‘Silence of the bomb’
THE entire country greeted the New Year in deafening silence! Call it a muted celebration but those ground-shaking firecrackers fell silent by the stroke of the pen of President Duterte on Executive Order No. 28. It effectively banned the firing of pyrotechnics that resembled minirockets and similar makes in the entire country.
Earlier, skeptics said the presidential ban would not prosper in Metro Manila. They were mistaken. It did silence the landscape of the metropolis that for decades that was likened to a battle zone every New Year’s Eve.
What the President did to Davao City when he was mayor some years back could, after all, be replicated in Metro-Manila.
And the public went into a vocal uproar of approval!
The Department of Health announced a 77 percent reduction in firecracker-related injuries across the nation. While the Philippine National Police took pride in the fact that there were only 27 reported incidents of gunfiring, including four policemen and two enlisted personnel of the AFP. The rest were civilians.
Data of previous years showed cases of injuries by firecrackers numbering by the hundreds nationwide. Many of the victims were maimed for life
But it was not only the ear-piercing noise that disappeared. The smoke, firecracker debris, garbage that cluttered everywhere were nowhere in sight.
In previous years, our Batasan Hills subdivision would reel over the usual explosion from within and outside the village, as early as the first sign of nightfall. The staccato of explosions would continue till 2 a.m. the next day of January 1.
Last New Year’s Eve, there was a drastic change in the air. Neighbors welcomed it for they knew bodily injuries and air pollution were no longer the order of the day.
Even our parish priest began his homily with a smile during an early New Year’s Eve mass. ”The silence all around was the first I ever experienced in my 25 years as a priest,” he said.
We motored to BGC in Taguig with our elder son, driving, and his family. Cruising along EDSA and C-5 was a breeze. These two heavily used thoroughfares were clean and, of course, noiseless. The loudest sound came from vehicles whose passengers were obviously hurrying up for dinner with their respective families.
At the BGC High Street, myriads of people were already occupying all available spaces in the park, mini plazas, the streets, and, of course, the restaurants as early as 5 p.m., according to a uniformed police officer I talked to.
The shoulder-to-shoulder crowd was also confirmed by our younger son, his wife, and their 11-year old daughter who were co-hosting the family’s New Year’s Eve dinner at a Korean restaurant.
It was apparent that the celebration noise was the one that came from the shouts and catcalls of diners and revelers. Then those multi-colored pyrotechnics, minus the explosions (locals called them “pailaw”) started shooting up to the air, again accompanied by the thunderous applause and shrieking shouts of the spectators.
So, the President succeeded in transporting to Metro-Manila what he did in Davao.
What will he do next, outlaw cigarette smoking in plazas and parks, boulevards and avenues, buildings and offices -- public and private?
It canbe done! The proof – he just gagged Metro-Manila!
* * * CRUDE TRICKERY IN “IMPOSSIBLE.” Not all sleight-of-hand displays that delighted Metro- Manilans during the Christmas holiday show “Impossible” at the Araneta Coliseum were real magic entertainment. The “mind-reading” and the “disappearing P1,000 bill” were old tricks that a perceptive mind would not fail to notice. Our family of six were in the Green VIP Box, at P1,260 per seat.
The “participants” from the audience were apparently pre-chosen and coached to play their role beforehand.
Some spectators may have noticed that the show’s production assistants (they were Caucasians) were seen going to the audience seemingly cueing them to get ready when their names were called. The women participants were seated in the early rows in the orchestra section, the boys near the middle alley.
The “mind-reading” jester would read the names of the participants and rubbed an inflated balloon on their hair and, presto, he would reveal their names and other personal information about them! All the ladies could do was to answer “yes” to every info “discovered” by the jester. Bright, isn’t it?
The “incinerated” P1,000 bill was, in fact, a play money given to the “volunteer” before the show. It was torched to ashes on the stage by the jester. But the real genuine money was earlier embedded in the chocolate bar before the start of the show. When the participant broke the bar in two, the bill was “discovered” by the jester who returned the money to the “volunteer.” Why did I say all this? It is because I saw these tricks in a similar magic show in a theater in Las Vegas in the summer of 2004.
For example, the magician borrowed a “wristwatch” from a 12year-old boy (with a “participating” crowd-goer daddy) wrapped it in a thick handkerchief, smashed it with a hammer and threw the bundle into dust bin. The boy on the verge of “crying” was comforted by the magician who opened a tin can of peanuts and -- gracious goodness -- the real wrist watch was found inside!
As in the “incinerated” P1000 bill, the real wrist watch was sealed in that tin can way before the start of the show.
Crude and unrefined, this sleightof-hand thing!