The Lost Blogs (20 page)

Costello:
That’s not very nice
.

Abbott: (Deep sigh here)
Here’s the thing, Costello. If you don’t want hits
…

Costello:
No, I don’t want hits!

Abbott:
And you won’t give out your I.P. address or let people know that URL
…

Costello:
I refuse! I ain’t no sicko!

Abbott:
Then the only other way is to give out links to others
…

Costello:
First Spam, now sausage links! You hungry or something?

Abbott:
I’m not talking food, Costello. I’m talking links
.

Costello:
Well, I don’t know what country you live in my friend, but where I come from—links ARE food
.

Abbott:
I guess, figuratively, that’s sorta true
.

Costello:
You betcha bipper!

Abbott:
Well then, Costello—I’m not gonna tell you how or where to give out those links. You do what you wanna do
.

Costello:
I will! And I ain’t givin’ nobody nothing, just to come and read what I gotta say. They can come if they want, or they don’t
hafta. But I ain’t getting hit, givin’ out food, or tellin’ them that I’m sick or even telling them that you are ill!

Abbott:
Well, I’m sure they don’t care if you’re sick or not… But they do wanna know that URL
.

Costello:
Which I’m not!

Abbott:
Not, what?

Costello:
Ill!

Abbott:
I never said you were ill
.

Costello:
You did, just then!

Abbott:
You’re scaring me, Costello
.

Costello:
Aggggghhhh!!! I think I’m havin’ a heart attack!

Abbott:
So, then you ARE ill!

(Costello faints. Abbott picks him up and drags him offstage.)

From:
http://www.salvador_dali.com/blog/

From:
http://www.patton.com/~george/blog/

Subject:
Give Up? Never!

Pardon my French, but this is all a bunch of bullshit!

Hell, I don’t care what you think about my words as long as it gets through your sickening, thick skulls! There’s a war out
there raging… A war that’s taking its toll… Communication is breaking down, and without communication—a cohesive group of
men can’t fight their way outta a piss-soaked paper bag.

I’m talkin’ about all these crybaby wimps who joined the Army’s
Blogging Webring
where all they had to do over the course of a year was throw something up once a week for their troops… A quick update,
a quick note. Somethin’ to keep morale high—because without morale we might as well all go home and stick our heads in the
friggin sand and wait for someone to blow our asses through our mouths.

Left and right, I’ve seen it. All these crybabies, givin’ up on the blogging. Long posts and passages dedicated to “not having
the time to blog,” “not feeling creative enough to blog,” “not having hands, which were shot off in battle, and not being
able to blog”…

It’s a bunch of goddamn bullshit if you ask me.

You don’t give up because you aren’t feeling it. In war, you don’t wake up one day and tell your commanding officer that you’re
not gonna fight because, well, you just don’t have the time or because you didn’t expect it to be this much work. No! So,
if you don’t do that on the battlefield, after committing to this Army project, how can you do the same thing? In fact, all
over, and it ain’t just enlisted men—these pansies are givin’ up at every turn because they just aren’t feeling it.

I say to these fools, you might as well shoot yourself in the head while you’re at it—because if you give up this damn quickly
when the going gets tough… Well, then, I don’t want you backing me up out there in the real battle.

Not feelin’ creative? No time to do it? Want to give up on your blog? Well, go ahead! But don’t write me some boring, tired,
long article about why. Because if you’re giving up, everything you’re writing about is bullshit anyway. Give up and go away
or stick with it and be a man!!

Stand up to the fear and the second-guessing and the lack of confidence! Stand up to your ability to be overcome by laziness.
Stand up and do something and get that thing written.

Maybe then, someone will give you some goddamn respect!

From:
http://www.edgarallanpoe.com/blog/

Subject:
The Visitor, Part 23

I’ve attempted to contact the local animal control authorities three times on this day, without any luck whatsoever.

If you’ve stuck with my ramblings over the last two weeks, you have most likely been privy to that which has caused a great
deal of stress in my household. My initial description of the events in question can be found
here
and
here
. Simply put, the most troublesome of all flapping creatures found its way into my home through an opening in the outer structure—and
has been the cause of quite a bit of chaos over the last ten days.

At first, the rapping and tapping echoed throughout my chamber—the kind of knocking which resembled a human hand. I peered
through the door many times those first few days, constantly at odds with my work and my obsession in finding out which pint-size
rascals of the neighborhood were trying to pull the so-called wool over my eyes.

But before long it became clear to me that a flapping creature had found its way into my attic through a hole in the chimney.
And as irony usually presents itself, the hole was too small for me, yet just small enough for our little ebony friend. There
has been knocking and tapping and rapping and scratching and screeching and scraping and it is about to drive me to madness.

My writing, it seems, does not benefit from the repetitive sounds being offered forth by this creature whom I cannot dispatch.
My writing, it appears, cannot find its voice as long as another living creature resides above my head. The madness it instills
… The tapping in my skull…

I must attempt at contacting those who can help me, once again,
in this matter. Do you know of a solution to get rid of the clapping and rapping and tapping that plagues me ever more? Send
a note
here
if you have a solution that may be quite sure. I must dispatch my ebony friend or else the distraction will most definitely
cause my work to suffer.

For what literary masterpiece can come from such pedestrian problems?

From:
http://www.mozart.de/blog/

Subject:
European Tour Continues…

I’ve not found the time to write as of late, and for that I apologize—but it has been almost a year away from home while on
tour in Europe. This tour has monopolized my time and caused me to neglect that which you are reading now.

I will be performing in London in a matter of days, but I have spent the last few hours updating the
concert music files
for your listening pleasure. There are some wonderful shows available to listen to, including my performances in
Munich
and
Mannheim
.

The
Mozart Message Board
has been filled with questions regarding my future plans, which I have not had the time to answer until today. If curiosity
has gotten the better of you, click
here
for an audiocast that you may listen to at your own convenience. I will attempt to record and provide audiocasts on a monthly
basis through the remaining months of my European tour, so that you may all keep up to date on what’s happening with me and
my music.

You may or may not have read
Salieri’s Blog
, which contains unauthorized links to audio files of my performances. I personally have not visited the site, but I have
heard it is poorly designed, has a lack of interesting features, and there is jealousy running rampant through his words.
I’ll advise all of those who are looking to listen to the music of Mozart to visit my
music vault
and listen to the performances in the quality they were meant to be heard. Rogue copies of my music, as presented by Salieri,
do not do justice to the music—instead, giving you a lesser product whose tone (I’m quite sure) does not live up to these
crystal-clear versions of my performances.

The act of providing what amounts to unauthorized copies of an artist’s music seems to be a criminal act of sorts—and those
who freely acquire the files of my music in such a way should be held responsible for such actions as well. If you want to
experience the music of Mozart, purchase a ticket and come to see a performance instead of taking part in Salieri’s less than
respectful offerings. (That is all I will say on the subject of acquiring illegal music files.)

Finally, I must put to rest the rumors that seem to flow freely from a variety of European gossip sites that I am a crude,
promiscuous, unrefined dolt. I do not deny my love for women, of course! How I would be lying to suggest such things. But
crude? Promiscuous? Unrefined?

Well, maybe there is some truth to it all!

Hope to see all of you at my next performance in London!

From:
http://www.johnwayne_gacy.com/blog/

Subject:
Happy Haikus for a Clown!

Circus dogs. Balloons.

Jokes and pratfalls and laughter.

Tee hee hee. Tee hee.

Da-da, da-da-dum!

Can you hear the circus song?

I’m dancing! I am!

Working 9 to 5.

A way to make a living.

Having a job sucks.

I’m a happy clown.

I’m happy on the outside.

But on the inside?

Red paint and white paint.

Yay! I like to paint my face!

Hey! Stay in the lines!

Just ’Cause I’m a clown,

Doesn’t mean I need a dog.

It’s a one-man show!

Where is the laughter?

Why have they forsaken me?

Poor pitiful clown.

The balloons have popped.

I let all of the air out

Don’t try to stop me.

Cotton candy! Yum!

Do you like cotton candy?

You’d better like it.

Any thoughts on JWG’s haikus? Send me your contact information, along with your address, phone number, daily schedule, social
security number, and I’ll come to you.

From:
http://www.martinlutherkingjr.com/dreamblog/

Subject:
Today’s Dream.

I had a dream…

A dream that, well, now that I find myself trying to share this dream here on
martinlutherkingjr.com
, I find my memory does not serve me in the way I wish it would.

I had a dream…

… filled with visions so much like paradise, that while I slept I believed that such images were real and concrete… Images
I awoke from, images that I rose up from having, images that besides the general “paradise” theme, I have no idea what they
were.

I had a dream…

I’m sure it had nothing to do with falling, like
this dream
, and I’m fairly certain it had nothing to do with my children, like
that dream
. Sometimes if I just sit here and try to empty my thoughts I can come up with the subject matter of the dream at hand so
all my friends and family and readers can tell me what they believe the significance could be… But today, as I write these
words, dear friends, all I can tell you is that—

I had a dream… One which my mind can’t grasp or remember. I had this dream last night, and yet today it is a mere shadow
of a fully realized world of the night before. Sure, every once in a while when I’m doing something like brushing my teeth
or buttering a piece of bread I get a flash of the dream, and then it’s gone like it had never been there in the first place!

I had a dream and recall awakening in the dark of the night, sitting up with my dream log and turning on the light and attempting
to find my way to the pen on my bedside table so that I could write down the images and the elements so that when the daylight
came, I would be able to write those images here for all to see. So that we could, together, share that vision and dissect
it…

What symbolism did such a dream contain? Did it contain images of water, wind, walls or guns? Did it communicate through me
my stresses and concerns and worries? Would the lessons of such a dream help me in my waking life, in combating those who
seek to stand strong against the civil rights movement as it pertains to the freedom of all who stand in my corner?

I had a dream… but that doesn’t mean I’m ever going to remember it.

In the meantime, maybe you’d enjoy checking out my
previous dreams
, which include the
one in which I am falling off a tall building in Alabama and then land in the ocean where I swim around with the fish
or the
dream where I’m playing a tuba and flute at the same time while hopping on one foot and singing “She’ll Be Comin’ ‘Round the
Mountain”
or the
dream where I eat a thousand hamburgers
.