Patriot Realm

By Roderick "Whiskers" McNibble, Hangar Correspondent at Large

In a tin shed somewhere beyond the Black Stump, in a town called Dutsy Gulch,  under a corrugated iron roof that’s more rust than shelter, a political storm is brewing. And it smells faintly of eucalyptus, woodsmoke, and yesterday’s meat pie.

Enter the Ratty Party: a larrikin coalition of bush rats, shed shakers, lamington libertarians, and retired school canteen warriors and CWA ladies. Their campaign? A great uprising of commonsense, crusty dignity, and suspiciously sticky election posters made from leftover marmalade.

Their leader, Dusty McFookit, emerges not in a suit but in a gravy-stained Jackie Howe singlet, quoting Lawson and scratching where it itches. His platform? Honest. Blunt. Slightly flammable.

The Burrow Blueprint: Ratty Party's Pledge to the Nation

1. Build the Dingo Fence - Around Canberra

Why secure the borders when you can fence off the politicians? The Ratty Party promises to surround Canberra with a dingo-proof barrier, complete with honesty detectors and a cattle grid that emits Slim Dusty tunes.

“It’s not isolation - it’s pest control,” McFookit declared, planting a star picket using a tin of Milo and pure spite. "Keep the nonsense in, and the decency out. If elected, we will move the capital from Canberra to Dusty Gulch. " "

The Ratty Party proposes a strategic containment initiative: A double-insulated, solar-powered Dingo Fence around:

• Canberra (entire ACT - now reclassified as the People's Republic of Mindfulness)

• Inner-city enclaves: anywhere where people voted Green or think that Albo is a good bloke

• Any suburb where the median café price for smashed avo exceeds a day’s wage

Inside the Fence:

• Gender-neutral macramé apprenticeships

• Emergency safe spaces for people offended by Slim Dusty lyrics

• Free daily yoga sessions subsidised by carbon credits

Outside the Fence:

• Working utes, functional flannel, diesel generators, and freedom

• Compulsory national curriculum on Crocodile Dundee, the Castle, and the 1983 America's Cup

• A meat pie per child policy for school lunches

• A return to bush values, pub debates, and jokes that offend some people 

 

Free Speech & Cheek

• Guaranteed right to take the piss (within reason).

• All laws must pass the Redhead Test: “Would our beloved 92-year-old find this unnecessarily rude or blindingly stupid?”

The Ratty Party says we must pause all immigration until infrastructure matches population. “We’re not against newcomers,” said McFookit, “but when our own are sheltering in hollow logs and tin cans, it’s time to put Australian bush rats first.”

“No more globalist busybodies with clipboards telling us how to live.”

Australia will exit the UN, the Climate Accord, and all treaties that try to tell the Ratty people what to dig, burn, or believe.

Scrap Net Zero – Fire Up the Coal Skillets

“You can’t make marmalade in the dark.”

The Ratty Party pledges to restore Australia’s energy independence by reopening coal plants and supporting nuclear trials (as long as they don’t spook the wombats).

“Net Zero?” scoffed Party Energy Spokesrat Sally Sugarglider. “It’s net nonsense. Rats need warmth, light, and the ability to toast a crumpet at 2am. No windmill’s going to help you in a blackout.”

End Wokeism in the Burrow

“We’ve had enough of identity politics. We’re one rat race, not 30.”

The Ratty Party will strip taxpayer funds from divisive ideology, reintroduce merit-based appointments, and ensure that no rodent is judged by fur colour, tail length, or chewing style.

As McFookit put it: “We don’t need equity consultants. We need working paws and honest hearts.”

RATTY PARTY CAMPAIGN LAUNCH SPEECH
Delivered by Roderick "Whiskers" McNibble
"From the Burrow, For the Bush"

"My fellow marsupials, rodents, wallabies and working-class battlers..."

We stand here today, not in some polished marble hall in Canberra, but on solid, red, honest dirt! Where the only thing higher than your water bill is your respect for the bloke next door. Where 'community' still means something - and 'communal' doesn’t mean sharing one sock among twelve rats!

This isn’t just a campaign. It’s a return to common scents - eucalyptus, diesel, and sheep dip. And I say to you now:
The Ratty Revolution starts with a scratch and ends with a STAMPEDE.

Here’s what we stand for:

Build the Fence - Around Canberra!
Let the latte-drenched elites nibble each other’s kale in peace. We’re fencing off their ideology like it’s a feral pig infestation.
It’s not isolation - it’s insulation. Like Pink Batts but without the Peter Garrett bit. 

Quit the UN, Nix Net Zero, and Burn the Climate Accord (responsibly, during a Total Fire Ban).
We're keeping our burrows warm with coal, not cop-outs. No bush rat ever asked a wind turbine how to toast crumpets.

Freedom of squeak FOREVER!
We’ll rip the censor’s claws clean off the printing press. No more banning ballads, no more silencing Slim Dusty, and no more climate cults cancelling Cracker Night!

Restore the Bush - Restore the Bloke.
We want utes, not virtue. We want Akubras, not anxiety disorders. We're bringing Crocodile Dundee back as a role model and teaching kids how to gut a fish before they know their pronouns.

A Pie in Every Paw.
We’re ending marmalade imports from totalitarian regimes and backing Aussie bakeries that still use real butter and love.

The Bradfield Scheme - But Bigger.
If Panama can have a canal, we can have a continent-wide irrigation miracle. Water for every wheatbelt. Dams for days. Crops higher than a boomer at a Midnight Oil concert.

Education - No More Indoctrination.
We teach reading, writing, and respect for the rat who built the shed. No more 16-year-olds with three genders and no job.

"We’ve had enough of being ruled by bureaucrats who wouldn’t know a shovel from a cheeseboard!"

This country was built on backs that broke, not backs that scrolled through grievance hashtags. It’s time for a comeback of guts, grit, and grandma’s jam sponge.

We're calling time on all the smoke, speeches, and interpretive squatting.

Welcome to Country? More like Welcome to Productivity. Ratty estimates that over 3.2 million manhours have been lost nodding solemnly to things no one understands. We’re reclaiming our time, our sanity, and the first 15 minutes of every meeting.

“We respect the past, but we’ve got pies to bake and sheds to fix,” McFookit barked, waving away a puff of eucalyptus smoke.

So I say to you - stand up, shake the dust off your tail, and VOTE 1 for the burrow, the bush, and the beautiful blaze of freedom-fed furballs.

“Rats rise when the bush burns. And mates - this country’s smouldering.”
“The Ratty Party - because someone’s got to chew through the red tape.”

 

2. Quit the UN, Dump Net Zero, Fire Up the Furnace

Climate? We already have one: it's hot, dusty, and full of flies. The Ratty Party will torch the climate treaties, mine the coal, and run every streetlight off backyard barbies and wombat-safe nuclear trials.

“You can’t toast crumpets on a carbon credit,” said Milly Matchstick, Energy Spokesrat and backyard welder.

3. Free Speech Means Cheek - and Lots of It

Ban the bans. Un-cancel Cracker Night. Rehabilitate the Aussie pun. If you can’t take a joke, you’re not ready for democracy. Grandad didn't storm Kokoda so his grandkids could get banned from Facebook for quoting The Man From Snowy River.

“Offence is taken, not given—and only Redhead gets to decide if it’s rude,” McFookit clarified, passing the Anzac biscuits.

4. Bush Rats First: Pause Immigration Until We Build More Burrows

Until every Aussie battler has a burrow, a tin roof, and a proper Hills Hoist, we’re slowing the flow. Respectfully. Firmly. With a thermos of tea for those waiting.

“This isn’t xenophobia,” said McFookit. “It’s rat-first realism.”

5. Restore the Bloke, the Bush, and the Billy

Bring back the pub argument, the unsolicited advice, the flannel-and-fence-post curriculum. The national syllabus will now include The Castle, how to reverse a trailer, and building a shed with your uncle who never measured anything.

“There’s no dignity in knowing 47 pronouns if you can’t change a tyre,” muttered Education Spokesrat Shazza Nutwhisker, pouring condensed milk into her tea.

6. A Pie in Every Paw, A Crumpet on Every Coal

Support for Aussie marmalade. Protection for real meat pies. Ban fake lamingtons and foreign spreads made by tyrants. Culinary sovereignty begins with butter.

“It’s a breakfast, not a trade deficit,” McFookit growled between bites.

7. The Bradfield Scheme Lives: Turn the Country Into a Damned Oasis

We’re reviving the mad dreams of old engineers. Dams, pipes, canals, and puddles the size of Tasmania. We’ll water this wide brown land if it kills us, or at least makes the lawn grow.

“If nature won’t water us, we’ll do it ourselves - with gumption and leaky buckets,” said Barry “Dracula” McDribble, Infrastructure Rat and proud member of the Evaporated Sink Spanner League.

This isn’t just a campaign. It’s a red-dust rebellion. A gumleaf gospel. A call to action for every forgotten battler who ever found a burnt snag, a broken radio, and a reason to keep going.