The Lost Blogs Page 8
More later!
From: http://www.isaacnewton.com/blogstore/
Subject: On the Subject of Gravitation (and, Shirts)
’Tis the subject of gravitation that has most likely drawn you, dear readers, to my location here. And wherest I initially found it confounding that such subject matter would resonate so deeply with the public, time told the tale and proved me wrong.
Soon after, the letters began arriving—many from those who once knew me at Cambridge and continue to make my acquaintance to this day. Others, looking for the “Newton Apple”—that which struck me upon my head which sparked the notion of gravitation into my mind. Before long, the tale of the Newton Apple shirt was born!
Just as the famous “Newton apple” descended downward (and not sideways or upward) due to gravity—so too has the price of the Newton Apple Shirt (pictured below)!
(Newton Apple Shirt in S, M, L, XL, XXL)
Made from the finest wool from the finest sheep from the finest county around (Lincolnshire), the “Newton Apple Shirt” can be worn with your finest threads, to events big and small, all the while you will subtly be communicating your belief in gravity, your support of yours truly, and your love of all apples great and small.
[Click here to purchase!]
Other “Newton Apple” products are well on their way! The “Newton Apple Tunic,” the “Newton Apple Wig” and the most widely requested item since the inception of this site, the “Newton Apple, Apple”!
From: http://www.alanturing.com/blog/
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From: http://www.pocahontas-theAlgonquian.com/blog/
Subject: Powhatan, Kocoum and I
First, please forgive me and my URL. It became apparent to me, however horribly, that another Algonquian from Tenakomakah swooped in like an eagle and took the pocahontas.com domain name. It appears as if there are more than one of our tribe who consider themselves “playful” and “frolicsome” and deserving of a place to express their thoughts.
If you have come looking for Matoaka (Pocahontas), then you are in the correct place. If you are looking for the other who calls herself Shurbaota (Pocahontas), then you should turn around and go here.
Now to Powhatan and Kocoum.
My father, whom you all know (Powhatan), has seen fit to determine who it is that I, a young girl of only twelve seasons, should join with. This… Kocoum. At first, all that I could muster was a growl of a tiger… The annoying screech of the midnight owl. The quiet of the reeds in the Tenakomakah waters was nowhere to be heard. I was angered, but could not do anything against my father.
Shaori and I sat and talked for some time about being promised to another. She, of course, gave my soul a great deal of peace when she suggested that at least we weren’t being forced on the white man. The colonists who come from far away, eating up the land like carnivores. We laughed about the horrid white man and their technologies. Their dirtiness. Their inability to communicate. Their lack of respect for the nature that surrounds us all.
At least you don’t have to be with a white man, Shaori told me. It was a truth as real as the grass beneath our bare feet.
When my father placed me alongside Kocoum, as he stripped the carcass of a doe, I found myself humbled by his strength and courage and honor and dedication to both my father, our tribe and me. And he wasn’t a white man. Eiiiiwwwwwwww. Gross.
The lesser of two evils is always the best in any decision…
And so, I, Matoaka—will look forward to the time when my age will ripen and to when Kocoum and I will find our paths intertwined … Together… Fate will find us, as it always does!
Check him out! Look at his bare, rocklike stomach!
From: http://www.hgwells.com/
Subject: Queries Abound!
Indeed, it’s no surprise I’m still attempting to complete my latest novel, one which looks as if it will be the first published document ever in my life—an honor that I must admit both frightens me and inspires me. Nonetheless, I have yet to explain the concept but I must keep it a secret until the final version of the book has been unveiled.
Yes, I will admit that the novel is taking much longer than previously expected—but it is not due to any creative block of the mind, of that you must be sure. I simply must get things perfect. This is my goal. I have received many letters from those wondering when this delayed manuscript will be forthcoming (including my publishers) but there is nothing to fear. This first book will be completed extremely soon! All of the hard questions have been answered—I am simply dotting my i’s and crossing my t’s and putting the very very final final touches on my masterpiece!
In the meantime, in an attempt to keep my audience constantly guessing, I am putting up a brand-new feature I have dubbed “Questions from Beyond” where you answer questions you have absolutely no real basis of study in answering, but which you answer nonetheless, simply because I ask you to. (Again, these are random hypothetical questions, in no particular order, whose subject matter really has nothing to do with anything.)
Question #1: Let’s say you created a machine that would allow you to travel through time. Where would you go?
Question #2: Assume for a second that something like that was even possible (which it’s not, and no one is even postulating or writing about such a fact), but once you got there, what do you think you’d find?
Question #3: Do you think you’d be pleased if you met a female of the species there? Would she have light hair or dark hair? Would she wear clothing that accentuated her legs?
Question #4: On a totally unrelated note, would you call this machine simply “the time machine” or would you name it after a family member (e.g., the HG Wells Machine)?
Question #5: Changing subjects for a moment—if you had to name a strange group of people you’d never met before in a strange society you’d never been to before some fashion of strange foreign-sounding name,
what name do you think you’d use?
Question #6: Totally going off subject again, but I must wonder aloud—would a story about a machine going into another time benefit from adding in political commentary or allegorical references to today’s society?
Question #7: Do you fancy fish and chips? Or tea and crumpets?
Yes, I know. Simply ludicrous notions and questions just for the sake of asking silly little questions of my readers! Sometimes, the stranger and more nonsensical questions make this feature even more amusing! I can’t wait to see your responses when you send them to me at hgwells@wells.co.uk. Seriously, send them soon so I can laugh about them with my colleagues! Send them now, if you can. I have to go out later and I’d like to read them all very quickly before I have to go out… I have dinner with my publisher! Yes, just answer them now. Go ahead. Do it now.
If you can send some of your answers tonight, I’ll take time out from finishing my first novel to peruse your simply crazy answers to such illogical queries.
As for the book… the finished copy will be completed very very very soon!
Thank you!
HG.
From: http://www.odysseus.gr/blog/
Subject: Helen = Problems
May Zeus save me from this curse!
You may remember my previous entry about Helen, daughter of Tyndareus. The numerous suitors competing for her attention and hand in marriage. The final result being Menelaus. The suitors’ agreement to defend Helen’s choice in any future battles. And so on and so on and so on.
And now here I sit, years into the battle against the city of Troy—the result of Paris and Helen’s forbidden love and him taking her from her rightful mate. The result of being recruited by Agamemnon (agamemmy@sparta.com) to defend her honor and return her home.
I am charged with filling a wooden device filled with soldiers that Epeius has been directed to build. The evening prior, while camped on the hill overlooking Troy, we discussed what sort of wooden device would fitfully hold enough warriors to do irreparable damage to the unsuspecting city of Troy.
Epeius drew up plans to build a boar, an ox, a cow and a rabbit. I looked over such plans but there appeared to be little space for those chosen to take on such a mission. I thought long and hard about size, the element of surprise, and the ease of skill in building such a device and came up with the final thought that…
… such a device is insanity.
Personally, had I woken up to a knock on the door of my estate and stood eye-to-eye with a lumbering, huge monolith in the shape of an ox or a cow or a boar… Suspicion would run rampant. Such creatures are simply not indigenous to these lands. Whoever’s idea was such, should honestly be hung. Puh-leeeeze. A huge wooden animal? It’ll never work!
I came up with an elephant! If you’re going to build something… If you must build something, as it has been ordered, then the least suspicious of all in the kingdom of animals is the elephant! Of this I am sure. Elephants, I have heard, at least will travel from door to door in a populated area or throughout the countryside. They are sociable animals that I think would not shy away from a quick greeting or knock at the door. But an ox or a cow or a boar or a rabbit? Not sociable animals at all, nor do they have a trunk, which is perfect for knocking on things. An elephant. That is what it must be.
I will present this idea when morrow comes—as for this evening, I will practice my reasons for building such a nonsuspicious creature out of wood.
May Zeus protect my ideas from being ignored!
From: http://www.london_jack.com/ripper-blog/
Subject: Another Lonely Night…
Aaah, another lonely night as the words prior so eloquently state.
Here I sit, with my feet up by the fireplace, hot cup of tea by my side… Both my little best friends lying at my feet (Willingsworth and Frannie, the English setters)… And a wish in my heart for a soul mate just like myself.
The luck, it seems, is only set aside for the Irish and not the English, as I am.
Often I sit, scribbling in my journal, writing about the future I see for myself. A loving wife, whom I adore and wait on hand and foot—bringing her flowers for simple occasions and rubbing her feet after a hard day’s labour. The two of us, we’re inseparable. We finish each other’s sentences. She adores me almost as much as I adore her. How can there be no woman who matches such qualities in a city as large as London?
Sometimes, I find myself walking the night streets looking for such a soul mate. Looking for a woman who makes my life complete. Fills my face with colour. Completes my soul in a way that turns its half into a whole.
But alas, she [or you, if you are reading this] is never there.
I am a respectful man. A successful man. A dedicated man. My looks, they may not slay a thousand maids but they are not off-putting. But beauty, at least in my eyes, is never just on the surface. It’s what’s inside that matters most. As such, when I meet a lady for the first time, I do not gaze endlessly at her milky white skin or her supple breasts—but I instead gaze deep into her eyes and into her soul. That is where a true woman exists.
Did I mention my e-mail? You can get me a message at jack@londonjack.com.
Sadly, no one has contacted me via such a way, but I am always hopeful that someday the woman I am fated to meet will contact me. That the two of us will meet in a neutral place, preferably late at night (I am truly a night owl, when the stars are bright in the night sky and the fog has lifted) and that she will fall for me in a way she has never fell before.
Here’s to you milady—wherever you are!
J.
From: http://www.thomas_crapper.com/blog/
Subject: Another Visit with Your Favorite Crapper!
I spent some valuable time with the littlest Crapper in all of England this past weekend when I was invited to the Norfolk house of Prince Edward to consult him about adding an astounding thirty lavatories to his Sandringham House.
George, my nephew, who is indeed the smallest Crapper in the entire family, was invited to the job so that he may learn the ins and outs of being a well-respected, highly admired, thorough and professional Crapper. Needless to say, the little Crapper has got a lot to learn if he ever wants to match up to the biggest Crappers in the family business.
Upon returning home, I finished the item pictured here, that I have previously mentioned to you through this blog, that I have called the “ballcock”—a floating mechanism I believe will someday make my “valveless water waste preventer” a reality. Personally, I must say that there’s nothing more exciting than being a bona fide Crapper and holding a ballcock in your hands at the same time. Just knowing that this family of Crappers was responsible is more than worthwhile.
As you’ve all seen in the advertisements, we Crappers want to bring a comfortable and sanitary experience to you and to a lavatory that will serve as an extension to your main house. As a well-known Crapper, you know that such a thing is the highest on my list of priorities.
But before presenting people with my ballcock, integrated into a toilet, it is necessary to come up with a variety of names for this new device that would honor some of the greatest Crappers around. Such a name should be dignified and instill respect and when the time is right, I will reveal the chosen phrase to all. The official name for one of civilization’s most civilized devices! Here’s a couple of such ideas to whet your appetite:
Underground water-filled pipe mechanism
Force-powered lavatory symphonic flush
Ceramic gold-plated sanitary sitting facility
My hope, of course, is that one of these very descriptive and honourable names will both describe the technology and honour yours truly as the dignified Crapper that I am… Doing my part in bringing comfort, safety and a solitude to those looking for the kind of experience that only a true Crapper can know.
Pictures of Sandringham House
Pictures of “My Ballcock”
Pictures of a Crapper, doing what he does best
From: http://www.robertfrost.com/blog/
Subject: From New Hampshire to New York
As I previously mentioned, I felt it necessary to take a trip for the soul this week. A journey from my home in New Hampshire to New York. Of course, the originating locale and the destination were never the important elements of such a journey—it’s what’s in between that matters.
Of course, without the luck of the Irish, I found myself halfway through my journey in a wooded place when a tire burst loudly and stranded me (a stranger in a strange land) with no map, no directions, and a winding road becoming two. My direction, of course, was as lost to me as I was lost myself.
One, it seemed, had been traveled on repeatedly. It was worn and weathered, traveled upon constantly on a daily basis, while another was overgrown, obviously avoided by many. With a flat tire and night rapidly approaching, I did what any sane man would do. I headed down the pathway, tire in hand, that was obviously traveled upon most frequently.
About three miles ahead, I found a gas station attendant who repaired my tire and gave me a ride back to my car where he assisted me in affixing the tire back onto the vehicle.
It was, to say the least, the best decision of my entire life.
Now, back here in my study in beautiful and lush Franconia, I find myself searching for the rhythm and prose for my next poetic work. If only there was something in a flat tire and a walk to an out-of-the-way gas station… well, if only! Passion and creativity, it seems, do not come when you call it. You must wait for inspiration and be surprised by it… I guess, just as a flat tire rears its ugly head as well.
In the meantime, I would like to introduce a brand-new feature on my blog called You Give Me a Dollar and I Write You a Poem with Your Name in It! What better way to surprise your family or friends than a poem written about them, with their name included inside? Well, far better than a tie or a doll, I can tell you that.