As a trial-court judge, Florentino V. Floro Jr. acknowledged that he regularly sought the counsel of three elves only he could see. The Supreme Court deemed him unfit to serve and fired him last year.

Case closed? Not in the Philippines, where vampires are said to prey on unwary travelers and wealthy politicians consult fortune tellers and card readers. Mr. Floro, 54 years old, has become a media celebrity. He is now wielding his new clout to campaign for the return of his job -- and exact vengeance on the Supreme Court.

Helping him, he says, are his three invisible companions. "Angel" is the neutral force, he says. "Armand" is a benign influence. "Luis," whom Mr. Floro describes as the "king of kings," is an avenger.

Mr. Floro has become a regular on Philippine television. Often he is asked to make predictions with the help of his invisible friends. "They say your show will be taken off the air if you don't feature me more often," was Mr. Floro's reply to one interviewer.

 The day after Mr. Floro's first appearance on television last year, hundreds of people turned up at his house in a dusty Manila suburb hoping he could use his supernatural powers to heal their illnesses. Now Mr. Floro, who travels by bus, is regularly recognized on the street.

 The Supreme Court says its medical clinic determined that Mr. Floro was suffering from psychosis. Even so, a series of disturbing incidents appear to have the nation's top jurists rattled. According to local newspaper reports, a mysterious fire in January destroyed the Supreme Court's crest in its session hall, and a number of members of the court and their close family members have developed serious illnesses or have fallen victim to car accidents.

 
Enough bizarre things have happened that in July, the Supreme Court issued an en banc resolution asking Mr. Floro to desist in his threats of "ungodly reprisal." The Supreme Court's spokesman declined to elaborate.

 Mr. Floro says he is not suffering from psychosis, and that he's not to blame for the incidents. He points the finger squarely at "king of kings" elf Luis, who Mr. Floro says is bent on cleaning up what he says is the Philippines' corrupt legal system.

 
Mr. Floro says he never consulted the invisible elves over judicial decisions and the fact that he puts faith in them should make no difference to his career. "It shouldn't matter what I believe in, whether it's Jesus, Muhammad, or Luis, Armand and Angel," he says in an interview.

 The Philippines has a long history of mixing organized religion with a deep belief in the supernatural. During the 1950s and 1960s, when the Southeast Asian nation was already an independent republic, the Central Intelligence Agency stoked fears of vampires and ghouls to help its preferred candidates win elections.

 The elf, or "duwende," is one of a rich pantheon of supernatural beings that predate the Philippines' colonization by Spanish conquistadors in the 16th century. Many Filipinos make pilgrimages to Mount Banahaw, just south of Manila, which is reputedly the country's capital for elves and other beings.

 

READ THE CASE

 

• Read the Philippines Supreme Court decision dismissing Mr. Floro from the service. Url:

http://online.wsj.com/public/resources/documents/elf-floro-09172007.pdf

 

Jaime Licauco, who teaches parapsychology at San Beda College in Manila, testified on behalf of Mr. Floro in a 2001 hearing. He argued Mr. Floro is mentally fit and argues the former judge's beliefs aren't so unusual in the Philippine context.

Like many others in the Philippines, Mr. Floro says he himself is a Roman Catholic, and once studied to be a priest. He recalls that he wasn't convinced that serving the church was necessarily the best way to serve other Filipinos. He says he thought he could improve more people's lives if he became a lawyer, and he handily passed the bar exams.

 

Mr. Floro says he first realized he had the power to perceive Armand, Angel and Luis in 1986. In 1998, he applied to switch from being a lawyer to becoming a judge. He passed a mandatory psychiatric evaluation applied to all prospective judges and was sworn in as a regional trial-court judge in November of that year, handling both civil and criminal cases in Malabon, a district in greater Manila.

 

In 1999, Mr. Floro invited officials from the Supreme Court's administration unit to inspect his small courtroom. What they found unnerved them, and the Supreme Court convened a hearing to determine whether Mr. Floro should be removed from the bench.

 

According to Supreme Court papers, the court investigators presenting evidence at the hearing said they found Mr. Floro wearing blue robes instead of the normal black. Mr. Floro's own witnesses testified that he wore black on Fridays to "recharge his psychic powers."

 

The court investigators also reported that Mr. Floro began court proceedings with readings from the Book of Revelation and conducted hands-on psychic healing sessions for members of the public in his chambers during recesses. The investigators said Mr. Floro would sometimes enter a trance to write his rulings.

 

During the hearing, Mr. Floro revealed his contact with his elves. He also shared with the judges that Luis predicted that then-Philippine President Joseph Estrada would be ousted from office; Mr. Estrada was forced from power by a popular revolt two years later in 2001 and was sentenced last week to life in prison for corruption.

 

 

In March 2006, after lengthy delays, the Supreme Court finally dismissed Mr. Floro from the court service, largely because of his belief in the supernatural. Even though Mr. Floro says the elves played no part in his judicial decisions, the Supreme Court justices said his broad faith in mysticism and supernatural phenomena had affected his work. "Lest we be misconstrued, we do not denigrate such a belief system," Associate Justice Minita Chico-Nazario wrote in the Supreme Court's verdict. "However, such beliefs, especially since Judge Floro acted on them, are at odds with the critical and impartial thinking required of a judge under our judicial system."

 

Mr. Floro dissents. He has filed three appeals of the Supreme Court's decision since then and is continuing his campaign on local television and on the Internet. The Supreme Court hasn't reversed any of his decisions after suspending and later removing him from the bench.

 

JAMES HOOKWAY, james.hookway@awsj.com

"In the Philippines, Ex-Judge Consults Three Wee Friends Mr. Floro Loses His Job But Becomes a Celebrity; Using a Little Elfin Magic", September 17, 2007, THE WALL STREET JOURNAL, EDITORIAL AND CORPORATE HEADQUARTERS, 200 Liberty Street, New York, NY 10281, (212) 416-2000   Urls:

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB118999288641229392.html?mod=psp_free_today

 

http://online.wsj.com/public/resources/documents/elf-floro-09172007.pdf

http://online.wsj.com/public/article/SB118999288641229392-Kh8oBb4trD_IFGcOCcZsuCSTocI_20071016.html?mod=tff_main_tff_top

Mr. Floro Loses His Job, But Becomes a Celebrity; Using a Little Elfin Magic

As a trial-court judge, Florentino V. Floro Jr. acknowledged that he regularly sought the counsel of three elves only he could see. The Supreme Court deemed him unfit to serve and fired him last year.

Case closed? Not in the Philippines, where vampires are said to prey on unwary travelers and wealthy politicians consult fortune tellers and card readers. Mr. Floro, 54 years old, has become a media celebrity. He is now wielding his new clout to campaign for the return of his job -- and exact vengeance on the Supreme Court.

Helping him, he says, are his three invisible companions. "Angel" is the neutral force, he says. "Armand" is a benign influence. "Luis," whom Mr. Floro describes as the "king of kings," is an avenger.

Mr. Floro has become a regular on Philippine television. Often he is asked to make predictions with the help of his invisible friends. "They say your show will be taken off the air if you don't feature me more often," was Mr. Floro's reply to one interviewer.

The day after Mr. Floro's first appearance on television last year, hundreds of people turned up at his house in a dusty Manila suburb hoping he could use his supernatural powers to heal their illnesses. Now Mr. Floro, who travels by bus, is regularly recognized on the street.

The Supreme Court says its medical clinic determined that Mr. Floro was suffering from psychosis. Even so, a series of disturbing incidents appear to have the nation's top jurists rattled. According to local newspaper reports, a mysterious fire in January destroyed the Supreme Court's crest in its session hall, and a number of members of the court and their close family members have developed serious illnesses or have fallen victim to car accidents.

Enough bizarre things have happened that in July, the Supreme Court issued an en banc resolution asking Mr. Floro to desist in his threats of "ungodly reprisal." The Supreme Court's spokesman declined to elaborate.

Mr. Floro says he is not suffering from psychosis, and that he's not to blame for the incidents. He points the finger squarely at "king of kings" elf Luis, who Mr. Floro says is bent on cleaning up what he says is the Philippines' corrupt legal system.

Mr. Floro says he never consulted the invisible elves over judicial decisions and the fact that he puts faith in them should make no difference to his career. "It shouldn't matter what I believe in, whether it's Jesus, Muhammad, or Luis, Armand and Angel," he says in an interview.

The Philippines has a long history of mixing organized religion with a deep belief in the supernatural. During the 1950s and 1960s, when the Southeast Asian nation was already an independent republic, the Central Intelligence Agency stoked fears of vampires and ghouls to help its preferred candidates win elections.

The elf, or "duwende," is one of a rich pantheon of supernatural beings that predate the Philippines' colonization by Spanish conquistadors in the 16th century. Many Filipinos make pilgrimages to Mount Banahaw, just south of Manila, which is reputedly the country's capital for elves and other beings.

READ THE CASE

• Read the Philippines Supreme Court decision dismissing Mr. Floro from the service.Jaime Licauco, who teaches parapsychology at San Beda College in Manila, testified on behalf of Mr. Floro in a 2001 hearing. He argued Mr. Floro is mentally fit and argues the former judge's beliefs aren't so unusual in the Philippine context.

Like many others in the Philippines, Mr. Floro says he himself is a Roman Catholic, and once studied to be a priest. He recalls that he wasn't convinced that serving the church was necessarily the best way to serve other Filipinos. He says he thought he could improve more people's lives if he became a lawyer, and he handily passed the bar exams.

Mr. Floro says he first realized he had the power to perceive Armand, Angel and Luis in 1986. In 1998, he applied to switch from being a lawyer to becoming a judge. He passed a mandatory psychiatric evaluation applied to all prospective judges and was sworn in as a regional trial-court judge in November of that year, handling both civil and criminal cases in Malabon, a district in greater Manila.

In 1999, Mr. Floro invited officials from the Supreme Court's administration unit to inspect his small courtroom. What they found unnerved them, and the Supreme Court convened a hearing to determine whether Mr. Floro should be removed from the bench.

According to Supreme Court papers, the court investigators presenting evidence at the hearing said they found Mr. Floro wearing blue robes instead of the normal black. Mr. Floro's own witnesses testified that he wore black on Fridays to "recharge his psychic powers."

The court investigators also reported that Mr. Floro began court proceedings with readings from the Book of Revelation and conducted hands-on psychic healing sessions for members of the public in his chambers during recesses. The investigators said Mr. Floro would sometimes enter a trance to write his rulings.

During the hearing, Mr. Floro revealed his contact with his elves. He also shared with the judges that Luis predicted that then-Philippine President Joseph Estrada would be ousted from office; Mr. Estrada was forced from power by a popular revolt two years later in 2001 and was sentenced last week to life in prison for corruption.

In March 2006, after lengthy delays, the Supreme Court finally dismissed Mr. Floro from the court service, largely because of his belief in the supernatural. Even though Mr. Floro says the elves played no part in his judicial decisions, the Supreme Court justices said his broad faith in mysticism and supernatural phenomena had affected his work. "Lest we be misconstrued, we do not denigrate such a belief system," Associate Justice Minita Chico-Nazario wrote in the Supreme Court's verdict. "However, such beliefs, especially since Judge Floro acted on them, are at odds with the critical and impartial thinking required of a judge under our judicial system."

Mr. Floro dissents. He has filed three appeals of the Supreme Court's decision since then and is continuing his campaign on local television and on the Internet. The Supreme Court hasn't reversed any of his decisions after suspending and later removing him from the bench.

The Times December 05, 2006

A chilli-hot year for whiny garbage

David Pannick, QC

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/article/0,,200-2483034,00.html

David Pannick, QC, presides over the memorable legal appearances of 2006

In the Manhattan Supreme Court, Justice Jane Solomon told Liza Minnelli and her former husband David Gest to stop their “whiny garbage” of litigation. This year was notable for the quantity of whiny garbage to be found in courtrooms round the world. There was particularly hot competition in 2006 for the prize for judge of the year. The award for judge of the year goes to Judge Florentino V. Floro Jr, whom the Supreme Court of the Philippines sacked for regularly opening proceedings in his courtroom with the statement that he was “a Bar topnotcher” who passed the 1983 Bar examinations “with an average score of 87.55 per cent”; for changing from blue court robes to black each Friday “to recharge his psychic powers” as “the No 5 psychic in the country”; and for claiming to have the assistance of “three dwarf friends named Luis, Armand and Angel”, who, unseen by others, provided him with assistance in court.

Florentino and the three dwarves

Saturday, September 02, 2006

http://www.thestandard.com.hk/news_detail.asp?we_cat=11&art_id=26375&sid=9641493&con_type=3&d_str=20060902

A Filipino judge who was dismissed from the bench because of his ongoing relationship with invisible mystics meets with Sam Chambers to explain his side of the story.

The Philippine judiciary has oft been the butt of a joke but never before has one of its members caused so much mirth as Judge Floro Florentino and his three invisible dwarves.

Judge Florentino and the dwarves - Luis, Armand and Angel - might sound like a good name for a band but they are in fact the main characters in a surreal tale from a nation famous for its superstitions.

Last month, the trial judge lost his final appeal to keep his job, with the Supreme Court's 72-page ruling stating that Florentino's "dalliance" with Luis, Armand and Angel showed he had a "medically disabling condition of the mind" that rendered him "unfit to discharge the functions of his office" which in turn could "erode the public's esteem of the judiciary" and make it an "object of ridicule."

Florentino and I arrange to meet at what seems the most apt of places to discuss such matters - the Hobbit Bar on Mabene St in the Manila district of Malate. Charitably offering employment for the vertically challenged, it has been a tourist attraction for more than 10 years.

Florentino's three sidekicks, or "spiritual guides" as he prefers them to be called, take many different forms. Luis is the "king of kings" or "God's angel," while Armand is a beautiful boy who, like Luis, has wings. Angel is their sister. Florentino has on

ly seen Luis once - on a rock in the middle of the Philippine archipelago. Luis communicates and uses his powers via violet and white lights.

Florentino peers over the bar and orders a bottle of Australian shiraz but shows no sign of recognition - it seems that Luis, Armand and Angel are not among the diminutive presences to serve us. Moments later a pudgy hand holding a 2003 vintage appears out of nowhere; two glasses follow, as if by levitation, from beneath the bar.

Looking 10 years younger than his 53 years, Florentino comes across as remarkably lucid. For sure he rambles in a high-pitched tone, often going off on tangents, yet the psychosis the Supreme Court claims he has is not immediately apparent.

Fame, or infamy, clearly is something this otherwise shy man seems to enjoy. He comes to the interview armed with 300 pages of clippings and court appeals. He says, with no small relish, that he and his three cohorts have appeared in more than 66 media titles and 1,000 blogs.

One such blogger described Florentino as a Filipino X-Man for his efforts to rid the country's judiciary of corruption. In 1995 a Supreme Court commission found that more than 50 percent of judges received bribes, something Florentino has been determined to wipe out. His area of jurisdiction in Manila was Malabon, a coveted location in which to work, he says, because within a month a judge could become a millionaire, the starting price for any judicial decision being 50,000 pesos (HK$7,640).

"Court starts at 11am; at 11.05am (the judges) go for golf," he quips. He shows even less mercy in his judgment of the Court of Appeals: "They say it is 85 percent corrupt," he muses, "It is 100 percent corrupt."

Florentino initially trained to become a priest and was just a young teenager when he joined a seminary in 1965. He transferred to a Jesuit institution a few years later but then left to enter the legal profession. His life changed forever, he says, on June 2, 1983 - the day his father died. It was on that day that Luis, Armand and Angel made themselves known to Robert, Florentino's mentally disabled youngest brother.

"My brother, because of his innocence, can see them," he says. Floro Florentino recounts how the dwarves had revealed his healing and psychic powers. At first, he says he was sceptical. An avid gambler - horse racing coupons are mixed in with his press clippings - the dwarves told him to get involved in cockfighting. He bought 13 cockerels, made 21,000 pesos and "suddenly believed them."

Since then he claims to have healed many people, explaining that his hands are golden and impart heat to the afflicted. "I am not a faith healer," he says, "I am gifted."

Though at times in the conversation he bristles at the term psychic, Florentino rates himself as as the country's number five seer. Number one? Ferdinand Marcos, apparently.

Florentino says he predicted Joseph "Erap" Estrada's presidential downfall and prayed that present incumbent Gloria Macapagal Arroyo would survive her endless political battles. Looking ahead, he reckons Arroyo's power will end soon and the nation will suffer as a result.

He'll also have you believe he is a bilocator - someone who can be seen in two different places at the same time, which he acknowledges is also a trick for which the devil is known.

Florentino says such powers do not come without sacrifices and that he has had to remain single or lose his gift of healing: "That's in the Book of Revelations," he adds.

He glances over his shoulder at a child laughing nearby. "You know it's painful for me not to have a kid. That's why I am the Filipino martyr."

Florentino was appointed on November 5, 1998, as the country's youngest judge. It was not the first time he'd tried to become one. Three years earlier the state had failed him for psychological reasons but he was allowed an independent, private mental assessment that cleared him.

His reign as a judge was as bizarre as it was short. Sessions would start with readings from the Book of Revelations; on Fridays he would change from blue robes to black to recharge his powers, and in between hearings he'd provide healing sessions, even for other judges, as well as consulting his trio of "advisers."

Such unorthodoxy brought a swift end to his career and he was suspended in July 1999. So began his seven-year battle to be reinstated, with more than 100 motions tabled, finally ending with the Supreme Court decision. He was paid 1.1 million pesos in back pay, over half of which has already been used to pay debts.

He lists the names of senior judges who have in the past come to him for healing and says these are the same people who turned on him for political reasons, using his paranormal "gifts" as the excuse to get rid of him.

"This is a first in our judicial history - the Philippines Supreme Court has never dismissed or removed a judge because of their belief in the paranormal or religion. Other country's constitutions provide for dismissal or removal of judges, jurists and magistrates because of graft, corruption or misconduct," he insists.

However, Florentino admits to having a darker mission, avenging those who corrupt the legal system. This has led him to be dubbed an angel of death, a description he does not dispute.

At this point I am reminded of the fact that to be a dwarf in the Philippines, or duende as they are known, is not to possess the lovable qualities often attributed to them in fairytales. Rather they are regarded as figures full of malice and violent intent.

Eight judges who Florentino has deemed corrupt have all been struck with serious illnesses, three of them dying. He has, he confesses, been psychically "inflicting illnesses" upon his tormentors, even going so far as to ensure one of them gave birth to a child with epilepsy.

"Armand, Luis and Angel's role is a never-ending fight against `black' or evil; a spiritual battle - the angels versus Lucifer. Right now Satan is winning, God is losing. All our leaders have 666 on their heads from the president down, the Supreme Court, everywhere," he says in his mild, yet animated, manner. "My mission is healing the wounds of the judiciary."

His more immediate goal is to appeal the Supreme Court decision as early as next week. He intends to file a disbarment case against Chief Justice Hilario Davide Jr. for delaying his case for so long. "I am asking for a job. I am asking for justice," says the spiritual crusader.

Is this just a tall tale of short people? Or is that Luis reaching up to take my credit card? Filipino judges, you have been warned.

Creature features of the Philippines

http://www.thestandard.com.hk/news_detail.asp?we_cat=11&art_id=26377&sid=9682141&con_type=1&d_str=20060902

Saturday, September 02, 2006

Judge Floro Florentino is not too pleased with his three spiritual guides being referred to as dwarves or duende, as superstitious Filipinos call these elf-like beings. His brother, who first saw them, called them duende, a Spanish word of ambiguous definition.

To Filipinos, they are something like tiny magical goblins who live in forested areas. There are, according to folklore, two types: black, denoting evil which can harm, and red, who are good and can heal. On the island of Mindoro , the Mangyan tribe claim to trade with the few remaining duende for forest products. They are said to be extremely shy because of the violence that has been done to them in the past.

Then there are the nocturnal Agta, tall black men who also hang out in the forests, while the Batibat, found in Ilocos, look like fat women who live inside posts, and suffocate people by sitting on top of them.

The bovine-like Mantahungal have fearsome teeth, the Pugot are self-beheading multi-formed creatures, and the Tikbalang are centaurs in reverse. These and many more magical creatures - some invisible, some half-human, half- animal - are all said to inhabit the Philippine countryside.

Judges and Dwarfs Don't Mix

Justice William Bedsworth’s June 12, 2006 - wrote on Philippine Psychic Judge Floro's case: http://www.acriminalwasteofspace.com/journal_beds.asp

My hat's off to former-Judge Florentino Floro and his ... uh ... staff.

He's making this out to be a freedom of religion issue. He says, "They should not have dismissed me for what I believed." Certainly, I can sympathize with that position. The prospect of judges being removed because of their personal belief systems is anathema to all of us.