Ah, Ombudsman Samuel Martires—our very own master of transparency through opacity!

In an inspired move to redefine irony, Martires is now batting for the Commission on Audit (COA) to halt the publication of audit observations. Because nothing screams “accountability” quite like keeping taxpayers in the dark about how their money is spent. It’s almost poetic: the man tasked with rooting out corruption seems determined to bury the shovel.

The timing is, of course, impeccable. Just as the COA points a polite finger at some curious spending by the Department of Education under VP Sara Duterte—whose use of confidential funds already raises eyebrows—Martires swoops in like a knight clad in secrecy. Who could blame him? It’s tough being an Ombudsman when public scrutiny keeps ruining the fun.

Let’s not forget, Martires is the same visionary who limited public access to SALNs, making it harder to check if officials suddenly acquired beach resorts after a few years in office. And yes, he’s a Duterte appointee, which really ties this little melodrama together.

Maybe Martires is onto something with his previous suggestion to abolish his office entirely. Why stop there? Let’s just make corruption legal and call it “streamlining governance.” Less paperwork for everyone!

Ah, the Commission on Elections (Comelec)—champion of rules that exist only to be spectacularly ignored. The 90- and 40-day campaign periods? Mere suggestions! Candidates ingeniously bypass these pesky timelines by putting up billboards that scream, “Wishing you a safe ride!” because nothing says public service like their grinning faces on a highway. It’s not campaigning, they insist, just heartfelt concern for your commute. Some capitalize on fiestas or some unrelated election project to keep their faces on easy recall.

And vote-buying? Once a covert operation, now a full-blown public spectacle. Forget secrecy; some candidates proudly livestream their generosity, turning cash handouts into viral moments. Who needs a platform when you’ve got a giveaway? It’s democracy, Filipino-style: vote not for the most qualified, but for the one who hands you a crisp P500 bill.

Comelec, meanwhile, maintains its poker face, reminding everyone of rules no one follows. It’s a performance art piece, really—a comedy of errors where everyone plays their part flawlessly.