The news broke quietly, almost like the government hoped we wouldn’t notice until it was too late. Come December, Australians will need to verify their age to access adult content online. The eSafety Commissioner’s office frames it as protecting children, but scratch beneath the surface and you’ll find a privacy nightmare that would make George Orwell reach for his laptop.

Reading through the discussions online, it’s clear I’m not alone in feeling deeply uncomfortable about this entire scheme. The technical realities are stark - major sites like Pornhub have already started geo-blocking entire regions rather than deal with age verification requirements. They did it in Texas, they’ll do it here. We’re not special enough to warrant custom compliance systems.

There’s been a lot of chatter online lately about Australia being a “wealthy country in gentle decline,” and honestly, it’s got me thinking about how we’ve managed to sleepwalk our way into some pretty serious structural problems while patting ourselves on the back for being the “lucky country.”

The irony isn’t lost on me that Donald Horne’s original “lucky country” quote was actually a criticism, not a compliment. He was calling us out for being “run mainly by second rate people who share its luck” and for lacking curiosity about the world around us. Fifty years later, and we’re still coasting on that luck while the foundations crumble beneath us.

I’ve been watching the debate around the “March for Australia” unfold online over the past few days, and frankly, it’s left me both frustrated and deeply concerned about where we’re heading as a society. What started as people asking legitimate questions about the march’s organisers has devolved into the usual online shouting match, with some folks demanding “concrete evidence” while others point to what seems pretty bloody obvious if you just scratch the surface.

The discussion around tax reform has been heating up lately, and frankly, it’s about bloody time. When you hear that 91 people earning over a million dollars paid absolutely zero income tax last financial year, something’s clearly broken in the system. Not bent - broken.

What really gets my goat isn’t necessarily that these ultra-wealthy individuals are breaking the law. Most aren’t. They’re just playing a game where the rules are so skewed in their favour that the rest of us are left wondering how we ended up with such a wonky system in the first place. It’s like watching someone win at Monopoly because they convinced everyone else that collecting $200 for passing Go only applies to properties they don’t own.

The Shovel got me again. There I was, scrolling through my feed when I saw the headline “Great Barrier Reef ‘Not White Enough’ Pauline Hanson Says” and for a split second – just a split second – I thought it might be real. That’s the problem with living in 2024 Australia, isn’t it? The line between satire and reality has become so blurred that we genuinely can’t tell the difference anymore.

The property investment debate has reared its head again, and frankly, it’s about time. The Parliamentary Budget Office recently dropped some numbers that have got everyone talking: 80% of capital gains tax discount benefits flow to the top 10% of earners, while 60% of negative gearing benefits go to the top 20%. When you put it like that, it’s pretty stark, isn’t it?

What’s fascinating is watching the responses unfold online. There’s this persistent narrative that any changes to negative gearing would devastate mum-and-dad investors, but the reality seems far more nuanced. One user made an excellent point about how properties naturally become more positively geared over time, meaning established investors with multiple properties would largely be unaffected by changes. It’s really the high-income earners buying expensive coastal properties with terrible rental yields who’d feel the pinch – and honestly, that doesn’t sound like such a tragedy.

The 20% HECS reduction bill has passed, and boy, has it stirred up a hornets’ nest of emotions across the country. Scrolling through the discussions online, I’ve been struck by the sheer intensity of feeling on both sides – from genuine relief and gratitude to bitter resentment and accusations of unfairness.

What fascinates me most isn’t the policy itself, but the visceral reactions it’s provoked. There’s something deeply revealing about how we respond when we see others receive help that we didn’t get ourselves.

The internet’s having a field day with the idea of trading Scott Morrison for American beef imports, and honestly, I can see why the joke landed so well. There’s something deliciously absurd about the premise that feels very Australian – we’ll take your dodgy beef if you take our dodgy ex-PM. Fair dinkum trade if you ask me.

But beneath the laughs, there’s a genuine conversation happening about food security, consumer choice, and what we’re willing to put on our plates. The reality is that Australia has lifted restrictions on US beef imports after years of review, and it’s got people fired up about everything from hormone treatments to country-of-origin labeling.

There’s something deeply satisfying about seeing developers grumble about Victoria while simultaneously watching our state outperform the rest of Australia on housing delivery. Call it schadenfreude if you like, but when property developers are complaining about a jurisdiction, there’s a decent chance that jurisdiction is actually prioritising people over profit margins.

The numbers tell a compelling story. Victoria is building 2.2 homes per 1000 people each quarter, compared to the national average of 1.6. We’re on track to hit 98% of our national housing target while NSW languishes at 65%. Melbourne house prices have flatlined while Sydney, Brisbane, and Canberra have shot through the roof. Yet developers are apparently telling each other “ABV” - Anywhere But Victoria.

I’ve been following the debate around Jim Chalmers’s proposed superannuation reforms with fascination, particularly the story about farmers supposedly “scrambling for answers” when faced with the prospect of paying more tax on their multi-million dollar super balances. The more I dig into this, the more it becomes clear we’re witnessing the death throes of what can only be described as a spectacular tax rort.

Let’s cut through the noise here. The ABC story features a farming family with a combined super balance of $5.5 million who are upset they might have to pay an extra $120,000 in tax annually. But here’s the kicker - if they’re paying $120,000 in tax, they’re making over a million dollars a year through their super fund. And they’re complaining about this?

The latest revelations about Scott Morrison’s tenure as Prime Minister continue to paint an increasingly disturbing picture of his leadership. Documents have emerged showing he sought advice to prevent asylum seekers on Nauru from accessing abortions - a move that perfectly encapsulates the troubling intersection of personal religious beliefs and public policy that defined his time in office.

Reading through these documents, I’m struck by the calculated cruelty of it all. Here was a leader who wasn’t content with merely maintaining the already harsh offshore detention system - he actively sought ways to make life more difficult for some of the most vulnerable people under his government’s care.

The recent by-election results have sparked an interesting phenomenon where satirical news outlets are delivering more accurate reporting than certain mainstream media channels. Sitting here in my home office, watching the aftermath unfold on various platforms, it’s both amusing and concerning to see how far some news outlets have drifted from reality.

Remember when news was about reporting facts rather than manufacturing outrage? These days, certain media outlets seem more interested in importing American culture wars than discussing actual Australian issues. They’re busy stoking fears about phantom threats while real concerns like housing affordability and climate change affect our daily lives.

The recent announcement about the 20% HECS debt reduction has sparked quite a discussion online, and honestly, it’s about time we saw some positive movement on student debt relief. The government’s commitment to introduce this as their first piece of legislation when Parliament returns in July 2025 is promising, though the cynic in me can’t help but notice the timing conveniently aligns with the election cycle.

Looking at the details, the reduction will be calculated based on debt amounts as of June 1, 2025, before indexation kicks in. The timing here is interesting - Parliament won’t sit again until after the ATO applies the annual indexation, which means there’s going to be a bit of a wait before anyone sees the actual reduction in their accounts.

The latest headlines about Barnaby Joyce being found sprawled between the Liberal and National Party rooms have sparked quite the discussion online, and honestly, it’s hard not to see the political satire writing itself. While the incident might be concerning from a welfare perspective, it’s also a perfect metaphor for the current state of conservative politics in Australia.

The coalition’s relationship status has definitely moved from “it’s complicated” to “seeing other people.” Remember those awkward high school breakups where neither party knows how to act around each other? That’s essentially what we’re witnessing in Parliament House right now, except with much higher stakes and significantly more expensive suits.

The recent election sweep by Labor has sparked an interesting discussion about young male voters in Australia bucking global trends. While headlines abroad paint a picture of young men being increasingly drawn to far-right ideologies and figures like Andrew Tate, something different seems to be happening here.

Our compulsory voting system deserves much of the credit. When everyone has to vote, the voice of any extreme minority gets naturally diluted. It’s not about who you can rile up enough to show up at the polls – it’s about appealing to the broader community. This forces political parties to stay relatively centered rather than catering to the extremes.

Tonight marked the end of an era in Australian democracy. Watching Antony Green’s final election coverage brought a lump to my throat, especially seeing him awkwardly clutching those flowers and admitting he didn’t own a vase. It was a perfect encapsulation of the man who has been the steady hand guiding us through election nights for over three decades.

Most viewers only see the polished presenter explaining complex electoral data with his trademark touchscreen and calm demeanor. But behind that familiar face lies an extraordinary legacy of innovation and dedication. When Green started in 1989, election counting involved rooms full of people manually tallying votes via telephone. He revolutionized the process by developing software systems that transformed Australian electoral coverage into the efficient, transparent process we know today.

The recent call by Peter Dutton telling his supporters to ignore certain media outlets rings eerily familiar bells. Standing at a podium, directing followers to disregard specific news sources while promoting others feels like a carbon copy of political tactics we’ve witnessed overseas - and not in a good way.

Living in the digital age means we have unprecedented access to diverse news sources. The ABC, The Guardian, and other independent outlets play crucial roles in our media landscape, providing necessary counterpoints to the dominant commercial narratives. When a political leader actively discourages engagement with these sources, it should concern every citizen who values democratic discourse.

The internet never forgets, and it certainly has a way of catching out politicians who haven’t quite mastered the art of social media. Today’s serving of political comedy comes from the Young Nationals, who seem to have taken a page from the “How Not to Use Social Media” handbook by accidentally praising themselves from their own account.

This gaffe immediately reminded me of similar incidents we’ve seen before, including that memorable moment when another politician congratulated himself on Facebook. It’s like watching someone trip over their own shoelaces – embarrassing, but you can’t look away.

The announcement of Labor’s $2.3 billion home battery subsidy scheme has sparked intense discussions across various forums. While many homeowners are celebrating the prospect of more affordable energy storage solutions, there’s a deeper conversation we need to have about equity and access in our transition to renewable energy.

Looking through the comments and discussions online, there’s clear excitement from homeowners who’ve been waiting for this kind of initiative. Many report significant benefits from existing battery installations - from near-zero power bills to maintaining power during outages. The technology clearly works, and works well.

Reading through recent discussions about Australia’s “lost decade” of wage growth has stirred up some deeply troubling thoughts. The latest research from Per Capita think-tank paints a stark picture of how the 2012-2022 period of wage stagnation has fundamentally altered the Australian dream of home ownership.

The numbers tell a devastating story, but they barely scratch the surface of what this means for real people. My daughter, now in her teens, often talks about her future, and I find myself struggling to give her honest answers about housing affordability without crushing her spirits entirely.

The headlines are trumpeting that Australia has finally ended its per-capita recession, with GDP growth outpacing population growth for the first time in 21 months. Break out the champagne, right? Well, not so fast.

Standing in the queue at my local café this morning, I overheard several conversations about rising costs, and it struck me how disconnected these GDP figures feel from everyday reality. Sure, the numbers might look good on paper – a 0.1% increase in GDP per capita – but try telling that to anyone who’s recently done their weekly shop at Coles or Woolies.

The housing debate took an interesting turn this week when a property investor with 26 properties tried to blame immigration for Australia’s housing affordability crisis. The irony wasn’t lost on anyone, but it highlighted a deeper conversation we need to have about property distribution in our country.

Living in the inner suburbs, I’ve watched perfectly good houses sit empty for months or even years, while desperate renters compete for increasingly scarce rentals. Within a kilometer of my home, I can count at least ten vacant properties - some waiting for redevelopment, others seemingly forgotten by their investors. It’s a pattern repeated across Melbourne, where approximately 50,000 properties are tied up in short-term rentals like Airbnb.

Reading about Peter Cutmore’s story from the Waterloo Creek massacre has left me deeply reflective today. The brutal truth of what happened on January 26, 1838, when a young boy watched his people being slaughtered, stands in stark contrast to the barbecues and celebrations happening across the country.

The survival story of Peter Cutmore, preserved through generations of oral history, tells us of a child who survived by hiding in a log where his mother placed him. It’s a testament to both the horror of colonial violence and the incredible resilience of First Nations people. His descendants are still here, still telling his story, still waiting for justice after 187 years.

The recent discussions about tax reform in Australia have got me thinking about how we keep circling the same drain without making real progress. Reading through various proposals and community reactions, it’s fascinating to see how deeply entrenched our resistance to meaningful change has become.

Remember the carbon tax? That brief moment when we actually led the world in climate action, only to have it torn down by political opportunism and vested interests. Now here we are, a decade later, still debating the same fundamental issues about tax reform, land use, and economic fairness.

The recent news about private schools spending $2.5 billion on capital projects while public schools grapple with overcrowding has reignited the perpetual debate about school funding in Australia. Twenty years of working in tech has taught me that following the money often reveals the true story, and this situation is no different.

Looking at the numbers, elite private schools like Cranbrook receive around $4,000 per student in government funding, which is less than 10% of their total funding per student. Meanwhile, many public schools struggle with basic infrastructure needs. The argument that “private schools save the government money” keeps surfacing, but this overlooks a fundamental question: should we be subsidizing private choices with public money at all?

The proposed social media ban for under-16s in Australia is yet another spectacular example of our government’s knack for missing the point entirely. While scrolling through discussions about this latest policy announcement, I found myself getting increasingly frustrated at the sheer absurdity of it all.

Picture this: we’re living in a country where teenagers can’t watch YouTube videos about their homework or play online games with their friends, but they’re bombarded with gambling advertisements at every turn. The cognitive dissonance is staggering.

As I was browsing through online discussions, I stumbled upon a conversation about local council candidates in Bacchus Marsh, and my eyes landed on Paul Tatchell. His campaign slogan, “I don’t do Woke,” left me scratching my head. What does it mean to “do Woke,” and who exactly is Paul Tatchell?

From what I gather, Paul is a Bacchus Marsh council candidate with a rather…let’s say, “interesting” approach to politics. His decision to capitalize “Woke” is a telling sign of his stance on social issues. It’s clear that he’s trying to appeal to a certain type of voter, but in doing so, he’s coming across as out of touch and, quite frankly, a bit cringeworthy.

As I sipped my coffee at a busy Melbourne café the other day, I noticed a familiar sight: a sign on the counter warning customers of a debit card surcharge. It’s a small but annoying fee that many of us have become accustomed to, but it’s about to become a thing of the past. Under a new plan announced by the Albanese government, shoppers will no longer pay fees when using debit cards from 2026.