Littered letter

THOROUGHLY AND thoughtfully should the Reverend Governor read his communications before affixing his name to them and sending them out for publication. That is if he cannot get a writer with a better grasp of syntax, grammar and composition than his current one, at least he/she that encoded his “open letter” of July 9, 2008.
Among Ed T. Panlilio’s epistle on his first-year performance as governor is – like any other performance report – intended to impact in the reader the weight of the accomplishments listed thereat. Thus, the need for a strong, attention-grabbing lead sentence.
“Our administration convened the 14 Provincial Councils and Boards for collaborative consultation and action.” By the longest stretch of the imagination, there is nothing even faintly impressive there. Since when did meetings by themselves become accomplishments?
“We constructed more than 20 kilometers of roads throughout the province which are worth P50M.
We provided more than P15M worth of medical supplies and equipment and upgraded our public hospitals to the tune of P20M.
We provided more than P10M worth of construction materials, furniture and fixtures for our public schools.”
Now, Panlilio is talking.Those activities sum up to a total of P95 million. In themselves, arguably outstanding. But not when ranged against the singularly excellent job Panlilio has done so far, the quarry collections.
“We collected more than P230M from quarry operation and gave P72M shares to 10 municipalities and 39 barangays. The rest was allocated for the delivery of basic services and the provision for the first time of the budgetary requirements of different marginalized sectors.” That paragraph was at the bottom of the litany of accomplishments, perhaps saved for last for lasting effect.
Or, placed so far from the initial accomplishments so that the studious reader could overlook that the P95 million spent for hospitals, medicines, construction materials and 20 kilometers of road were but a small percentage of the quarry take: only worth 95 days in Panlilio’s boasted average of P1 million daily quarry take. Which could lead to certain conclusions that there was but little that Panlilio did in his first year as governor.
“We availed P8.75M for assistance for rice and corn seeds and trainings on high value crops and organic farming.” The report continued.
A strict grammarian would find there a case not only of a lapse in grammar but of the crime of graft and corruption, a la Joc-joc Bolante’s fertilizer scam. Instead of the intended beneficiaries – farmers, presumably – it is “We,” meaning Panlilio and whoever his collegial body is, that “availed” (themselves, grammatically now) of P8.75 million.
In the absence of malice, what Panlilio meant there could have been “We made available to the agriculture sector…” Careful with words, Sir.
“We released P1.67M for 334 beneficiaries in micro-enterprise projects (ABE Program) and P1.5M for 490 students in summer jobs. And we conducted several job fairs to help our cabalens have jobs.” No arguments there except for ABE Program. What does the acronym stand for?
“Our Pamisaupan caravan went to 15 municipalities so far, bringing to far flung barangays the different services of the Capitol.” Good.
“We co-sponsored with non-governmental organizations like Kapampangan Development Foundation and Rotary Clubs services like provision of prosthesis, medical missions and harelip and cleft palette operations.”
Now that sentence made an accomplished idiot of the Governor and the organizations cited.
For want of something to accomplish, Panlilio, Rotary and the Kapampangan Development Foundation joined together in patching up broken boards for mixing paint colors! That is what a cleft palette is. Absolutely different and distinct in definition, in form, in spelling from a cleft palate. Such idiocy!
“Amidst all these accomplishments, we have navigated the course carefully and surely resulting in the slow implementation of infrastructure projects.”
Slow implementation goes against the grain of efficiency and effectiveness in governance. “Slow but certain in the integrity of the infra projects” would have made a whale of a difference, Sir.
“There are those of us who have been stuck in internal conflicts and squabbles. Others have channeled much of their energies questioning the prudence of why I keep certain staff in their present post. Please know that we your co-advocates at the capitol have decided to move on.”
More than the sangguniang panlalawigan, it was his inner circle that the Governor’s lamentation addressed. Hence, his take on the post-Lewinsky Clintonesque dismissal: “Now it is time, in fact it is past time, to move on.”
Perhaps it would have done the Governor better had he read a Yale psychologist’s use of the phrase: “You can’t move on. You can only move through.”
Or went direct, like one disgraced DC mayor to those who objected to his election comeback: “Get over it!”
“May I reiterate my commitment to do better in all humility and generosity in the coming months. Let us continue supporting this crusade that is bigger than me. May the Good Lord who has begun this crusade bring it to fruition and completion.”
So ended the letter of the Governor.
Unlike him who went through the full course, I was four years short of reaching even First Year Theology. But I see some serious theological concerns in that invocation of his to the Lord.
If it was indeed the Good Lord that “begun this crusade,” why then the “may” clause which, in the subjunctive mood, expresses a contingent or hypothetical action? A doubt, to be blunt about it.
Every work of the Lord finds consummation. If Panlilio’s crusade is the Lord’s, then it will come to fruition and completion. But if it is not, then that is another question. Of faith, this time.