Published March 20, 2020, 12:00 AM

by manilabulletin_admin



Jullie Y. Daza
Jullie Y. Daza

Under house arrest we’re all POV, prisoners of virus. Forced to good; quieter, keeping still, staying safe. So many of us joined the world in praying the holy rosary on Thursday night, feast of St. Joseph, an event viewed locally by more than 155,000 – a probable 7.5 million Hail Marys – on the Manila Cathedral’s Facebook page. (That’s nearly thrice the number of views of the Sunday mass last week.)

Pray and spray.

According to a smart-aleck caught drinking outside his house, alcohol is the antidote to the coronavirus. Cheers, mate! Tough guys loudly congregating on the sidewalk have been seen being led away – meekly – by arresting cops.

In vino veritas. Real men shouldn’t ask to be dragged away like pussycats.

It’s been one long week since the community quarantine was imposed, but have you heard of any arrests for breaking the 8 p.m.-5 a.m. curfew? Amazing that the police have not been counting. In the bad old days of martial law, it was quite a thrill to dodge the midnight-to-dawn curfew or to hear of a friend or celebrity being jailed for the offense. And how they cracked jokes that the humorless police did not find funny at all.

The youngest family member’s explanation: Maybe today’s cops don’t think it worth their trouble, especially if there are too many offenders to throw in jail, where they would infect and possibly kill the resident jailbirds.

With no social distancing in our jails, what kind of social justice may we expect in the time of coronavirus and later?

Why’s it so hard to preach the need for social distancing? In a metropolis of 14 million trying to make ends meet, staying one meter apart from one another is as unnatural as owning your swimming pool for one, or a golf course exclusively for you and your caddy only.

Mayor Vico Sotto has been earning his spurs. The guy is no neophyte if he can invent solutions like mobile kitchens, using three newly acquired drones to disinfect Pasig, allowing tricycles to ferry health workers. Spray and pray.

From community quarantine we are down (or up) to extreme enhanced community quarantine. Who’s afraid of calling it a lockdown? If not a lockdown, what next, should the situation worsen? Pray and pray.