Alexander J Richardson

3/ The Boxing Day tsunami waves reached nearby coasts within 15 minutes and traveled thousands of kilometers. While today’s quake should see faster wave arrival due to proximity to land, wave size and impact should be significantly less.

2/ Based on these figures, the Boxing Day quake would have released over 1,000 times more energy than today’s. While today’s quake should produce much smaller waves, the potential for localized tsunamis remains.

1/ BREAKING: A 6.7 magnitude earthquake struck 202 km SW of George Town, Cayman Islands, at a depth of 33 km. For comparison, the 2004 Boxing Day earthquake was a magnitude 9.1–9.3 at a similar depth of 30 km.

10/10
Novak Djokovic may dominate tennis, but his legacy in Australia is one of privilege and arrogance. Some might applaud his victories, but admiration? That’s something he’s far from earning.

9/10
Australia values fairness and resilience. Djokovic trampled on both. His withdrawal at the Open, met with boos, speaks to how little respect he’s earned here. Skill on the court doesn’t erase his entitlement off it.

8/10
The issue isn’t just the fraud or disregard for the rules. It’s the lack of accountability. Djokovic never apologised to Australians. He painted himself as the wronged party, ignoring the sacrifices millions had made.

7/10
Had a non-famous person attempted what Djokovic did—entering Australia with questionable documentation—they’d face prosecution, fines, and bans. Djokovic? He got a slap on the wrist, flew home, and played the victim.

6/10
While Djokovic bent the truth, everyday Australians faced harsh realities. Families were separated, funerals missed, and countless lives disrupted. Meanwhile, Djokovic expected his fame to grant him special privileges.

5/10
If that wasn’t bad enough, photos showed Djokovic maskless at public events the same day he allegedly tested positive. Either he lied about the test or he knowingly attended while infectious.

4/10
The test, dated Dec 16, 2021, supposedly confirmed his infection. However, metadata exposed it had been altered and appeared to have been created later.

3/10
Djokovic claimed an exemption to Australia’s vaccination requirements, citing a positive COVID test in December 2021. Yet investigative work by Der Spiegel revealed damning inconsistencies in his Serbian PCR test.

2/10
It’s hard to forget why Djokovic remains so divisive in Australia. In 2022, he was effectively caught fraudulently entering the country during strict COVID-19 protocols. While Australians endured immense sacrifices, Djokovic flouted the rules.

1/10
Novak Djokovic withdrew from his match at the Australian Open due to injury, greeted by boos from the crowd. Perhaps some were disappointed. Or maybe, just maybe, it reflects Australia’s deep-seated dislike for him—a resentment he’s earned.

Love him, but Alex de Minaurs stats show he is WAY out of his league. His first serve average for the tournament ended up at 49.7%.

14.4% lower than anyone else who made the quarters. He should take 3 months off to work exclusively on his serve.

No one’s won the #AusOpen with a less than 60% first serve rate since Djokovic in 2015 with 59%. The champion average rate is 70%.

di Minaur is averaging 49%. It is, objectively abysmal. Compare to the remaining seven:

Zverev 72%
Djokovic 65%
Shelton 65%
Paul 64%
Sonego 63%
Alcaraz 62%
Sinner 59%

20/20
So here’s the question: If the system is broken—and we all know it—why do we keep pretending it works? What does breaking free from hypernormalisation look like? And how do we start imagining something better? How do we stop playing along?

19/20
Those ideas sound radical because we’ve been taught they are. But they’re not impossible. Hypernormalisation tells us change is unthinkable. That’s its greatest trick.

18/20
But rejecting it isn’t enough. What replaces it? A world where power isn’t concentrated in the hands of tech billionaires? A society where platforms like TikTok are tools for empowerment, not bargaining chips for political operatives?

17/20
The first step is recognising the facade for what it is. Hypernormalisation thrives on passivity. Breaking free starts with rejecting the lies and questioning the narratives we’re fed.

16/20
TikTok’s ban is a perfect example. It’s easier to accept the narrative that it’s a “security risk” than to confront the deeper truth: that our tech ecosystem is controlled by monopolies, and our political system thrives on distraction.

15/20
So why does hypernormalisation persist? Because the alternative—admitting the system is broken and dismantling it—is terrifying. It requires imagination, collective action, and risk. And right now, most people feel too powerless or cynical to try.

14/20
Now, billionaires hoard wealth while millions can’t afford housing. Everyone knows this isn’t sustainable, but we pretend it is because imagining alternatives feels impossible.

13/20
And don’t forget the economy. After the 2008 crash, the global economy was exposed as rigged for the wealthy. Instead of reform, we got bailouts for billionaires and austerity for everyone else. The system’s fragility was hidden behind a shiny facade of “growth.”

12/20
Even Trump’s critics are complicit. We doom-scroll his antics, shaking our heads but feeding the system that props him up. Hypernormalisation thrives on this paradox: we hate the spectacle, but we can’t look away.

11/20
Then there’s Trump himself. His chaotic, absurd presidency should’ve been an anomaly, but instead, it became the new normal. His return is treated as inevitable. The media plays along because his spectacle is profitable—for ratings, clicks, and political theatre.

10/20
The world’s leaders recycle the same empty rhetoric because confronting the truth—power dynamics, accountability, colonial legacies—is too disruptive. The facade endures, and we call it normal.

9/20
TikTok isn’t the only example. Let’s talk about Gaza. For decades, the same words echo: “peace process,” “restraint,” “ceasefire.” But everyone knows the reality—systemic violence and oppression persist.

8/20
This is hypernormalisation in action: the narrative (“TikTok is a national security threat”) doesn’t align with reality, but it’s repeated enough to justify extreme measures. We know it’s a sham, but we’re trapped in the lie.

7/20
And let’s not forget the bipartisan political establishment. TikTok has been a platform for exposing injustices, organising protests, and challenging the status quo. Silencing it weakens a key tool for grassroots resistance.

6/20
Then there’s Trump. This move aligns perfectly with his return to the national stage, positioning him as the solution to a problem he helped create. It’s not about TikTok—it’s about consolidating power and attention.