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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! August 1, 2003 OOGLAY HUSSEIN'S DIARYBy Ooglay HusseinOkay may a thousand cursed greetings be showered upon your pig dog American infidel heads. Once again I am Ooglay in Baghdad, which you have rendered pre-Babylonian with your so-called smart bombings. Have you heard of my new recording career? Here is the story in my very own newspaper. "We must not let things slip away and our situation become desperate"... this is my favorite line of the whole thing. I thought it up myself. Soon my other nine new employers who are wanting to rule your country as some kind of Junta if I am correctly understanding things will be making their speeches of agreements with this. I have heard through sources though that Mr Howardean is going to jump ahead of the others though and not only be first but also will insult the others for not saying something sooner. "This is just our greatest fear become reality" He will say "because of Georgebush's actions Saddam Hussein is once again going to be the leader of the Iraqi people! This is just humiliating" I wrote that line for him myself. The "humiliating" part is for my Arab brothers. We are hating humiliation more then anything except jews, you know. So this statement is a show of great weakness among your people and will be giving some new strength of purpose to us in our battle with you infidel dogs. Speaking of humiliation, here is a humiliating story. I am traveling with photographer for New Yorks Time newspapers. We are almost out of film for the many pictures he is asking me to take of him "Please Ooglay take my picture with palace in background...please Ooglay to be taking my picture with this relic like I am stealing from museum...please Ooglay take my picture with hunk soldier..." so we go into little store with Fuji Film sign in window and guess what? It is store from my first day of war adventures! No! You are saying. Yes, I am saying, and same peasant shopkeeper! So the pig takes a minute to remember me and just before I am about to tell him I will be taking film without paying he is shouldering old standby Republican Guard issue FAMAS G2 and pointing the shaking business end at me! Now is when I am running like the glorious wind sent by Allah to cool my Fabled Father's sweating face on the hottest days of Jamadi-Ul-Awwal. And blessed be the will of Allah for the shakiness of the untrained shopkeeper who blasted holes in the glass window just before I hurled myself through it into the street, and thankful as I am for the soft landing it provided I do wish it was something other than camel dung that awaited me in the gutter. Or perhaps I am hoping that it wasn't something other then Camel dung. Better I never know, though the smell is truly haunting me to this day. And fool of a photographer is shooting pictures! Then the shopkeeper is pointing rifle at him and pulling the trigger but again by the will of Allah who apparently cares for infidel fools too the cheap French popgun jams. Still the cameraman is apparently having some sense because he is by now stepping through the gaping Ooglay-shaped hole in the window and moving quickly out of the possible field of fire. I however, am recognizing opportunity and grabbing swiftly and left-handedly a heaping scoop of offal from the collar of my newly tailored counterfeit Brooks Brothers and hurling with much velocity in his general direction. Then I too am running on the heels of the photographing heathen, and tripping him for fun as I pass him by. "A thousand pardons" I explain "I certainly did not mean to cause harm." Picking up his camera though I "accidentally" open the back and expose the roll of film. He makes a crying noise. "Again I beg for pardons, but I am not wise in the ways of these machines. Is this bad?" And I am stretching the film out as far as I can as he is standing to his feet. He is starting to say something but the ricochet of bullets from the pavement at our feet is telling me that the cursed shopkeeper is once again seeking to send me off to join my brothers in paradise. I toss the camera to the photo boy hoping to slow him enough that he will become the likely target (I will assist Allah with determining his will at any opportunity) and this seems to work because the last thing I see before running is a well placed shot that shatters the camera in his hand. Too late though I realize that the alley down which I am fleeing is a dead end. Turning to face my assailant a stroke of genius hits me. "Looters in your store" I shout and he turns to see someone entering his store. He fires a couple rounds in that direction but the gun jams again and now he runs back towards his store. I am hearing fighting noises from there but by now my witless pig of a photographer and I are running as swiftly as the flow of sewage through currents of the Tigris in another direction. Never before you Americans came was I so treated in a store in my own town! I am telling you pig Americans, the lawlessness of this city of yours is a disgrace! The complete works of Ooglay Hussein can be found here. Posted by Ooglay Hussein / August 1, 2003 6:35 PM | Permalink |
November 26, 2010America@war [Greyhawk]
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...) Posted 4:02 PM | Permalink |
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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 ![]() Tending Distant Far from hearth and home, watching What tales we'll tell When things grim Some distant sunset, vision fading Saluting fallen friends whose names - Greyhawk, Baghdad, December 2004 |