In a time when truth gets fact-checked to death, rewritten, or quietly buried, it’s worth remembering that some facts still matter — and some warnings should still be heeded. Before memes and podcasts and viral tweets, there was a man on a horse shouting into the night. His name was Paul Revere, and what he said wasn’t popular — but it was true.
The question now is: do we still listen when the bell rings? How many warnings have fallen on deaf ears, dismissed as “conspiracy theories,” only to be proven true too late?
Around the world, voices of caution are often silenced — but every so often, someone rises whose alarm changes everything. But there was so much more to this man.
Paul Revere was a man of many talents.
Read more: Paul Revere - The Man Behind the Legend
From spark plugs to blockchains – decoding the energy behind the future - It’s not about money. It’s about electricity — and who gets left in the dark.
What are AI and Bitcoin really telling us about power, survival, and the future of wealth?
For those of us who grew up with rotary phones, spark plugs, and a sturdy sense of value, the idea of “digital money” and AI thinking for itself sounds like a cartoon.
But look deeper — and you’ll see it’s not just about currency.
It’s about current.
Read more: Electricity Is the New Gold — And Crypto Just Blew the Whistle
By Roderick (Whiskers) McNibble, Investigative Laundrologist
Dusty Gulch, 2025 – In a world where truth is hung out to dry and speech is tumble-dried into compliance, the Dusty Gulch branch of the Country Women’s Association has had enough. Armed with pegs, petticoats, and an encrypted washboard, they’ve launched a daring resistance movement - one laundry tip at a time.
Leading the charge is none other than Dorothy “Dot” Snellgrove, president of the Dusty Gulch CWA and former codebreaker for the local Bingo Association. “If you can’t say it outright,” she says, “embroider it on a tea towel.”
Dusty Gulch Tavern regular until he was caught with an air trumpet in his left boot, Benedict “Bruiser” Arnold (local roo shooter and enemy of Mayor Dusty McFookit ) claims he was only “documenting local sock sorting techniques for the Pentagon and helping out with hearing aids.” CWA sources allege he was attempting to livestream Doris McLintock’s sheet folding strategy. Local Cop Bushie McBush said investigations were ongoing and local emus were helping with enquiries.
Read more: “Whiter Than White Lies: CWA Ladies Take a Stand ”
They say history repeats. But sometimes, it just whispers.
In an age where speech is filtered, flagged, and fact-checked into oblivion, it’s tempting to believe that coded language and satire are inventions of the digital era - tools for cheeky rebels with clever usernames. But those tools are old. Very old.
So old, in fact, that George Washington used them.
Before America had a constitution, it had a codebook. And when words were dangerous, the wise didn’t shout - they signaled.
Let’s set the scene: 1778. New York is crawling with British troops, spies, and snitches. The city is a redcoat stronghold, and every letter, tavern whisper, and knock at the door could bring trouble.
In steps George Washington, not just general, but the architect of America’s first covert intelligence network, the Culper Ring.
Read more: Before America had a constitution, it had a codebook.
When I tell people I’m a beek, inevitably the first thing they say is, “Yes, we need to save the bees! They’re very important!”. While totally true, it is a noble statement that I cannot claim. I was dragged into beekeeping, kicking and screaming… well almost.
When people say, “We need to save the bees,” they usually imagine someone passionate, fearless, and purpose-driven in a white veil suit.
That wasn’t me. I didn’t plan to become a beekeeper—in fact, I was dragged into it by necessity, not nature.
What began as a practical solution to a tax issue soon turned into something much more: a lesson in courage, humility, and the quiet brilliance of life inside the hive.
Read more: Bee Brave, Bee Calm, Bee Thankful: Lessons from an Accidental Beekeeper
When we look back at history, we often speak of "the old wise men" who shaped nations, led armies, or wrote the words that defined generations. But dig deeper, and you'll find something remarkable: many of those wise men weren't old at all.
Because wisdom, it turns out, doesn’t wear a watch.
It doesn’t follow birthdays or wait for retirement.
It comes to those willing to seek it, to shoulder its burden, and to speak its truth.... even if their voice shakes, or cracks, or hasn’t broken yet.
Wisdom isn’t born with age: it’s forged through experience, reflection, conviction, and humility. And passion.
Read more: Wisdom Doesn’t Wear a Watch - and It Doesn’t Come with a Birth Certificate
When dreams turn to infrastructure, who controls the future above us?
In 1957, a lonely beep from space sparked a boy’s dream to build rockets and reach for the stars.
Today, the sky above us is buzzing with thousands of satellites - mostly owned by private companies, controlled by a handful of powerful players, and watched over by governments that now depend on them more than ever.
But what does it mean when the line between public power and private control blurs?
Who really owns the sky - and what happens when that control slips beyond the hands of elected leaders?
Read more: From Sputnik to Starlink — The Sky’s Not the Limit — It’s the Battleground
Without a genuine love for our forbears, how can we truly love - or even live - our lives today? I asked that question about a year ago, and that question has stayed with me. And it’s what prompted this reflection.
We must return to honouring everything we have earned and learned and teaching our young to learn from the past in order to build a future worth living in.
I began writing this to honour our war dead. I thought I was writing about cemeteries. But somewhere along the way, I realised I wasn’t writing about death at all...I was writing about neglect. Not of the past, but of the present. Not of sacrifice, but of silence.
Because in Australia today, it seems death is the only guarantee of honour. A soldier can serve, suffer, and survive, and be forgotten. A citizen can contribute a lifetime of work, and be priced out of their own home. A community can build and endure, and be buried under red tape.
But die in uniform? We’ll build a monument. We’ll send flowers. We’ll clean the stone every year without fail.
So I ask you: When did honour become posthumous? When did life become less worthy than death? And is the True Blue Australia we once knew - quietly proud, fiercely fair - already lying in a forgotten grave?
They didn’t storm the gates. They waited.
While revolutionaries burned flags and shouted in the streets, the Fabians took tea in drawing rooms and quietly rewrote the future.
Their strategy was never chaos, but patience - the slow march through institutions.
Today, as yet another Western leader swears allegiance to their vision, we might ask: how much of our modern world was designed not by accident, nor democracy, but by deliberate, gradual engineering?
And what remains of the civilisation they sought to replace?
By Roderick (Whiskers) McNibble, Chief Correspondent, Fence-Sitter, and Eyewitness to History
When the world teetered on the brink of disaster, and diplomacy floundered in the hands of Mr Magoo and Plenty Wrong, it wasn't Canberra, NATO, or the United Nations that answered the call. It was ducks.
Operating under the banner of Ratty News, Duck Intelligence launched the most bizarre and effective peacekeeping mission in modern times.
In what is being hailed as “the most coordinated bathroom-based airstrike in military history,”
Ratty News can now confirm the details of a daring mission carried out by cybernetic ducks, an orange-painted B-2 stealth bomber, and a Trojan Duck disguised as a halal-questionable pizza.
All of it launched from a humble hangar just down the red dirt road from Pine Gap.
Read more: Rat Cunning and the Trojan Duck: The Strike that Flushed a Regime
I lost my cat a few years ago. She wasn’t just a pet. She was my sounding board. My companion. My silent ally. For twelve years, she listened without ever interrupting, rolled on her tummy without judgment, and knew when to stay and when to stay closer. When she passed, something went quiet in me too.
This morning, my Mum - 93 and still sharp as a splinter - said something that stopped me.
"Maybe that’s why people love their cats and dogs," she said. "Because they don’t talk back. They don’t betray."
And that was it. The start of something I didn’t know I was writing: not an article about AI, or censorship, or ducks in disguise (though there were ducks) ... but about connection. About trust. About what we used to give our children, and what we no longer do.
Read more: Teddy and Tabby, Not Tablet: What has been forgotten for today's kids
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