All posts by Pol Pinoy

Introducing: The UNITIM

(Melchor Vergara contributed to this report)

In a last-ditch attempt to save Senator Imee Marcos’ embattled Senate seat, a new political chimera has emerged from the ashes of old alliances: the UNITIM—a fusion of VP Sara Duterte’s grit and Imee’s… well, heritage.

Forget UniTeam. This is Unitim: darker, bolder, and sounding suspiciously like a villainous potion brewed by power-hungry warlocks. With the color palette of doom and slogans that scream “Please don’t let us lose relevance,” the Unitim brand is less campaign, more cry for help. It’s like watching two telenovela villains team up in the finale—only instead of revenge, they’re fighting for committee assignments.

The awkward handshakes, forced smiles, and thinly veiled desperation mark not just a political maneuver, but possibly the opening act of a joint career funeral. If political dynasties had horoscopes, this one would read: “Mercury in retrograde, popularity in freefall. Avoid scandals. And TikTok.”

Sara Duterte And Imee Marcos Wear Black

In a bold and fashion-forward twist, Sara Duterte has endorsed Imee Marcos’ senatorial bid, and the two have ditched their usual political colors—green and red—for something far more symbolic: black.

Is it chic mourning wear or a candid confession that their political relevance is flatlining faster than a teleserye villain in episode one?

Imee, ever the resilient political zombie, rises once more, while Sara, fresh from playing hide-and-seek with impeachment, clutches her political career like it’s the last Birkin in a department store fire. Black, after all, is slimming—perhaps to help trim down those bloated ambitions and skeletons in their respective closets. But hey, at least it’s honest. Black says, “We’ve read the polls, and yes, we’re attending our own funeral. Stylishly.”

As the two clasp hands in matching funeral couture, we can only wonder: is this an endorsement or a dramatic eulogy with better lighting?

Malcolm Conlan Does Not Represent Filipino Sentiment

Malcolm Conlan, the self-declared “British voice of the Filipinos,” has once again emerged from his Barong Tagalog wardrobe to remind us—unsolicited—that he feels Filipino.

Armed with nothing but a Filipino wife, a Facebook page, and the audacity of colonial hangover, he writes open letters like it’s 1898 and he’s the viceroy of our collective sentiment. He takes selfies with Duterte and supporters as though they’re constitutional credentials.

But Malcolm, buddy, wearing a Barong doesn’t grant you a seat in the Senate of Filipino opinion. It’s fashion, not naturalization. And let’s be honest—just because you initiated dozens of online petitions doesn’t mean you speak for 110 million people. You can love the Philippines all you want (Mabuhay!), but nationalism isn’t cosplay. Concern is welcome, but claiming a mandate? That’s as British as thinking tea solves everything.

Also, friendly reminder: Duterte is not the Philippines, and neither are his fans. Sip that with your salabat.