Greetings! You are reading an article from The Mudville Gazette. To reach the front page, with all the latest news and views, click the logo above or "main" below. Thanks for stopping by!
April 16, 2003
(2300 UTC 9 Apr) I will give quick updates when I can. It's crowded where I am now. There are the whole surviving family and lots of doubles. But we get good nights sleep. Hey! You don't worry, Ooglay is safe. I see me three times on TV today! I hold up sign and picture of Georgebush! Ha Ha! Picture is from toilet paper roll, stupid pigs. Now I am safe in...No! last time I say that I get a good Air Force Bombing! Ooglay not stupid twice! I will be to writing much more soon. Keep looking! And you who came across the border from the other nations to support us, keep fighting to the death! My glorious Father needs a little more time to cut a deal with Allah...
(0012 UTC 10 Apr) Okay Ooglay just finished diary updating and sending to be posting. Now someone new shows up in underpalace escape tunnel. Who is this Mohammed Saeed al-Sahhaf? He is saying he is "Information Minister" but we never see him before. I am thinking he is big liar. Okay I am sleeping, don't worry if you don't hear for a while, okay?
(1800 UTC 10 APR) Okay still in the tunnel getting ready to go "up north". How you passing time? You say. Well we have game called "Who is real Uday?" that we play sometimes. Very funny with lots of doubles like now. And that reminded me to post new thing down below just a little. Anyhow if Qusay double #6 can get Satcom working (he is good at such things, trained by French!) we will all be watching Friends soon. Also maybe then we find out about lies this al-Sahhaf character is to be telling. Pull statue down of glorious father? I'm not thinking so. Uday double #4 almost shot him for his perfidy, but we have no more room for corpses here. Time for dinner. I'm supposed to cook but hey! I'll make one of my doubles do it!
(1900 UTC 10 APR) Okay now double is making dinner so Ooglay has time to issue my Glorious Father's final ultimatum to you imperialist American infidel Dogs: This is last chance to turn around your little tanks before we spring big trap and kick your ass out of Baghdad! Now Go!
(2300 UTC 10 APR) Hello it is Ooglay. Well, lucky for Qusay 6 he got Satcom working. Lots of 'Friends' fans here. Hey, you Americans can maybe explain what is something we are only thinking here: Ross is fag, yes? We can not be telling with Hollywood Americans. Well, ER is to be sucking tonight so I am going soon to sleep. Sorry for if you Americans haven't seen this yet. And hey! Where is Seinfeld Jew show? Who cares. He was funny Jew. Ooglay likes some funny singer dancer Jews. So what? We still hate your culture. A little while ago we made Uday 5 go outside (he is one who is missing arm and leg from April fools anyway, plus lost eye in explosion) and see if anyone would shoot him. He comes back with no new bullet holes so looks like is coast is clear so far. Some want to send Ooglay double, but hey! I only have 2, plus my last humanshield. Anyway, maybe before dawn we make run for "up north." Secret plan is called "Follow the Rockets".
(1000 UTC 11 APR) Shhhhhh! We are moving "up north". It is dreadful trip. Humanshield on top of limo keeps thumping roof. Hard to enjoy countryside with all that racket. Uday 5 not tie him tight enough, but not bad for one-handed man. Well, he will soon be finding we are not needing him to be alive to fool Predators Missiles. Also for further diminishing of enjoyment is from water I was drinking not in bottle I am having "stomach troubles". (I know! 'Ooglay Hussein's diarreah!' very fonny, not laughing thankyouverymuch.) And Glorious Father says "Baghdad in the rearview and we are not stopping til Tikrit". Then he is smacking Uday and Qusay double with his sandal for arguing over GameBoy. Always I am hating long trips with family. By the will of Allah may we arrive soon!
(1400 UTC 11 APR) Okay yes is slow trip for some roadblocks, okay? And here is funny story for many Kangaroo Lover Aussies okay? Ooglay knows you are reading yes? Don't be surprised! Here is not-so-funny close call as we approach roadblock. It is Aussie troops of coalition! So Glorious Father does not even begin to be producing sweat as trooper comes to look upon us in the limo. I am in fourth seat back holding gun on humanshield but behind his back because we brought him down for roadblocks and I hear Great Father telling aussieman "yes yes, that is me. Quigley Down Under" and so I am knowing he is using Tom Selleck routine on this infidel.
(1930 UTC 12 APR) Okay Ooglay is getting ready to call it a day today. It is by the will of Allah that my family is staying with good friends in what is now "Free Republic of Iraq". So now is quite time and Ooglay has been how you would say lonely? And it is that I am thinking even some American girl is pretty. You know who I mean? Is Nancy Pigloosy. Very hot, you Americans would say, and friendly. She could not keep hands off Ooglay when she is visiting in secret. But also I must be true and say she was thinking Oogly is his father. She is not so smart of a girl and also too late I am seeing she is talking too much and "hey let's watch West Wing" and also says she is something how you say "snuggler?" In fact now I am getting clearer memory maybe not so hot, but a stalker type for sure. But if she was back here now who knows? Anyway after a week you know Ooglay is really tired of putting up with all the chatter and the whining about if I am "getting her message" or whatever and so it is time for "out the door you go!" And she is stomping away down driveway to the road shoving undies in purse and "flipping bird" (I know you American customs) when Ooglay is yelling "Oh yea? It is Ooglay, not his Glorious Father, who is not even offering cab fare!" And she is saying "Do you know who I am? Do you know who I am? I will have that statue torn down and pissing in fountain in my entry hall!" She points at Father's glorious statue in square and I am saying "Oh? You and what Army?" And she is turning hot red!
(1730 UTC 13 APR) Ace of Spades? Glorious father! Ace of Hearts? Esteemed Uday! Ace of Clubs? Fearless Qusay! Ace of Diamonds? Abid Hamid Mahmud al-Tikriti. Who? Father's secretary?! Secretary! Ooglay is too greatly angered to be typing in your infidel monkey tongue now...
(0000 UTC 14 Apr) Praise to Allah that Friday the 13th is ending, even though it was falling on a Sunday this month, okay? First badness is leaving Tikrit swiftly on back of stinking pig farm truck, next is card deck, then then I see this online. And most outrageous story of all is this story with a pictures. This is to be outraged! This is Ooglay's home! So I have pictures of Dad and mistress, so what? Ooglay too angry to write today. I can't be believing that I tell about PigLoosy woman just last night and now here is place we made the movie of love showing up in our internet! Allah why are you hating Ooglay today!!!??? (oh yes, no you reading be listening to me like as if I am having their accents: Yeah Baby! Shagariffic! Pretty good huh?)
(11:00 UTC 14 APR) Hello it is Ooglay. Please to be believing I swear on my mothers purity we are not bound for Syria. We are going to Iran! We wil be in Teheran tonight. I hope Donny Romsfield doesn't find out and bomb them into stone age! Don't tell him! Then it is to Tel Aviv we go, then exile in London, okay. No Russia, too cold! Brrrrr Moscow bad! And Glorious Father is loving Fish and Chips.
(1400 UTC 14 APR) Okay so who would be thinking how bad things could go? Sometimes it would seem that Allah wills nothing but disaster for Ooglay and his family!
(2230 UTC 14 APR) Hello stupid Americans! Here is what I am greeting you with today: Ooglay is hoping you are enjoying giving your taxes money to Georgesboosh! Maybe he will be building new statues in Basra and putting some Iraqi gas in Bart Simpson's Sport Utility Vehicle with your infidel unclean dollars stupid Americans.
(2245 15 APR) Okay yes hello now I am needing this quickly, okay? We are going very slow yes over the mountains going into Iran pulling this big U-Haul trailer. We are not in flat desert going towards Syria. So say if you are or know anyone flying two F/A 18 Hornet Ground Attacking type aircraft bristling with shiny air-to-ground missiles and you are flying somewhere near border of Syria well, hey! That is not Saddam Hussein convoy under you okay? Those just peaceful Iraqi ladies traveling towards Syria with Uhaul. See the pretty ladies waving at you Mr F/A 18 Pilot. That is not just Hussein family painted up like French Whores okay, so go away looking for them somewhere else, okay? We are all women driving way from you. No business of yours okay don't launch those missiles just turn around tell them because Husseins are getting away and into Iran so yes please to be saving those million dollar missiles for Ayatollah whoever this week over in Iran I don't care go blow him up before Saddam gets to him with WMD okay not on road to Damascus that's someone else go away now tell them North Korea called and said Georgeboosh is big fat looser with druggy prostitute daughters you know and wife and mother ugly in 10 different ways. Go away Navy Attack Aircraft good riddance already that is not us just whistling minding own business...
(1500 UTC 16 APR) Okay so maybe you are to be telling me - is this a funny thing? We are waiting at oasis with French gas station that is definitely no-where-near-Syrian border for some of my Glorious Father's (for whom I would to this day chew my arm off if I could use it to beat on Tommyfranks and his million marines!) ministers who are to be bringing seven sacks of US dollars to us in our time of need. So we are even ignoring the buzzing predators what are flying around because hey! We have been made up to appear to be beauteous Iraqi Woman by friend who is expert at such things and who is joined us very recently. I will tell you much more of him later. But funny thing is Uday, who seemed to need less help then others in becoming more like his sister, is now getting how you say "cocky"? He is running around in open doing foul belly dancing for predator with cameras sending image to who knows. I am not liking because even though unmanned predator has what you Americans call Hellfire missile with Ooglays name on it. This is too much trust in Will of Allah for even my Glorious Father who is soon chasing Uday back into Fina Gas Station with slappings from his wondrous sandal which I would never hope to fill.
(1930 UTC 16 APR) Okay now we are moving swiftly away from Damascus towards Teheran and mushroom cloud of a gas station is small blot on rearview and no one is wanting to stop for restroom breaks for some reason now. So I am having some time for the writing.
(13:15 UTC 17 APR) Hello again to America and England and Australia and also all the good countries in the world. It is Ooglay again, okay? Yes yes hello except now I am sitting in biggest Mosque in downtown Teheran, you know the one with all the tall minarets, yes? I am certainly hoping Don Satan Romsfield is not to be shooting Cruise missiles in here like last time I said where I was with my Glorious Father! (who I would never turn over for any amount I have so far heard you cheap CIA swine!) Well Donny Cowboy maybe you should take those big YankeeBritAussies away from Syria border and all major intersections on the way where they aren't needed and be moving them to Iran border where everybody is just walking across like no problem with loads of antiquities, okay? Just some advice from me because I like you, you swine.
(20:40 UTC 18 APR) Hey look I'm writing while you reading so get ready for new stuff soon! This is important though so quick! Okay, you in the Baghdad zoo, you know what to be feeding Lions? Kurds! Feed them just Kurds! No whey! Ha! Sometimes I am making myself to be laughing so hard that I am soiling my camel-hair thong!
(22:30 UTC 22 APR) Hello it is Ooglay. Big changes are coming. Things just not the same. Other day in store Qusay 3 is angry at man selling hookahs for too much! So he says "Don't you know me?" and pulls gun and shop man says "No!" and pulls gun and then we run and he is shoting and wings a human shield still with us in Iran. So I guess we are not so popular here as Iraq. I am hardly believing we are here in Teheren staying right near Ayatollahs palace, so please Romsfield do not do your shockanaw here! We don't need Teheran (where whole Hussein family is hiding not in Iraq still or Syria and Chalabi is an idiot) to be blown into a pile of rock and donkey parts.
(2230 UTC 23 APR) Hello peace be unto you, swine. Here again is Ooglay, once and future prince of Iraq. Smell of Spring is in air here in Teheran, smelling now the turds of a thousand camels as the warmth of spring spreads through the market stalls. Ahhhh, fresh goat's head! Ahhhhhh, the entrails of a sheep! No where is to be compared to Teheran in April! I am remembering now when spring came to Baghdad and I was a young boy! And who is not being able to relate to this: my father is on riding mower, cutting the lawn of the palace. Oh how I wished he would give me a turn! The shining of the sun, the blowing of cool breeze, the smiling of my father as he missed not a single spot! His glorious attention to detail is what brought him fame and the good will of Allah! Oh how I remember the singing of the birds, drowned out by the roar of the big tractor lawnmower and the screaming of the Shi'ites buried up to their necks...
Posted by / April 16, 2003 10:20 AM | Permalink
November 26, 2010
I think anyone who's ever pondered the "comment" option - once only available on blogs and bulletin boards, now ubiquitous on almost any web site - will appreciate this:
The so-called faculty of writing is not so much a faculty of writing as it is a faculty of thinking. When a man says, "I have an idea but I can't express it"; that man hasn't an idea but merely a vague feeling. If a man has a feeling of that kind, and will sit down for a half an hour and persistently try to put into writing what he feels, the probabilities are at least 90 percent that he will either be able to record it, or else realize that he has no idea at all. In either case, he will do himself a benefit.
That's wisdom from the past, captured for posterity at the US Naval Institute, shared via the web on the institute's 137th anniversary.
From their about page:
"The Naval Institute has three core activities," among them, History and Preservation:
The Naval Institute also has recently introduced Americans at War, a living history of Americans at war in their own words and from their own experiences. These 90-second vignettes convey powerful stories of inspiration, pride, and patriotism.
Take a look at the collection, and you'll see it's not limited to accounts from those who served on ships at sea, members of the other branches are well-represented.
I'm fortunate to have met USNI's Mary Ripley, she's responsible for the institute's oral history program (and she's the daughter of the late John Ripley, whose story is told here). She also deserves much credit for their blog. ("We're not the Navy nor any government agency. Blog and comment freely.") We met at a milblog conference - Mary knew (and I would come to realize) that milbloggers are the 21st-century version of exactly what the US Naval Institute is all about. Once that light bulb came on in my head, I mentioned a vague idea for a project to her - milblogs as the 21st century oral history that they are.
"Put that in writing," she said (of course - see first paragraph above!) - and here's part of the result.
Shortly after the first tent was pitched by the American military in Iraq a wire was connected to a computer therein, and the internet was available to a generation of Americans at war - many of whom had grown up online. From that point on, at any given moment, somewhere in Iraq a Soldier, Sailor, Airman or Marine was at a keyboard sharing the events of his or her day with the folks back home. While most would simply fire off an email, others took advantage of the (then) relatively new online blogging platforms to post their thoughts and experiences for the entire world to see. The milblog was born - and from that moment to this stories detailing everything from the most mundane aspects of camp life to intense combat action (often described within hours of the event) have been available on the web...
And et cetera - but since you're reading this on a milblog, you probably knew that. And you know that milblogs aren't just blogs written by troops at war, that many friends, family members, and supporters likewise documented their story of America at war online in near-real time, as those stories developed.
The diversity in membership of that group is broad, the one thing we all have in common is the impulse to make sense of the seemingly senseless, and communicate the tale - for each of us that impulse was strong enough to overcome whatever barriers prevent the vast majority of people from doing the same. Everyone at some point has some vague idea they believe should be shared - we were the people who, from some combination of internal and external urging, found and spent those many half hours persistently trying to write it down.
But where will all that be in another 137 years? Or five or ten, for that matter. That's something I've asked myself since at least 2004 - when I wrote this:
Membership in the ghost battalion has grown in the years since, and an ever growing majority of those abandoned-but-still-standing sites are vanishing. Have you checked out Lt Smash's site lately? How about Sgt Hook's? If you're a long-time milblog reader you know the first widely-read milblog from Operation Iraq Freedom and the first widely-read milblog from Afghanistan are both gone from the web. If you're a relative newcomer to this world you may never even have heard of them - or the dozens upon dozens of others who carried forth the standard they set down.
If you have a vague notion that something should be done about that, (a notion I've heard expressed more than once...) then you and I and the good folks at the US Naval Institute are in agreement. Preserving the history documented by the milbloggers is just one of the goals of the milblog project, the once-vague idea that we're now making real.
And it's a big idea, if I say so myself - too big to explain in one simple blog post, so stand by for more. Likewise, it's too big a task to be accomplished by just one person. So if you're a milblogger (and exactly what is a milblogger? is a topic for much further discussion on its own) I'm asking for your help. All I'll really need is just a little bit (maybe just one or two of those half hours...) of your time, and your willingness to tell the tale.
We've already made history, it's time to save it.
(More to follow...)
The Mudville Gazette is the on-line voice of an American warrior and his wife who stands by him. They prefer to see peaceful change render force of arms unnecessary. Until that day they stand fast with those who struggle for freedom, strike for reason, and pray for a better tomorrow.
Furthermore, I will occasionally use satire or parody herein. The bottom line: it's my house.
I like having visitors to my house. I hope you are entertained. I fight for your right to free speech, and am thrilled when you exercise said rights here. Comments and e-mails are welcome, but all such communication is to be assumed to be 1)the original work of any who initiate said communication and 2)the property of the Mudville Gazette, with free use granted thereto for publication in electronic or written form. If you do NOT wish to have your message posted, write "CONFIDENTIAL" in the subject line of your email.
Original content copyright © 2003 - 2011 by Greyhawk. Fair, not-for-profit use of said material by others is encouraged, as long as acknowledgement and credit is given, to include the url of the original source post. Other arrangements can be made as needed.
Contact: greyhawk at mudvillegazette dot com