So Ordered

We spent the weekend over at Subic, and I had the chance to browse over some old files and clippings which I conveniently stowed under my bed. I reread Constantino Tejero's two-part article The Making of a Lawyer which ran over two Sundays back in July 1993, in the Sunday Inquirer Magazine.

A few interesting tidbits from the article:

1. In 1993, the tuition fee for ALS is around PhP 9K per semester. It is now closer to PhP 50k. UP's tuition fee barely moved, if at all.
2. ALS's performance in the bar was better than UP's in the early 90's. The topnotchers, however, usually come from UP. These are still true as of last year.
3. UP folks are "smug" as to their counterparts' apparent superior performance in the bar. They did not care then, we still do not care now.

I was happy that I kept that article after all these years, if only to convince myself that whatever it is I am trying to accomplish right now is not a mere passing fancy. Why I decided to do this right here, right now defies logic and basic utilitarian philosophy. It doesn't make sense, moreso if you consider the fact that I am earning more right now that what a new associate will earn five years hence.

Knowing that I made not a few illogical decisions in my life - and that most of them turned out to be right - somehow tempers this seeming ambivalence. It is what makes us human. It is what makes all this, fun.

You see, according to Cocteau's plan I'm the enemy, 'cause I like to think; I like to read. I'm into freedom of speech and freedom of choice. I'm the kind of guy likes to sit in a greasy spoon and wonder - "Gee, should I have the T-bone steak or the jumbo rack of barbecued ribs with the side order of gravy fries?" I WANT high cholesterol. I wanna eat bacon and butter and BUCKETS of cheese, okay? I want to smoke Cuban cigar the size of Cincinnati in the non-smoking section. I want to run through the streets naked with green jello all over my body reading playboy magazine. Why? Because I suddenly might feel the need to, okay, pal?

- Edgar Friendly, Demolition Man