The impeachment trial— a time waster?

A friend of mine who has attended a couple of times the ongoing impeachment trial of the Chief Justice says it is “such a time waster”.   I wouldn’t know.  Not having had the good fortune to be there myself for a ringside view of the proceedings, I’d grab every chance to catch it on the radio as I drove between appointments.

There is so much to learn from it, I discovered, that now, whenever I can, I watch the replay while multi-tasking—doing the dishes, mopping the floor, giving myself a pedicure, tidying up closets—doing just about anything including more cerebral work like editing.  Instead of boring me, trying my patience, or distracting me from what I’m doing, watching the impeachment trial strangely satisfies me—because it’s a new experience in the pursuit of truth, a great way to learn about due process, court procedures, laws, and lawmakers!  It is so educational and entertaining that I look forward to it, perhaps in the same way a child anticipates an afternoon at the circus.

Call my sense of humor “warped” but I honestly think—and state with all due respect—that the impeachment trial has many of the elements of a spectacular circus. 

Let’s start with the clown—the darling of every child.  I confess that what spurred me to watch the trial on television was a text message from a priest which said: “The real mystery in the impeachment trial is, Who is the hairdresser of Cuevas?  Even Lady Gaga is asking, ha ha!”  Having come from an 82-year old priest who had never before forwarded a text-joke to me, the message naturally nudged my curiosity.  And when I finally laid eyes on the screen image of the Honorable Justice in a light-colored business suit, my imagination went wild.  The famous hairdo bore a breathtaking resemblance to that of a clown I’d photographed at a children’s party long ago.  Indeed, all he needs to add to complete the likeness is a red button nose and lips painted like Anne Curtis’.

Thus began my “discoveries”.  Truly, a book must never be judged by its cover.  As the trial unfolded the clown turned out to be a major circus star—the trapeze artist!  Sure of his step, perfect timing and astute moves, he defies age and dares perform sans the benefit of a safety net.  Wow!  In a huddle, one “pintasera” colleague, a nitpicker assessing the trial, surprisingly gushed forth, “Nakaka-in love si Cuevas!  Never thought someone so old could be so sharp!  Ang galing-galing niya, who cares about his hairdo!”

The clown could be bald for all I care, but for me—a child at heart—a circus wouldn’t be complete without a magician.  Magic tricks so enthrall me that even though I have cracked a few of them I haven’t given up guessing how the others are done.  Rabbits materializing from empty hats, scarves and coins being pulled out of someone’s ears, a deck of cards disappearing and reappearing in the magician’s hand—all these never fail to entrance me.  So, when classified bank documents materialized out of thin air at a congressman’s driveway, or reached the trial court through a mysterious female dwarf—another circus prop, by the way—I couldn’t help but gasp in awe, OMG, I just looove magicians!  And they amuse me even more when their gags backfire on them, exposing them as the real clowns!

Besides clowns and magicians, what makes the circus such a fascinating experience for me are the big cats—the tigers and the lions.  Seeing these carnivores behave in a manner unnatural to them—such as keeping still on minuscule stools or rolling over like puppies on command, jumping through flaming hoops, and doing other acts in the name of showbiz—convinces me that these beasts do possess an intelligence superior to that of some humans who sometimes behave like beasts.  It behooves me then to question: what is it about an impeachment trial that turns some Honorable Gentlemen into big cats—snarling, growling, and baring their fangs as though going for the kill?

Wherever that feline ferocity is directed, I commiserate with the witnesses who under examination have no choice but to cooperate.  They must be the acrobats and tightrope walkers in the circus, compelled to perform without prior training.

If big cats and acrobats are there to create suspenseful moments in a circus, audience-friendly animals are also employed to relax spectators.  Other Honorables basking in their two minutes of glory in the proceedings strike me as such: chimpanzees that provide laughs (with their clever lines); nimble seals that impress us (with their legal bravado); well-trained dogs that amuse us with human-like skills such as riding bicycles and assisting jugglers.  Incidentally, the canine squad includes pretty poodles dressed like princesses—because they’re bitches, not alpha males—and prancing about on their hind legs.

Can you at this point already put the faces on the members of this entertaining band?  Then your sense of humor is just as warped as mine—vive le cirque!

In the movie “Water for Elephants”, the star in the circus ring is a well-coiffeured lady who alone can gambol with the elephant.  Cross this lady with Shakespeare’s “weird sisters” who foretell Macbeth’s fate and you get a surefire circus attraction: Bearded Lady.  At the impeachment trial court Bearded Lady alone has the temerity to singlehandedly take on a virtual elephant—the collective weight of the honorable bigwigs in the hall.  Was it androgen excess or hypertension that once caused Bearded Lady to hyperventilate on account of “the fake documents that waste the time of the trial court”?  Whatever, Bearded Lady gave the elephant a tongue lashing then, and that David-vs-Goliath act drew chuckles and applause from circus-loving tv audiences and netizens.

Then we have the Circus Master—the man who sees to it that order in the show is kept.  But here he is the antithesis of a showy circus master—he is unassuming, performs without fanfare, and is just there to do his job.  In fact, with his mastery of the situation he prevents the circus from being reduced to a laughable enterprise.  Doubling up as Animal Trainer, he unwittingly entertains us when he cracks his whip to make sure the big cats behave and to put the monkeys and the dogs in their place.  Decades of hard life in circuses past must have given him the poise to preside over this supposedly august menagerie.  His mental agility and keen judgment is a living tribute to the glory of senior citizenship.

So—is the impeachment trial a “time waster”?  It need not be for me.  If I can actually be there at the court, I hope nobody minds if sit in a corner and crochet doilies.  Or maybe work with my laptop.  But if Security confiscates my crochet hook (deadly weapon!) or my laptop (bomb trigger!), I’m absolutely sure I’ll enjoy it just the same, because… circuses are more fun in the Philippines!  And that’s the truth.