A few weeks ago, someone broke into my quiet little corner of the internet and tried to burn it down... and then again today. The first time, it was getting me blacklisted by injecting nasty files into our site. The second hit was nastier: they deleted every file on my server. Thankfully I had a backup for PR .
What saddens me is that they deleted my music archive: painstakingly created for my parents. Dad, sadly gone and Mum still soldiering on at 93. Why do people do this? Why delete songs and memories? Why? The hackers didn’t just vandalise a site; they violated a memory space. A place where stories lived, where voices gathered, where my parents' music - metaphorically and literally - could still be heard. They trampled through that like it was nothing, and laughed. And it was all to get at patriotrealm.com.
I’m no big shot. Just a storyteller spinning yarns for a small group of like-minded people. So why the fury? Why the need to silence a blog with barely a few hundred readers?
Because truth rattles cages. And in today’s digital dust-up, to speak it - openly, plainly - is to paint a target on your back. That’s why satire has become our last bastion. It’s not just humour. It’s a code. A sly parable in a world of watchful eyes.
Read more: Veiled Truths: Why Satire Is Our Last Bastion in a Hacked World
By Ernest ‘Ember’ McTail, Special Correspondent. Serious News Division of Ratty News
The world watches. There he stands. Albanese. Our Prime Minister. Abandoned at the G7 - flapping about like he just wandered into a Bachelor & Spinsters Ball with directions from a stylist, not a stock route. Would he have worn his fried eggs shirt? His tutu? Who knows. Who cares.
They say Australia was "invited" - like a kangaroo asked to a lion’s tea party. Let me be clear: Australia wasn’t invited. Australia was summoned.
Because when the global game gets ugly, they all remember the big empty island with the secret bases, the uranium, the missiles, and the mates who say “no worries” even as the air raid sirens wail.
Well I’ve got news for you: Worry, Albo. Worry plenty wong. You can’t wear a Wallabies jersey and a Chinese silk robe at the same time. This game is about to get ugly.
Albo was invited to the ball and got snubbed. Holding his corsage and his date was a no show. And my whiskers are twitching.
But this article is not about World War 3 or about G7. It is about a hat. The Akubra. And what it stands for......
Read more: The Hat, The Betrayal, and the Bush That Remembers
It began, as such stories often do, in silence and snow.
Kananaskis, Alberta - a remote and breathtaking stretch of mountain wilderness - first entered global consciousness in 2002. Then, in the wake of 9/11, the world’s most powerful leaders gathered not in a grand capital or gleaming conference hall, but in a secluded Canadian resort, miles from anywhere and accessible only by a handful of roads.
It was a strange choice, at least on the surface. The G8 - the United States, United Kingdom, France, Germany, Italy, Canada, and Japan and Russia - had never before met in such isolation. But in a world freshly rattled by terrorism, where the ground still shook from the collapse of towers in New York and the bombs of Afghanistan, Kananaskis offered what the moment demanded: control.
Control over the space, the narrative, the risks. The G8 met beneath the mountains not only to keep people out .... but, in some subtle and unspoken way, to keep people in. In a world slipping toward something more dangerous, it was a fortress disguised as a retreat.
Fast-forward twenty-three years, and the G7 has returned to Kananaskis, minus Russia. ( membership was suspended in 2014 following the annexation of Crimea, which is when the group reverted to being called the G7. )
Only this time, the stakes are even higher. The atmosphere is not one of aftermath but anticipation - of something coming. Something imminent.
The guest list has changed too.
Read more: The Summit in the Snow: Australia at the Table, But for Whose War?
As Australia faces economic collapse, and leaders like Donald Trump and Javier Milei take bold steps to revive growth and self-reliance, it’s worth asking: what actually lifts a nation out of poverty?
Vietnam might seem like an unlikely teacher - a war-torn, socialist country that once held the dubious title of “poorest in the world.” But its story is one of the most extraordinary economic turnarounds in modern history.
And it confirms something a Scottish philosopher wrote almost 250 years ago.
In 1776, the same year the United States declared independence, Adam Smith published The Wealth of Nations. He argued that prosperity doesn't come from kings, bureaucracies, or foreign aid. It comes from free people engaging in voluntary exchange, supported by basic justice and low taxes. He called this the work of the “invisible hand” - the idea that markets, left mostly to themselves, would generate wealth far more efficiently than governments ever could.
His formula was simple and timeless:
“Little else is required to carry a state to the highest degree of opulence from the lowest barbarism but peace, easy taxes, and a tolerable administration of justice.”
It sounds almost too simple. But Vietnam, of all places, proved him right.
Read more: The Vietnam Miracle: Free Markets Work, Foreign Aid Doesn’t
In an age of civil unrest, burning cities, and bitter political division, the words “Give me liberty or give me death” may sound like a relic, until you realise how urgently they still apply.
As Americans mark 250 years since the birth of the U.S. Army, we’re reminded that the republic was not forged by standing armies alone, but by citizens who stood up when the moment demanded it. The militia - ordinary men with muskets, not uniforms - were the backbone of early American resistance. And today, as debates rage over gun rights, government power, and the meaning of freedom, the Second Amendment is not just about hunting rifles.
It’s a living reminder that liberty has always depended on the courage and readiness of the people. This is the story of Cowpens, of cunning and courage, and of how a ragtag militia helped birth a nation - and why their legacy still matters.
June 14, 1775, marks the official birth of the United States Army - the day the Continental Congress, facing the outbreak of revolution, resolved to unify the scattered colonial militias under one command. What began as a desperate act of survival - organising farmers, blacksmiths, and shopkeepers into soldiers - became the cornerstone of the longest-standing military force in American history.
Read more: “Give Me Liberty”: The Militia, Cowpens, and the Birth of the American Military
Today, I am featuring an article written by our dear blogger Malcolm back in 2021. He would have been coming up 90 then.... It seems very relevant for some reason. I hope you enjoy.
It is interesting to think about the various factors which influenced us as children … our first days at school, our early reading matter, so many new experiences which shaped our development. Depending on our present age, the answers to these questions will vary greatly.
From Cane Fields to Comic books and beyond, I am proud to have lived my life surrounded by heroes.
No matter where we come from, we have wonder in our eyes and joy in our hearts and that wonder and joy must be cherished and protected. Even if it means learning by rote and worshipping comic book heroes.
Read more: Through the Eyes of a Child - From Cane Fields to Comic Books
June is Gay Pride Month. Flags fly, parades roll out, corporations update their logos, and the media hums with celebration.
But here’s a question no one seems brave enough to ask: Where’s Bloke Month?
Where’s the month for the men who get up every day, go to work, fix what’s broken, say little, and keep the world turning? The men who aren’t glamorous or loud or “reinventing masculinity” - but who hold families together, protect what matters, and do it all without demanding applause?
While the noise grows louder for some, a quiet silence has fallen over others.... the kind of men who don’t march, don’t shout, and don’t beg for recognition. They just show up. They build, they protect, they endure.
No one’s throwing them a parade.
And maybe, just maybe, it’s time to ask: What happens to a society that forgets the value of its men?
They’re invisible. Uncelebrated. Sometimes even vilified. Maybe we need to think about this.....
Read more: Nostalgia Induced Amnesia - there is a lot of it about these days
Read more: Pine Gap’s Gaza Puzzle: Whiskers McNibble Squeaks the Truth
When I was sixteen, I sneaked ( or is it snuck?) into a theatre to watch a film that would stay with me for life. I was only 16 but I pretended to be 18. My older brother took me. He was good like that. He knew I would see it and felt it was better to do so under his watchful eye.
Stanley Kubrick's A Clockwork Orange wasn’t just a film - it was a visceral, unforgettable encounter. What struck me wasn’t just the graphic violence. It was the contrast: the lilting beauty of Beethoven soaring over acts of sheer horror. The delight of Alex and his gang in depravity, paired with the elegance of music, made it more disturbing, not less. It showed me something then that I would come to understand only more fully with age: evil often wears the mask of culture, refinement, even charm. I was quite upset when we left the theatre. My brother said: " Don't watch things because they sound exciting unless you are ready. " And he was right. I was too young, But in many ways, I am glad I went to see that film when I did. It opened my eyes.
That thought returned to me recently, talking with Redhead, who turned 93 yesterday. Our conversation turned to today’s moral blindness, especially around the events of October 7 and the current violence in cities like Paris, Los Angeles, Melbourne, the list goes on. So many now shout "Free Palestine" with passion, but refuse to watch, even acknowledge, the brutality Hamas unleashed that day. Murder, rape, beheadings, the deliberate targeting of civilians. It was not resistance - it was terror. And yet, some people actively look away.
Like young Greta Thunberg.who refused to look. To watch. Thank goodness I opened my eyes when I did......
Read more: The Choice Before Us: A Clockwork Orange, Riots, or the New Nuremberg
The show takes a look at the horror that emerges when people are allowed to make anonymous decisions as part of a crowd.
It caused a degree of shock and horror at the time and was designed to show us how being anonymous in a crowd can, in his words, “turn perfectly nice people into internet bullies, or rioters, or hooligans”.
I am proud to pay tribute to a testimony to the power of coal. If a grand old lady of over 100 years can still stand with coal power in a world seemingly obsessed with renewables I have to say this: try running her on wind power or solar panels. Or looking for a big enough power point to plug her into each night. She works 14 hours a day in the summer months when the days are long and there is always a brisk breeze on Lake Wakatipu but she still thrives on Coal.
Anyone who has ever visited the beautiful town of Queenstown in New Zealand, will know the sight of the steamship Earnslaw.
The TSS Earnslaw is an integral part of Queenstown’s pioneering history and to this day a Queenstown icon. She was commissioned by New Zealand Railways to service the communities around Lake Wakatipu. Launched in the same year as the Titanic, the TSS Earnslaw’s maiden voyage was on 18 October 1912.
And this grand old lady runs on something that is demonised today - hard back-breaking work and coal.
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