Dexter in the Senate: When Sotto and Lacson Are the Next to be Chop

 

*Dr. Rodolfo John Ortiz Teope, PhD, EdD

 
One long weekend, I finished the Netflix series Dexter. By day, Dexter Morgan was a trusted forensic expert in Miami’s crime laboratory, decoding crime scenes with uncanny precision. He tracked blood splatters, pieced together fragments of evidence, and helped law enforcers hunt killers. Yet by night, he became a killer himself, binding his victims, chopping their bodies into pieces, and tossing them into the dark waters off Miami. He was both the hunter and the killer—both the law enforcer and the lawbreaker—living a double life that deceived everyone around him.
 
When I look at the Senate today, I cannot help but see the same paradox. Our senators present themselves as hunters of corruption, enforcers of accountability, guardians of the law. They hold hearings, they interrogate witnesses, they act as if they are policing the budget for the good of the nation. Yet many of them, when the lights go dim, are killers of truth. They chop the budget into insertions, mutilate it into ghost projects, and dump the evidence into the dark waters of bureaucracy. By day, they play detectives; by night, they play butchers.
 
This is why the possible ouster of Senate President Tito Sotto and the silencing of Senator Ping Lacson is so alarming. They have acted as true decoders, like forensic experts pointing to the blood stains others try to wash away. They have traced the chopped-up bodies of our stolen projects and said to the public: here lies the missing classroom, here lies the collapsed flood control, here lies the road that never was. And because they reveal too much, they are now being stalked by their peers.
 
It is a grotesque irony. Instead of protecting the law enforcers who expose the crime, the Senate has turned into a hunting ground where truth-tellers are prey. Just like Dexter’s victims bound to his kill table, Sotto and Lacson are being prepared for the chopping block. Their “crime” is not corruption—it is honesty. And in a chamber ruled by Dexters, honesty is a death sentence.
 
Every insertion is a severed limb of the nation. Every ghost project is another torso discarded. Every overpriced contract is a head rolled into the shadows. And just as Dexter carried his bags into the sea, the Senate carries the bodies of these crimes into the abyss of silence, hoping the people will never know. But unlike the silent waters of Miami, our nation cannot hide its dead. We walk on the broken bones of unfinished roads, we study in skeletal classrooms, we bury loved ones in the absence of healthcare carved away by thieves in power.
 
The most chilling thought is this: when hunters who are supposed to enforce the law become killers of truth, there is no one left to protect the people. That is what the Senate risks becoming. And if the next to be chopped are Sotto and Lacson, then we lose not just two men, but the last fragments of conscience in a chamber drowning in bloodless crimes.
 
If Dexter taught us anything, it is that a double life cannot last forever. The truth surfaces, no matter how deep the sea. But the question for us Filipinos is urgent: will we allow our true hunters—the ones who seek evidence and expose the crime—to be chopped by the very killers they have unmasked? For if we do, then we too are throwing our future into the ocean, bagged and weighted, waiting to sink without a trace.

 ___________________

 *About the author:

Dr. Rodolfo “John” Ortiz Teope is a distinguished Filipino academic, public intellectual, and advocate for civic education and public safety, whose work spans local academies and international security circles. With a career rooted in teaching, research, policy, and public engagement, he bridges theory and practice by making meaningful contributions to academic discourse, civic education, and public policy. Dr. Teope is widely respected for his critical scholarship in education, management, economics, doctrine development, and public safety; his grassroots involvement in government and non-government organizations; his influential media presence promoting democratic values and civic consciousness; and his ethical leadership grounded in Filipino nationalism and public service. As a true public intellectual, he exemplifies how research, advocacy, governance, and education can work together in pursuit of the nation’s moral and civic mission.

VIEWS: 206K

 

Filibustering: A Deterrent to National Development

*Dr.  Rodolfo JohnOrtiz Teope, PhD, EdD

The other day, while driving along Mindanao Avenue corner Congressional Avenue, I found myself slowing down at the sight of beggars crowding both sides of the road. Children with dusty faces tapped on car windows. Mothers cradled infants in their arms, whispering words of comfort that did little to mask the hunger etched on their faces. Fathers, their eyes tired and defeated, stood quietly, holding out their hands, hoping for just a few coins. In that moment, I realized they cared nothing about the heated debates in the Senate or the flood control scam dominating the news. They only cared about one thing: survival. Will they eat tonight? That was the only question that mattered to them.

When I got home and turned on the television, the contrast hit me like a wall. What I saw was not about poverty, or hunger, or jobs. What I saw was filibustering—senators speaking endlessly, stretching debates with technicalities, drowning each other with words. I listened for solutions but heard only delay. I watched for progress but saw only obstruction. And it struck me: while those beggars wait for food, while families wait for jobs and classrooms, our leaders waste precious hours protecting themselves and their allies through endless speeches that go nowhere.

Filibustering, I realized, is not just about wasting time. It is about wasting lives. Every hour spent in grandstanding is an hour stolen from the poor. Every day consumed by legal gymnastics is a day when no law is passed to put rice on tables or roofs over heads. Those who stand at the rostrum may think their voices are powerful, but to the Filipino people outside, those voices are a wall—a barrier that blocks the solutions they so desperately need.

I thought of the missing sabungeros whose families still wait for justice, of children squeezed in overcrowded classrooms, of farmers tilling the land without support, of hospitals that cannot heal because resources are scarce. These are the real stories that demand attention, yet they are drowned in the noise of filibustering. Instead of urgency, we get delay. Instead of decisions, we get distractions. And in the end, the people who suffer most are the ones who were never even part of the conversation.

And this is not theoretical. We saw it in the blue-ribbon hearings, where hours upon hours were consumed by privilege speeches that strayed from the issue, often weaponized to defend allies implicated in corruption. We saw it in debates over the national budget, where instead of hammering out solutions for education, health, and jobs, senators buried the discussions in repetitive arguments, delaying disbursement of funds critical to social services. Even during impeachment proceedings in past years, filibustering became a tactic to stall the inevitable, with speeches longer than court testimonies, not for the sake of truth but for the sake of survival. In all these instances, filibustering was not a shield for democracy—it was a sword pointed at the heart of national development.

The more I watched, the more I saw how filibustering has become a weapon. It is used not to clarify but to confuse, not to enlighten but to obscure, not to protect the people but to shield the plunderers. The Senate, meant to be a place of service, often feels like a theater where political survival is the main performance. The poor remain outside the gates, unheard and unseen, while debates inside circle endlessly, producing nothing but frustration.

And yet, I cannot help but think of the greater tragedy behind it all. Every time filibustering takes the stage, the nation loses focus. The cameras follow the speeches, the headlines cover the drama, and the people are led to believe something meaningful is happening. But it is an illusion. The truth is that filibustering is a distraction, a way to buy time, to bury accountability, to prevent decisions from being made. And while we are distracted, hunger grows, poverty deepens, and hope withers.

This is why I return to the doctrine of Timpuyog Pilipinas: to love rather than hate, to unite rather than divide, and to build rather than destroy. I think of it often when I watch our leaders. Filibustering embodies the very opposite. It divides instead of unites. It destroys time instead of building solutions. It feeds on hate and suspicion instead of compassion and service. It has become a mirror of what politics should never be.

And so I ask: how long must the Filipino people wait? How long must that child on Mindanao Avenue wait for food while senators argue endlessly? How long must the farmer wait for support while privilege speeches consume session hours? How long must teachers wait for classrooms, workers wait for jobs, mothers wait in hospitals with no doctors, while filibustering continues to block the path to development?

I cannot accept that this is the kind of democracy we must endure. I cannot accept that delay and obstruction should define the lives of millions. If senators continue to waste time in speeches that serve no one but themselves, history will not remember the words they spoke—it will remember the hunger they ignored, the poverty they prolonged, and the nation they abandoned.

Filibustering is more than a parliamentary tactic; it is a betrayal. It is the theft of time, of opportunity, of progress. It is the reason why, while the world moves forward, our nation remains stuck. The people do not ask for perfection. They ask for food, for jobs, for education, for justice. These are not luxuries; they are the very essence of governance. And every day that filibustering delays action, those promises slip further away.

For me, the choice is simple. Our leaders must abandon obstruction and embrace service. They must rise above politics and finally see the faces outside their halls—the hungry child, the weary worker, the forgotten Filipino. Because when politics distracts, the nation suffers. And when filibustering replaces leadership, the nation is betrayed.

The time for endless debate is over. The time for national development is now.

  ____________

 *About the author:

Dr. Rodolfo “John” Ortiz Teope is a distinguished Filipino academic, public intellectual, and advocate for civic education and public safety, whose work spans local academies and international security circles. With a career rooted in teaching, research, policy, and public engagement, he bridges theory and practice by making meaningful contributions to academic discourse, civic education, and public policy. Dr. Teope is widely respected for his critical scholarship in education, management, economics, doctrine development, and public safety; his grassroots involvement in government and non-government organizations; his influential media presence promoting democratic values and civic consciousness; and his ethical leadership grounded in Filipino nationalism and public service. As a true public intellectual, he exemplifies how research, advocacy, governance, and education can work together in pursuit of the nation’s moral and civic mission.

VIEWS: 28K