Hydro-Politics

In a world where traditional diplomacy is far too "dry," Senator Robin Padilla has finally offered a solution that holds water—literally. 

Forget the Hague; we’re going to the Hardware Store.

Welcome to the era of Hydro-Politics, where the South China Sea is no longer a flashpoint, but a giant inflatable pool.

The Rules of Engagement: "The Splashback Doctrine"

According to the latest "action-star-turned-senatorial" strategy, the Philippine Coast Guard shouldn't just stand there getting soaked. 

If China brings a Super Soaker, we bring a garden hose. If they bring a pressure washer, we call the local fire department.

The Tactical Advantages:

• Cost-Effective: Why spend billions on frigates when a 50-foot coiled hose from Ace Hardware costs 800 pesos?

• Eco-Friendly: We aren't launching lead; we’re just aggressively re-distributing the ocean. It's basically high-pressure recycling.

• The "Ligo" Factor: It’s hard to look like an intimidating superpower when your sailors are busy trying to keep their mascara from running.

The Great Naval Equipment Upgrade

To implement the Senator’s vision, the Department of Budget and Management is reportedly considering a new procurement list for our "civilian" coast guard:

Traditional Military Asset	The "Padilla" Alternative
Surface-to-Air Missile	High-Velocity Water Balloon Launcher
Stealth Destroyer	A very fast Jet Ski with a "No Trespassing" sign
Sonar Technology	Underwater speakers playing Wonderful Tonight at max volume
Bulletproof Vests	Neon yellow raincoats and those little umbrellas you put in cocktails

Potential Escalations: From Mist to Missiles

The Senator’s plan assumes the PLA (People's Liberation Army) will play by "San Juan Fiesta" rules. 

But what happens when the "Water War" turns into a "Laundry List" of disasters?

1. Phase 1: China splashes us.

2. Phase 2: We splash back and yell, "Uy, foul!"

3. Phase 3: China brings out a literal dam.

4. Phase 4: The Philippines files a diplomatic protest via a message in a bottle, which is promptly washed back to shore by a water cannon.

"It’s the ultimate deterrent," a fictional strategist noted. "China can’t claim we’re militarizing the sea if we’re technically just giving their ships a free car wash."

The Environmental Impact (A Whale's Perspective)

Local dolphins are reportedly terrified. 

"I used to worry about plastic straws," said one local tuna (translated from bubbles). 

"Now I have to worry about Senator Robin turning my living room into a pressurized bidet. I didn't sign up for a 24/7 spa day."

Final Assessment: High Tide or Low IQ?

While the Senator’s plan to turn the West Philippine Sea into a giant Palarong Pambansa is certainly creative, critics suggest that perhaps we shouldn't bring a squirt gun to a drone fight.

After all, when the Chinese military decides to stop playing "Water Tag" and starts playing "Battleship" for real, our Coast Guard might find that "delicadeza" and a raincoat aren't quite enough to stop a destroyer.

The Hague's Got Talent

 

Welcome back to the season finale of The Hague is Thicker than Water, where the courtroom of the International Criminal Court (ICC) has been transformed into a high-stakes comedy club. Our headliner? Rodrigo "The Punisher" Duterte, who is currently proving that you don't actually need to show up to your own trial to steal the show.

1. The "Invisible Man" Defense

In a stunning display of what Senator Robin Padilla might call "extreme delicadeza," the former President decided to skip the confirmation of charges hearing that began on February 23, 2026.

• The Reason: He claims he is "old, tired, and frail."

• The Twist: This is the same man who once said he’d be "happy to slaughter" millions of addicts and personally "did it" in Davao just to show the boys how it’s done.

• The Diagnosis: His lawyers cited "cognitive impairment," but the ICC judges—evidently not fans of the "I forgot I was a President" defense—ruled him fit to stand trial. It turns out, "selective memory" isn't a recognized legal strategy in the Netherlands.

2. Julian Nicholls: The DJ of Justice

Senior Trial Lawyer Julian Nicholls took the stage not with a gavel, but with a "Greatest Hits" playlist. He spent the opening days spinning tracks from the "Davao Model"—a system Nicholls described as "cracking down on crime by committing the crime of murder."

The Prosecution's Playlist:

• Track 1: "I'll Order Your Execution within 24 Hours" (Remix)

• Track 2: "The King of the World" (Acoustic Unplugged)

• Track 3: "No Apologies, No Excuses" (The B-Side)

As Nicholls played clips of Duterte smirking and bragging about his handiwork, the courtroom felt less like a solemn tribunal and more like a Netflix documentary titled How to Get Renditioned to The Hague and Still Keep Your Fanbase.

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3. The Supporting Cast: The "Co-Perpetrator" Ensemble

Nicholls didn't just stop at the leading man. He dropped the names of the "supporting actors" who allegedly helped build the Davao Death Squad franchise. It’s like a political reunion special nobody wanted:

Role	Name	Current Status
The Enforcer	Bato dela Rosa	Claiming it was all "Party Discipline"
The Sidekick	Bong Go	Busy trying to find the "Exit" sign
The Legal Eagle	Vitaliano Aguirre II	Checking if "selective amnesia" is contagious

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4. The Audacity Award: "Kidnapped and Renditioned"

Duterte’s latest review of his stay in The Hague? He calls it a "kidnapping." Apparently, being arrested by your own government and flown on a private jet to the Netherlands is "flagrant contravention" of his right to stay home and watch Netflix.

He told his supporters, "I am OK, do not worry," while essentially doubling down on his "I’m the one" persona. It’s the ultimate "Cookie Jar" strategy:

1. Get caught.

2. Admit you ate the cookies.

3. Complain that the jar was biased against you.

4. Ask for milk.

Final Verdict: A Tragedy in a Clown Suit

As the hearings conclude this week, the world watches a man who has replaced remorse with "bluster and hyperbole." If the charges are confirmed within the next 60 days, we might see the first Asian former head of state go on full trial.

Duterte seems to believe that as long as you’re charmingly dangerous, the law is just a suggestion—like a speed limit or a "Do Not Enter" sign in the West Philippine Sea.

Duterte's Unfaced Bravado

In the latest episode of the soap opera “As the World Turns,” we find ourselves in the courtroom of the International Criminal Court (ICC), where senior trial lawyer Julian Nicholls is making a case against former Philippine President Rodrigo Duterte.

With all the drama of a telenovela and the absurdity of a slapstick comedy, Nicholls has taken center stage to assert that Duterte never showed an ounce of remorse for the alleged “thousands” of Filipinos who met untimely ends during his infamous war on drugs.

Now, if you’ve ever watched a stand-up comedian bomb on stage, you might have an inkling of what it’s like to witness Duterte’s nonchalant attitude toward the charges against him.

Nicholls presented video clips that could only be described as a highlight reel of Duterte’s greatest hits—think “Duterte Unplugged,” where he casually brags about his actions like a kid boasting about how many cookies he stole from the jar.

“Oh, you think I’m a criminal? Ha! I’m just a really enthusiastic law enforcer!”

Imagine the courtroom: Nicholls, with the gravitas of a Shakespearean actor, plays the clips.

There’s Duterte, leaning back in his chair, a smirk plastered across his face as he casually discusses his “accomplishments.”

It’s as if he’s presenting a PowerPoint on “How to Win Friends and Influence People… by Scaring Them to Death.”

“Look at me! I’m the king of the world!” he seems to say, completely unfazed by the gravity of the situation.

Nicholls, armed with the evidence, might as well have been holding a giant foam finger that read “#1 Criminal.”

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” he might have said, “this man is not just guilty; he’s proud of it! He’s like a kid who gets caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and instead of apologizing, he doubles down and asks for milk.”

And let’s talk about the sheer audacity of it all. While most politicians would at least feign remorse—perhaps a sad puppy dog face or a heartfelt “I’m sorry for the inconvenience”—Duterte took a different route.

He’s the guy who, when caught speeding, not only refuses to apologize but also insists that the speed limit is just a suggestion.

“What? You think I should feel bad? I’m just getting started!”

As the trial unfolds, one can’t help but wonder if Duterte is secretly auditioning for a reality show titled “Survivor: Political Edition.”

“Who needs remorse when you can have charisma?” he might say, winking at the camera. “I’ll just charm my way out of this one!”

In the end, as Nicholls lays out his case, it becomes clear that this trial is less about justice and more about the absurdity of a man who seems to revel in his own infamy.

Duterte’s unfazed demeanor is a reminder that sometimes, reality is stranger than fiction.

So, as we watch this courtroom drama unfold, let’s raise a glass to the absurdity of it all.

Here’s to the politicians who think they can laugh their way out of trouble, and to the lawyers who have to deal with the fallout.

After all, in the grand comedy of politics, the show must go on—even if it’s a tragedy in disguise!

Sa Central Bank Ni Aling Nena

Word: Candy

Definition: Parang pera ... na hindi naman. Pwedeng kasing panukli sa mga tindahan sa Pilipinas ... pero hindi pwedeng pambayad.

Essay:

In the midst of a changing global economy, one nation has discovered the secret to infinite wealth: the Philippines. While other countries fight over gold and Bitcoin, we are quietly building an empire based on Maxx, Snow Bear, and White Rabbit.

Let’s face the facts: In the Philippines, candy isn’t just sugar—it’s Legal Tender (coins or banknotes that must be accepted if offered in payment), well, semi-legal.

The "Central Bank of Aling Nena"

Only here will you experience a unique banking miracle. 

When the cashier is short one peso for your change, they don’t apologize. 

Instead, they hand over two pieces of Stork with a sweet smile that says: "Here is your retirement fund, my loyal customer."

The Sari-Sari Store Exchange Rate (As of 2026):

Philippine Peso (PHP)	Candy Equivalent
₱1.00	2 Pieces of Mentos
₱5.00	A handful of Choc-nut
₱0.25	One candy with the wrapper stuck to it

The Paradox of "Kendi-nomics"

Candy is like a "Ghost" lover: you feel its value when it’s being given to you, but that value vanishes the moment you try to offer it.

Try walking into a mall and paying for a new iPhone with three sacks of Dynamite candies. 

The guard, who was polite just moments ago, will suddenly turn into a "Wolf Warrior" as he shoos you out. 

Why? Because candy has One-Way Sovereignty.

"Candy is money that can be used as change, but never as payment. It is the only currency in the world that you have to eat just so you don't feel like you lost money."

Rules of the "Sweet" Currency:

1. The Expiry Clause: Real money doesn't spoil, but your candy-change can become as hard as cement after sitting in your pocket for a week.
2. The Dentist’s Conspiracy: It is said that cashiers and dentists have a secret agreement. The more candy given as change, the more "fillings" and "extractions" will be earned in the future. GDP growth, baby!
3. The Jeepney Gamble: Try handing three Potchi gummies to the Jeepney driver to cover your lack of fare. Let’s see if you don’t get kicked out in the middle of a flyover while being showered with the driver's "Rhetorical Gymnastics."

In Conclusion: Love Wisely, Chew Wisely

If Senator Robin Padilla of the world says the youth are "weak," perhaps it’s because they don’t know how to negotiate using sugar yet. 

The truly brave are the Filipinos who accept candy as change without complaint—but are ready to go to war if the count is missing a single piece.

Definition: Whataboutism

Welcome to the digital age’s favorite sport. Forget basketball or billiards; the national pastime of the Philippines is now Whataboutism. It is the magical art of never having to say you’re sorry—or even that you’re wrong—by simply pointing a finger at someone else who is also, coincidentally, a disaster.

Definition:

Whataboutism (noun): A rhetorical smoke bomb thrown by someone who has been caught red-handed. It is the act of defending a mistake by citing a different, completely unrelated mistake made by someone else since way back when?

Whataboutism (or whataboutery) is an informal logical fallacy and propaganda technique that deflects criticism or accusations by raising counter accusations of different, often irrelevant issues.

Instead of defending against an accusation, it shifts the focus by using "but what about...?" to dodge accountability, distract from the subject, or imply hypocrisy.

 Another glaring examples are often seen in the podcast of Christian Esguerra, Ronald Llamas, or Chris Tan. 

While knee-deep discussing a very important political issue ... ang mga DDS kung naiipit na uses this ploy para makaiwas sa discussion and accountability by saying: "Kayo na ang maging presidente ..."

Or they can say:"Eh di ikaw na matalino?" 

"Look over there! A distraction!", and "The Art of the Reverse Card."

Example:

Imagine, if you will, a heated discussion about the crime statistics in Davao City.

Person A: "I’m a bit concerned. Statistics show that Davao City has a surprisingly high number of reported crimes, including theft and physical injuries. 

I thought it was the safest city in the solar system?"

The Whataboutist (The 'Davao-Defender' Edition):

"Oh, so now you’re an expert on Davao? WHAT ABOUT Quezon City? 

Have you seen the snatching there? It’s basically an Olympic sport! 

And WHAT ABOUT the 1980s? Manila was basically a live-action zombie movie back then!

Why are you talking about a stolen cellphone in Davao when WHAT ABOUT the time your cousin forgot to return my Tupperware in 2012? Ha! Checkmate"

How to Use it in a Sentence

Scenario: You have been caught by your spouse eating the last slice of cake that was clearly labeled "DO NOT EAT."

The Sentence: "Honey, before you get mad about the Red Velvet cake, WHAT ABOUT the fact that the Spanish colonized us for 333 years and stole our national dignity?

Why aren't we talking about that systemic injustice instead of one little piece of frosting?"

The Hierarchy of Whataboutist Responses

When You Are Caught...	The Whataboutist Escape Route
Stealing Government Funds	"What about the Yolanda funds? Isali natin sa usapan!"
Misunderstood Forthwith	"What about the Chiz?" He started all this mess.
Being involved in ghost projects	"What about the other ghost!" Ghost employees ... ghost students!
Ignoring Maritime Laws	"What about the Fish in the ocean? Are they following the law?"

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The Beauty of the Fallacy

The genius of Whataboutism is that it requires zero brain cells but maximum lung capacity. 

You don't need to study law, geography, or ethics. You just need to keep a mental Rolodex of every bad thing that has ever happened in human history.

Are you being accused of a crime today? 

Just bring up a pirate attack from the 17th century. 

Are people questioning your "Confidential Funds"? Just ask them WHAT ABOUT the hidden treasure of Limahong.

In the world of Whataboutism, no one is ever guilty, because everyone is always "what-about-ing" someone else into oblivion.