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So, let’s get this straight. In the span of about 48 hours, we learned three things about... So, let’s get this straight. In the span of about 48 hours, we learned three things about the future of Puerto Rico.
First, a federal court had to legally force FEMA to consider not rebuilding the island’s electrical grid into the same fossil-fueled, hurricane-prone catastrophe it was before. Second, the Pentagon landed a squadron of F-35B stealth fighters—you know, the trillion-dollar jets of the future—at an old naval base in Ceiba, supposedly to fight drug runners. And third, Bad Bunny, the island’s biggest cultural export since Ricky Martin, is headlining the Super Bowl halftime show, inviting the inevitable MAGA meltdown.
Solar panels, stealth jets, and a reggaeton superstar. If you tried to pitch this as a TV show, they’d laugh you out of the room for being too on-the-nose. But this is the reality for 3.2 million American citizens who are trapped in a bizarre national psychodrama. Washington can’t decide if Puerto Rico is a climate-ravaged charity case, a strategic military asset, or a cultural trendsetter. And honestly, it’s getting exhausting to watch.
The Grid is a Joke, and Washington Knows It
Let’s start with the most basic thing: keeping the lights on. After Hurricane Maria in 2017, the world saw what a joke the island’s centralized grid was. It collapsed. Completely. People died because they couldn’t power medical equipment. Eight years later, after another hurricane (Erin) knocked out power again, you’d think the plan would be different.
You’d be wrong.
FEMA’s grand vision was to pour at least $12 billion of disaster relief money into… rebuilding the exact same obsolete system. It’s like your house burns down because of faulty wiring, and the insurance company insists on putting the same faulty wiring back in. It’s malpractice. No, ‘malpractice’ doesn't cover it—it's a level of bureaucratic inertia so profound it becomes actively malicious.
It took a lawsuit from a coalition of community groups to secure a Legal Victory: FEMA Must Consider Rooftop Solar for Puerto Rico’s Ailing Grid, with a judge stating the obvious: FEMA was breaking the law by ignoring the most logical alternative on the planet—distributed rooftop solar and battery storage. The court’s ruling was scathing, pointing out that “if FEMA funding continues to be channeled to fossil fuel-based infrastructure, it is unlikely that Puerto Rico will have the resources to pursue renewable energy alternatives in the near future.”
You hear that? The agency in charge of emergency management was actively blocking the most resilient energy solution for a hurricane-alley island. Ruth Santiago, one of the lawyers, called the funds a “once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.” A better description might be a once-in-a-lifetime IQ test, and FEMA was failing it spectacularly. Why does it take a federal lawsuit to force an agency to do the most common-sense thing imaginable? Is the fossil fuel lobby really that powerful, or is this just pure, uncut incompetence?
So, About Those Warplanes...
While one arm of the U.S. government is fumbling the basics of 21st-century infrastructure, another is playing a very different game. Ten F-35B Lightning IIs screaming onto the tarmac at the former Roosevelt Roads Naval Station is not, I repeat, not about stopping some guys in a speedboat full of cocaine. Give me a break. You don’t use a $100 million stealth fighter for that unless you’re trying to send a message.
And the message is clearly for Nicolas Maduro in Venezuela.
The whole deployment is dripping with geopolitical subtext. They stripped the unit markings off the jets for "operational security" but then announced the squadron's name in the photo captions, as seen in the F-35s Deployed To Puerto Rico Showcased In First Official Images (Updated). Sure, guys. We’ve got destroyers, a nuclear sub, MQ-9 Reaper drones, and even a damn special ops "mothership" called the Ocean Trader prowling the Caribbean. Offcourse, this is all just for a simple counter-narcotics mission.
This is mission creep in neon lights. President Trump has already declared the cartels "unlawful combatants" in a "non-international armed conflict." That’s the kind of legal gymnastics you do right before you start dropping bombs without a formal declaration of war. And where is the forward operating base for this potential conflict? Good old Puerto Rico. An island that can’t guarantee power to a hospital is now hosting some of the most advanced killing machines ever built. The irony is so thick you could cut it with a knife. What happens to the people of San Juan if things go sideways with Caracas? Do they get a say in being on the front lines of Trump's next adventure?
Enter the Bunny
Then there's the third future, the one that Washington has absolutely no control over. Benito Antonio Martínez Ocasio, aka Bad Bunny.
While FEMA argues about power lines and the Pentagon plays war games, Bad Bunny is preparing to perform for 100 million people at the Super Bowl. He’s the most-streamed artist on the planet, and he’s done it all while being unapologetically, aggressively Puerto Rican. He sings in Spanish, centers the island in his music videos, and uses his platform to talk about its problems.
His latest album, released just before Trump’s inauguration, was described as a tribute to the island's culture. He’s not just an artist; he's a cultural ambassador for a nation-state that isn't technically a nation-state. He represents a future where Puerto Rico’s power isn't derived from its utility to the mainland—either as a dependent or a military base—but from its own vibrant, globally influential culture.
And off course, the usual suspects are already mad about it. A Latino artist headlining the most American of all events? Singing in Spanish? It’s a direct challenge to a certain kind of person who sees the island and its people as secondary, as other. Bad Bunny doesn't need America's permission, and that scares the hell out of them. He’s a walking, singing embodiment of a future where the island defines itself, for itself.
So Which Is It?
So what is Puerto Rico in 2025? Is it a testbed for a resilient, green-energy future built from the ground up? Is it a disposable military base for proxy wars in Latin America? Or is it a cultural superpower whose biggest export is a global icon?
The terrifying thing is that it’s all three at once. The U.S. government is treating the island with a kind of political schizophrenia, simultaneously neglecting its basic needs, exploiting its strategic location, and ignoring its cultural ascendancy. One island, three completely contradictory futures, all happening at the same time. The people of Puerto Rico deserve better than being the backdrop for America's incoherent foreign and domestic policy. They deserve to choose their own damn future.