THE ART OF CLEANSING

Malou Mangahas and the Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism (PCIJ) should be congratulated. It is a singular honor, this privilege of sharing with the nation former Armed Forces chief of staff Angelo Reyes’ musings on mortality.

I must admit feeling bewildered, however, by the title, “A warrior comes clean in last battle for honor”. I am afraid it gives the late Mr. Reyes too much credit. And Mr. Reyes already does much of that, starting with the implied claim of having lived – and died – with honor.

I must have been reading dictionaries from Mars. After reading the article and transcript of what will forever stand as Reyes’ last testament, I still don’t get it.

Admitting that something stinks in the Armed Forces (despite the big number of honorable men that serve it) isn't exactly like gifting us with the Hope Diamond. Everyone knows about the stench, including and especially the men on the bloodied fields who make do without the privileges Mr. Reyes' enjoyed.

(Mr. Reyes famously said he was not rapacious, was not an extortionist. What people really wanted was a clear answer as to whether or not he accepted P50 million in pabaon and a monthly allowance of P10 million. What people will remember is Mr. Reyes saying he does not remember accepting. His last testament shows no sign of a reinvigorated memory.)

I appreciate the fact that the Mr. Reyes wanted to accept liability for something. I appreciate that he did not flinch at “giving up something” – his life, as it happens. I appreciate that he admitted not being guiltless.

Mr. Reyes mused:

“Honor, truth, but there must be justice. And justice can be served if laws are applied evenly and well – not favoring the rich and powerful. I hope my case/situation will not be used as something that would bring closure to the issue of military corruption. The fight to reform the system and the entire country must continue; the sad part is that they are selectively targeting individuals and institutions.”

That is hardly an original thought. It is, in fact, the cry heard daily in the hundreds and, sometimes, thousands of posts on Facebook and elsewhere. It is the cry that rises daily from ramshackle eateries and coffee shops, jeepney stops, factories and farmlands.

Millions of Filipinos despair of the filth that chokes off routes to development in this country. Millions wonder if we will ever cleanse the nation’s arteries of this plague. Yet the same millions, even just by speaking out, show a willingness to continue with what sometimes feels like a thankless, hopeless task.

Mr. Reyes could have done the nation a great service. He could have fought the last great fight to show genuine remorse for presuming regularity and accepting a “grossly imperfect system” – which is an understatement.

But coming clean isn’t done by sketching vague WHATs, and barely there HOWs.

Of all people, a general knows that victory must necessarily start with a map with the right information. That is never any guarantee, of course; there are too many volatile factors. But it sure would help clarify the playing field.

Instead, we are left with murky directions, other than what we already know: That the rot did not start nor end with Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo. And even that he couldn’t relay in clear, concise terms.

So, forgive me for not being impressed.

It may be that we ordinary folk may have a different, erroneous definition of honor.
Maybe, as we have all been told directly or obliquely this past week, we ordinary folk have a missing gene that blocks us from understanding that suicide is a heroic act of saving so many "brave and honorable" – and stunningly wealthy --men and women and the institution they serve.

Maybe there IS something wrong in the genetic makeup of ordinary folk -- including tens of thousands of soldiers who face death daily. Why is it so hard for us to understand that it is to the troops’ interest that they are kept ignorant of how billions of pesos -- meant to sustain them in the trenches and fetid jungle trails and godforsaken hamlets -- ended up in the bank accounts and mansions of a few men and women?

So many men of stratospheric IQs, including former President Fidel V. Ramos, want us to know that truth can be a dangerous thing, that it would be cruel to let a man torn apart by bullets know that these killer ammo originally came from boxes marked “DND” of “AFP” or “PNP”

The soldiers know about conversion. We know about conversion; Fe Zamora wrote a darn good story on it a couple of years back. We know conversion is a shortcut. We know it is sometimes used to save lives and ensure battlefield victories.

Now we all know that conversion gives but crumbs to the troops. Now we know the bulk of conversion proceeds are used to purchase apartments from Donald Trump, mansions in exclusive subdivisions, dozens of shopping trips and god knows how many twirls from a DI.

Unfortunately, all we get from Mr. Reyes are crumbs of the truth. He may have set himself free, but it’s a long road to freedom for the rest of us. Mr. Rabusa has his work cut out. As do the friends who finally convinced him to come clean (though we’d like to also hear an accounting of Rabusa’s wealth).

Mr. Reyes spent a lot of time talking of EDSA 2 and the woes this has visited on him. I hope it gives him some comfort to know that the only reason Jinggoy Estrada ended up playing a prominent role is, because those who supposedly trod the straight and narrow balked from the challenge of helping an institution come clean and confront the rot from within. The coming days, hopefully, will tell us WHY.

TONE DEAF

“Extraordinary rendition and irregular rendition describe the abduction and extrajudicial transfer of a person from one nation to another.”

The phrase clearly sports a different meaning from just the legal term “rendition.”

The "extraordinary" kind, much in fashion due to US pressure following 9/11, was/is a method of circumventing other nations’ sensitivities to such problematic concepts as human rights and civil liberties.

It plays this way:
• If the citizens of Nation A frown on torture, but their government will look the other way, as
• Nation B (which may or may not condone torture but doesn’t want a propaganda fallout) kidnaps a suspect (usually under custody of Nation A law enforcers) and,
• Brings him to Nation C, which is known for its enthusiastic – and official -- use of the darker arts.

Whatever information comes out of this caper is shared by all three nations but often on the discretion of Nation B, which also unofficially directs the interrogation.

Ordinary rendition, on the other hand, simply means “a surrender or handing over of persons or property, particularly from one jurisdiction to another.

Wiki adds:

For criminal suspects, extradition is the most common type of rendition. Rendition can also be seen as the act of handing over, after the request for extradition has taken place.

Some countries, especially in the Scandinavian region, will refuse to extradite suspects to countries that a) practice torture or b) impose the death penalty. Simply put, they extend to alleged criminals the same respect they confer on their citizens.

In other countries, including the United States, a suspect sought for extradition can use the host nation’s justice system to contest that same order.

Until recently, I thought the Philippines, in theory, at least, followed the more civilized practices covering aliens who find themselves in trouble – although journalist friends have joked that the worst thing an alien can do is ask Immigration agents to work for his deportation.

Under the radar

Then came the case of 14 Taiwanese nationals nabbed “for an alleged scam to swindle mainlanders out of $20 million.” The cross-border fraud involved, among other things, the use of credit cards. They and their ten Chinese mainland cohorts were arrested in December. There doesn’t seem any question about their involvement in crime – a very lucrative enterprise gauging from their posh rented homes in exclusive villages here.

Very little was known of that affair until Taiwan, frustrated by having its representations brushed off by our officials, decided to recall its representative and announce economic sanctions targeting, unfortunately, an estimated 80,000 Filipino workers.

An abs-cbnnews.com story explains the reason for Taiwan’s anger:

“All of those arrested were deported to China, despite protests from Taipei, which said they Taiwanese should have been sent back to the self-governed island to face justice.”

When the story first broke, dzMM anchors Noli de Castro and Ted Failon were having a rare interview with Executive Secretary Jojo Ocho who mentioned the Philippines’ One-China Policy (we officially recognize Beijing but, like many countries, have quasi-diplomatic relations with Taipei). He also claimed that the Taiwanese did not have travel documents and were in the company of mainland Chinese, and so the Bureau of Immigration, which is under the Justice Department, decided to deport them to China.

Someone else repeated the One-China line though this was latter dropped – presumably with officials realizing the consternation in diplomatic circles; the argument morphed into something like this:

According to Malacañang spokesman Edwin Lacierda: authorities in the Philippines will not allow the country to become a haven for international crime syndicates. "The crime was committed in China. It is in our best interest to deport them to China," he said.

Omission, commission

How deportation to Taiwan translates into allowing the Philippines to become a haven for crime syndicates isn’t clear to me. I’d normally say something was probably lost in translation, except that Lacierda was speaking in English and not Mandarin.

Besides, that’s not quite what Taiwan is saying. The Journal Online reports:

A statement issued by Taiwan said “the Philippine Government handed over 14 Taiwanese nationals, holding Taiwanese passports, to the People’s Republic of China early in the morning of February 2, 2011. During this act of deportation, the Philippine Government abandoned its own sovereign jurisdiction, violated Section 38 of the Philippine Immigration Act (CA 613) and instead based the deportation on Section 37 of the said act, ignored the due legal process, contradicted the nationality principle of jurisdiction in international law, and made a serious mistake.”

I've read the law and think you could play it both ways. Taiwan can say, he's our national. Some Philippine officials are claiming they came from China and, as Justice Secretary de Lima says, "China issued travel permits."

But what's strange is why the BI -- and the DOJ -- couldn't even be bothered to double-check the Taiwanese's claims.

“Taiwan’s representative to the Philippines said he was not given any opportunity to directly communicate with Philippine officials regarding the issue because they were not informed of the incident.”

“Furthermore, no prior notification of deportation was given to my office, and the deportation itself proceeded secretively at midnight, which shows no due respect to the Government of the Republic of China.”

Later, the Manila Economic and Cultural Office (Meco), our unofficial embassy, said it had forwarded to the Taipe Economic and Cultural Office (Teco, Taiwan’s counterpart) the visas and copies of the 14 Taiwanese’s travel documents.

This was the Teco’s effort to prove the 14 were its nationals. But the Palace, which seems to be in the habit of eyeing all other Chinese entities as little provinces of Beijing (remember the Hongkong fiasco?), brushed off Taipe’s protests and, to add insult to injury, told it to take the problem to Big Brother.

Stealth, bad faith
On the early hours of February 2, the Taiwanese were brought with their Chinese cohorts straight to the tarmac of the Ninoy Aquino International Airport (NAIA), in a convoy escorted by National Bureau of Investigation (NBI) agenmts. They did not pass the usual immigration channels. They were flown off on a chartered plane. And the poor Taiwanese officials were inside the airport trying for a last ditch attempt to get their citizens.

I can accept the insistence on original documents. What confounds was the BI’s haste to extradite the Taiwanese to Beijing. The Palace uses the word, “deport,” but when it is used in the context of Beijing demanding this action, it is tantamount to extradition -- minus the normal channels of redress suspects can use.

And because the "extradition" was demanded by a third country, that veers off to rendition territory -- especially because, as we now know, the Taiwanese had already gone to court for a solution. Now the Court of Appeals wants the BI and the DOJ to explain why it should not be cited for contempt in its attempt to preempt judicial action.

After all, the deportation occurred after the CA's Jan 31 issuance of a writ of habeas corpus, ordering the BI “to produce the living body” of petitioners Chen Ho-Yang, Li Yuan Hsing, Tai Yao-Pin, Chen Chia Hsiang, Lee Hsiang Pin and Lin Ying Chang. The petitioners had also filed for a temporary restraining order (TRO) on the deportation order to China.

Guess when the BI was being asked to present the Taiwanese? February 2. This is what is worrisome, that the BI (and the DOJ) seemed to have gone out of their way to appease Beijing, even to the extent of ignoring and actually thwarting the appellate court. As our criminal lawyers say, it is premeditation that turns homicide into murder.

We can talk about technicalities and the legal fine print. But officials of this government that ostensibly walks the "tuwid na daan," seem to forget the basics:

Would WE want our nationals to be treated that way? Or are we so used to not caring that we’ve imposed our standards on other governments?

Secrecy. In the dead of night. Keeping supects’ governments blind. That sounds very much like extraordinary rendition.

The latest word, after blustering that there is nothing to apologize for, is a plan to send an emissary.

"Presently, MECO (Manila Econolic and Cultural Office) is handling the issue. I might be sending an emissary to discuss with them particular issues and to explain why we decided the way we decided," said President Benigno Aquino III in an interview Thursday. http://www.gmanews.tv/story/212657/phl-may-send-emissary-to-taiwan-to-settle-row

Trying for governance by oido. Unfortunately, some people are tone deaf. And now cafe circles are buzzing with awful speculation: That some guys did not want Taipei to get hold of some embarrassing stuff and so hurried to send off these guys to the mainland. Oh jeez, and you thought stories like these ended with the last President's term. It may NOT be true. It's probably NOT true. But haste and secrecy ALWAYS raise presumption of irregularity.

MISS SAYO

What I remember are the legs. Best gams in town and some of the snazziest shoes, too.

She could afford the shoes and the matching leather bags, the pair always a shade lighter than her dress. Miss (she snorted at Ms) Rosario Perocho was single, from a middle class family with surplus income. I never saw her in heels shorter than three inches. And these were always tapered, mirrors of how her calves swept down gently into ankles with smooth knobs and white valleys even in areas that normally catch dirt.

Miss Sayo loved flowing georgette dresses and the occasional pencil skirt. All the feminity was from the neck down.

She tried her best to present a grim face. She often sported a bulldog's ferocious snarl, the kind you see before the bite. Other teachers screeched and yelled and, from time to time, swung books and bags at hooligans. Ms. Sayo froze even the most rambunctious high school kids with a glare atop those spread legs and the hands on her hips.

But up close, that effect was often ruined by the mischievous glint in her eyes. She also liked to chortle, and her wards, especially the girls, took that as a message: We could give the world some concessions -- and then do darn well as we please.

She taught algebra. Math was the bane of my life. But for some reason, she refused to believe that. Miss Perocho got through my addled brain; and taught me to overcome fear of math. Then again, this was the teacher who transformed my older sister, Manang Grace, from an almost-failing math student into regional math champion -- in less than a year.

She often scolded me for reading secretly from pocketbooks hidden behind the bigger math book. But then she'd tell a different class a few hours later that if students must read on the sly, she'd rather have them like Ma. Salvacion, reading Greek mythology, instead of trashy romance novels -- which I also devoured, hehehe, but she didn't know that.

She read perfect scores -- and the zeros -- after quizzes. I squirmed and cringed as she terrorized dear old boyfriend for getting zero while girlfriend aced the test.

But this is the scene I shall always remember. Ms. Perocho calling on a classmate, Francisco Catalan... Aaaah!

"Catalan!" (waving the results of a quiz)

"Catalan, stand up!" (Walks around the poor boy.)

"Tell me, Catalan, what do you want to be when you grow up?"

Catalan says, "seaman, ma'am."

Walks right into it....

"Aha! A seaman!" (Striding off and gliding back. Stands with arms akimbo.)

"A seaman? A seaman!" (Stares down at the quivering boy.)

"And when they ask you to calculate the distance between Manila and Guam, you will end up in Cotabato!!!!"

Poor Francisco. But that must have done him some good. Last I heard he was a high-ranking merchant marine officer :)

They don't make them like the old dragons anymore....

OF CARS AND MEN

I miss the Love Bug. The little beetle at least chirped a happy song with psychedelic abandon. And she'd chug and chug for miles with a just a lil slick of oil. Now we've got road monsters that people kill for. And racy coupes to make up for the lack of luvin'.

Turns out, Ms. Porsche's the least of our problems. At least, the hot babe's sometime driver doesn’t off folk; some car collectors' gals end up very dead.

We got to drive off them devils. So we got to do another extravaganza. A dozen chopped heads should do the trick.

Go, call the maker of “Chicago”. Tour him around and show him our glam crime bosses who strut as gorgeous dames cling -- or imagine themselves as gorgeous dames. Designer handbags and tortured designer shoes, designer dusters. One doo-doo-wop-wop needed to complete our musical. Bekimon, go duet with that Dominguez moll on the perils of leveling up. And while at it, jive with a judge or two to the tune of Bail-Out Rock.

The Engineer’s got nothing on Raymond; he and a certain golden boy can warble a ballad on the finer points of love and leather. You want exotic? We’ve got exotic! Somalia’s got nothing on Manila!

Pretty boys go up in flames. Buses go boom. The sweet, sweet smell of dynamite. Priests firing guns, cops hiding goons. A Liberian haunts our airport; gatekeepers out-ghoul the ghouls. A man spends 24 hours perched on a bridge and another twitches in a necklace doused with gas. Cops like red, soldiers prefer white and yellow’s what you call that tub of lard conveniently scarce these days.

On the brighter side, we’re moving up; hah, the cost of murdering a journalist just zoomed from P10,000 to P150,000. Lady Progress smiling, though maybe only for Palawan with its oil and honey.

Well, I ain’t got a Porsche, ain’t got a Lexus, ain’t got no entrée to gay society. All I want is to duck and live long enough to cuddle with my pup. And now they roll out the latest ditty: Letting Sleeping Dogs Lie in Your Bed Can Kill You.

Sleep well, peeps!

Forgiveness, yes, but justice above all

Paul Ouano Licuanan was still digesting the latest commentary of “Ramatak” anchor Gerry Ortega when he received a text message from his wife. (*Photo courtesy of Paul)

Just a few minutes after his radio program on RMN Puerto Princesa local affiliate, dwAR, Ortega died from a gunshot wound to the head while shopping for clothes in a second-hand store in Barangay San Pedro.

Licuanan rushed to the crime site. He managed to take photos of the slain man fondly called Doc Gerry by Palawan’s environmentalists. Doc Gerry’s body lay in a pool of blood, so fresh it was still bright red.

He was the second journalist in Palawan killed allegedly for their intense criticism of mining activities in this tourist paradise.

First, there was Dong

Doc Gerry was a good friend of the first victim, Fernando “Dong” Batul. Also among Doc Gerry’s other friends are journalists forced to leave Palawan after environmental reportage led to a barrage of death threats.

Doc Gerry had received numerous death threats, too; some of these he read during his radio program. The danger posed by his environmental advocacy had forced him to hire a personal aide.

“We already got him a bodyguard kasi mas marami na yun threats lalo na before the May elections. I thought nga na nawala na. I never thought people will actually do this. In his fight for what is right he made a lot of enemies," his daughter, Mika, told ABS-CBN.

Still, the gunman had managed to get close enough to shoot Doc Gerry at pointblank range. And he could have gotten away, too, except for the valiant chase by Doc Gerry’s aide and the timely help that came from responding fire department workers.

The alleged gunman, Marlon Dicamata or Marvin Alcaraz, is with the police. He is either from Taguig City or Pagbilao, Quezon. Such is the way of hired killers, who shed identities as easily as they throw away murder weapons.

Doc Gerry was a hard-hitting commentator. But his environmental work also had a softer side. He was project manager of ABS-CBN Foundation’s Bayanijuan in Puerto Princesa.

His project had just launched five ecotourism sites in Puerto Princesa: the Pacific Asia Travel Association Gold Awardee firefly watching in Iwahig River, Dalubkaragatan Bacungan river cruise in Sitio San Carlos, Pambato Reef snorkeling, dolphin and whale watching in Honda Bay, and Ugong Rock spelunking and zipline.

“Gerry's death comes as a total shock and only serves to increase my determination that his dreams come true,” ABS-CBN Foundation managing director Gina Lopez said in a statement.

“He loved Palawan, and his greatest passion was to protect its natural resources. He could feel the pain of the communities that we’re adversely affected by mining. He loved from his heart the communities we were helping. I personally commit to make sure his dreams come true.”

Under siege

Palawan’s pristine environment is perpetually under siege from economic activities, ranging from the small-scale subsistence kaingin to multi-million peso mining concessions. Recently, environmentalists in Puerto Princesa have reported that quarrying, which has been banned, has resumed on the city’s outskirts.

Ortega would have met tomorrow in Manila with other anti-mining advocates under the Global Legal Action for Climate Change (GLACC) network.

Doc Gerry was no flash-in-the-pan, no mouthpiece for whatever flavor-of-the-month issue attracts nongovernment organizations (NGOs). He and Batul were already hard at it in 2006, the year two gunmen hit Batul with 12 bullets, including one that him right between the eyes.

On May 22, 2010 a short poem appeared in a blog.
Many have died before you.
And after you.
Some more gruesome.
Only a few got justice.

It was Batul’s 4th death anniversary, and the first time for poet-blogger Ely Valendez to tackle “sensitive stuff.” Now Valendez will have two anniversaries to commemorate.

Political strategist Peter Sing remembers Ortega this way: "There are two things i can fault him with - his uncompromising st...and against corruption and his inexhaustible drive to protect and enhance the environment. Rest in peace Doc, but please guide those you have touched in Palawan to remain strong and pursue the dreams you share with them."

Ortega may have been a fiery commentator, but his oldest daughter, Mika, says Doc Gerry had publicly forgiven the murderer of his father.

“It’s not conventional but even when in deepest pain, my father would still choose to do the right thing,” she notes.

‘”And as his family, we follow suit. We will seek justice but we will forgive. My father would’ve wanted that,” Mika adds.

Mad, mad world

Is it the book? (Dune, after Frank Herbert's death, still with no-ships falling through fold-space and landing on strange worlds, much like "Inception" with a more interesting cast of characters.)

Or is it just the pull of the fool moon, the jester chortling from his safe orb? Such an array of off-kilter news about off-kilter lives and minds skedaddling down the rabbit hole.

The odds for "bowel cancer" appearing in tandem with "red musical tie" -- and, natch, taking a bow in London's august Parliament -- would probably be up there with one person winning a P300-million Grand Lotto prize.

Husbands are for the taking at $17/hour in Georgia. They're probably hirsute and gruff, and secret grandchildren of Stalin with cellars full of arms, but they can pound hard and harder;that's all that counts when you got a couple of loose screws. Plus, in an area where jobs are hard to come by, you probably can get them to agree on some more punting and panting after hours.

Cubao's urchins are exercising their nascent capitalism skills as Donald the Chump proclaims the death of the same, unless the US of A decimates the enemy called China. I'm praying the enemy doesn't sic Rosie on him because the Donald could just hire Joan to dump on Rosie, who'd then scream for Gervais, and then we'd have a year's worth of baaaad stand-up routines.

In some courtroom, a man who calls himself a lawyer posits: It's not murder if you unleash bullets a second or two after someone succumbs from a heart attack or asthma, which presumably is what happens when dozens of armed men herd folk to the edge of a hillside crater in Maguindanao.

It's not murder; it's called a helping hand. Maguindanao is a special place, where people commit suicide by hacking their heads off. And you don't even have to believe that because in that swathe of land ruled by people called Ampatuan the only capital allowed are bullets and bolos. I don't know what the Ampatuans snort in the comforts of their mansions, but some Florida burglars, high before the deed, mistook the ashes of a man and his best friend for cocaine. Depending of what mighty medicine Andal and siblings are taking, they can probably plead for mercy by claiming lousy timing.

As car thieves and murderers thumbed their noses at our cops, pimps and killers and hit men were being roused from their homes across America and Italy. Eight hundred law enforcers took in 127 men who probably have very serious sexuality issues -- you would, too, if given the name Junior Lollipops. By the looks of them, very serious weight problems, too, from wolfing down all that pasta and beef shanks smothered in sauce while debating when Junior gets to off Senior.

The East Coast may have its rough spots but that apparently didn't stop two precious-looking guys from their Big Apple winter rendezvous. I'm hoping they're not like the Brokeback boys or, if they are, live in some decadent, scandalous devil's hole where Chris Colfer can sashay down Main Street in peace. Because you never know which passionate patriot reads Sarah Palin's many tweets and decides to act on behalf of We the People.

There are all kinds of champions, of course, and an ailing "investment guru", which is more than a bearded man with a piggy bank the size of Alaska, has decided to mark the end of his life with a 66-page book on, well, investment advice... although you and I do not need to spend precious dollars to realize that, "Wall Street brokers and active money managers use your relative lack of investment expertise to their benefit, not yours..."

It's a digital world so the day's not complete without a giant or two brawling on the world wide Web. Mozilla blocks Skype toolbar, claiming crashes and slowdowns. Twitter Gets Sued For Creating "Virtual Community of Famous People". If they provide enough incentive, I'll take the stand and earnestly prove my fame and wave around a canceled visa as proof :)

Maybe if I get those 15 minutes Anna, mistress of José Saramago, the dog not the writer, will probably add me to the list of endangered species once she gets tired of the Ibex and decides to use her bootcamp Pinyin to start an Asian empire.

By that time, Jose would have mastered programming,each little paw with its own PC, the better to rule the world. Anna and Lillipop III would be playing Bocce in a Shanghai bar as Georgian hunks challenge Andal, the tittering Sarah wannabe, to take aim, fire and blow the brains of folk too stubborn to believe in the gospel of Ampatuan.

TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING? (Miriam's bill expands the umbrella of media)

"Journalism is a profession. I am just an opinionated BUM."

For years, journalist organizations have struggled to trim of their ranks of those who want the label but not quite the job. Now, blogger Dean Jorge Bocobo -- who's also often invited as an analyst by current affairs television hosts -- says thanks, but no thanks.

"I don't want 'Govt protection for bloggers'," says Bacobo on Twitter. "Before you know it we'll get Official Guidelines and become LURKERS."

Bloggers will probably not thank Bacobo for his generosity. But then the irascible teacher/pundit does not claim to represent them or other digital communicators.

Senate Bill No. 455, authored by Sen. Jinggoy Estrada, amends the Penal Code so that the killing of broadcast and print journalists immediately qualify as murder punishable under Article 248 of the same code.

Santiago wants to expand coverage of the bill. A release from her office notes: “There is no reason why only members of the broadcast and print media should be included in the proposed law. Due regard must also be given to practitioners of the ‘digital media,’ or those whose mode of communication is the internet and mobile phones.”

Santiago points out that many media practitioners use digital media to relay information, citing the country's major newspapers and broadcast stations that have websites and multi-media ventures. More from her release:

“Further, with the popularity of blogs and video-sharing websites such as YouTube, there are now a lot of people who regularly post sensitive political commentaries online, with content similar to those traditionally published in newspapers or broadcasted over the television. Even though they are not traditionally referred to as members of the media, they may actually be exposed to the same dangers encountered by institutional media practitioners,” Santiago explained.

Santiago cited as an example the case of Julian Assange, founder of WikiLeaks, who was reportedly subjected to harassment and threats after his website published sensitive and confidential information, including hundreds of thousands of US diplomatic cables.

The senator also cited the 2009 case of an online journalist in Russia who was forced to go into hiding after receiving threats for an article critical of the Russian government, which he published on his website.

Many print journalists, reporters included, transform into bloggers online.

There IS a distinction, despite what angry bloggers claimed the last time I ventured to say that on TV.

That distinction is not just due to rearguard action by haughty professionals who (supposedly) fear for their livelihoods in the face of a swarm of Young Turks. Nor is it in any way a reflection of one's gift of gab.

The difference is mostly rooted in economics.

A journalist's output is almost always the product of more than one person. Even a Pulitzer Prize-winning reporter or photojournalist, for example, will be working with at least one of these folks: a) researcher; b) desk person; c) senior editor; d) proofreader. At the least, a major American newspaper will have a layer of fact-checkers -- though, admittedly, that has not stopped sociopaths from smearing hard-earned reputations with lyrical, funny, even brilliant but totally made-up stories.

Most Philippine-based newspapers will have a lean team of guardians at the gate. Most broadcast stations here have producers of various levels and skills, writers, editors, camera people and sound technicians, engineers and other technical staff who work so that the audience can laugh, fume, weep or retch as they eat breakfast or dinner or midnight snacks.

Numbers do not necessarily reflect the quality of output. I have chortled (or raged) over glaring errors of fact and grammar on the front pages of some newspapers or major news websites. We've all furrowed our brows, at one time or another, as some broadcast reporter with a gorgeous voice and even more gorgeous face chatters "live" with no rhyme or reason. Indeed, the comfort of a crowd can make us lax, lazy or arrogant.

At the other end, there are very skillful lone rangers. We all probably have favorite bloggers, ranging from the "I_amHolo" with his gentle-funny wit, the professorial Danilo Arao, Ellen Tordesillas and other investigative journalists, outrageous Reyna Elena, and the very angry bunch over at anti-pinoy.com

Sometimes they're brilliant, sometimes they're juvenile; even the best will have their bad days.

I am a journalist. I am also a blogger. THIS is a difference: As a journalist, I submit my work to peer review (and/or have peers to help me prepare a report). As a blogger, I am answerable to no one.

Whether writing for a newspaper, a magazine, a broadcast script or a dotcom analysis, I try my best to abide by the ethics of journalism and all those other hard lessons. That does not change the fact that as a blogger I am accountable only to myself.

Having said that, I recognize the need to protect people's right to expression. That protection starts way before the act of expression -- whether on print, on stage or the digital page. (Part 2, 'We Are the World')