FATHER'S DAY
by Captain Ahab

Ahoy there me merry maties, intellectual buccaneers, and fellow pirates of common sense, fidelity, romance, the sober soul of this generation, and the Great Books. It's good to be back at the Good Ship's helm after letting Drake and Becket captain the last few perilous cruises. Our next regular issue will feature startling pictures of F. Scott Fitzgerald's Ghost which Becket shot at the Princeton reunions last weekend. Becket will provide a full account of how the melancholly Ghost climbed into the back seat of his convertible while he and his girlfriend were visiting F. Scott's grave in the Rockville Cemetery in D.C., on the Friday they were heading up to Princeton.

I'd like to dedicate this brief Jolly Roger Extra to my father and to all the fathers who took their children's upraising and education into their own hands. The fathers who didn't wait for volunteers to teach their children to read, who didn't entrust a village of government bureaucrats with the moral upbringing of their very own children. The fathers who taught their children values not by preaching, but by performing as moral artists in the living literature of life. The dads who defined the difference between right and wrong by doing right. The steadfast fathers who taught character by possessing it, and served their communities by serving their families. The devoted fathers who stood by the women that they chose to wed in holy matrimony, through sickness and through health as was promised; and who were bold enough to turn off the TV, oppose the dominant cultural commodores and Time Warner executives, and open their children's eyes to the beauty of the printed word. I thank ye all for passing along to me the Western Heritage.

I thank all of the resolute fathers who cared about the guys who their daughters brought home, and taught their sons to respect women by respecting their mothers, their sisters, their wives, and their daughters, thereby contributing to a context in which romance could blossom, families could endure, and poetry could rhyme and mean things. The reverential fathers who like Abraham lived with the constant acknowledgement of Truths greater than themselves, and who at times seemed willing to sacrifice that which was dearest to them so as to salute the ideals from which life derives its significance. The fathers who tempered life's ironies with humor and softened life's tribulations with sympathy, yet never used the world's imperfections and shortcomings as a justification for indulgence, irresponsibility, slacking, nor wrongdoing of their own. That reminds me of one of Drake's sonnets:

cxvi.
To my father, who watched over my course,
Straightened me when the winds blew me astray,
In times of emptiness he was the force,
That gave me reason to rise every day.
He believed in knowledge, and in pursuit
Of subtle truths that pervade all nature.
He perceived that Great Books, could a mind suit
With bold ideas to mold a greater future.
But O how far the world's from this ideal!
It's all just a game with no truth nor law,
Could not my father see that it's not real?
That there exists no good without its flaw.
He closed the Book, put it back on the shelf,
"Never confuse the world, son, with yourself."

Perhaps ye know of the type of father of which I speak, and if ye don't, perhaps ye could become one, or perhaps ye could marry one. The fathers who were as quick with forgiveness as they were with justice, and taught us of trust by being somebody that we could trust. The fathers who let the bike go that first time we rode it all by ourselves, who were there when we hit our first tennis ball as well as when we played our final match in high school, and who taught us to play by the rules, and made us understand that it was not if you won or lost, but how you played the game. The fathers who taught us T.S. Eliot's immortal words:

All men are ready to invest their money
But most expect dividends.
I say to you: Make perfect your will.
I say: take no thought of the harvest,
But only of proper sowing.
--From T.S. Eliot's "Choruses From The Rock"

And in saluting our fathers, so too do we salute our mothers, for it has been written that man and wife are but of one flesh. Know ye that those who revered their children shall be revered by their children, as sure as it is that those who defeated their children in tennis shall someday be defeated by their children, and then shall they rue the day whence they taught their kid how to hit topspin.

Families are cool, and without the dedicated fathers of which I speak, families would not exist. The fathers who never considered honesty, fidelity, and commitment to be a burden, but perceived the opportunity for correct action as a blessing. The fathers whose careers were their families, and whose work was their jobs. It's tough out there in the postmodern fog, trying to navigate a family along the straight and narrow when the traditional beacons have been deconstructed, and that's why it's cool that God endowed everyone with a moral compass of their own. I salute the fathers who maintained their faith in the postmodern fog, and taught their children how to use their compass. The fathers who passed along that which had been passed along to them, who cheerfully served in the community of eternal souls.

And without further adieu, I hereby dedicate Ahab's Shakespeare Sonnet Server to my dad, and I invite ye to drop on by and send a sonnet to yer father too, on Father's Day.

The Virtual Shakespearean Greeting Card Site http://jollyroger.com/beaconway/shakespearethoughts.html

All the best & Happy Father's Day, Dad,

Captain Ahab :)

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THE CREW SOUNDS OFF

From: Tara
To: becket@jollyroger.com
Subject: Sign me up!

To the crew of the Jolly Roger-

Why aren't you guys at my university? You've really hit the truth about Gen. X on the head with biting (and refreshing) accuracy. As a journalism student here at Boston U. taking courses for the summer, I am continually dissatisfied with being given assignments to write that are little more than PR fluff, getting sucked into nothing internships which are supposed to give me "real world experience," and working with others who cover the new season of ER in the art sections of their magazines as avant-garde journalism. As one may imagine, I found your web site and let out a long-withdrawn breath of relief. I am truly interested in your viewpoints, and I am also sick of the moody, whiney Gen-X disease found in much of today's writing and the invisible wall that is put up against many writers who are not ecstatic to throw themselves at the feet of New York publishers or (God forbid) MTV.

What I really want to know is, are you based solely out of Chapel Hill, or is this a movement branching out to other places? How can I get involved? Where can I get copies of your work?

Congratulations on not being sucked into the easy way out, the way of exploitation and cliches- keep it up.

Tara Yaekel

THE CAPTAIN RESPONDS: Agrhrgrh! Good to have ye aboard! Send in yer work; write the Truth and send it on! The Ship is ours, me merry maties, and so are the seven cyber seas. This fall we shall be starting two new sites, publishing our top-secret plans for COMMANDEERING THE LIBERAL INDUSTRIAL CULTURAL COMPLEX, and opening up Club Roger so that all of ye ruthless buccanneers scattered across the watery globe can get to know one-another. Keep the rudder straight! And our books & t-shirts can be bought at http://jollyroger.com/rogerlodge.html andhttp://jollyroger.com/loot.html .

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From: Jamie McDonald
To: mcgucken@jollyroger.com
Subject: Argrgrgrgrgrgr!

Ahoy, Cap'n. I just received me Drake Raft Field Trip and me Jolly Roger t-shirt. Now if I could just score a Jolly Roger flag, the homestead would become the bane of DC.

I read some guy's WWW page on which he had posted the correspondence he had traded with you. Apparently he was trying to say that literature should not be bogged down with politics. (Ever notice that it's only politics until it's proven true or at least popular?) It was most amusing considering the fact that all the liberal education establishment does these days is read politics into thing -- everything from architecture to anatomy. And the idea that literature has to be separate from politics (although it CAN be) is rather silly.

Enclosed in my copy of DRFT was your business card with the email "captain@jollyroger.com," yet on the web page it said that was Drake Raft's address. Careful... people might start doubting that Drake exists.

Smilin' Jim

THE CAPTAIN RESPONDS: A big ahoy to ye there, Smilin' Jim. Father's day is pretty much free from politics, unless you're a liberal, in which case it's a dreaded holiday which pays homage to an antiquated, oppressive, patriarchal tradition that seizes power from the State and places it in the hands of the individual, or something. And I know what yer smilin' about. Avast!

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captain@jollyroger.com
www.jollyroger.com
PO BOX 1087
Chapel Hill NC 27514