerged in water by 2012. Being an onlooker is fun. Observing everything from a remote corner, you get to see some things more clearly than many of those who actually lived and breathed through the experience. Pennies for my thoughts? Yes. I should collect a lot of them if I am to be a real witness to this beautiful but often unpleasant world. Cloistering thoughts may guard ideas from leaking out to undeserving people, yet exposing them on one hand will connect you better to the rest of the world, one penny after another. In fact, the influx of pennies have already rendered me richer and richer in my head but not so much in my wallet.

D;D; D;


Anyway, to Will and Kate, to our beloved Pope, and to the U.S. Armed Forces - cheers! You guys just made my day.