A futuristic fable for our times
Ding Wenceslao and I were elementary schoolmates at San Beda in the 1950s. After several decades, we somehow still recognized one another when we happened to sit side by side while watching an Ateneo basketball game. I told him that Bedans of E.S. 1956 and H.S. 1960 were having monthly get-togethers at the Villamor Clubhouse. He joined in, almost a decade ago, and has since been a regular fixture at our regular barkadahan, sometimes even hosting us at one of his buildings in Aseana, of which he’s been the primary developer.
One of his current projects is the construction of a church in that area, for which he commissioned one of our fellow Bedans, sculptor Ton Raymundo, to create a ten-foot statue of St. Pope John Paul II.
An internationally recognized construction and development executive, Delfin J. Wenceslao, Jr. also frequently seeks solutions to various problems confronting nation-building efforts.
As a former president of the Philippine Constructors Association (PCA) and chairman of the Junior Chamber International (JCI) Senate Advocacy Committee, he has written letters to government officials and private individuals — spelling out the problems and expressing his expectations for commendable solutions to the issues he has focused on.
Last year, Ding was selected as an MVP Bossing Awardee and also received the Management Excellence Award of BizNews Asia.
An action man who believes in walking the talk, he has organized Katipunan ng mga Mamamayan ng Bagong Katipunan Foundation Inc. (KMBKFI) in various communities, as a pro-people’s organization and as an outlet for his advocacies.
His latest effort has been to author a satirical novelette, employing a narrative that offers unique solutions to cited issues and concerns.
Following is the Introduction I wrote for the book, Isla de Sin Razon: A Fairy Tale:
“What D.J. Wenceslao, Jr. has gifted readers with this book is a unique amalgam of an instructive narrative.
“For its brevity, it combines a futuristic fable — inclusive of fantasy elements merging with expressed desiderata as well as whispered prayers — with an imagined report on a quasi-historical occurrence that most Filipinos will recognize as being all-too-familiar, and nighly possible as a refrain.
“That this second chapter involves a former colonizing power stands in stark contrast with the ironies chronologized in the first chapter, which confines our problems and possible solutions to our own independent making and resolve.
“The supreme irony is its setting in an isolated island where reason and rationality take a cold-blooded turn towards the larger attainment of a potential paradise.
“The interplay between past and future demonstrates what we need to accept as thinking, rational (and not rationalizing) Filipinos who can join in the discovery of the proper paradigms by which to transform ourselves and our country into an idealized if not better state.
“The lessons are here as a wish list of what can be done, if rendered tongue-in-cheek and with sly humor. The literati will have to invent a term for the distinctive genre presented here.
“It should match the inventiveness with which D.J. Wenceslao Jr. lays bare his personal frustrations over the current narrative and historical arcs that characterize and define our country. And yet he doesn’t leave it at that, nor even with creatively imagined options suggested and proposed.
“The author dares us to come up with our own richly imagined yet rational checklist by which to bless our islands with empowering reason.”
And here’s an excerpt from the first chapter:
“Of the more than 7,000 islands in the Philippines, the government chose an island south of Palawan, which was more or less representative of the rest of the country. On it, they built two villages, one each on the northern and southern ends. It took a 24-hour hike to reach one village from the other.
“The island was officially named Sin Razon, but was also popularly called Macho Island. It became particularly famous, or infamous.
“Every time there was a political dispute or a vendetta that could not be settled through reasonable and peaceful means, the protagonists were brought to opposite sides of the island and given the choice of weapons they could use. APC, M-16, M-72, etc. — you name it, the island had it.
“After choosing their weapons, the parties were directed to the cemetery so that each could choose their respective sites. The rules of the game were simple: telephone leadership was not allowed, so that the leaders must personally lead their men to battle.
“They were given 24 hours to liquidate each other. When the PA system announced the last ‘two minutes,’ it literally meant what it said. If the protagonists refused to fight, ‘Tora-Tora’ planes are called in. They are bombed to kingdom come, to make them taste what unarmed civilians felt when they are subjected to unnecessary violence and death, while bereft of the opportunity to fight back.
“Should there be any survivor, he would be required to write or dictate a chronology of events for history’s sake: how each man died. After this, his group was declared the pyrrhic winner.
“The winner was then led to his chosen place, there to be shot in the head by the referee — based on the survivor’s admission that he was willing to die for his cause. Under the motto ‘On the Island of Sin Razon,’ there are no winners, only losers, in the game of fratricide.
“Due to insistent public demand, the island’s games were opened to the public. No admission fee was charged, but the audience was required to buy their plots and make their last will before viewing the game. A year after Isla de Sin Razon went into operation, the level of political violence noticeably decreased.”
The book is being sold to selected friends, relatives, classmates, and other concerned citizens. The net proceeds from the book will be donated to the KMBPFI Ninong Program. A Ninong donates a one-month supply of rice to a Katipunero’s poor and hungry family. The Ninong will have the privilege of selecting the beneficiary through raffles of the Katipunan.
