The Road

I bravely watched Yam Laranas’ newest flick - I say bravely since I was by myself - and thoroughly enjoyed it. It’s not a simple ghost story. It’s a mixture of different terrifying concepts: ghosts, serial killers, and dark unfamiliar places.

The movie is divided into 3 arcs, set in different periods: 2008, 1998, and 1988. These 3 stories are intricately connected.

2008 is about the disappearance of 3 teenagers along an old, deserted stretch of road. This arc embodies the tag line of the film, that nobody leaves the road which is haunted by vengeful and tortured ghosts. 1998 tells the story of the ghosts which haunts the road. By this arc, viewers are introduced to the human antagonist (Luis) of the film (and, if you’re watching closely, clues as to the identity of the killer are also given out). 1988 tells the story of Luis and the history of the haunted road.

Everything about this film was just downright creepy - from the music to the cinematography. One of the things I liked was how Yam Laranas didn’t rely on much special effects to scare the viewers. Sometimes masterful make-up can be scarier than the most advanced CGI effects.

However, it’s been said in our time, every story has already been told a thousand times. This movie is no exception. The theme of the vengeful ghost is reminiscent of The Grudge, and the twist in this movie is similar to that in Wag Kang Lilingon. That said, while the themes are not original, Yam Laranas was able to tell this tale in a way that will still scare the wits out of the audience.

If Not Now, When?

Last night, I was lucky enough to watch Incubus (for the third time!) at the Araneta Coliseum with my good friends M and P. I'm still recovering from the thrill of seeing them again.

Quick thoughts:

1. I love watching rock concerts, because the people who go there are true fans. Last night was especially poignant - everyone was singing along to almost all of the songs! It felt like Rockeoke night (complete with drunken crazed fans).

2. I love Kylie and all, but Incubus proved that with great music, you don't need any flashy gimmicks to entertain. All you need is pure great music.

3. Bands constantly evolve, but I've noticed that great bands retain a certain quality, a je ne sais quoi that will always identify and set them apart. Incubus may have mellowed down recently, but the sound is still undeniably them. Oh, and lest anyone doubt their ability to rock, they can still dish out mad tunes like Sick Sad Little World and make everyone in the venue jump up and down and rock out like silly teenagers. Hell yeah.

4. Oh and yeah, I love Brandon Boyd. Love love LOVE him. That is all.

Crumb of Light

Yesterday my good friend J shared with me this poem from http://www.3quarksdaily.com/3quarksdaily/2011/07/monday-poems.html. It's a wonderful piece about the tenacity of hope.

Crumb of Light ~ Jim Culleny

Black holes are not completely black.
One physicist says they leak light
so even in deepest space
where nothing breathes
where you couldn’t be more alone
where stillness is not peace but ice
where distance between entities
makes the idea of neighborhood absurd
where utter is deepest and space is most profound
where moons can’t kiss and the closest thing to embrace
is to orbit which is not an encircling of arms
but a constant falling away,
where the inertia of origin commands
that all things separate, expand,
proceed apart day after day

—even from the black eye of a black hole
a crumb of light is tossed
and the chance of seeing you again
is not forever lost

Aphrodite

It's been a week since I watched Kylie Minogue's Aphrodite concert, and the Kylie fever that ensued after has only now subsided. To say that it was amazing is an understatement. To quote Q, it's like Varekai, with Kylie.

What she had: amazing (hot) dancers, trapeze artists, videos of (hot) models, a giant golden horse, a chariot, and back up dancers with such outrageous costumes that it looked as if Lady Gaga could be one of them. And of course, Kylie's fierce costumes. (Q informed me that the costumes were designed by Dolce and Gabbana. Fierce.)

And of course, there was Kylie, resplendent and glowing and beautiful and absolutely talented. To critics who maintain that she can't sing, you probably haven't heard her live. Her voice was surprisingly steady and strong, and she can belt it out with the rest of them. While some may have been disappointed that she only danced a couple of times (as far as I can remember, only twice), it should be noted that she's (a) not exactly as young as Beyonce, and (b) she's a cancer survivor. That she was able to perform for 2 straight hours, interrupted only by costume changes, is a feat in itself.

Aphrodite was a audio-visual extravaganza. Yes, ticket prices were a bit steep, but as T put it, lugi pa si Kylie samin.

Sweet Valley Confidential

I remember reading my first Sweet Valley book - I was in second grade, stuck at home with a flu and bored out of my wits. My friends were already reading the books, and when my mom asked me if I wanted anything, I asked her to get one for me. It was Jessica and the Jumbo Fish (from SV Kids), and from then on, I was hooked. I have fond memories of rushing to the bookstore every month to buy the new releases (Kids, Twins, High, SVU, and even the Unicorn Club), staying up late at night to read, and even of sneaking the books so I could read during classes. Great memories. But sometime during high school I lost interest. I moved on to Erich Segal, Sidney Sheldon, Neil Gaiman, and other more "serious" authors and never looked back.

That is, until my friend P gave me a copy of Sweet Valley Confidential. (Thanks for that again, dearie.)

It's trashy. It's high drama. It's not really written that well.

Still, I love it.

There's a comfort in returning to characters that you grew up with. It's like reuniting with childhood friends and hearing all their sordid stories. But what I liked the most is how the readers can still relate to the characters. It's amusing how we can get so emotionally caught up in what's happening to them, as if they were real people. Yes, some parts made me cry. Some parts made me so mad. And cliched as the ending may be, it made me happy. It's a throwback to old days when we didn't have to work, when school was the biggest worry, when there were no TV shows like Jersey Shore or Gossip Girl to captivate our imaginations.

It's escapism, pure and simple. And it's glorious.

Musings on OBL

(I will try to keep this post as non-legalistic as possible, and to abstain from delving too much into jurisprudence and legalese.)

My initial reaction to the news that Osama Bin Laden (“OBL”) died was joy. Who couldn’t help but feel happy that someone who embodied evil was finally gone? However, as the details of the circumstances surrounding his death surfaced, the lawyer in me started to doubt the legality of his, for lack of a better term, execution.

Of course, people would object. They would say that it is only right that he was killed. But the law is the law – it may not always be fair or just, but it is the law. This maxim is instilled in lawyers all over the world, and it’s a hard mindset to break free from.

My main issue concerns the disregard of Pakistan’s sovereignty. The sovereignty of a State within its own territory is not just a peremptory norm, but it is also enshrined in the United Nations Charter. Undeniably the operation that finally ended in OBL’s death was a state-sanctioned one which was performed in a foreign soil. Now there are standards under international law which govern the use of force in a foreign territory. There may be instances wherein this use of force may be sanctioned (i.e. defense of oneself and/or another State), but to condone the idea that a State may disregard another sovereign State’s sovereignty and claim that the latter consented to such action after the fact, as implied by the other’s actions, is just frightening. To use a rather crude analogy, this is tantamount to a bully saying that the bullied kid consented to the bullying since he allowed the bully to push him around, and the latter did not even say anything to his defense after the bullying.

Now, one argument for the legality of the action against OBL states that the United States was engaged in a non-international armed conflict with Al Qaeda. This would, however, mean that Common Article 3 of the Geneva Conventions would apply. (Indeed I am reminded of an instance, a few years back, wherein the Bush administration admitted that Common Article 3 applied to terrorists.) Under Common Article 3, the combatants are still entitled to certain rights, i.e. those not actively taking part in the hostilities shall be treated humanely. Corollary to this is that murder and summary executions are prohibited. And, incidentally, there are reports that OBL was not armed when he died.

It's just a shame that OBL wasn't just captured instead and brought to trial. True, there's a chance that OBL on trial may be seen as martyrdom on his part, but this is better than having his followers perceive him as an assassinated hero for their cause.

If I Do Not See You - Anna Akhmatova

I cannot get enough of Anna Akhmatova's poetry. For some reason, the poem below reminded me of Emmanuel Levinas. I beg your apologies for any errors or misconceptions about Levinas' philosophy (it's been at least 7 years since I read Levinas), but the imagery of the poem reminded me of how humans yearn for the Other - that One cannot Be without the Other. However, no matter how strong that desire for the Other, One cannot have him/her fully, on account of the radical difference of that Other.

In the poem below, the yearning for the Other led to nothing but pain and suffering. The humor lies in that, with or without the Other, the Speaker cannot Be.

If I Do Not See You

If I do not see you –
I feel: minutes, as centuries, are endless.
If I once had seen you –
Again suffers a heart’s wound, so merciless.
If I do not see you –
I am winded with frost and with darkness.
If I once had seen you –
Seared by something, with boiled pitch in likeness.

If I want to see you –
Angels’ hands will convey me to Heaven.
If I once had seen you –
To the tortures of Hell I am given.
And my peace is a loss:
Without you or with you – it’s in ruins:
I’m not got by the earth,
And repelled by the heavenly blueness.

Poem IX (Drunk as Drunk) - Pablo Neruda

With so much time now on my hands, I've reawakened my old addiction for poetry. I'm surprised that it took me this long to get to Señor Pablo Neruda, who is certainly one of the most romantic poets. I prefer the lyricism of the Spanish texts, but the English translations are just as lovely.

This one evokes the languid romance of a hot summer's day by the beach.

Poem IX

Ebrio de trementina y largos besos,
estival, el velero de las rosas dirijo,
torcido hacia la muerte del delgado día,
cimentado en el sólido frenesí marino.

Pálido y amarrado a mi agua devorante
cruzo en el agrio olor del clima descubierto,
aún vestido de gris y sonidos amargos,
y una cimera triste de abandonada espuma.

Voy, duro de pasiones, montado en mi ola única,
lunar, solar, ardiente y frío, repentino,
dormido en la garganta de las afortunadas
islas blancas y dulces como caderas frescas.

Tiembla en la noche húmeda mi vestido de besos
locamente cargado de eléctricas gestiones,
de modo heroico dividido en sueños
y embriagadoras rosas practicándose en mí.

Aguas arriba, en medio de las olas externas,
tu paralelo cuerpo se sujeta en mis brazos
como un pez infinitamente pegado a mi alma
rápido y lento en la energía subceleste.

(In English)
Drunk as drunk on turpentine
From your open kisses,
Your wet body wedged
Between my wet body and the strake
Of our boat that is made out of flowers,
Feasted, we guide it - our fingers
Like tallows adorned with yellow metal -
Over the sky's hot rim,
The day's last breath in our sails.

Pinned by the sun between solstice
And equinox, drowsy and tangled together
We drifted for months and woke
With the bitter taste of land on our lips,
Eyelids all sticky, and we longed for lime
And the sound of a rope
Lowering a bucket down its well. Then,
We came by night to the Fortunate Isles, And lay like fish
Under the net of our kisses.

Mad Girl's Love Song - Sylvia Plath

Poetry never ceases to amaze me - how a handful of lines can hold a whole world of emotions. The poem below is one such example.

Sylvia Plath is Queen of Pain. In the poem below, the pain of betrayal is juxtaposed with the speaker's anger in such palpable yet beautiful imagery. Indeed, love is bittersweet. I've always found myself able to relate to Ms. Plath's works, and this one is no exception.

Mad Girl's Love Song

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"

You Will Hear Thunder - Anna Akhmatova

After my stint in "Zombieland", I've been rediscovering my love for the written word - prose and poetry alike. The goal is to finish at least 20 novels for the year. I've already read 6.

My friend Q told me about the poem below by Russian poet Anna Akhmatova. He told me that it reminded him of me. What I like about the poem is the mixture of raw emotion and strength in the imagery.

Q, thank you for directing me to this treasure.

You Will Hear Thunder ~ Anna Akhmatova

You will hear thunder and remember me,

And think: she wanted storms. The rim

Of the sky will be the color of hard crimson,

And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire.

That day in Moscow, it will all come true,

when, for the last time, I take my leave,

And hasten to the heights that I have longed for,

Leaving my shadow still to be with you.

In Russian:

Услышишь гром и вспомнишь обо мне,
Подумаешь: она грозы желала…
Полоска неба будет твердо-алой,
А сердце будет как тогда - в огне.
Случится это в тот московский день,
Когда я город навсегда покину
И устремлюсь к желанному притину,
Свою меж вас еще оставив тень.

Inception

La vida es sueño.

The divide between dreams and reality has been a staple theme in fiction for centuries now, and it takes a very imaginative writer(/director) to be able to weave a fresh tale using this theme. Kudos to Christopher Nolan, for he never fails to amaze, entertain, and make you think.

Inception is certainly not a film for everyone. It’s certainly not for those who are seeking merely to be entertained. It is also not for those with short attention spans, for it is surprisingly fast-paced for something so complex.

The thesis is simple enough: ideas are the most dangerous things in the planet, for once they take hold of your mind, ideas stay there and consume you. Thus, the ability to be able to plant an idea into someone else’s mind, which is called inception, is a powerful tool – and this is what Leonardo DiCaprio’s character is attempting to do. How to do it: through dreams, by implanting the idea into the subject’s subconscious.

The rest is pure storytelling genius.

I will keep this as spoiler-free as possible, but suffice it to say that there are layers upon layers of stories in this film. From the very beginning, the audience is wondering where reality ends and the dreams begin. And indeed, this is a question that drives the film right until its last second.

The power to be able to engineer whole worlds, where we are gods, is quite tempting. To live entire lifetimes in a dream is a very nice thought. But to suddenly wake up, to be dragged away from that fantasy world, is most certainly painful. And some people choose to dream, while others believe that death is the only escape.

True, some themes are vaguely reminiscent of The Matrix films. However what was refreshing about this film was that it stayed relatively simple – no kilometric philosophical dialogues/monologues on the meaning of life and the allure of dreams, for the film is rich enough as it is. And there is also enough action to pique the interest of adrenaline-junkies.

Morning by Conchitina Cruz

This is a beautiful poem that was shared to me by my friend E. The author was E's professor back in college. For some reason, it reminds me of that line in Vicky Cristina Barcelona, that only unfulfilled love can be romantic.

Morning by Conchitina Cruz

You never know when somebody will walk away from you on a bright day on a busy street, never looking back and

you cannot believe the slow disappearance, cannot believe what is moving away from your reach until the busy street no longer needs its presence to look the same, because it is the same.

And the city offers you its fruits and fish, and the churchgoers lift their veils as they step out in the open

and you know the picture is incomplete but it can stand for itself

and who are you to ask for more, who are you to insist on hunger?

Bill O'Reilly: Theology makes Catholic Church what it is

Bill O'Reilly: Theology makes Catholic Church what it is

He may not be the most agreeable person in the world, and I certainly can't stand his political views, but I agree with his views on this matter 100%. Indeed, one cannot judge a whole institution based on a couple of miscreants. As the priest said in his homily yesterday afternoon, the Catholic Church is one of the few institutions that can pride itself for remaining true to the teachings of Christ. And for this reason, I will remain faithful to my church.

This is not to say that I condone the abuses committed by some members of the clergy. I believe that they should be prosecuted and, when convicted, be held accountable for their actions. But to condemn the entire Church, and to renounce one's faith, based on these individuals is both absurd and illogical. It would be tantamount to renouncing one's citizenship on the basis of the crimes committed by one's head of state.

The Power of Suggestion

Pearls of wisdom from my friend C, during our conversation on the idiocy of men (specifically 1 and 2):

C: lesson learned, when you find guys you like, don't call them idiots -- they tend to live up to their titles.

G: hahaha true true.

C: call them smart, gorgeous hunks 1 and 2. Use the power of suggestion!

G: duly noted. :)

C: so, kamusta na si SGH1? Smart gorgeous hunk 1?

G: um, wala akong ganun e.

C: well, mangarap ka na rin lang. The power of suggestion, remember? Haha.

Now I'm wondering, if I start calling them Piolo, Derek, and Echo, would the names become self-fulfilling prophecies? :)

Addendum: a few minutes later...

G: omg, we have a new intern in the office. It's a guy. And he's Chinese. :D

C: omg! Si SGH1 na yan!

G: Ang galing ng power of suggestion!

C: well, for sure S na siya kasi he's in a law firm. G is relative. So the H-ness is what you have to make sure of. Tapon ka ng ipis sa direction niya -- works every time hahaha!

Clash of the Titans

The original (1981) version of Clash of the Titans is one of those films that shaped my childhood, alongside Star Wars, The Godfather, Doctor Zhivago, Gone With the Wind, and Ben Hur. When I heard that a remake was going to be released, I was initially excited. However, after hearing the not-so-good reviews from friends who've seen it, I became apprehensive albeit still excited to see it.

Purists would undoubtedly dislike this film, for apart from the names of the characters and the general direction of the plot, the film undeniably deviated from the Perseus myth. I admit, this was disappointing - if the writers would change the essence of the story, why not just make a new one? Greek myths are rife with prophecies of fathers supplanting sons, jealous goddesses venting their wrath on poor mortals, and meddling Olympians, yet we see almost none of these themes in this remake. Indeed this film shouldn't even be called a remake, for it barely resembles the original film.

True, there were great visuals and effects, but this is hardly surprising in this day and age. This could not make up for the simplistic plot and weak dialogue. I went into the theater telling myself to not expect too much, given the bad reviews I've heard, but even with my lowered standards I couldn't help but feel cheated of my 200 bucks. Perhaps I should have waited for this film to be shown on HBO.

Clash of the Gods

Being a bit of a nerd, I was a little excited to watch this new series on The History Channel. The Clash of the Gods is a series which focused on the different gods and goddesses of old, outlining their myths - from their genesis until their eventual decline - and even providing possible factual bases for these stories.

The first episode focused on Zeus, from his rise to power after the defeat of his father, Cronus, until his fall from grace with the advent of Christianity. I enjoyed the bit where the Zeus myth was linked with the ancient disaster at Santorini. The theory is that the Zeus myth - particularly the story of his battle with Cronus - was borne out of this volcanic eruption.

One thing about this series though: it's not for children. When they discuss the myths, they discuss every aspect of it, including the incestuous and violent themes of the myths. Still, it's an entertaining show, and it made me want to burrow through my piles of books and look for battered copy of Mythology by Edith Hamilton.

1602 by Neil Gaiman

Omnia mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis. All things change, and we change with them.

Neil Gaiman was in the country a few weeks ago, and for the first time since he started coming here for signings and whatnots, I wasn't able to (stalk him) attend because I had to WORK. GAH.

Anyway, a couple of days before the event my friend C called me up and told me that she knew someone who could get Neil to sign a book for me. I chose 1602, since this is one of my favorite graphic novels outside the Sandman universe.

What I liked about this book was that one did not need to be thoroughly familiar with the whole Marvel universe to appreciate the story. Sure, a knowledge of the different heroes and villains would help especially since the reader is just thrust into the story without any introductory remarks about the characters, but it's not necessary. After all this is a retelling of the whole Marvel universe, set in Elizabethan England.

I'm also a fan of historical fiction, and to see the likes of Doctor Strange and Peter Parquah/Parker hobnobbing with Queen Elizabeth amused me to no end. And as with all great historical fiction, there is great drama in this work, complete with political intrigues, assassination plots, hostage takings, and even some jealous lovers to spice things up even more. And not to worry, none of the characters spoke in Shakespearean English, so they were all perfectly intelligible.

As with other stories with heroes and villains in it, the plot is simple and predictable: evil villain schemes to gain more power, the world is at the brink of destruction, and the heroes band together to save the day. However this is where the genius that is Neil Gaiman comes in, as he weaves together a complex yet entertaining story that just draws the reader in, compelling him to continue reading until the end is reached.

The themes underlying the book are also far from simple, and while the story is set in the 17th century, the message is undeniably timely. We live in a continually changing world where we are all forced to change and adapt in order to survive. And true, the world is growing darker and scarier, but we as a race have always shown that it is in the darkest times that we become even greater by reaching out to others. Indeed, there is no challenge that we cannot overcome, so long as we work together. And it is truly in the darkest hours of history that people - not necessarily superheroes - emerge to give us hope and show us that not everything is lost.

Carlos Javier (Charles Xavier) was right: from those who have much to give, much is demanded.

The Intimate Adventures of a London Call Girl by Belle Du Jour

I first heard about Belle Du Jour last year, when I was perusing books with my then Cebu-based friend P in Powerbooks (Cebu). But they only had her other titles, and being the OC-reader that I am, I wanted to read her first book before reading the other titles. I was finally able to get a copy of The Intimate Adventures of a London Call Girl during my last bum date with M, but was only able to finish reading it this morning. I blame work.

I found her chronicles interesting and entertaining, although there are some banal moments for which we can't really blame her. Not everyone's life is like a soap opera where drama is a constant factor. Still, apart from those momentary musings on the weather, the work as a whole was entertaining. And given that this is a true account of her life (or at least of a year in her life), she managed to maintain a climactic suspense which led to a satisfying albeit expected closure.

The advantage of anonymity is the freedom to talk about anything and everything. Belle was surprisingly and refreshingly open about both her professional and personal life - sometimes at the point of sharing too much information already. But then again it IS her diary, and if diarists don't have the license to ramble about anything they want, then who does?

One thing amusing about her diary is her penchant for lists, which is reminiscent of Bridget Jones. Only some of her lists are not exactly for those with a prudish disposition. Still, these are quite informative. ;) But this isn't to say that there are no profound insights in her chronicles. On the contrary, Belle is quite the reader of people (which is probably an asset for working girls).

All in all, her chronicles are an enjoyable and entertaining read.

Alice in Wonderland

Mad Hatter: Have I gone mad?
Alice: I'm afraid so. You're entirely bonkers. But I'll tell you a secret - all the best people are.

I have to say that I'm not a big fan of 3D movies. Yes, the graphics are amazing, but after 30 minutes or so my eyes begin to strain and the glasses become just bothersome.

Still, I endured, all for the love of Johnny Depp.

But no, I will not blog about how entertaining Mr. Depp is when he's acting crazy. I will not blog about how gorgeous he is (especially since he looks like a deranged clown in this film).

Enough about Johnny Depp.

To say that this is a film for children is a gross oversimplification. There's a murderous and sadistic Red Queen, a Mad Hatter who's obviously suffering from post-traumatic stress syndrome, in addition to the very creepy host of talking animals. Indeed even the themes in this movie are surprisingly adult. It's interesting that Alice once again finds herself falling into Wonderland at a pivotal time in her life - when she's at the crossroads between adolescence and adulthood. At this point I find myself commiserating with poor Alice - when faced with a choice between marriage to a blubbering wimp and insanity, I'd gladly choose the latter too.

But then, by the end of the film, we are reminded that no matter how easy it would be to escape and shirk from the world of adulthood, it simply can't be done. It may be easier to slay monsters than face an entire crowd of people that's expecting you to do something you don't want to, but one must simply forge ahead and do what's right anyway. It's that simple - or so it seems.

For this reason, this film reminded me of Peter Pan. But unlike that story, Alice chose to grow up. At the risk of sounding like a rabid feminist, I'd just like to add that even works of fiction reflect the undeniable fact that girls mature faster than boys. Yay for Alice.

De Castro vs. JBC

9 concurred, 2 said that it was premature, 3 abstained, and 1 dissented - Justice Conchita Carpio-Morales.

Makes me damn proud to be a woman.

Excerpts from the dissenting opinion of the Honorable Justice:

"xxx

That the power of judicial appointment was lodged in the President is a recognized measure of limitation on the power of the judiciary, which measure, however, is counterbalanced by the election ban due to the need to insulate the judiciary from the political climate of presidential elections. To abandon this interplay of checks and balances on the mere inference that the establishment of the JBC could de-politicize the process of judicial appointments lacks constitutional mooring.

xxx

The second ratiocination in the ponencia could thus not remove an added constitutional safeguard by pretending to have examined and concluded that the establishment of the JBC had eliminated all encompassing forms of political maneuverings during elections. Otherwise, reading into the Constitution such conclusion so crucial to the scheme of checks and balances, which is neither written nor tackled, undermines the noticeable silence or restraint exercised by the framers themselves from making a definitive analysis.

To illustrate, the instance given in the fifth ratiocination that having the new President appoint the next Chief Justice cannot ensure judicial independence because the appointee can also become beholden to the appointing authority bears an inconsistent stance. It does not admit or recognize that the mechanism of removal by impeachment eliminates the evils of political indebtedness. In any event, that level of reasoning overlooks the risk of compromising judicial independence when the outgoing President faces the Court in the charges that may be subsequently filed against her/him, and when the appointing President is up for re-election in the peculiar situation contemplated by Section 4, Article VII of the Constitution.

xxx"