He did it like a pastime. The greatest escape artist of all time could easily slip his flesh through the chains that hung around his body like a prisoner. It’s as if the limits of the limbs closely defy the limits of the imagination. Of course, skeptics would have their eyebrows raised in utter disbelief, struck perhaps by the seeming impossibility of the feat, gasping for a convincing explanation until the corks preventing their brains from popping off pop off eventually, littering the floor with their neurons in a bloody way. But that is another story.
To some, it’s magic unfolding before their eyes. To others, it’s trickery working in less magical ways.
If only the average Filipino could morph into a modern Houdini, an escape from the pangs wrought by the troubles of having to deal with life and to wrestle with the fangs of wretchedness would be a walk in the park. A Houdini among us would truly endow us with the capacity to twist our bodies if only to liberate ourselves from the bondage of a life torn in many parts by poverty. Indeed, a Houdini multiplied by ninety million would hell make this nation a nation of escape artists unshackled from their cages, dancing in triumph thereafter at least for a brief moment. But Houdini is dead, and so it seems for his escapism. Death is the only thing he would have a hard time escaping even with the cheers of an eager audience. That is equally true for all of us, as death is something that no magic or trickery can reverse.
With swelling rice and gas prices, the average Juan on the brink of death would have to die under cruel times, perhaps with eyes wide open in an attempt to catch a last glimpse of the promise of a better life. Abandoned by the promise of a decent life, it must be a lonely death. It’s a sad story, if not a mortifying one. It grips us with the stark reality of a deadly carnage hanging above our heads, butchering the hopes of our weakening fellowmen who walk among us with stooped heads burdened by the gravity of having to deal with tumultuous circumstances on a daily basis. Houdini is history, but the temptation to escape from all these miseries remains compelling enough to tease the senses and cross the mind.
There’s one more electrifying thought that will certainly rub more salt on wound. Electricity rates have continued to shock our purses for the past few years. Today, we’re hearing a crackdown on Meralco although the company is adamant at defending its side. Napocor says it’s the government royalties which have been inflating the prices, though it partly blames Meralco for its habit of purchasing electricity at the height of its prices. But any way we look at it, the truth is that power rates in this country remain bloated. That is one more reason for the average Juan to replicate a Houdini in more ways than one.
But that should not be the first option. To escape the madness of the times, at least for a brief stretch of time, is to momentarily suspend one’s capacity to do something about it. To have that real escape, the one which lasts for a lifetime if not for decades or so, one is required by the signs of the times to deal with the menace ever more fiercely. Instead of simply freeing from the clutches of the manacles and fleeing from it, one is required by the wretchedness in this life to destroy the things which hold us back from bondage. We should not simply quit. Or attempt to escape. Quitting from and escaping all these things may demand for artistry. Well, that’s if you’re Houdini. Unfortunately, you're not. We're all not.
The magic of it all is when we begin to realize that the chains holding us back are neither impossible to break nor impossible to truly break away from. The magic of it all is when we begin to appreciate the demand to seize the choice to do something, one that is perhaps boiling somewhere in the recesses of our spirits, or souls, or whatever we call that abstract part of ourselves. The magical part about it does not lie on rabbits being pulled out of hats. Neither does it lie on the part where we segment ourselves into two by the use of blades. It lies on segmenting those blades that dice our life.
We can always fall back on that option to replicate a Houdini, though that should not be a top priority. One can hardly escape the wrath of prices when there is little place to go. Any place you go, there are shackles that await us. They go by names of high taxes, swollen electricity rates and towering food and gas prices.
What to do? Well, we should lessen our consumption on almost everything else as much as we can. It's the closest remedy we can get, like a first aid treatment within arm's reach. But what if there's nothing left for us to lessen? What if even the efforts to consume in anorexic proportions still isn't enough to liberate us from the manacles? We're skins and bones and all, and yet we're still damned to pretty much shed more skin and bone and what have you. It's bulimia nervosa in poverty fashion. It's so bad it's ridiculous.
We're no longer imagining that part. We're seeing that today. And it's both magic and trickery unfolding before our eyes.
To some, it’s magic unfolding before their eyes. To others, it’s trickery working in less magical ways.
If only the average Filipino could morph into a modern Houdini, an escape from the pangs wrought by the troubles of having to deal with life and to wrestle with the fangs of wretchedness would be a walk in the park. A Houdini among us would truly endow us with the capacity to twist our bodies if only to liberate ourselves from the bondage of a life torn in many parts by poverty. Indeed, a Houdini multiplied by ninety million would hell make this nation a nation of escape artists unshackled from their cages, dancing in triumph thereafter at least for a brief moment. But Houdini is dead, and so it seems for his escapism. Death is the only thing he would have a hard time escaping even with the cheers of an eager audience. That is equally true for all of us, as death is something that no magic or trickery can reverse.
With swelling rice and gas prices, the average Juan on the brink of death would have to die under cruel times, perhaps with eyes wide open in an attempt to catch a last glimpse of the promise of a better life. Abandoned by the promise of a decent life, it must be a lonely death. It’s a sad story, if not a mortifying one. It grips us with the stark reality of a deadly carnage hanging above our heads, butchering the hopes of our weakening fellowmen who walk among us with stooped heads burdened by the gravity of having to deal with tumultuous circumstances on a daily basis. Houdini is history, but the temptation to escape from all these miseries remains compelling enough to tease the senses and cross the mind.
There’s one more electrifying thought that will certainly rub more salt on wound. Electricity rates have continued to shock our purses for the past few years. Today, we’re hearing a crackdown on Meralco although the company is adamant at defending its side. Napocor says it’s the government royalties which have been inflating the prices, though it partly blames Meralco for its habit of purchasing electricity at the height of its prices. But any way we look at it, the truth is that power rates in this country remain bloated. That is one more reason for the average Juan to replicate a Houdini in more ways than one.
But that should not be the first option. To escape the madness of the times, at least for a brief stretch of time, is to momentarily suspend one’s capacity to do something about it. To have that real escape, the one which lasts for a lifetime if not for decades or so, one is required by the signs of the times to deal with the menace ever more fiercely. Instead of simply freeing from the clutches of the manacles and fleeing from it, one is required by the wretchedness in this life to destroy the things which hold us back from bondage. We should not simply quit. Or attempt to escape. Quitting from and escaping all these things may demand for artistry. Well, that’s if you’re Houdini. Unfortunately, you're not. We're all not.
The magic of it all is when we begin to realize that the chains holding us back are neither impossible to break nor impossible to truly break away from. The magic of it all is when we begin to appreciate the demand to seize the choice to do something, one that is perhaps boiling somewhere in the recesses of our spirits, or souls, or whatever we call that abstract part of ourselves. The magical part about it does not lie on rabbits being pulled out of hats. Neither does it lie on the part where we segment ourselves into two by the use of blades. It lies on segmenting those blades that dice our life.
We can always fall back on that option to replicate a Houdini, though that should not be a top priority. One can hardly escape the wrath of prices when there is little place to go. Any place you go, there are shackles that await us. They go by names of high taxes, swollen electricity rates and towering food and gas prices.
What to do? Well, we should lessen our consumption on almost everything else as much as we can. It's the closest remedy we can get, like a first aid treatment within arm's reach. But what if there's nothing left for us to lessen? What if even the efforts to consume in anorexic proportions still isn't enough to liberate us from the manacles? We're skins and bones and all, and yet we're still damned to pretty much shed more skin and bone and what have you. It's bulimia nervosa in poverty fashion. It's so bad it's ridiculous.
We're no longer imagining that part. We're seeing that today. And it's both magic and trickery unfolding before our eyes.
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