The Lost Blogs (25 page)

From:
http://www.bob_marley.com/dablog/

Subject:
Dontcha Worry…

A serious t’ing happened, mon. I and the bredren were red, ya? Da spliff be passin’ ‘round t’a room… Good times, mon. Goooood
times. Den ’fore we see it, more red ’n’ just our heads. Da bushes up in flames, smokin’, cracklin’. Rasta try ’n’ put out
every little than’ but da spliffs burn up, mon—so do all da happy bushes…

Sad. sad times… I. the Wailers, the Rasta—how we gonna get red without no supply?

Da bredren, da sistren—Ites is gone, now da red and da spliffs and the massive supply o’ what the Rasta ‘ave, all gone. No
danks to da polytricks ’ere in this wonderful set o’ states—Rasta all out of cannabis and Bob Marley needs all da help from
‘is Rastafari bredren ‘n’ sistren.

They’s speakin’ an sayin’ dere places ‘round ’ere. which da Rasta know. Like little birds singin’ their t’ing… tellin’ Rastafari
ta don’ worry ’bout a thin’ that ev’ry little thin’s gonna be ‘right.

A wha’ dem seh?

I bredren hear the little birds singin’ their t’ing. Don’ worry ’bout a thin’.

A wha’ dem seh? I and I shoot out
da message
through da digital post—get out da word that I and I bredren in desprat need… Desprat and da bredren is gettin’ more normal
by da secon’.

Den by da door, a sound ’n’ I and I bredren open it and da friends of da Rasta standin’ dere. Holdin’ spliffs. My spirit rise
to da Ites, so too for da sistren. Sure, mon, da polytricks and da laws of dis here place no good for da Rastafari but I and
I bredren don’ much matter, don’ much care. For, when da little bird singin’ their t’ing—and tellin’ I and I bredren don’
worry… I and I bredren don’ worry. We smoke da spliffs and play da music and dats just what I and I bredren gonna do.

Ya, mon. I and I love this digital world. Even wit da downgression and down-pression, I and I know dat da spliffs, theys I
and I t’ing. Ya. Feeeeelin’ good, mon.

Don’ worry. No way.

From:
http://www.wilbur_wright.com/flying_blog/

Subject:
Master Pilot, Wilbur Wright!

Yesterday was the day. Earlier this year, due to some very unique thinking on my part, I was able to include my brother Orville
in the building of the
Wright Flyer
(picture
here
). Following our glider flights, this was to be the very first machine with a propeller (carved) and a fully functioning engine.

Thanks to Charlie Taylor, who helped me in building the engine, I then decided to move forward in filing for patents and whatnot,
making the
Flyer I
(I decided the name change would be a good idea because we’d probably have more than one Wright-sponsored flying aeroplane)
its final name.

Testing, which I coordinated and organized over the course of many months, showed that the engine was working almost perfectly—it
was unfortunately not operating at 100%, but with a few quick adjustments (some of which I suggested to Charlie after really
putting my brain to work) brought it up to 80% and which resulted in it being the best of any previous engines we’d put together.
One of the great ideas I came up with involved using a bicycle chain in the engine—just wildly deciding to use things from
around the shop! Again, an inspired choice—it worked flawlessly. The next step was to test out the
Flyer I
and see if my vision of men in the air would actually come true. Oh, and I invited Orville to come along as well—although
I told him that if he was going to get all whiny like he usually did that he should stay home. He, of course, being the annoying
little brother he is, decided that he had to be there.

So yesterday, December 17, 1903, was the day.

Let me just explain something here. A first flight is always dangerous. There’s always the chance of getting injured or possibly
killed. As my brain was filled with all the technical specifications and the solutions to any design or engine problems, I
needed to find someone willing to put their life at risk for the first flight. After Charlie refused I was able to force Orville
to do so. With my help, and the aeroplane, he was able to successfully stay at 120 feet for about 12 seconds.

I immediately took to the air, following my successful first flight (with pilot Orville at the helm) and surpassed his flight
by staying up for 59 seconds at a height of 852 meters. That’s right! Higher, longer and better than Orville. You could tell
he was a bit upset, but I’m sure he’ll get over it.

Whatever you do, don’t rub it in his face. He doesn’t even know I write my thoughts here, so keep it quiet. In the meantime,
here are
pictures of me flying
.

Congratulatory messages should be sent to me,
here
.

From:
http://www.orville_wright.com/flying_blog/

Subject:
I Believed We Could Fly, and We Did!

You can call me Mister Orville Wright!

I’m sure you’ve heard the news by now—even though some of the papers (the small ones) either didn’t report it or got it wrong
… Yesterday was my first official flight on the
Flyer I
(a homage to the nickname my parents gave me as a kid—I used to fly around everywhere and I was the “little one”— thus,
Flyer I
(One)). Following those boring glider trips—this one was packed with a little something that Charlie Taylor and I thought
up… an engine that we got running to about 90% capacity.

You can imagine how big brother Wilbur tried to take credit for it—he goes around trying to convince people it was his idea,
but Charlie and I just laugh about it behind his back. He wanted to call the plane the
Wright Flyer
(stuuuuupid!) until I reminded him that he might want to think about the future. What happens if we build another one? What
do we call that?
The Wright Flyer II
? Wouldn’t make sense. Gotta number these babies from the beginning. Wilbur finally caved—he knew who was right.

There was another point when stubborn Wilbur almost ruined the whole project—we couldn’t get a normal chain working in the
prototype engine… It just was too heavy, weighing down the aeroplane. So, I’m sitting there in the bicycle shop working on
a bicycle and I turn to the guys and I say, “What about a bicycle chain?” Well, Wilbur was quick to say no because he just
likes to say no, but when Charlie played around with it for a while, he realized that my idea was gold. Wilbur didn’t like
that either.

That’s why I was so surprised and honored that he chose me to fly the plane yesterday for the first time. I mean, that was
so nice for him to do, he didn’t have to. I mean, he is the older brother. But he said to me, “Orville—you have worked so
hard over all these months and I want you to have the chance to fly the
Flyer I
first. You deserve it more than I do.” Man, I thought that was so great of him to say, and you’d better believe that I jumped
at the chance.

I stayed up in the air for about 12 seconds at 120 feet. They even took pictures of me doing it. When I got back down, you
could tell that Wilbur was a bit upset about the fact, but I’m sure he’ll get over it.

Whatever you do, don’t rub it in his face. He doesn’t even know I write my thoughts here, so keep it quiet. In the meantime,
here are
pictures of me flying
.

No more notes, okay? I’m just glad that we’ve taken such a big step in the world of flight!

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

Subject:
Hello? Are you there!?

Hahaha. Get it? I invented the telephone. See? Ha! Inventors and scientists can be funny!!

Thanks for visiting the official blog of Alexander Graham Bell! Unlike some of those other stuffy inventors and scientists
(ahem,
Thomas Edison’s phonograph blog
and
Melville Bissell’s carpet sweeper blog
immediately come to mind as useless boring drivel) who have their assistants transcribe their thoughts and notes to their
pages, I write each and every thing on here all by my lonesome! And yes, it is lonesome! Haha! Get it? ’cause I do it by myself
and that’s a solitary activity and—Yeah, okay.

I’ve got a brand-new project to introduce and I think you’ll be really excited to hear about it! Heh! (Get it? One of my inventions
is dependent on being able to hear!! Heh.) You may or may not know that before I ever invented the telephone, I figured out
a way to send piano music electronically over long distances! Well, now that I’ve invented the telephone, I’m combining that
with the music element to introduce to you…

Alexander Graham Bell’s Telephone Ringtones!

Just click on any of the below musical pieces and they will be immediately sent to your home telephone! For free! In a sense,
you’re helping me troubleshoot a brand-new exciting feature for the home communications device!

But a word of caution—as this is still an experimental technology and because it requires the use of electricity to conduct
the music… Pick up the phone with a glove on or something, okay? Hah! Kidding. You don’t need a glove. But just don’t put
the phone to your ear… Go ahead and click on one and it should arrive in under 72 hours!

“I’ll Take You Home Again. Kathleen”
by Thomas Payne Westendorf

“Grandfather’s Clock”
by Henry Clay Work

“The Bonnie Banks o’ Loch Lomond”
by Andrew Lang

“Gay as a Lark”
by Septimus Winner

“Old Aunt Jemima”
by James Grace

“Symphony No. 1”
by Johannes Brahms

“String Quartet No. 1”
by Bedrich Smetana

“Old Macdonald”
by Unknown

“Hello, are you there?”
by Alexander Graham Bell

“Hi. it’s me Alexander”
by Alexander Graham Bell

“Answer the phone, already”
by Alexander Graham Bell

Any problems, injuries, annoyances? E-mail
Thomas Edison
.

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

Subject:
Hi. HI. A89h*((7 !!!!

Cheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeese.

Look. Look at the cheese. No, not real cheese but the word cheese can you see it up there right above I just typed it out
there for you here it is again

cheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeese!

Djal;8d

Lotsa cheeeeeeese. Cheese isn’t a word, no it’s not don’t tell me it isn’t ’cause it is and I can see it but it doesn’t soudnaa
t d,. doesnj’t sound like cheese but cheese doesn’t make a sound in the forest if you hit it with a axe or yes, I do.

I like vodka… aaand you do too or blue coo coo chee foo.

Cheeeese is yellow and yellow brick road with all those midgets they freak me out those little freaky small hand people when
I was in trhe dressing room getting ready that day they came in accidental and didn’t say what they wanted and I was changing
and turned aournd and there they were, those little peopole wanting to say hello and I didni’t want them there so I threw
a glass or something and then when I was suppoed to be sing follow the yellow bric road they had mean looks on their faces
which I can see now if I close my eyes and it’s not really the memory but the thought that counts and if you dn’t agree theyn
you might as well just shut THE HELL UP BEDAUSAE I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU THINK ABOUTANYTHING ASSSSSSSSSSS.

;ADLI-89DHFS(SD°a98aud-&7&&897 sdyf9870-

rh4978\

2-r3998

(°(Sh;ks

Y&°D

That feel nice I’m gonna just rest my head down here and yeah until later so goin nighgt night talk to you soon tomorrow I’ll
post more.

°(&u7h98sdun

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

Subject:
I Hate Him

Someone stole my bike today. I locked it up outside the house and did everything Dad told me to do but still someone got it.
I didn’t want to tell Dad ’cause he told me that I should lock it up behind the house but I was just going inside for a second
and I didn’t think anyone in the day would try to take it. When Dad came home I told him and he was really mad and pulled
out the belt which I said No to. Then Dad said well if you don’t want the belt then you’re gonna be punished another way and
I didn’t even have warning and he poked me hard with two fingers in the eyes.

It really hurt bad and he said that he had to teach me a lesson and tried to do it again but I was smart that time and I held
up my hand so his two fingers couldn’t get me—but then he showed me his fist, just hangin’ there in midair… He hit it with
another hand, and he wound the fist in midair before hitting me on the head with it. I just started crying and then he slapped
me and Curly ran into the other room so he wouldn’t get slapped and Dad just said again how he wasn’t buying me another bike
until I could treat things with respect.

I hate him I hate him I hate him.

When I grow up and I have kids I ain’t never gonna hit them or yell at them or poke them or nothin’ like that. ’cause it doesn’t
make a kid feel good or happy and it ain’t funny or anything like that. Curly said the same thing, he said it’s wrong and
Dad should know that pokin’ his kids ain’t gonna do nothing but make them not like him.

And I say yes to that—when I grow up I ain’t gonna be like him if it’s the last thing I do.

From:
http://www.mecca.org/~muhammad_blog/

Subject:
A Break from It All?

These freakin’ kids are driving me crazy.