The Lost Blogs Read online

  Jimmy12 writes, “My grandfather had just passed away and his last wish was that I speak at his funeral. I was terrified to stand up in front of such a large group and had nothing to say. Thanks to Churchill Speaks, my speech about Granddad and never giving up and never giving in, sure inspired the crowd—although some had no idea what my speech had to do with Granddad… But who cares! It was an inspiring moment they’ll never forget!”

  Anonymous31 writes, “I didn’t have time to study for my oral history report on the U.S. government’s Depiction of War to the Public in the First World War, but thanks to Churchill Speaks I gave a rousing speech about fighting in the streets and in the fields and above all… never surrendering! And although it didn’t even make sense, I still got an A thanks to Churchill’s amazingly well-written words!”

  [email protected] writes, “After losing a local mayoral election, I needed a speech that could communicate the fact that I would be stepping down from the post. Although the speech I got from Churchill Speaks was about not giving up or surrendering… I still felt pretty good up there giving the speech to my, urn, wife.”

  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 th
at 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.

  ’Twas a good showing with almost twenty or more of our blogger-knights, and after hours had passed and good words were exchanged, the lot of us all looked up from the table at which we sat and it hit us. I believe it was Sir Tristam who said, “Here we sit, knights at this round table, bloggers first in heart, knights second in courage. This table is awfully nice as well, whose is it? I particularly like the roundness of it…”

  Well, the table was owned by the establishment, of course—but Tristam’s thoughts were well received. It was then, at that moment, we all came to agreement on our official formation of an organization whose ultimate goal above all would be to meet regularly for a bloggers roundtable. Writing, form, subject matter and grammatical issues plaguing the bloggers across these great lands. The moment of our formation would never be forgotten.

  All in all, a very exciting time for the kingdom and I’m glad to say that I was honored to meet each and every one of my new brothers, and even more pleased that I made it throughout the night without losing my dinner all over the floor.

  External Link:Royal Bloggers Website

  From: http://www.philistine.g0Liath.com/blog/

  Subject: Israelite.c0m Hack3d!

  I am th3 uLtiM4t3. (Click h3re for the cha0s.)

  Check 0ut Israelite.c0m and t3LL me that isn’t the m0st hilari0us thing you’ve ever s33n. It t00k me 40 days to do it, but my sup3ri0r hacK1ng skiLLz triumph3d and they’LL nev3R get the uLtiM4t3… g0Liath.

  I am t00 g00d f0r th0se small mind3d, puny Israelites!

  Posted by g0Liath at 6:11 AM | Permalink | Comments (7)

  C0MM3NTS

  You’re not THAT good. We’ve tracked your domain name to an address in the Valley of Elah. I’m going to take you down.

  Posted by: David | 6:15 AM

  What3ver. Y0u d0nt sc4re
me, runt.

  Posted by: G0Liath | 6:28 AM

  Not only do we know you’re in the Valley of Elah, but we know you’re from Gath. You’ve got family there, don’t you? I’m sure they’d love to know what barbaric things you’re doing to other people’s sites.

  Posted by: David | 7:01 AM

  Big wh00p. Any0n3 wiTh half a brain c0uLd figur3 that 0ut.

  Posted by: GOLiath | 8:21 AM

  We’re gonna cut the snake off at the head, if you know what I mean.

  Posted by: David | 9:23 AM

  So c0m3 aNd get m3, c0w4rd!

  Posted by: G0Liath | 9:41 AM

  Look out your tent. You should see me standing about 100 feet from your camp on the mountain.

  Posted by: David | 9:49 AM

  ***COMMENTS CLOSED BY HOST***

  From: http://www.benfranklin.org/blog/

  Subject: Journaling June, Seventeen Hundred Fifty-two

  I so blacked out again last night.

  So get this—I totally wake up this morning, way wiped, facedown in what tastes like a puddle of rainwater, a bunch of street kids dancing around me like I was some kind of fat pig at a picnic. I am OUT OF IT. There’s some damn cloth and string tied up all around me and a big ol’ key in my hands. I bolted as quick as I could get myself untangled—I didn’t need the attention.

  Look, at least it wasn’t as bad as last time, when I woke up after those bastard Founding Fathers wrote less than cool nicknames all over my forehead in black ink. And it wasn’t nearly as embarrassing as the time I found myself stark naked and wrapped in a half-finished American flag. Doh! A certain BR was none too pleased that I had soiled her hard work.