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.
It’s a shame we must hide truth in jest... but it’s also a form of defiance. And I’m proud to keep squeaking as Roderick would say.
This idea isn’t new. Back in the American Revolution, a Patriot named Anna Strong hung laundry on her clothesline in cunning patterns, a black petticoat and two handkerchiefs...to signal to spies when it was safe to pass secrets under the noses of the Redcoats. A simple code. Washing to some, resistance to others.
I used to be bold like that. I’d sprinkle my posts with hot-button words - “government overreach,” “cultural rot” - to stir the pot in the internet’s town square. But after the hacks, I’ve wondered.... Maybe I should sidestep the words that draw fire. Perhaps a whisper now.
Satire has become my clothesline. It lets truth flap in the breeze, visible only to those who know how to read it.
Roderick (Whiskers) McNibble - the bushrat bard from Ratty News on Patriotrealm.com - gets it. He doesn’t bark headlines. He spins stories. Ministers munching gnocchi in church. Secret deals hidden under Akubras. And our latest latest yarn, “The Hat, the Betrayal and the Bush That Remembers,” our new friend ( Ernest ‘Ember’ McTail, Special Correspondent. Serious News Division of Ratty News ) mourns the ANZAC slouch hat while jabbing at Canberra’s betrayal of it.
Roderick (Whiskers) McNibble doesn’t shout “corruption.” He squeaks it. He hangs his critique like a black petticoat on a line...quiet enough to slip past digital Redcoats, but clear to the mob who nod at his nudge.
It’s why his readers, and mine, keep coming back. We’re starved for truth. But we know the cost of saying it too plainly. Just ask my website.
Even big names aren’t spared. Trump’s site was hacked in 2021, splattered with pro-Erdogan rants. Independent bloggers in Singapore have been targeted just for existing. A whisper,if it rings too true,can spark venom.
That’s why satire matters. It lets us whisper louder.
The Babylon Bee knows this. Their absurd headlines sting because they’re not just jokes - they’re code. They speak truths we no longer dare to say outright, lest we get shadowbanned, deplatformed, or hacked.
We shouldn’t have to speak in riddles. In a free world, I’d write without glancing over my shoulder, and you’d comment without fear of being tracked. But we’re not in that world. We’re in a digital battlefield, and satire is survival.
The hackers didn’t just vandalise a site. They tried to erase a community. They wiped readers’ stories. They wiped my father's voice and kicked me in the guts. Fortunately Redhead has the music on CD and I have some on my computer but what bastard would delete a collection of music? Memories? Who does that sort of thing?
That’s how low the bar has sunk. A few hundred readers, and someone still thought I was dangerous enough to silence.
But I’m not quitting.
Every hack, every veiled post, every squeak is a middle finger to those who’d shut us up. Satire isn’t just a shield - it’s a slingshot.
And we’re all Davids, aiming at the Goliath of control.
My readers get it...battlers, dreamers, crusty old codgers.We leave stories of our own coded fights. Together, we’re a mob of whisperers, keeping truth alive like embers after the bushfire.
Anna Strong’s clothesline worked because it was clever and quiet. Ours must be too. Whiskers’ bushrat tales, The Bee’s zingers,,, they’re our modern parables. They hide wisdom in humour. They let us nod while the censors scratch their heads.
So here’s my plea: Lean into satire. Read Ratty News. Laugh with The Babylon Bee. Share your own coded parables in our comments.
Let’s keep the clothesline flapping, quiet, clever, unbroken.
Because in a hacked world, a laugh can carry further than a shout. And truth, however veiled, is still truth.
So squeak with me.
We’re still here. We’re still fighting.
However, I have changed the name of the site. While patriotrealm.com will still exist, I have registered a new domain name theprblog.com and all future posts will be made on this. Bookmarks will still work but it should hopefully allow us to be less conspicuous to those who are uncomfortabnle with the word patriot. Our message is still the same, but it is worth consideration: It is all in the name, isn't it? So just bear with me as I sort the changeover. Rest assured, it is just a name. Hopefully, it will keep the shitheads off my back. And yours.
Monty
