Clowns to the Left of Me, Plunderers to the Right: Welcome to the UniTeam Flood-Control Circus

Sara’s “I’m Ready” Speech, Chel’s Group Hug, and the Administration’s Magical Disappearing President Trick

By Louis ‘Barok‘ C. Biraogo — December 1, 2025

WELCOME back to the cave, mga ka-kweba.
Grab a rock, light a torch, and behold the greatest show on earth — tragic, expensive, and paid for with money that was supposed to keep your children from drowning.

1. The Circus of Ambition

Vice President Sara Duterte, fresh from her own confidential-fund scandals and DepEd ghost-deliveries, steps onto the national stage and solemnly declares she is “ready” to assume the presidency because the country faces a “profound crisis of confidence” in Ferdinand Marcos Jr.

How touching. How constitutional. How exquisitely timed.

This is not civic preparedness.
This is political peacocking in borrowed robes of duty.
The moment the impeachment complaints and COA flags started circling her own neck, she discovered a sudden, burning concern for the Republic’s moral health — located, conveniently, inside Malacañang. Classic Duterte deflection: when the kitchen gets too hot, burn the entire house down and pose as the only firefighter in town.

***“Next episode: the exit is guarded by the same clowns who sold you the lifeboats—tickets non-refundable.”***

2. The Dance of the Defenders

A. Chel Diokno – The Velvet Revolutionary

The human-rights prince turned Akbayan congressman tiptoes forward and whispers the gentlest rebuke in Philippine history: Sara’s statement is “uncalled for.”
Uncalled for.
Children are drowning in floodwater paid for by stolen billions, and the worst thing that can happen, apparently, is that someone speaks out of turn.

Chel wants us all to take a deep breath, hold hands, and focus on “accountability” without “divisiveness.”
This is not 1983, Congressman. The mob outside is not asking for chamomile tea and group hugs. By wrapping righteous anger in parliamentary silk, Diokno risks becoming elevator music in the middle of a revolution.

B. Zia Alonto Adiong – Court Jester Extraordinaire

Assistant Majority Leader Adiong pirouettes onstage with a straight face and delivers this gem: it is “far-fetched” to link the President to P100 billion in insertions because Marcos “did not sit in the bicam” and even vetoed some items.

Bravo. Standing ovation. Someone mint this man a medal forged from pure delusion.

So the President can expose the scandal in the SONA, accept resignations, file cases, control the DOJ, the NBI, and the entire executive branch… but remains as innocent as the driven snow because he wasn’t physically in the conference room when his allies allegedly turned the budget into an ATM.
Next, Adiong will insist the fox cannot be blamed for the missing chickens — he only whispered the combination to the lock and collected the eggs later.

3. The Stench of Motivation (Let’s Say the Quiet Part Loud)

Sara: political survival + 2028 positioning + deflection from her own P125-million ghost money
Chel: principled, yes — but so cautious he risks irrelevance in a moment that demands fire
Adiong: reading the script every majority lapdog has memorized since 1898 — protect the king, secure the pork, pray the probe never climbs high enough to bite the hand that feeds

4. The Anatomy of a Betrayal

While these clowns rehearse their lines:

Metro Manila drowns again.
Marikina, Malabon, Valenzuela — same floodwaters, same excuses, same missing billions that were supposed to buy pumps, dikes, and warning systems.

That P100 billion could have built twenty Marikina Control Gate Structures.
Instead it bought private jets for congressmen’s mistresses, bulletproof SUVs for undersecretaries’ bodyguards, and beach resorts registered to drivers and nannies.

Every child swept away in Cainta, every mother wading waist-deep to save a refrigerator — that is blood on the hands of every official who signed, inserted, realigned, or looked away.

The powerful attend gala dinners in Tagaytay.
The powerless bury their dead in plastic coffins donated by the same politicians who will show up for the photo-op.

That, mga ka-kweba, is the true UniTeam legacy.

5. A Demanding Conclusion — No More Whispers

Enough circus. Here is what must happen, or we deserve the next flood:

Ombudsman: Stop dining on tilapia. File plunder cases against the whales — congressmen, contractors, cabinet secretaries — tomorrow.
Publish the entire 2025 GAA autopsy: every insertion, every realignment, every sponsor’s name in 72-point font on the front page of every newspaper.
Independent citizen auditors (no retired generals, no frat brothers) get full access to DPWH records, or we burn the procurement law and salt the earth.
Congress blocks real probes? The people will remember every single name when the water rises again.

Because here is the final, searing question, dear reader:

Are we truly expected to believe that the cure for a government that steals flood-control money is to hand the keys to the one politician who still cannot explain where her own confidential funds vanished?

Welcome to the circus, mga kababayan.
The clowns are in charge, the tent is on fire, and the exit is guarded by the same people who sold us the tickets.

Barok, out.
Drop the torch in the comments if you’ve had enough.