The closest joke with consequences similar to Vice President Sara Duterte’s “designated survivor” joke is the dumb bomb joke made inside an airplane.

A jokester making a bomb joke in an airplane, as we all know, gets his ass hauled off straight to the interrogation room, even as his fellow passengers curse him for delaying the takeoff since bomb sniffing dogs have to sniff out the plane for anything threatening.

Ms. Duterte, of course, wasn’t detained for her joke, which obliquely raised the scenario of the country’s entire political leadership being wiped out during the President’s forthcoming State of the Nation Address. A scenario that nervous security authorities take seriously.

Still, Ms. Duterte figuratively faced furious and heavy shelling for her joke, particularly from a vitriolic chorus of pro-administration legislators in the Lower House, who in recent times thought her some sort of untouchable “political goddess.”

Scores of these legislators – too many to name here — worked overtime to bend themselves into mental pretzels to pillory Ms. Duterte, all with the obvious intention of making sure she doesn’t climb back up on her pedestal.

Anyway, while some solemn observers of our politics expressly cautioned against making a mountain out of a molehill of a joke, Ms. Duterte’s quip piqued our interest for what might be called the joke’s “lightness of profundity.”

In this case, the lightness in admitting a wish to hold ultimate power in our elite democracy.

Straight off, in a political system where winning the presidency means winner-takes-all, Ms. Duterte inadvertently confessed that her wish for ultimate power lay in something unfortunate happening to the Chief Executive.

Of course, her unspoken wish is typical in any power relationship. The country’s political history is replete with similar wishes, with not a few presidents becoming president after a sitting president’s untimely physical or political death.

(Of a recent political death, the case of ousted former President Joseph Estrada comes to mind. Erap’s fall from power came after the military establishment withdrew support, which now raises the provocative question as to what the present military’s role will be in handing over political power if something were indeed to happen to President Marcos Jr. But that’s for another time.)

Still, despite such a political reality, scores of Ms. Duterte’s supporters managed to treat such a reality as optional.

It is as if they are saying that political facts must not compromise political feelings. The political reality must not disturb the political fantasy that they hadn’t lost political power despite the fact that their erstwhile “unity” partner had effectively compromised that fantasy.

It was a stripping of political power which invariably explains the other half of Ms. Duterte’s joke: “I appoint myself.”

No matter how hyperbolic it sounds, the “self-appointing” screed does reveal a deluded parallel world where one’s political persona is comparable to institutional political power.

Still, even if some wags jokingly point out the Davao region is where the self-appointment screed is notoriously abundant — the fugitive self-proclaimed “son of God” handily comes to mind — the screed nonetheless is admittedly still an exceptional sound bite which indeed warms the hearts of distressed acolytes of the Duterte parish now confronting diminishing morale over its once vaunted political clout.

Which only means the Duterte parish is still far from accepting the final stage of their political grief over their reduced political circumstances.

So, given that rallying the troops is the only obvious political intent of Ms. Duterte’s joke, what then does the “survivor” joke mean for the rest of us?

Setting aside all the overthinking, we can also be lighthearted about the joke, readily dismissing it as no more than another striking political joke which often pepper our hilarious politics.

Our hilarity, however, comes with an added fillip. Ms. Duterte’s joke hides the uncomfortable truth that those in power really don’t care about one sane aspect we often crave for in our politics — a politically stable and orderly succession.