SoylentNews is people
SoylentNews
Adrian Cronauer, the real live DJ portrayed by Robin Williams in the movie "Good Morning Vietnam" just passed, https://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-44897634 (many other obits also available).
Keen to travel, Cronauer says he actually volunteered for a transfer to Vietnam, where he was hired initially as a news director for Armed Forces Radio there.
After his morning presenter left, he took up the 06:00 Dawn Buster show mantle, greeting troops with an enthusiastic yell of: "GOOOOOOOOD morning, Vietnam!"
Cronauer soon found out while interviewing troops that his ironic salute was often met with "the GI equivalent of: Get stuffed Cronauer" on bad days, he recounted at a veterans event in 2008.
"On one occasion, a guy picked up his M16 and blew away his radio," he told the Americans Veterans Centre conference.
Did any Soylentils hear him — live — in Vietnam?
(Score: 1, Offtopic) by Runaway1956 on Tuesday July 24 2018, @03:02PM
I can't explain anything about it, but shit's for real - at least sometimes.
You've just arrived in Palermo, Sicily, by ship. The place is postcard perfect - it looks as beautiful as all the pictures you've ever seen. From the wharf you're docked at, the old city looks like it's been stuffed into a teacup, and you're at the bottom. You break away from all the shipmates, and head out to explore the terraces above you. Lots of beautiful girls, fantastic architecture, exotic food all around, vendors selling anything and everything. After a couple hours, you spy an indoor and outdoor restaurant. Take a seat under an umbrella, and browse the menu, which you only half understand.
You're enjoying a delicious meal, when some asshole - probably a shipmate who has found you - says, "You've got to get out of here." You look around, and there's no shipmate. You look again, and you're not sure there's an English speaker anywhere near you. Hmmmm. Take a couple more bites, and you hear, "You've got to get out of here, NOW!" Look around with the same results - there are no Yanks in the vicinity.
Think a couple seconds, stand up, throw a handful of money on the table, and walk. North, along the terrace, cross the street to the downhill side, then make a right down into the teacup at the first intersection. And, all hell breaks loose behind you - it's a frigging war zone. Stop, think, "What should I do?" "Well, whatever is happening, I have no orders, and it's probably not my fight."
At the bottom of the teacup, go back aboard ship, and report what you've heard, without mentioning any guardian angels or anything.
Next morning, the newspapers are filled with details of a Mafioso hit. There's the picture of your table, shot full of holes, upended in front of the shot out windows.
Do I believe in this shit? Hell yes, and hell no. Can't explain it, can't even make any rational attempt to explain it - but it happened.
We're gonna be able to vacation in Gaza, Cuba, Venezuela, Iran and maybe Minnesota soon. Incredible times.