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Authors: Paul Davidson

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WHY IT ALL MAKES SENSE TO US COMMON FOLK

T STANDS FOR “TEA” BUT ALSO FOR “TROUBLE”

WAR SPELLED BACKWARDS IS “RAW,” WHICH IS HOW WE’RE ALL PROBABLY FEELING RIGHT ABOUT NOW DUE TO THIS ANNOYING BRITISH RULE
THING

WHAT YOU’RE ABOUT TO READ, YOU PROBABLY ALREADY KNOW, BUT ISN’T IT TIME WE ALL READ WHAT WE ALREADY KNOW SO WE CAN AGREE ABOUT
THE SUBJECTS CONTAINED THEREIN?

From:
http://www.blogs.fr/~vangogh/

Subject:
Elements of a Painting

Thank you all for your interest as of late in my paintings—things have been extremely tough, as I have chosen a profession
that often does not reward talent with financial stability. These days it seems that people only believe my paintings are
worth the value of the paint on the canvas, while I would have hoped that others could have seen the beauty and value within
each frozen moment that I have gazed upon and recreated.

Nevertheless, it is okay. Some of you have asked what I find beautiful. Where my images come from. I have said before and
will say it again—first I dream my dreams, and then I paint them. Everything comes from within, and beauty is, indeed, in
the eye of the beholder.

Personally, I find beauty in the natural moments around us. The stars in the sky. A flower in a vase. The human face, i.e.,
the nose, ears and mouth. There can be beauty in most anything and as long as one finds something worth looking at, there
are bound to be others.

Which brings me to the art of shaving.

I find that shaving is a very complicated job that requires the steadiest of hands. It’s ironic, that my hands can hold a
paintbrush without a tremor, yet when I bring a blade up to the side of my beard, my digits shake with terror. It’s amazing
to watch, as the hand holding said blade jerks back and forth as if it has a mind of its own. It has often made it hard to
shave my beard, and one of the reasons I leave it intact.

This week, however, I plan on shaving my beard completely off—and trimming my sideburns from next to my ears. As my great-nephew
will be visiting I would like to present myself in a far more conservative light as opposed to the manner in which I portray
myself when I am alone, working solitarily. If you must know, the last time my great-nephew visited me I was tired, unshaven
and slovenly—it scared him to see me in such a state of disarray.

That is why I have decided to snip the problem before he arrives, and allow the two of us to bond as I had hoped the previous
visit—a great-uncle and his great-nephew, two clean-cut relatives, comfortable with each other in each and every way.

You’ll probably never recognize me when I’m done!

From:
http://www.maryshelley.blog/

Subject:
Writer’s Block

You may remember my writings of
last week
in which I told you of the unique writing exercise I took part in with fellow literates like Dr. John Polidori. A ghost story
was the goal, and I was surprisingly dry of inspiration.

Yesterday evening, still desperate for such inspiration, I made my way to a local café where I sat with my journal, scribbling
notes. For most of the evening, things were quiet indeed, and I found myself wrapping things up as the sun began to set.

That was just about the time that “he” walked in.

Filled with liquor and the accompanying stench to prove it, the most uncoordinated human being I have ever seen pushed his
way in through the doors to the establishment. He was knocking over chairs and tables and moaning incoherent phrases that
no one could understand. Even for me, sitting at a corner table, his glazed eyes and hulking stature caused me to gather my
things and retreat to the other side of the café.

As he entered the establishment he knocked two candles off a nearby table, sending them crashing to the floor and lighting
a small curtain on fire—which fell and caused the man to scream in a rage that terrified most of us. His coordination faltering,
the man landed headfirst on yet another table, sending him crashing to the floor where he remained quiet from that point forward.

The waiter informed me that this drunkard, Franco, was often getting himself into trouble the likes of which no one had ever
seen—and that he was homeless and without family, often wandering the streets looking for someone or something to take him
in.
It was sad, of course, and it caused me to think for a moment about what it means to belong.

Nonetheless, after things calmed, I found my way back home where I continued to try and come up with a story for this ridiculous
literary challenge. And still, here I sit, without a subject, story or even an engaging character around which I could fashion
a story.

Maybe a good night’s rest will do my creative mind some good.

From:
http://www.julius_caesar.com/

Subject:
Thoughts of March

As I write this, I ready my campaign against Parthia—a victory that, if achieved, will bring Rome the wealth it once had and
lost. I find myself confident that such a campaign will be successful, bringing not just me but all Romans the spoils of victory.
Talk of this will do us no good as its success is already guaranteed by the almighty Jupiter.

Instead, let’s talk about some of my cohorts for a moment.

Specifically, I speak of Gaius Trebonius, Gaius Cassius Longinus and my cousin Marcus Brutus. The other evening we were all
sitting out under the stars talking of our past triumphs together and the future to come.

I recall saying to Brutus that I found myself looking to the month of April. That once March passed and the campaign against
Parthia began… that April should be a very pleasant month.

Yet Brutus simply said, “
Yeah, not so much
.”

I turned to Gaius Cassius and asked him if he might desire sharing a meal with me back at the palace—and he asked when. After
telling him that such a date should occur within the next seven days, he replied, “
Dear Caesar… why don’t we wait to make plans until, well, more time has passed?

First Brutus had no love of April. Then Gaius wanted to wait until more time has passed to share a meal together? I turned
to the last of my three, Gaius Trebonius, and asked him if, possibly, he wanted to go hunting the following week. His response?


Ask me in April
.”

I paused, eyeing all three of the men at my side. And with my forceful voice I demanded to know what was going on.

At first, the looks on their faces were taut—but then, smiles all around. These three men, whose careers had advanced and
whose previously murderous activities had been pardoned by yours truly… Caesar, suddenly began… one by one… to laugh.

First, Gaius Cassius, then Trebonius, and finally Brutus. Laughter all around. It seemed as if the joke was on me.

I said, “
Even you, Brutus
?”

The men by my side, those who surround me and support me, had fooled me with their innocent joke.


You guys
…” I said, scolding their practical joke.

They laughed some more and more and more until they couldn’t laugh anymore. It was, to say the least, a humorous and lighthearted
evening from then on.

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

Subject:

At a loss for words, today
.

From:
http://www.blogs.com/~l_ron.hubbard/

Subject:
On Stands Now!

Today marks an exciting milestone for yours truly.

My latest novel,
Final Blackout
, which many of you have heard me mention in previous posts, is now available for order. You can, of course, go to a store
and buy it there but if you order now from the link at the left—you’ll get a very special edition of the book from yours truly
and you don’t have to give your money away to the corporate bigwigs. Buy it
here
.

For those who don’t know,
Final Blackout
takes place in a futuristic world ravaged by thirty years of war and centers on the main character known simply as “The Lieutenant.”
Well, who is he? He’s charismatic. A leader. A statesman. The only man who is capable of taking power away from those who
have gained control in less than appealing ways. The book is getting a great deal of good reviews, great press, and a huge
100,000-copy first printing, which means it’s got to be good.

Funnily enough, one of my friends had read an early copy of the book and called me on the phone to discuss it the other day.
His comments were glowing, of course, and he spent a lot of time praising the core theme of the book—that one man can, indeed,
against insurmountable odds, do absolutely anything he sets his mind to. That one man, if he appears crazily passionate enough,
can convince a world of people to follow him in his cause no matter how insane or silly that cause may appear on the surface!

Then he joked and said that it almost felt like a religion unto itself!

We laughed about it for a few minutes, the fact that modeling any kind of religious following based on themes from a science
fiction book would just be plain silly. We talked about how hilarious it might have been had people modeled a religion after
H. G. Wells’s book
War of the Worlds
—you know, a religion that would be based on the theme of strange alien creatures that must be eradicated or else humans would
suffer! A religion based on getting rid of aliens! Hah !

We must have laughed for hours as we went through a variety of well-known pieces of literature, turning each one into our
own wacky religion. It was entertaining, to say the least.

Nonetheless, I digress.

So, don’t forget to visit the
L. Ron Hubbard Online Store
and purchase my latest book so that I am able to continue to bring you the quality science fiction literature that all of
you have grown to expect.

BOOK: The Lost Blogs
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