Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Yap: Triumph of symbols
By Januar E. Yap
Meanwhile
ADVERTISING, said Salman Rushdie in his novel Fury, used to be “a confidence trick, a cheat, the notorious enemy of promise.” It used to be a horrible idea in the old era, he wrote. It was nakedly capitalist, and selling things was low.
Well, the idea crumbled with the dinosaurs’ feeble femur. Now, Rushdie adds, “everyone—eminent writers, great painters, architects, politicians—wanted to be in the act.”
Count Rushdie, of course, in the league. He and Joseph Heller of the famous Catch 22, wrote copy for David Ogilvy.
It seems to be a natural course, a kind of osmosis of the creative-unbridled, combustible energies seeking new avenues. It’s the age of multitasking and plurality. “Do you think the storm would be as powerful if it traveled in a straight line?” I asked my class once. No, physics can explain it better, but it is its circular motion that makes it stronger. It is, perhaps, how it gathers up energy. And this is true with language. You need some kind of locution to make it powerful, say, a metaphor. Saying “you’re ugly” won’t be as colorful as when you say “your face looks like a piece of cake left in the rain.”
And how do politicians get into the act? Simple, three things to whip up a publicity stunt: the old, children and photographers. Don’t get caught with a newspaper you hate tucked snugly in your arm. “What kills a skunk is the publicity it gives itself,” said Abraham Lincoln. The times operate on symbols.
Recently, what do we read: 55 farmers from Sumilao, Bukidnon make the 1,700-kilometer journey for two months, all the way to Malacañang. That’s not all. Marching alongside are priests, nuns and seminarians. They are disputing the sale of the land they have tilled for so long and its eventual conversion by the SMFI. If that doesn’t conflagrate with impressions of moral ascendancy, I don’t know what else.
And rightly so. When the long march inched closer to the Palace, sources said the President was all dolled up to see the CBCP for some dialogue. When the farmers were saying mass in San Beda University chapel, Ignacio Bunye and Cerge Remonde had to fetch them and bring them to Malacañang. The police met them not with truncheons but with flowers. What could be gayer than that?
When they reached the palace, they were ushered into some posh and decent negotiating table with ornate carvings, and the President gave them a hug.
What do all these mean? An overwhelming symbol, demonstrated by the farmers, comes and everyone prostrates. That’s how you beat them, play along symbols. If you have them, the medium follows.
This is where the Sumilao farmers succeeded and other farmers groups with the same cause failed. This is where most activists failed. This is where Trillanes failed. Literal mileage comes before media mileage. But, seriously.
Demonstrate your point with the savvy of a creative director. Stage a stunt, outwit the highly-paid spinmeisters of the powerful, and you’re in the game.
The Sumilao farmers simply cooked up something that was headline material.
For Bisaya stories from Cebu. Click here. (December 19, 2007 issue)
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