Knees Up, Feathers Down: Trevor the Wallaby and the Great Knee Caper of Dusty Gulch
By Roderick (Whiskers) McNibble - Rodent Correspondent-at-Large
Dusty Dingo Pub, beneath the third wobbly table near the dartboard
They came honking across the border like confused geese with diplomatic passports - the Honklanders - promising “unity,” “transparency,” and other words that look good on bumper stickers.
But every invasion brings a surprise. In Dusty Gulch, the first loose thread was Trevor's knees and his missing joints. Tug at it, and suddenly masks slip, Pigooses squeal, and an entire empire of deception begins to unravel.
And that, dear reader, is where your humble rodent correspondent picks up the scent…
By Roderick (Whiskers) McNibble - Rodent Correspondent-at-Large
January 7, 2026
Ah, dear readers - it’s me, Roderick “Whiskers” McNibble, scurrying back from the cheese cellar with the latest scoop on this icy saga. My whiskers have been twitching overtime, and not just because the Dusty Dingo Pub hasn’t cleaned behind the fireplace since 1994.
Yesterday - mark it down - the Big Orange Cheese himself doubled down harder than a walrus on thin ice.
Fresh from that Venezuelan escapade - where U.S. forces swooped in like a bald eagle on a " defenseless " fish and nabbed Maduro - President Trump leapt aboard Air Force One and declared:
“We need Greenland from the standpoint of national security!”
He even grumbled that Denmark isn’t pulling its weight, adding only “one more dog sled” to Arctic defense.
Read more: Start with the Moon, Settle for the Spare Room with a View
When you control the currency everyone must use, you don’t need tanks on every border - the money does the conquering for you.. Back in 2021, I argued that money doesn’t just grease the gears of civilisation - it controls them. Not just any money, either. Real money. The kind measured in ounces, not printed in truckloads.
I warned that the global system’s crown jewel was the petrodollar: the rule that oil could only be traded in US dollars. That arrangement kept America king of the hill, let Washington run giant deficits without collapsing, and ensured that the rest of the world would toe the line.
Mess with that system, and you get a lesson. Saddam Hussein tried to sell his oil in euros. Muammar Gaddafi floated a gold-backed dinar. Both ended up out of the picture - permanently.
I wrote back then that if the world ever moved back toward real value - gold instead of IOUs - the whole fiat charade would be exposed.
Well, here we are. And the cracks are turning into chasms.
From Floppy Disks to the Cyber Monster: How the Internet Changed Us
It all really began with my boys in the basement.
I didn’t know them, not properly. There was no glossy “About Us” page, no mission statement written by a marketing department, no stock photos of smiling executives with their arms folded. Just a small overseas outfit that felt as though a handful of clever young blokes had commandeered a few servers, plugged them in somewhere underground, and decided to see what they could build.
They answered emails. Actual emails. If something broke, someone fixed it. If you had a problem, you weren’t funnelled into a system...you spoke to a person. Even then, I sensed it mattered that there were names at the other end, not departments. That if something went wrong, responsibility lived somewhere human.
You weren’t funnelled into a system - you spoke to a person.
At the time, it didn’t feel remarkable. It was simply how things were.
The internet itself felt like that too.
Read more: From Floppy Disks to the Cyber Monster: How the Internet Changed Us
It is one of the great temptations of modern geopolitics: to stare at the latest crisis while a dozen others quietly simmer in the background.
Right now, Venezuela dominates headlines for many in the West - and I understand why.
Energy security, regional instability, great‑power manoeuvring and ideological fault lines all collide there. But while eyes are drawn westward, other flashpoints remain very much on the boil, and among the most dangerous of them is South Asia.
Kashmir did not cool simply because attention drifted.
When this article was first written in late 2024, the argument was straightforward:
Kashmir is not merely a territorial dispute between India and Pakistan, but a pressure point where history, religion, water security, nuclear deterrence and regional alliances converge.
That assessment has not weakened. It has hardened.
Read more: Kashmir Still on the Boil – Why the World Cannot Afford Distraction
As 2026 stumbles out of the gate, we’re told not to panic. Nothing to see here. Just the United States announcing that American forces will temporarily run the country.
Temporarily, of course. That word has an impressive history.
The problem with pretending the world is rules-based is that eventually someone stops pretending. The U.S. seizure of Venezuela isn’t just a regional intervention - it’s a declaration that the polite fictions of global diplomacy have expired. What follows won’t stay neatly contained in South America.
President Trump justified the move on narco-terrorism, election interference, and the need to secure Venezuela’s oil. Fair enough - if you accept that the world’s largest proven oil reserves just happen to sit beneath one of the most corrupt regimes on earth, and Washington suddenly developed a conscience.- China, unsurprisingly, is furious. Sovereignty, international law, all that jazz. Beijing is very big on sovereignty - particularly other people’s.
But if you think this is just about Venezuela, you’re missing the point entirely.
This isn’t a one-off. It’s a signal flare.
There are moments in history when telling the truth plainly becomes dangerous - not because the truth has changed, but because power has decided it must be controlled.
We like to believe those moments belong to distant lands or darker eras, ruled by uniforms and jackboots. Yet they have a habit of returning dressed in softer language, justified by good intentions, and enforced not with rifles but regulations. When authorities begin deciding what may be said “for the common good,” truth does not vanish. It adapts. It learns to move quietly. It hides.
America learned this lesson during World War II, when one of its most decisive weapons was not forged from steel, but from language.
In 1942, as the war in the Pacific raged and Japanese codebreakers proved alarmingly adept, the United States turned to an unlikely solution: young Navajo Marines, speaking an ancient, complex language that outsiders neither understood nor respected.
As a child, we spent our Christmas holidays at a remote coastal sheep farm in New Zealand. We didn’t know those moments were precious at the time. We only know now, because they are rarer.
The memories that made us were not accidents. They were given - by parents, communities, and a world that allowed time to linger. If we want the next generation to stand firm, they will need memories of their own to stand on.
A culture that no longer remembers how it grew struggles to know what it should protect.
And so I found myself heading down memory lane to a time that I still cherish over 60 years later.
Dusty Gulch has always prided itself on being hard to surprise.
It has survived droughts, dubious leadership initiatives, interpretive art installations, and at least three “temporary” committees that never went away. Yet even by local standards, the recent arrival of Honklans from the desert realm of Hoklanistan has been… noticeable.
The Honklans first appeared following the invitation of Prentis Penjani, who described the initial Pigoose hybrid as “a cultural ambassador with excellent posture.” At the time, few suspected that one bird would soon become many.
Read more: Field Report Part One: The Beginning: When It All Looked Innocent
I recently watched a film called United, based on the true and tragic story of the Manchester United team lost in the Munich air disaster of 1958. It is a story many people think they know - young men, enormous promise, sudden catastrophe - but what struck me was not the crash itself. It was what followed.
In the aftermath of tragedy, Manchester United rebuilt not through optimism, but through unity of purpose. Today, in a world where everything has become political and division is quietly encouraged, that lesson feels more confronting than ever. This New Year, the question is not whether we agree - but whether we are still willing to stand together.
Those who survived did not rebuild because they were cheerful, or optimistic, or untouched by grief. They rebuilt because they understood something that seems almost foreign to us now: that when loss comes - and it always does - the only way forward is together.
That is what makes the film so confronting today.
Because we are not united.
Read more: Dreamers, Witch Hunts, and Dangerous Enemies: From Preston Tucker to Elon Musk
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