It began quietly.
No headlines. No protests. Just a story... odd, intriguing, almost heartwarming. I clicked play on a documentary expecting nothing more than a curious tale of coincidence. Strangers, reunited. Laughter, amazement, and hugs.
But by the end, I was sitting in stunned silence.
The deeper truth behind their reunion wasn’t joyful.
It was horrifying.
It unraveled something in me.
And once I saw it, I couldn't unsee it .... not just in their lives, but in the world around me.
Read more: The Experiment: A Reflection on Deception, Loss, and the Testing of Our Humanity
In May 1942, as Japanese forces surged southward across the Pacific, Australia stood on the brink.
With the threat of invasion looming and the port of Moresby in enemy sights, the nation held its breath. What followed in the waters of the Coral Sea was a battle unlike any before - fought not by dueling battleships, but by aircraft launched from distant carriers. In a high-stakes clash that changed the course of the Pacific War, Australian and American forces turned back the tide.
The Battle of the Coral Sea wasn’t just a military engagement; it was a moment when Australia’s fate hung in the balance, and the Allies stood firm.The Battle of the Coral Sea is regarded by some as the action that saved Australia in WW2.
Read more: The Days when Australia Held Its Breath: The Battle of the Coral Sea
When a nation loses its voice, it turns to memory.
In these strange days, when truth feels rationed, pride is punished, and we’re told to smile through the shambles, we look not to politicians, but to each other. This isn’t just a letter. It’s a lifeline, thrown from the heart of ordinary Australia to anyone still listening. If you’ve ever felt like a stranger in your own country, then maybe, just maybe, this was written for you.
We’re writing to you from the gutter. Not because we’ve lost who we are, but because we’ve been kicked here. Kicked by smooth-talking suit-wearers with global dreams and no backyard roots. While they toast each other in parliament and overseas palaces, we’re left staring at the price tags in the supermarket and wondering when Australia became a parody of itself.
Read more: A Letter to the Spirit of Australia: From the Gutter, With Love
In an era where technology dictates much of our daily lives, algorithms have become the unseen force steering everything from the power flowing through electrical substations to the posts we scroll through on social media. Or even how we may be persuaded to vote.
These complex yet often hidden formulas... used for everything from balancing power grids to deciding what content we see... are more than just calculations; they are the modern-day decision-makers.
But what exactly are algorithms, how have they evolved, and why do we need both the precision of machines and the wisdom of human judgment to ensure they serve us best?
That is the question I wanted to answer and here is how it all started with a chance chat with my Mum...
Read more: From Power Grids to Elections: How Algorithms Shape Our World
When you cast your vote, you’re not just selecting a candidate; you’re choosing the kind of country we’ll wake up to on Sunday. This election isn’t about party colours or slick slogans - it’s about truth, trust, and the very soul of Australia.
If you’re tired of being lied to, sidelined, or treated like a spectator in OUR own nation’s story, then show up and vote with conviction.
Because if we don’t draw the line now, someone else will draw it for us .... and it won’t be in our favour.
Tomorrow, we do more than mark a box, we mark a moment. A moment when distraction, deflection, and spin must finally give way to truth, consequence, and courage.
Our forebears fought for it. We were raised to believe in it. But tomorrow .... are we going to give Australia away without even realising the gravity?
Read more: Draw the Line: Tomorrow Is Not Just a Vote - It’s a Reckoning
When news broke that Australia had declared war on New Zealand, most assumed it was a rugby metaphor or a lamington mishap. But beneath the flying pies, rogue kangaroos, and heroic cats with cardboard radios lies something deeper, a rumbling reminder that mateship isn’t just for ANZAC Day.
In this exclusive Ratty News dispatch, War Correspondent Lance Corporal 'Muttley' McBark reports from the frontlines of the most ridiculous conflict never fought… and why it might matter more than we think.
Read more: The ANZACs Return (Sort Of): Why a Fake War Might Be the Wake-Up We Need
Beneath the swaying trees and the green grass of Norfolk Island lies a brutal chapter of colonial history few tourists suspect.
Once dubbed "the most hellish place in the British Empire," this remote outpost in the South Pacific served as a penal settlement so feared that its name alone chilled convicts sent from the Australian mainland.
From its inception as a dumping ground for the "worst of the worst," to its eventual closure amid growing public horror, Norfolk Island was a place where punishment eclipsed rehabilitation, and where paradise masked a legacy of cruelty, resistance, and endurance.
Read more: Hell on Earth: The Dark Legacy of Norfolk Island’s Penal Past
In a world that seems determined to teach us to hate our countries, I remember something different. I remember gratitude.
I remember becoming Australian, not by rejecting my birth, but by embracing the land that raised me with open arms. This is my story, and my hope for others who still believe in loving the mother who gave us a future and gave us a life that has been so wonderful.
Had I only ever been taught to celebrate my “difference”: had I never been taught to embrace the warmth of my new homeland , I would have missed out on a life filled with belonging, love, and pride.
Australia hugged me 68 years ago, and she has never let me go.
Read more: The Dance of Belonging: A Migrant’s Love Letter to Australia
By Roderick (Whiskers) McNibble
In a stunning turn of events, Peter “Cooker” Fookit - who had no prior political experience and a name that could easily have been mistaken for a typo - has emerged victorious in the most unexpected electoral victory of the century. But how did this political newcomer manage to overthrow the political titans, Anthony Albanese and Peter Dutton? This unexpected outcome has left political analysts and citizens alike reeling, as the nation anticipates the direction Fookit's leadership will take.
Simple: it was all in the name.
At first, no one quite took Fookit seriously. After all, with Albanese and Dutton dominating the news cycle, Fookit seemed like an afterthought - until his name began to echo across the nation like an insistent drumbeat.
"Fookit, Fookit, Fookit!" started as frustrated voters said his name, dreamt his name and, like a magic incantation, it wormed its way into the national consciousness.
For nearly three decades, the Port Arthur Massacre has been remembered as Australia's darkest day .... a moment of unspeakable horror that reshaped our nation overnight.
But beneath the official narrative, buried under layers of media hysteria and political opportunism, lies a web of unanswered questions. As we mark another anniversary, it is time .... past time.... to ask:
Were we told the full truth? Or did our shock and grief become the perfect cover for a plan that changed Australia forever?
Before we surrendered our guns, we surrendered the truth.
Read more: Port Arthur: The Questions We Were Never Allowed to Ask
Who pays the Ferryman? In the old myths, no soul crossed the river Styx without an offering. Today, we often leap without looking, ignoring the toll collector at the edge of the water.
But the crossing always has its cost, whether we pay it, or someone else does. Our current governments have a habit of knowing the price of everything and the value of nothing. We are ruled by algorithms and announcements. But we are human - and humans live in the cost.
Wars are dissected by body counts and budgets. Policies are passed with a calculator, and lives are led under a spreadsheet. We know the price of everything. But who still speaks of cost?
Price is clean. Price fits in a column. Price is what politicians debate and treasurers announce.
But cost ? Cost is borne. Cost is lived. Cost is the long, quiet aftermath. And that of course beggars the question: where is the value?
Read more: Who Pays the Ferryman the price of the ticket? Price? Cost? Value?
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