PATRIOTISM OF SPIES, LIES OF PATRIOTS

Somewhere in those great, crumbling halls, the inquiry begins. Alice Guo, the alleged Chinese spy, sits before a broken circle of lawmakers who have somehow convinced themselves that their patriotism is beyond reproach. They look at her with suspicion, as if the country's entire future hangs on whether this woman, sitting under glaring lights, can convince them that she doesn’t have a red telephone in her back pocket, calling Beijing.

"Do you love the Philippines?" one lawmaker spits, like a carnival barker setting up his next trick.

But wait. Let’s take a moment to peel back the absurdity. Love? For the Philippines? This is the same group of people who think waving a flag while shoveling pork barrel under the table counts as devotion to country. They sit there, high on their thrones, dripping in corruption, preaching as if they haven’t turned their own pockets into vaults filled with "funds for the people."

Yet they demand—demand—that Alice proclaim her undying loyalty to the archipelago.

Do they love the Philippines? Let’s be real. If "love" is sitting in your government seat and signing contracts and orchestrating arrangements that funnel millions into personal piggy banks, then, yes, they probably love it. But if love is action, and sacrifice, and perhaps not pocketing half the national budget, well... well, who’s the real spy here?

But back to Alice.

Imagine her, sitting there, being grilled like a piece of chicken inasal. (Bye-bye chicken~ Bye-bye everyone~) But let’s be honest: does anyone seriously think she's the problem? Let’s not beat around the bush. She’s merely the scapegoat in a pantomime where the real enemies are in the room but no one dares to point fingers because it’s just too... uncomfortable. The room itself smells like hypocrisy, seasoned with a faint whiff of forgotten anti-graft laws.

They ask her if she’s infiltrating their sacred halls, as if these halls haven't already been tainted by every sleazy, backdoor deal known to man. Alice must be holding back a smirk—what irony to be accused by those who make loyalty to this nation as fluid as a politician's ever-changing political affiliations. But the absurdity doesn’t end here.

Somewhere in the room, [she] watches the proceedings with narrowed eyes. She has built a career out of shouting at the wind and calling it progress. She’ll stand up, deliver a monologue in a tone that suggests she’s the nation’s moral compass, while conveniently ignoring that the needle points not to true north, but to wherever the cameras are.

Ah, the cameras. There’s the real love story—Virus and the lens. One wonders if she ever has the time to, you know, do something for the people without a camera crew in tow. Just asking.

But Alice? Poor Alice. She’s not really the enemy. She’s a distraction. Because as long as they’re pointing at her and screaming about spies, no one’s looking at their bank accounts, their properties abroad, their mysterious benefactors. Their halls become a stage, and Alice, the tragic heroine of a farcical production, is simply caught in the wrong act.

Now, let’s talk about love for the Philippines. True love. Let’s break it down: Do you build homes for the poor, or do you hoard land for yourself? Do you fight for public health, or are you too busy taking billions from our healthcare budget? Do you sit in hearings with self-righteous fury, questioning the loyalty of others while your own love is up for sale, as long as the price is right?

It's all so ridiculous that at some point, you wonder whether anyone believes this charade anymore. Are we supposed to? It’s like asking if a fish believes in water, except the water is polluted, and the fish have grown gills that can somehow filter corruption.

By now, the question is less about Alice Guo and more about who is really doing the infiltrating. Who is really sneaking into the nation’s coffers, draining resources while pretending to play the part of a patriot?

In the end, it’s not Alice we need to worry about. It’s not even Beijing. The real problem? The people who sit in those halls, bloated with privilege and drenched in the stench of their own hypocrisy.

"Do you love the Philippines?" they ask again, but maybe this time, it’s not Alice who should answer.

Maybe it's them.

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