While I was writing my post on Pedro, I remembered something I composed back in December, when Pacquiao won against dela Hoya. It could have been the similar use of a fictional style — or all those Ps in the title.

But it’s probably the theme. For like lottery and religion, a lot of Filipinos have bet their hope — and pride — on Manny Pacquiao. In this case, however, I think it would be wiser to just bet money (compared to Lotto this is a much better investment). Yet with every match — the one with Hatton is less than two months away — Manny’s heroic status continues to grow — they even made him Filipino of the Year.

Just to be clear, I have nothing against Pacquiao (watching him reminds me of watching Ippo, which I equally enjoy). But I do have something against his proxies . . .

Reposted from my blog:

A great day for all Filipinos?

After winning his Dream Match against Oscar dela Hoya, Manny Pacquiao announced that he’ll share his 523 million peso prize with his countrymen. So if you’re Filipino, just visit the nearest Metrobank or BPI branch, present two valid IDs with your birth certificate, and claim your prize.

But wait! Before you leave, note that there are at least 88.6 million Filipinos, and that 523 million pesos divided by 88.6 million people is 5.90. This six pesos won’t even cover your commute. And there’s one more thing you should consider — You don’t deserve that money. Not six pesos, not even one.

But at least one Filipino thinks he does. Let’s call him Mr. Proxy.

Mr. Proxy thinks that because “Filipino” is written next to “Nationality” in his birth certificate, he has a right to share in Paquiao’s pride. After all, as Pambansang Kamao (National Fist), Manny’s hands are the hands of every Filipino, right? His every win and loss belongs to the Filipino people, right? But does Mr. Proxy deserve the pride he feels for the victory of his proxy?

Is Proxism Proper?

A student joins an art contest. His father, an architect, paints a portrait, submits it in his son’s name, and wins. Should the son accept the award and feel proud about it?

A father kills his neighbor. His son confesses and is prosecuted in his place. Should the father accept his son’s sacrifice and feel proud about it?

If you answered “yes” to any of these questions, I hope that instead of reading this you’re on your way to Metrobank with Mr. Proxy. If you didn’t, then congratulations.

Pride is Personal

If you are still reading this post, you know that every person wins and loses, lives and dies, and is rewarded and punished by the thoughts of their own mind and the actions of their own body.You decide right and wrong by your own moral compass, which apparently still works. That’s something you can be proud of (aside from not thinking twice about whether that first paragraph was true. Just so we’re clear — No, it’s not).

Because pride is reserved for those who use their talent and strength to achieve their values. That someone is born with a certain race is as trivial as being born with big nostrils.

But Mr. Proxy, who is probably harassing that poor Metrobank teller, is not unusual. Aside from using proxies in weddings and baptisms — an irrational practice in itself — he uses proxies in other situations unknowingly. What’s worse is he’s proud about it.

My Proxy is Better than Your Proxy

Pissing contests are common in the arena of acquaintances. Mr. Proxy and others like him take pride in who they know –

“My godfather is Mayor of Makati!” “Really? Well my uncle’s aunt is President of the Philippines!” “Hah! A friend in my extended network in Facebook has a friend in his extended network in Multiply who own’s Google!”

So you know someone who knows someone who knows a successful businesswoman. That woman worked just as hard in the office as Manny trained in the gym. What did you do, Mr. Proxy? Get a business card autographed? Take a picture with her? Friend her in Friendster?

Not Pride but Admiration

Manny Pacquiao is not great because he’s Filipino. He’s great because he trained hard, fought even harder, and became the best pound-for-pound fighter in the world. It was his body that was bruised, his bones that were broken, and his fists that almost knocked dela Hoya out.

Now, Proud Mr. Proxy. What did you bring to the table besides your chips and your cola? What did you do besides cheer and pray and watch?

Oh, sorry. I almost forgot. You were born Filipino. Not by choice, but by chance. Not by force but by fate. And that six pesos of pride you got not by power but by proxy.

Yes, it was a proud day. But only for Manny Pacquiao. Like Efren Bata Reyes and Paeng Nepomuceno, Jose Rizal and Andres Bonifacio, Paquiao is a great man — he just happened to be born Filipino. Filipino or not, what you should feel for these great men is admiration — not shared pride.

Pieces of Proxy

Mr. Proxy doesn’t use only people. He uses objects as proxies, too — a car for his manhood, a piece of parchment for his intelligence, a bible for his beliefs. But in every case, the question he fails to ask himself, the question we should always ask oursleves is this:

What did I do to deserve it?

Did I earn that prize, that pride, that value through my own personal power? Or did I use someone or something else as my proxy? To those who answered the latter, there is still hope. Metrobank is open till 3 PM.

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