Feelings

The cheating Heart

By Emmanuelle

Niccolo Machiavelli (1469-1527), statesman and historian, was the most important prose writer by the end of the fifteenth and the beginning of the sixteenth century, when the Italian Renaissance was at its height. Though he wrote poetry, comedies and historical works, he was best known for his political treatise The Prince wherein he maintained that a ruler is justified in adopting any means to attain his ends.

Centuries later, the word Machiavellian would be lumped together with the other modifiers to describe a person or a deed that is the exact opposite of honest as in dishonest (what else?), unethical, dishonorable, amoral or immoral, and – here goes another dreaded C word – corrupt. It also goes on to demote then to devalue such person or deed as devious, deceitful, fraudulent, untrustworthy, tricky, scheming, designing, wily, underhanded, conniving, sneaky, cunning, lying, falsehearted, insincere, crafty, sly.

Dya’d antikey ya salita – masaol. A cheating cheater of a cheat.

It’s the short cut – the easier, easiest way from being kulelat to tonguing belat to all. From here to there to everywhere, from this point to points high higher highest. From underling to darling, from underboard to passer but better if over-the-board topnotcher. From nothing to something to everything. From no one to someone to The One.

It is a habit; more, it is a disease. It is infectious; it transmits through the walls delineating social classes. It is epidemic to the race; with the migrant wave, soon to be pandemic.

Oh dear, but it’s so easy; to refuse is just plain crazy. The godly, goodly way is tooooo hard and it takes far tooooo long.

So, the kids learned young and early. They copied each others’ assignments; most often, Nanay or an older sibling researches, writes, solves or does the homework. The kids pass these off as their own work. The teacher blinks, hardly-believing, then blinks the bother away. Exam time, as soon watcher turns her back, look over a classmate’s shoulder, copy the answer, pass it around. Everybody passes the grade. In cases of an honor’s tie, untie with a donate.

The leak breaks out on the next level. A probable leak is someone who makes or prints or guards or distributes the test. Find the leak’s weakest link, pay the price, and it’s a deal. The barkada system thrives.

It’s usually no deal to the fixer who fixes the honors’ list. The favored few or the teacher’s favorite brings home the bacon, where bacon is the daily fare and to whom it’s just one more medal. To the unfavored many or the unlucky non-favorites – it’s just another uncaught star, it’s just another unfulfilled dream.

In college, the cheat perfects the talent, as a solo player or a team worker. The eyes and the ears are extra-sharper to hidden details; suddenly, one can see or hear from super-human distances. The body’s crevices become illicit reservoirs of knowledge, encrypted. Jackets, long-sleeves, prints, shoes and socks are in vogue during exams. Balled papers thrown by a disgusted one but quickly snatched by others from the floor – too natural or too scripted an act, who knows? How hard, how much to scratch off an incomplete or the thin line of a removal from fail to pass?

The graduate goes on to pass the regulatory board. What is regular and what is not? How long has the leak been leaking, and how long have the leakers been milking the leak’s flow?

Afterwards, the graduate enters the realm of real life – further regulated with more licensing and membership requirements, application and miscellaneous fees, actual as opposed to actually-paid incomes, monthly-to quarterly-to-annual accounting and auditing and revenues. Where there is opportunity, fortune calls.

Then there is politics, where one counts to miscount.

Honesty is such a lonely word.

(For past columns, click http://sundaypunch.prepys.com/archives/category/opinion/feelings/)

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