For weeks, something strange was happening in our little corner of the internet.
It wasn’t Redhead adjusting someone’s economic theory. It wasn’t a spirited debate over meat pies versus lamingtons. It wasn’t even one of those mornings when some of you arrive a bit grumpy because the world has done something silly again.
No.
We were being hammered.
Not by readers.Not by critics.Not by angry grandstand gurus.
But by machines.
Apparently, while we were chatting about life, liberty, common sense and the proper thickness of gravy, an army of aggressive bots and crawlers decided our humble blog was the most fascinating place on earth.
Our server load shot up. Things slowed.The digital kettle began to whistle.
Enter the experts.
After weeks of watching this mechanical swarm thump against the door, I had to bring in reinforcements. An expert from India - calm, capable, probably fuelled by stronger coffee than ours - went to work alongside tech support. I don't drink coffee so maybe that was part of the problem? Who knows...
The verdict?
“Heavy traffic from bad or aggressive bots and crawlers. Attempted flood attacks. Restricted access from 43.153.0.0/16. VPS load now normal. Flood mitigated.”
Now I don’t know about you, but “restricted access from 43.153.0.0/16” sounds less like tech support and more like something from a Cold War command centre.
Which is when Paddy calmly posted the opening scene from Thunderbirds and declared:
“Thunderbirds are Go!”
And suddenly it all made sense.
International Rescue, But With Server Logs
For those who remember, Thunderbirds - created by Gerry Anderson - was about a family-run outfit called International Rescue.
Crisis strikes. Authorities flap. Rockets launch .Disaster contained.
Calm competence.No drama.Just action.
And that, my friends, is precisely what happened here.
The bots came like a digital bushfire - not because they hated us, not because they disagreed with our wisdom, but because that’s what bots do. They scan. They probe. They flood. They don’t think. They don’t read. They certainly don’t appreciate a good Aussie yarn.
They are the opposite of a pub crowd.
But instead of panicking, the tech equivalent of Thunderbird 1 scrambled.
Firewalls tightened.IP ranges blocked.Systems monitored. Load stabilised.
Tea poured.Lamingtons safe.
A Strange World We Live In
There is something faintly ridiculous about it all.
Here we are... a bunch of largely grey-haired conversationalists swapping thoughts like we used to swap stories over a back fence ... and somewhere out there, automated systems are treating us like a strategic military target.
Imagine explaining that in 1982.
“Yes, Margaret, the computer robots are attacking the blog again.”
We didn’t sign up for cyber warfare.We signed up for conversation.
Yet here we are.
The Good News
The flood has been mitigated. The perimeter is secure.The IP range 43.153.0.0/16 has been politely shown the door and told not to come back without manners.
The VPS server load is back to normal - which in layman’s terms means the kettle boils at the proper speed and the biscuits aren’t melting under pressure.
In other words:
International Rescue did its job.
A Thought Worth Keeping
There is something quietly reassuring about all this.
Because while the bots are automated, we are not.
They hammer. We host.
They flood. We converse.
They crawl.We sit and chat.
And when something threatens the peace of the pub, someone stands up, sorts it out, and the conversation carries on.
No hysteria. No collapse. No surrender.
Just steady hands.
So to Paddy who posted “Thunderbirds are Go!” - thank you.
It was exactly right.
The machines may be busy out there in the dark, scanning and swarming.
But in here?
The lights are on. The chairs are set. The regulars are arriving.
And International Rescue is on watch.
Now then..... Who’s making the tea? If we are asking for volunteers, maybe the bots could help out? They have nothing better to do now.... touch wood.
Monty
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