WHEN we vote for a new president next year; worse yet, when we inaugurate a new administration, keep this in mind: none of these are special events, and there is no such thing as a presidential mandate that exalts a person above the wisdom, or lack of it, that he or she brings to the office. Someone just won a lottery or fixed it. We will have elected another kind or maybe the same problem. Sure, broadcast media will cover both events by intoning—instead of matter-of-factly stating—their small significance. A tenor will portentously voice over everything the cameras are anyway showing. A soprano will break the tedium by repeating more or less what the tenor said already. But keep in mind this is just the business of the media.
A presidential election is neither a transcendental nor a historic event. What would be historic would be the appointment of a Chinese governor general for the Philippines. No matter the sonority of the coverage, the president is just the guy who won, while the rest of the country likely lost again.
The presidency is the easiest and far and away the best-paying job in the world, considering the little that is ever done and even that is done by the staff.
That there is much that should be done is what lends gravity to the office and to its failures. So, from the moment the next affliction we invite on ourselves takes its oath to uphold the Constitution it will not keep, it is every citizens’ solemn duty—and that is the only solemnity in the event—to view him with suspicion and treat his actions accordingly; even as it is the obligation of the media not to describe him as sexually alluring even if he rides a black new car.
After the election, the winner is still what the candidate was before, except that he and his useless relatives and avaricious friends now feel entitled to their arrogance and cupidity.
Image credits: Jimbo Albano