The Lost Blogs (37 page)

Are you someone who is afraid to speak? Afraid that your words just won’t impress? Want to make sure that while you’re up
in front of others, that it is your
“finest hour”
? Then take it from me, Sir Winston Churchill—my words sound amazing coming out of anyone’s mouth. So why not make it YOU?

From:
http://www.charles_dickens.co.uk/blog/

Subject:
A Harrowing Christmas Eve

’Twas early this morning of Christmas Eve that I awoke with a start, enveloped in the darkness—my brow wet with worry and
my thoughts filled with fear.

While sound asleep, of which I was, visions of my daily work filled my head. The words of which I slave over, hour to hour
and day to day, on the pages of the physical world and on this ghostly screen at which you stare this very moment.

This weblog, which I endeavour to fill without fail each and every day, has undoubtedly become a true test of wills—at times
requiring the posts of future days to be written ahead of time so that my dear readers are never left without a tale. On this
early morning of Christmas Eve, my inner specters came calling to test my righteousness and dedication of this cause.

In my dreams, an aged spirit appeared at first, pulling at my arm and showing me that which has passed me by—the past blog
entries which I’ve penned. Not particularly fearful was I, yet the perfectionist inside of me grew critical by the moment
at the lack of professionalism associated with such writings. Colourful as they were, there was an amateurish nature at their
core—the spirit of blogs past written suggested that in order to succeed I must never return to such simplemindedness. My
writings of the past were not thoughtful, rather, they were extremely innocent and perhaps slightly mean-spirited…

The beat of my heart moved along at a normal pace throughout it all, as the friendly spirits seemed to be there to help. And
where one had appeared, another took its place—this time a friendly spirit who showed me my present ramblings. This spirit
of the present revealed an image of myself, rushing to finish my daily entries—shortcuts abound. While the quality had improved
tenfold, the heart was no
longer there. “Empty words, posted daily,” the spirit spoke. It was no way of sending goodwill to those in need of inspiring
words or heartfelt tales. As soon as the vision appeared, it was gone.

The chime struck three as I awoke on my knees, looking up to a figure that was no longer there. Doubt in my head, I wandered
back to the warmth of my bed—at least confident that what I had written and scheduled to appear almost magically on the following
day (due to my lack of time on the morrow) would impress and inspire. Yet as soon as I found myself drifting—a third creature
appeared. More horrible than the last two combined, this spirit showed me the most spine-tingling future existence.

An existence where that which I had postdated for the future had never appeared whatsoever. The words I had planned for the
future’s consideration sat stoic in a menu system, waiting to appear but never choosing to do so.

“
Is this the future of my blog entry
?” I wondered aloud to the spirit.

The wisest of all three, it nodded and I awoke with a start—was everything I had seen simply a vision or was there truth to
this horrible future? I raced to my devices, turned them on, and looked into the future of my entries.

And there, as I had dreamed, it stood outright—morrow’s post dated for a year ahead instead of a mere hours away. The hairs
on the back of my neck stood straight—the visits I had encountered throughout the night had appeared to teach a lesson outright.
A lesson, of which I would never forget… I would never again write for the future, hoping it would appear magically to my
readers. Instead, I would not take the shortcut, and I would write for the day, on the day—and be a better man because of
it.

Never again would I utter “Aaah, dumb-blog!” out of frustration or a lack of respect for this wondrous place.

Never again.

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

Subject:
Uh, Baseball?

Is it just me, or is baseball completely, utterly
boring
!?

I made it out for the National League World Series last week in Chicago (yes, the Chicago White Stockings won it!) and can
I just say this without anyone gettin’ all up in my face or anything… But, man—whoever invented the damn game should’ve at
least tried to make it ENTERTAINING to watch!!

Can I just say that I would rather get shot in the neck with a bullet (and I was, during the Battle of Gettysburg) than sit
through an entire game of this boooooooring spectator sport? You got guys standing out in the field, waiting. You got guys
standing in the infield, waiting. You got a guy with a bat on the home plate, waiting. Everyone’s waiting for a ball to get
hit and so is the crowd. And in the meantime? You wait. Then something happens, and it’s over in a second, and you go back
to waiting. I could go sit in the doctor’s office and wait for an appointment and have more fun.

You’d think they’d have some good food there or something, but that’s missing too.

Yeah, yeah—take it up with the guys who invented the damn game. I only wish that I could. You know, I’d have to head back
to England for that with them and their games of cricket and rounders… Doesn’t it all make sense anyway? The English are
boring and reserved and quiet. What do you expect from a game whose origins come from their own country?

Yawn.

When I was a kid, back in New York, sure we used to play around with the ball and run around out there in the field but it
was fun because we could make up our own rules. I especially liked the game that I came up with called “Throw It and Catch
It.” That’s where someone would throw the ball and someone else would catch it. Man, we played that for hours and it never
got boring because you were always doing something. But baseball—yeah, we never played much of that. Prolly ’cause we didn’t
ever
have enough people and because, and I say this with all the respect in the world… it was the most BORING game ever.

Doubt I’ll ever make it back to another game, if only ’cause I just don’t have the time to waste. Sure, if I invented the
damn game or owned one of the teams then maybe I’d feel more invested in the game. But until that day, well, I ain’t stepping
one foot into a baseball park again.

At least, not until they get some good food.

From:
http://www.gandhi.org/moblog/

Subject:
From the Front Lines of Oppression

With so much to accomplish, I have taken to the streets in an attempt to communicate with all of you via my mobile device.
As you very well know, I have now been fasting for twenty days to oppose the British oppression here in India.

Mmmm, someone just walked by with a hot dog.

But, alas—I will continue what they call this “civil disobedience” in lieu of the violence they expect. I object to violence
because when it appears to do good, the good is only temporary; the evil it does is permanent. This, I stand behind—these
words that I have bread.

Er, said. These words that I have
said
. Not bread. There was a nice young woman standing next to me as I typed that selection of words. She was holding a hot, steaming,
mouthwatering, soft and lovely, joyful loaf of bread. But she has gone now. And all is food. Er,
good
. All is
good
.

Some of you have expressed your beliefs that such actions are without merit. Yet, are our minds this much like Swiss cheese,
do the holes in our memory cause us to forget the Dandi March of 1930? An act of such civil disobedience that it resulted
in a signed pact between the British one year later—do we forget so fast?

Yes, such false promises regarding setting political prisoners free came and went without any resolution, and after talks
fell through—this latest fast was necessary. And so here I sit, twenty days without any food—protesting the British for their
treatment of our people. For their lack of respect, understanding and inability to drink…

Er,
think
.

I, er, have a few things to take care of, but will post more at a later lime… er
time
.

From:
http://www.benito_mussolini.it/blog/

Subject:
Il Duce Blogger!

If you are reading these words, as written by Il Duce Blogger, you have no further need for any other blogger you have previously
read. Now is the time to throw away your bookmarks and abandon your feeds, as Il Duce Blogger can provide you with everything
you could possibly need here in the blogosphere.

The Italian press has recently printed a variety of articles on Il Duce Blogger (
here
,
here
,
here
,
here
and
here
) and has said…

“
… Il Duce Blogger never sleeps
!”

“
… Il Duce Blogger is always right
!”

“
He will solve all the problems of the blogosphere
!”

As Il Duce Blogger (your leader in blogging), my goal will be to provide for you, the worker with too much time on their hands
during the daylight hours, an outlet for your spare moments… A place to read about what should be important to you in your
lives… A place where I will tell you what everyone thinks is important, at which point you too will agree that these are
the things you should be concentrating on.

“
Everyone reads Il Duce Blogger, even children!
”

It seems that such is true—even children who have yet to fully be capable of reading entire sentences are reading the words
of yours truly, Il Duce Blogger. And why not? Teachers throughout all of Italy have decided that old textbooks are simply
outdated and useless. Instead, they have turned to this blog—introducing and supporting Il Duce Blogger!

And in a surprise to even yours truly, it seems as though every aspect of the press has voluntarily jumped onboard the Il
Duce Blogger wagon! Newspapers, books, radio, film—they are all in support of Il Duce Blogger!

On a not so positive note, it seems that those who have yet to embrace the writings of Il Duce Blogger are being dragged into
the streets and attacked by my true blog supporters. This is, of course, not something I endorse and I hope that those who
fall into this category will simply change their alliances and delete old bookmarks before those close to them realize where
their allegiance lies.

The answers to every single one of your questions await!

From:
http://www.bruce_lee.ch/blog/
^*

Subject:
Lives in Automobile Trumpet Kong!

I write to you from mine family in Hong Kong.

My here comes at first with Linda therefore we can attend
Big Boss Shield
. Some many people in theater. All is extremely excitedly looked the movie and it is even more exciting causes me to meet
my zealous frantic amateur.

It is different here in Hong Kong.

I felt like I am respected replace in mine motherland I to treat in US’S way. This feels. From then on, the movie has been
distributed, I accept many propositions to hold the post of the lead in other movies.

I receive a telegram to inform me from Los Angeles, I not to obtain the work today to say “in them; Soldier name television
program.” They, instead, employ a Caucasian to play Kung the Fu master, I discovered extremely insults. This is the reason
I decided pauses and obtains the work in Hong Kong at other movies. I have control here to the product, respects me with this
country the work.

I and start with Linda to converse about possibly open martial arts center here in Hong Kong. I have been able to teach the
fist way which intercepts and other people to be able to profit from any me for many years the academic society. I am firmly
these practices wing spring Gung the Fu technology may not seek pleasure.by this decision, but is I thought this is best for
me.

I must thank my supporters in there for me. My ventilators! You, I could not be I am today place. Your support is the nonprice.
Your note is appreciated. My ventilators! Without you I one all day have not been able to sleep. Without you I have not been
able to give wearily. But instead, not. My ventilators are the reason.

If you come and you reads my word from US, thanks visits this place!

If you meet want to converse with me, send to me to write down
here
.

From:
http://www.king_arthur.uk/blog/

Subject:
Meeting Bloggers for the First Time!

Dare I say I was quite nervous just a fortnight ago? Would that strike you as being strange for me, King Arthur?

Perhaps, but I must be honourable and be honest when I write that my nerves were not that of steel, were not as strong as
my shield or my sword… My knees, nervous with worry, for whatever silly reason—I simply hoped that the others I was about
to meet would find me as interesting in person as they had found me here… on this blog.

You’ve seen their names here before in the feedback section. Bloggers who are knights and knights who are bloggers—courageously
fighting evil and bad sentence structure all at once. We had agreed eons ago to sit down together, in person—and this moment
was a long time coming.

Of course, when I entered the room I found myself having trouble with the words, but eventually they came out perfectly.
Sir Galahad
approached first, handing me a stein of the finest ale around. His nerves were shot as well—which he admitted as we moved
to the center table where we met
Sir Gareth
and
Sir Aglovale
(son of King Pellinore),
Sir Florence
and
Sir Bors
. And of course, who could not forget the confident and personable
Sir Lancelot
? Not I. That ’tis for sure.