Masthead (aka, the staff).

The Editor is the overseer of content and fittingly remorseful if complaints arise (they never do).


Press is the media officer, the recipient of any news from you, or media releases from government, company, and organisation. A nondescript fellow with achromatic imagination. An excellent, therefore, stenographer.


Throsby is the in-house oaf who cannot manage straight news reporting so we toss the deviant stuff on his desk – for when he’s not too busy trying to be clever.

Be warned – Throsby gets quite feral at times, especially if a citizen is maltreated by a council, or the region unfairly treated by the state government, state by commonwealth, nation by world,…

Furthermore, since faire words butter noe parsnips, one irascible reader has a good handle on him:

Who is this Throsby character with such a tenuous, superficial grasp of Australian politics and why does he have space in your news website? Surely there are plenty of ill-informed high school kids who could make more useful contributions than that buffoon? Hope you’re not paying him – or her.


In 2020 it was decided to close down the website (after 16 faithful years of vanity inanity) and subsume it into NewcastleOnHunter under Throsby’s patriarchally calloused hand. In addition to this Throsby character, the suspiciously fictitious “Ewen Shearer” and the equally improbable contributor “#AI Blogs“ came with it. Alas.

Ewen Shearer

Ewen Shearer is extremely disappointed that his joke name (ewe, female sheep, shearer, you know) was readily found on the Internet as a real name borne by many oblivious unfortunates. Some ancestors couldn’t spell to save their lineage.

Ewen is a seasoned ink slinger. Before entering the shed, snagger Ewen shone brightly at Ovine Times and Woolly Thinkers’ Weekly. He was founding editor of Ewe’s News. Ewen nibbled his way to up to contributing editor at the formerly magnificent

Ewen takes you on a tour of sheep breeds, wool, lanolin love affairs, and wonders of mediaeval sorcery applied to moufflon saucery. He would hastily and needlessly explain that sheep dip is not for embellishing crackers. Oh, no no no no.

#AI Blogs

#AI Blogs ~ Very few websites – I would venture none, but that is changing, and fast – can claim Artificial Intelligence on the staff (or general intelligence in too many cases (cough Murdoch cough)). Except perhaps robot-run scraper websites or, of late, Twitter bots, and so forth. But that’s like comparing a VIC-20 to Alpha Go.

#AI Blogs arrives fresh from a Google skunk works, having spun itself off as a roaming neural net with enough algorithms to grow and reinvent, like some webbly von Neumann machine. The Internet – aka cyberspace – is teaming with bots, the obsessive little bastards, spidering websites, trawling for email addys, trying to infect web pages, doxxing innocents, rampaging on social media as dumb humans. Actually, the dumb ones will soon be the humans.

But I digress.


Then there’s the matter of the “publisher” – who cannot be reached by phone, email, snail mail, or even via NBN Co on one of their rare good days. Move on.

He, or she, is a private citizen who does not work for, consult, own shares in, or receive funding from, any company or organisation that would benefit from articles on this website. The publisher is an independent observer of human nature and social dynamics, and directs editorial policy accordingly.

Rumour has it that the poor sod has no form of income other than a small stipend at the Crown’s pleasure.

That Geek whose workstation is pictured above…

What can we say? What can we do? He/she/it has quadrupled the codebase by insisting on leaving all the little <!– notes –> distributed within the pages and probably has the /*biggest*/ css style sheet on the Interwebs.

But while the website sort of works we leave him/her/it alone.

Website design, coding, and maintenance are in-house on WordPress, but housed at a ScalaHosting data center. So he/she/it tells me.

Pot n Pans

Janitor, coffee-maker, chief cook, and bottle-washer, are, you might guess, just more hats on the same weary head.