DEDICATION OF JOLLYROGER.COM AND THE JOLLYROGER.COM CHRISTMAS TREE!
NANTUCKET-BOUND DRAKE RAFT TO SHOVE OFF TOMORROW, DECEMBER 1st!
THE JOLLY ROGER, VOLUME 1, ISSUE 16, NOVEMBER 30th, 1995
copyright 1995 mcgucken & jollyroger.com. all rights reserved
THE JOLLY ROGER #16

Allow your eyes to drift to the right on the painting, and you shall catch sight of the Cape Lookout lighthouse. Built before the Hatteras light in 1859, it's sturdy structure survived an attempted demolition by explosives during the Civil War. Thus it's fitting that this well-weathered indestructible fixture should mark BeaconRay's Great Books Bookstore, where you shall be able to plunder the wonderful classics of the Western Canon and the Anchors of the Western Soul. BeaconRay's books sells the works which comprise the context in which all literature published by BeaconWay Press is composed. From here on out, each time we refer to one of these marvelous works in THE JOLLY ROGER, we'll have the Great Book in its entirety ready to ship to you at your request. Ahoy!

Which brings us to the Good Ship, flying the skull and bones, down in the sea of fog, battling the malignant phantoms and brutal elements which threaten the existence of the noble lighthouses, and thus the Good Ship's ability to safely navigate towards it's destination-- Greatness. Aye aye then maties! 'Tis a symbiotic existence 'tween the ship and the lighthouses, 'tween the body and the soul, 'tween the ephemeral political and the immortal Truths. Ahoy Ol' one Eye Rattly Bones, Patch, and Salt Water Veins, Catwoman and Pegleg Pete! The lofty lights provide THE ROGER with guidance and faith in the thick postmodern fog, while the Good Ship is the vessel by which we submerge ourselves partially in the destructive element, and battle face to face the dark forces that are inspired daily by the eradication of The Profound Beacons themselves. THE GOOD SHIP JOLLY ROGER is armed with the Western Canon, and she shall deliver broadside blasts of the Truth onto all those who seek the destruction of the Great Books of yesteryear, as well as those who prevent the Great Books we're writing from being published while corrupting the context in which Greatness can be Appreciated, so as to advance their political nihilism, pornagraphic culture, and inhumane, boring, feminist-MTV-slacker power structure. And woe to the intellectually indifferent University administrators, for by remaining silent as the Western Heritage-- the Cradle of Freedom-- was desecrated by your PC police and your Hollywood honorary degree recipients, you have spoken loudly, and announced to all that you are the Enemy of Shakespeare. Woe to the educational bureaucrats I say! Where wast thou when they were demolishing my fore-father's Labors and my children's Heritage? Where were ye scurvey dogs when I was getting kicked out of class my the hideous, vindictive feminist? I trust ye not, and thus I have taken the matters into me own hands! I have rounded up a Great Gang of over 2,000 Ruthless Merry Makers to wreak Havoc amongst the Truthless tax and tuition takers! Ahoy then Captain Kirk, Captain Kangaroo, Captain Stubing, Captain Crunch, and Not Cool Enough for a Nickname! As legends of THE GOOD SHIP's immense fortitude and invincible spirit propagate throughout the seven cyberseas, and as liberals begin to whisper amongst themselves of the swift, merciless justice that is THE ROGER's primary cargo, a devout respect for the Good Ship shall develop. Resentniks shall learn to be humble before my Vessel, for someday they might receive a grant to attempt to deconstruct our Greatness from a feminist viewpoint, or something. Ahoy then! Henceforth, whenever we hoist the Skull and Bones (or when we put on our jollyroger.com t-shirts ), the withered, shrunken timbers which comprise the postmodern soul shall shiver! Recalling the examples we made of intellectually indifferent administrators and tyrannical, monomaniac feminist writers who dared to stand between Me and My Dream, the resentnik will choose to acquiesce peacefully. Outflanked by integrity, they will choose to admit to their heinous, clandestine crimes committed against the Greats in the liberal fog. They shall relent and surrender the helms of the institutions that are entrusted with guarding the Soul of Freedom, rather than provoking a skirmish with our Invincible Ship. They shall know that a battle would prove fatal for their waterlogged frigates and dispirited crew. When our Noble Skull and Bones is hoisted towards the Heavens, it shall be answered promptly with a white flag! Ahoy! They shall have witnessed the Power of the Truth, and they shall Fear it, I say! Liberal University administrators will awaken at night, trembling in a cold sweat, their wives worriedly asking them why they'd been shouting "JOLLY ROGER!" Feminists will find themselves drawing skulls and crossbones in the mirror with shaving cream. For years upon years the resentniks criticized the Greats, twisting the words, eradicating the subtleties, intentionally misinterpreting the meaning, making the profound profane, keeping Twain spinning in his grave, and now, finally, THE ROGER's here to return the favor, and avenge the Great dead (not to be confused with Jerry Garcia, who dropped too much stuff to erect a monument to the human spirit worth deconstructing). Let it be known to all who attempt to stand in the way of Great Literature from this day on-- ye are blocking the course of this indestructible, unstoppable frigate, and we shall either blow you out of the water or ram right through ye insolent scallywags, depending on the Mood this Captain is In. Aye aye! Be it known that those who stand in the Way of my Destiny shall sink in the Wake of my Ship!! No more, I say, indifferent University administrators! You shall be taught to Respect those spirits which inspired the erection of the beautiful stone structures upon your Gutted Gothic Campuses! When I offer to let you employ my poetical talents at your institution, so as to save it from further Disgrace and Barbarism, and rescue it from amoral nihilism, you shall graciously and immediately offer me a tenured position! You shall not do as you have done and tell me that you have not the power to affect who gets hired and stuff, and write to me that I must go ask the same creative-writing resentniks who I informed you had tried to amputate my soul! Smart-ass administrators beware! You shall not reject the greatest possible gift that can be made to an institution of higher learning-- The Rhyming Truth, and then continue to send me your relentless barrage of pamphlets with the requisite multicultural pictures pleading with me to donate money for Princeton's 250th birthday! Princeton's dead I say! 'Tis but a shell of gothic stone without a soul, and you, the immoral, eternally smiling fool, believe you can fill it with mere money! The abomination you have made of the University President's Role! Before this millenium is over, I shall teach ye to be Humble before the Greats! Ye know who ye are, tough-guy-- yeah, that's right jerky. Ye are ubiquitous, as is all airy ideology, sitting in the offices of Geffen records, smiling, and smiling, and smiling at Princeton University as the hat is passed perpetually through your faithless congregation. But you cannot hide from THE ROGER, for she too is ubiquitous. And she sails the abstract, undefined dimension of man's intellect with the advantage of catching the Truth's raging wind in her snow white sails. Yay, I speak of the wind whose gale force howls through the minds and hearts of all men-- even yours, fruitcake. I contend that even the liberal has a conscience, concealed from themselves somewhere 'neath the postmodern fog they inhaled. And let the deep chill you feel in your soul, two-faced administrators and Dealers of Darkness, be the proof of my Truth, for you are tackin' 'gainst her. And that is why the ROGER will Prevail, for the Good Ship Advances with this Prevailing Wind. 'Tis an eternal battle between the rugged individual and the blind, cruel, corrupt machine of mediocrity, and I am proud to have crafted this fine vessel to serve this tiny, yet essential contribution to the never-ending war against Blindness, Ignorance, and Bigotry in Positions of Power. Browse through the books of BeaconRay's Great Books bookstore, and you shall find a common aspect shared by all of the works which makes them the classics they are-- a moral center which embodies the highest expression of man's existence and renders him a being superior to the indifferent universe. All the works, from THE FOUNTAINHEAD, to HAMLET, to the CATCHER IN THE RYE, to MOBY DICK, to CATCH 22, to LORD JIM, to THE GREAT GATSBY, to HUCKLEBERRY FINN-- all pay homage to the rugged, romantic, moral individual who feels the divine need for Order, Enlightenment, Freedom, and The Truth. 'Tis the element that all enduring literature shares! And this too is the hue of the light emitted by the Great Contemporary Literature which is and shall be published by BeaconWay press, while THE GOOD SHIP JOLLY ROGER sails the WWW, picking up souls in the postmodern fog, and relentlessly battling those who attempt to make it thicker. Ahoy then for the jollyroger.com trinity!

Which brings us to the focus of the epic painting, WANDERER ABOVE A SEA OF FOG. The central figure, the lone wanderer, the fiercely independent thinker, the rugged individual, is he whom the jollyroger.com enterprise was founded to serve. Let it be known that we never forget for a second that if it weren't for the countless kindred spirits out there climbin' out of the fog, seeking Enlightenment, we wouldn't be here. You found the Truth aboard the Good Ship only because you possessed the courage to ascend the highest peaks in your spirit-- the solid rock consisting not of feeling alone, but of the passionate Truth. There are those of my generation (many currently wasting their time brown-nosing the resentniks in English-Socialist-Feminist departments) who shall never seek to rise above the postmodern fog, and thus they will never catch a glimpse of THE JOLLY ROGER nor the noble Beacons we have erected. Be it known that we shall render their petty political degrees worthless, in the same manner that those they today brown-nose insidiously attempted to render words worthless and the Truth irrelevant. Thus the resentnik apprentices shall attempt THE GOOD SHIP's eradication, but like now it's too late, 'cause with the press of a button the Truth can now be launched on an unstoppable voyage about the entire world. Aye aye! The WWW has set the Individual's Truth free! I need you not, aging-out-of-touch liberal editors! The only Thing that the liberal ever had on my Truth was that they could ignore it and refuse to publish it. But the cool thing about the immortal Truth is that ignoring it does not Destroy it. All that it destroys is the ignorer's soul. And now that Western Science has fathered the WWW, the postmodern storm troopers possess no means of censoring these words. And nothing is what the nihilist deserves.

Ahoy then Black Dragon, Slacker Slayer, One-Eye, Dark Avenger, and I Own Elliot in Tennis! We know there're many out there who've climbed above the liberal fog, and who are frustrated at the growing gulf between contemporary culture and the far, far deeper context within which their profound soul longs to survive in-- the context within which the Greats created. From here on out the beacons we've erected shall remain burning for you, and THE JOLLY ROGER shall ferry you once a month over to the lighthouses. Our objective is the same as our favorite teachers-- Rush and Shakespeare-- to entertain while informing you of the highest Truths. To breathe Life into Literature. The WWW has allowed us to build a vessel that is capable of transporting you to and from the Great Works without liberal resentnik interference, and we're havin' a blast captainin' this vessel. We, the Red Avengers of All That is Right and True, defenders of the Subtle, fans of the Profound, do here formally dedicate jollyroger.com to you, the reader, and cordially invite you to drop on by http://jollyoger.com and check out the site which has been decked out for the merriest season.

Ahoy then maties! You know what's happening here! This is the brand new drug&slacker&grunge&liberal-boomer free culture! Not only is it the conservative literary revolution, but it is also the WWW literary revolution, for there are no contenders in sight. All that the corporate conglomerate publishers (and those who believe that kissing their butts will bestow them with fortune) can do is put the same old tired neon crap on the WWW. They are limited to nihilism, because it runs counter to the PC religion to print words which signify something. For be it known that words which contain Meaning give rise to thought, and the postmodern-MTV-pot-feel-good fog, necessary for convincing members of my generation to vote for superficial liberals who spend money we have not yet earned, evaporates in such a context.

As the thick fog is Burned away by the jollyroger.com Lighthouses, it shall become apparent to all that the liberals have lost that which was the central aspect of their philosophy thirty years ago-- youthful rebellion. At the moment they're passing through the awkward stage of being fifty-year old adolescents. The liberal ideology is tempting to the young mind, and thus the Irresponsible Boomer uses it as a license to Preserve and Perpetuate their Power Structure with the Taxes and Votes of my Peers. The young are given condoms in school and A's for "feeling" rather than thinking, and they are allowed to attend Greenday concerts where liberals let some guys with guitars "rebel" in a cage on a stage. Today's young are encouraged to engage in acts which our grandparents, many of whom are still married, were never given the opportunity to sully their souls with. Thus the liberal concludes our grandparent's lives were wasted in a moral void of sobriety and responsibility, and the only reason they stayed together was that grandma let grandpa oppress her. Ask your Grandpa and he is sure to tell you that he had all the fun fighting in WW II while Grandma did all the work of raising the children they united to bring in this world. Ahoy! Do you see the connection between divorce and the integration of base temptations into the fabric of our existence? Have you thanked Hollywood University Admini$trator$ or your favorite femini$t today for your enduring, deep, romantic relationship? How many in my generation, though never married, have yet been divorced? For we have shared mutual love only to see it fade in the liberally desecrated cultural context, where a minority of hideous women, who have naught to gain from a romantic view of the world, pound the evils of marriage into the young's heads, while their liberal accomplices in the entertainment industry mock female virtue and pay homage to male vice. And thus President $hapiro of Pricetown, I get the following e-mail from a girl in high-school up in New Jersey.

"Anyway, relationships are difficult. It's really hard to find someone sincere now a days. Every guy I meet seems to want like one thing. It's pretty sad when people seem to want relationships based on only sex. It's like, don't they care about anything else? They are just so shallow, it makes me sick. You know what I mean? I just have known so many people like that, and it's depressing when nothing has any deeper meaning or anything."

Ah President $hapiro at Pricetown! Do these words mean nothing? Have you a condom waiting for her with her name on it? Shall you hand it to her freshman week? Shall you forward the above beautiful sentiment, this Sign of Human Life, to your gulag of femini$t re$entnik$ to decon$truct so as to clear your con$cience? Shall you invite the young lass to join you in partaking in the Terrace Club bong? Is that the high school you remember? Nay, I say! You weren't forced to spend your childhood watching unmarried adults have sex on the boob tube! The Adults of yesteryear had Mercy on the Young Soul! They harbored Re$pect for Children, and would often consider raising them a more Noble occupation than $uing people. Yesterday's Moral Context, which you and your klan have pillaged, plundered, robbed, buried, and destroyed, provided children with a Serene environment in which they didn't have to hear about lesbian love triangles so that Liberal adult$ could sell their products. Back when you were a child Adults were Responsible. Back then Resentniks had only begun wreaking vengeance upon man's most noble spiritual accomplishments, and Hollywood had just instigated it's campaign of Temptation, furthering the assault on the Higher Ideals on the popular culture front. Did you see the movie KID$, $hapiro? The shocking thing was not the KID$' behavior, but the behavior of the adult$ who filmed it. Aye Aye, $hapiro-- the world has never been a Perfect Place, but at least there have been moments in History where Ideals, such as a two-parent family, were allowed to exist unassaulted by Masters of Temptation like Pricetown Honorary degree recipient Martin Scorcese, and the brutal theories of famous welfare-liberate-women-from-men feminists like Elaine Showlwater, and kill-kill-kill-all-men-and-Romance feminazis like Joyce Carol Oates. Yet you, the Pre$ident of Princeton University, the Man who is Paid to Lead the Intellectual and Spiritual Free World, behave contemptuously towards the highest Truths by which Morality is Born. Contempuous I say because he who Accepts the Money of the University President's Position, but not the Responsibility, possesses a Character which is contemptous of What is Right.

Here I Exist, proving that the Artist can make a career of appealing to the more Noble Elements of the human spirit, even though they will be impugned and expelled by institutions of higher learning for doing so. I am by far the rarer Artist today, as the contemporary Artist of the Higher Intellect must possess a fortitude and resilience to overcome the macabre, ruthless assaults of the thousands of cultural bounty hunters who liberal administrators employ for the sake of My Destruction. I destroy the Fog and Darkness that are necessary to the modern liberal's clandestine subterfuges, and thus the liberal ideology seeks to destroy me in the same way it has deleted the Great Texts and the Book from modern culture. But where are the talent scouts seeking the writers of Great Literature? The Universities have legislated against them! They direct them to the smokey rooms and dark clubs to hire youths such as Alanis Morrissette who sings about performing perverted acts in theaters, and Liz Phair, who does things backwards while watching TV, poses provocatively on the cover of ROLLING STONE, and then demands that we respect her song-writing ability, not the obligatory waif image the liberals would have never let her make it without. Where is the BARNACLE OF HIGHER EDUCATION? Why are they not serving the Free World and reporting upon the moral found aboard the GOOD SHIP? Why are they not Ecstatic that I am serving the People of this Nation by reviving the Greats, as evidenced by their letters?

http://jollyroger.com/beaconway/response.html

Ahoy! Thus the JOLLY ROGER is destined to become but one more record of Reality which serves as a testament to the hideous ignorance and blinding arrogance of an aging Ideology! Aye Aye! Know ye that the moral soul of this generation has been abandoned by the powers that Be! For by eroding it the liberals might drug enough of us up on substances and good intentions, and seduce us to favor them spending the money we have never earned. You know? I can see why a lot of slackers vote liberal-- they have that, "I'm on drugs, I've got no future, so we might as well all go to hell in a hand basket," mentality.

But before this millenium is out, the numbers of Conservative Artists shall Multiply I say, for THE ROGER shall provide a safe haven for development of the Conservative Intellect, free from vindictive liberal assaults. From within these indestructible, impenetrable hulls, we shall safely study the liberal enemy, and blow 'em out of the water now and then, to keep 'em in line. I'm going to make reading cool, even if it pisses the editorial elite at the BARNACLE OF HIGHER EDUCATION off. Ahoy then $hapiro! Liberals strip kids down for ads, sell us pornagraphic nihilism to erode our souls so we don't notice that feminist professors are destroying the peaks of culture, thus eradicating the Way by which one might climb up out of the postmodern fog. And the feminists destroy the peaks of higher culture, making it ever more difficult to climb out of the postmodern fog, so as to ensure that we remain numb to the fact that we have no alternative to the alternative, nihilistic crap which the corporate liberals erode our souls with. And the corporate liberals erode our souls with their substance-inspired fog so that we won't notice that the resentnik feminists are eradicating the peaks of our intellectual heritage. Ahoy! This generation is assaulted on all sides I say! Thus this generation enters into Holy Matrimony being told, Heads it shall prevail, and Tails it won't. Be it Known An Element of us Shall Rise to make Rush Limbaugh look like Santa Clause. And then the punchline is that you, $hapiro, want to spend more of the money we haven't earned yet on lesbian performance art. At last year's commencement speech you told us it was our responsibility to fund education. You ruthless, conscienceless beggar! Like I still owe like $10,000 in loans on your beach house, dude. I got taken by the liberals once, but never again. Never again. Never again. Not until the fund-raising pamphlets you send to me are edited to include the following notice: "Literature in the pre-postmodern sense and the unadulturated Great Works of the Western Canon have temporarily been expelled from the Pricetown Premises to make way for the Politics of Resntniks. We apologize for any inconvenience, and hope that this overall improvement of Pricetown in no way di$$uades you from applying. For we feel the grade inflation we have instituted in the humanities more than makes up for the expulsion of the Truth embodied in words that mean things. The marketability of your degree should thus be enhanced, and you shall emerge from Princeton with all the requisite skills necessary for Serving the Nation by running liberal bureaucracies, figuring out new, creative ways to spend the money of the uninformed, stupid American Citizen. $incerely Yours, Harold T. $hapiro." You know?

Why does the liberal hate the spiritually strong who Dream of a Romantic, Enduring love? In the most recent Pricetown Alumni Weekly, you, Pre$ident $hapiro, patted yourself on the back for the high rankings of many of Pricetown's departments in a magazine edited by people who'd rather rank things than think about them. One category that the surveys always leave out is the likelihood that somebody will hear your girlfriend in the middle of the night. They might hear her pukin' her guts out after a rough night up on Prospect street, or perhaps while she's tryin' to keep up with the $uperficial Hollywood $tandards whose creators you throw honorary degrees at. Or they might hear her doin' other things. Ah! The stories I could grace your ears with $hapiro, had I been raised a Liberal! Pricetown would rank ahead of Chapel Hill in the "likelihood of people hearing your girlfriend at night" category, as well as the academic ones. Although there are more females on UNC's beautiful campus, there are no coed dorms, and thus it is somewhat more rare to hear a girl pukin', or engaged in other Natural, Encouraged at All Times, In All Ways Possible, activities. "You can't get enough," is the liberal mantra, "unless you start in fifth grade." At this Southern Institution (which also possesses enough of a liberal element to refuse to recognize THE JOLLY ROGER) there are these things called fraternities and sororities, one with men and one with women. And sometimes they have these things called mixers. You'd be surprised how they've figured it out down here. I mean it's pretty easy to get some around here too, if you're that way, but I enjoy these remnants from a forgotten past, like fraternities and sororities. I mean it sort of acknowledges what I have found out over the years-- that girls and guys are different. Get this $hapiro-- one reason I went to Pricetown was because I'd read F. Scott Fitzgerald's this side of Paradise, where like kissing a pretty girl was a big deal! Whoa! You know? I thought that was cool-- I mean like there were these girls who possessed these virtues, or at least were supposed to, and the guys didn't rape 'em or treat like sluts, the way Snoop Doggy Dogg (the Authority on these Matters your friends at Time Warner sell Us), does. It's funny-- being like middle class and things, my parents thought there'd be like a lot of snobbery from all the rich kids you let in, but it wasn't that way. Like money's cool and all, but it's nothin' to feel inferior to, for just like Princeton Diplomas, it too burns. The dangerous Element I encountered was the relatively New Beasts of the Empowered Feminist and Multiculturalist. Ahoy I say! They are digging their graves! Let them abuse their Power and vent their Hate upon a few more righteous, honest, morally sound members of my generation, and their Fates shall be sealed! It shall happen I say, for by logic and reason I see as Shakespeare did see, down the dark road of Tragedy. Up at Pricetown all the eating clubs are coed, insuring that one can see naked chicks during initiations, if one's perverted enough to go to those things. But the thing is, $hapiro, I don't think the Fleeting Festivity of the Nude Olympics, where men and women get wasted and undress and go smash windows on Nassau Street, comes close to comparing with the Eternal Romantic love which once had a chance of survival. Aye aye then members of this generation! Are ye such soulless pagans as to agree with feminist scholars that the two parent family is a patriarchal evil? What is the use, ye pernicious beasts, of teaching us all the multicultural crap when there exists not the age-old institution where one can learn to trust one's own Mother and Father? Aye aye! The Gender Wars are waged by the Gender Generals, so that scorned women might have a political ladder for their fury to climb!

As one becomes older the raw passions wane, and cherished wisdom takes the place of youth in the natural order of things. Our parents (for those of us who know them) become smarter. At this point the liberal artist turns to drugs. Truth=Death for the liberal, and thus we fly the skull and bones on the Good Ship! Sober thought does not exist harmoniously with the Dionysian Temptation David Geffen subsists upon, and I watch on as the Liberal Fog Machine tries 'em out, signs 'em up, puts my Peers on the cover of ROLLING STONE, chews 'em up, and spits 'em out. Ahoy I say! Let the scripted deaths of Kurt Cobain and Shannon Hoon, along with the plethora of their drug addicted peers, serve as a warning beacon to ye! Let it signal unto all the darkness entailed in picking up a guitar, learning three chords, and selling your soul to the liberals, in exchange for approval by Geffen's Industry! Woe to ye who inspire down this well-worn path! Woe to ye Ultimate Conformers who succumb to the superficial liberal offers of fame and fortune, find a drummer and a base player to back you up, sing some PC pornagraphic songs, and embark upon destroying your soul! The Insincerity fails to Entertain! Ahoy fifteen-year-olds, sixteen-year-olds, and seventeen-year-olds! Dost ye know what it means to sell your soul! ROLLING STONE won't warn ye! For they need yer blood for their Porsches! Signing upon their ship is so consumnately devastating that Shannon and Kurt succumbed to the murderous role the liberals had written for them, rather than play the role of fathers to their newborn baby daughters that God had offered them! Aye aye! They had sold their Spirit, and forgone the right to write their fate! Geffen lives on, his fangs ever-bared, leachin' off the youth of My Generation! Know ye this me maties! Know ye that the Liberal Vampires created Kurt Cobain as the central Lord in the Columbia House Church, plundered his soul, and rendered the weak, troubled soul's Life not Worth Living.

The liberal pedant/executive/editor and their younger fog-inhaling disciples/nihilism-consumers on alt.society.generation-x hate me because I am Free. While I possess an unalterable reverence towards my Mind, the Truth and the Greats, I display a confident irreverence towards their vapid nihilism. While I am insolent towards them, I am humble before you, The Sober Thinker, at you're service. Authentic heart-felt, Profound Rebellion freaks 'em out. The irony of all ironies-- that those who consider themselves Deep possessors of Independent Minds should flock to MTV-Shopping-Mall-Marketed Rebellion and flee from THE JOLLY ROGER! Almost as fast as the editors at the BARNACLE OF HIGHER EDUCATION! Ahoy me maties! 'Tis a good thing! The Skull and Bones we fly keeps the worser elements off THE ROGER, preventing them from soiling our immaculate deck! 'Tis a good thing I say, and it strengthens the moral fiber of the Good Ship! By striking Fear into the hearts of the young-stoner-morally-vapid-matching-thriftstore-clothes-feminist -in-training losers and the miserable-resentnik-failed-writer-editorial-wacko-elite, I am ensuring that the liberals shall never mar my unblemished credibility by attempting to market me.

Ahoy! Fly the skull 'n bones with pride, me fellow maties, for the future of culture belongs to the honest, and those eternally young at heart who tenaciously refuse to become jaded. Those who possess the insurmountable fortitude to resist the thousand superficial temptations that the liberals hook children on so as to drag them down into the cynical romance-free postmodern morass and cause them to give up the relentless pursuit of what is Right. I know the majority of Pirates aboard this sterling frigate will never let the thousand one-night stand culture advertised on MTV and encouraged by bisexual instructors replace the Immutable knowledge they were Born with that Commands we are meant to walk the Earth in Pairs. Aye aye! I repeat to emphasize! Ye Pirates of the Western Soul caught sight of this ship and signed aboard because ye had already scaled a peak within yourself, following the Ideal that resides above the postmodern fog of a dark, Truthless world, that glows like a Beacon in your Soul. Aye, aye, I did not create this Beacon! He who created All created it! I but remind you of it, and assure you that it is there. And I erect my humble words which can be glimpsed from the noble peak! I say unto you that if you have the courage to follow what you dreamed of, I shall have the courage to Captain a Literary Revolution! Ahoy then! We're making history, providing an alternative to alternative in these darkened ages, proving this Spiritually Assaulted generation capable of a culture rooted in the sober spirit and the higher rationale. Hey-- and like never forget that all you liberals reading this (the ones taking notes with shaking hands) had ample chances to publish me-- heck, I even had a hot-shot Hollywood agent buying me meals for a year, trying to get me to dumb THE DRAKE RAFT FIELD TRIP down and abolish it into a screenplay. Nay I say! I did not and I shall not dumb my work down! I shall smarten the people up as to the nature of your hideous, covert crimes committed 'neath the cover of the postmodern fog! Like you guys totally messed up, as you possessed not the Ability in the Abstract which allows one to recognize words capable of exalting the peoples' spirits. Ahoy! All comes into sharp focus now, as I see Reality for the Unique thing that It Is. If you possessed Ability in the Abstract, if you possessed a love of the Greats, then you would not be in New York in the middle of a literary night. You'd be runnin' the other way for your dear life. Know this-- that bureaucracy breeds mediocrity, and mediocrity returns the favor. Thus the dismal state of contemporary socialist-tinged literature.

Arrhhhghghghghghgh! Gazing into the postmodern black hole is enough to shiver the timbers of this Pirate! Aye, Aye! But I only look long enough to note the size and shape, the character and timbre of the enemy's insidious essence! For this Good Ship sails to Defeat the Resentnik, to Disloge the Amoral Liberal Tax and Tuition Leach, and Ultimately to fill the gaping hole in my Peer's souls so that a Higher Culture has a Foundation upon which to be Constructed. Aye Aye me maties, and as it is Christmas, I turn now from the deep dark depths of this cultural winter, and towards all that is Evergreen within man's heart! Ahoy! I heard it was snowing in Nantucket today, with nature's blanket of white covering the soiled, barren fields. While here in North Carolina it was yet fifty degrees at dusk when Drake and I finished our run through the Duke Forest, whence we were greeted by the morning star Venus in the Eastern horizon. But ye know how a November breezy balmy evening is transformed into a frigid gale overnight, for such is the way Winter enters this land! Aye Aye Drake, so ye shall follow the Goddess of Beauty Eastward towards the salty element permanent as the Truth-- the ocean, where no stone monument stands to man! And there ye shall catch November's last gale, which enters as Autumn, and exits as Winter. Aye aye MTV idolaters, pagans, and worshippers of hardware! Take this to heart WIRED! For upon the literary frontier, all that survives are the airy ideas of the infinite, immutable, truths! By the printed word alone do we draw close to man's moral essence, maties, but we do not apprehend her, and the ungraspable phantom of our consciousness remains free! And that is why the Deepest Thinker seeks to ultimately entertain by the device which we ponder all-- the printed word, for he has seen that the ultimate knowledge, God's knowledge, lies beyond our mortal grasp. >From henceforth the above paragraphs were but a history lesson, for the present alone owns the future! Let these first few months of THE JOLLY ROGER serve as an immortal monument to the liberals' contemporary attempt to drag down Heaven as they aspire towards Hell! We have understood the Enemy, and now let us sail free of their Swirling Vortex, before we Become the Void by gazing into it for too Long. Know ye this! Some die to create, others live to destroy, the latter liberal institutions do employ.

Aye aye then! Merry Christmas Degama's Ghost, Killer-Shark, Gumby The One-Eyed Pirate, and Captain Redbeard at Stanford! Tomorrow, December 1st, 1995, Drake shall submerge himself for a moment off the Coast of Hatteras, swim out with his Mistral Equipe beyond the breaking surf, and raise the corner of the sail up out of the water, allowing the wind to rush underneath. As suddenly and definitively as the Truth strikes the Spirit, the wind shall snap the sail tight, raising Drake and his crossed mast and boom up out of the salty sea towards the Carolina blue. And he shall be Nantucket Bound, I say! Looking to land on the Island off Massachusetts sometime during the Halcyon days! Ahoy! It is said the Lord works in mysterious ways, and thus just as Christmas occurs in the depths of winter, the WWW came into being at the same moment that I realized the degree to which the postmodernist fog had utterly inundated the institutions that are in charge of nourishing the Soul-- the Universities and the Presses. Amen and ahoy! For the Good Ship sails free of their folly! They don't edit me, they don't review me, they don't like me, they don't believe me, they won't admit to me, they've kicked me out of class, they've kicked me off their literary lists, they're trying to kick me off of misc.writing, they don't want me, and thus they don't exist. Ahoy then! In the Book growing dusty upon the shelf, it is said,

Have you never read in the scriptures:
"The stone the builders rejected
has become the capstone;
the Lord has done this,
and it is marvelous in our eyes."

Aye Aye! Dost ye know who stated this? 'Tis the same Soul who said, "Honor your mother and father!" And too He said, "Do not give dogs what is sacred; do not throw your Pearls to the pigs. If you do, they may trample them under their feet, and then turn and tear you to pieces." Dost ye know the name of the Prophet who stated such? These are the words of none other than the Noble Spirit whose birth we celebrate by Christmas. Avast! The miserable, vindictive postmodernist who states that words are meaningless thus states that Christmas is meaningless! For the Essence of Christmas is immortal by the Printed Words that His Soul is Preserved within. Who steps forth to destroy Christmas, I say! Who steps forth to destroy the Bible? Who steps forth to destroy God? Cowards all! I shine this Light on ye, evaporating the postmodern fog so the people may witness you engaged in your barbarous acts, and ye flee! Run fast, run far, but know ye there is no velocity greater than that of this Light! Aye-aye! I found these words in Tammy's bible, which I picked up in her dorm room one night, a couple years back! She's this x-girlfriend with whom I shared yet one more classic condemned boomer-slacker-liberal-cultural-void relationship with. Aye aye, I say! We tried, but the context which once fostered the growth of relationships beyond infatuation had faded, I say! I have heard that once upon a time people were taught to love with their Minds and their Souls as well as with their Hearts and Bodies, and that when the fleeting, ephemeral-by-nature, raw passions waned in a relationship, yesteryear's immortal Spirit, formed at the intersection between the rational mind and the soul, buttressed the tacit pact of love between the two Humans, and buoyed the relationship through the stormier weather inherent in all Human Endeavors. A societal context existed which respected the Honest, which honored the Chaste, which exalted the Loyal. Ahoy! Though the moral conscience of my generation is assaulted on all fronts, I contend that the Romantic core yet exists, and I quote profound words of my New Jersey high-school pal,

"Anyway, I can relate to the brick wall thing with relationships. I'm just so scared because I don't want to be crushed to pieces and start all over again. It's sucks so bad. But still there's part of me that craves a relationship. Someone to look at the stars with on a gorgeous clear, cool night. Know what I mean? It's just so cool."

Once upon a time, when words meant things, Liars were Liars, Cheaters were Cheaters, and Thieves were Thieves, and not Presidents and Lawyers and Executives! Ahoy! The liberal's knee jerks here and She ejaculates that there was never such a perfect time! I admit that there is a grain of Truth to this, but where I part ways with the Pernicious, Soulless Liberal is where they say there Can Never Be and there Should Never Be Such a Perfect Time, using the conscience-clearing, feel-good cynicism as a license to promote profanity, nihilism, and mediocrity via Characterless Political Maneuvers. Ahoy Tammy! You once told me that if you ever love anyone at all, you love them forever! Aye aye then wherever you are! Have they worn down yer faith? Hath the postmodern fog made ye groggy? For today, the way society is set up makes it easy for Us, the Unguided, Unparented youth, brought up on Madonna Values in the Columbia House Church, to hurt one-another. You count your failed relationship's maties, and you will find them to be the same in number as your brethern's failed relationships, for no man is an island I say! And the hideous gender Generals reap the benefits of the Gender war, at the expense of the Children, and the Children yet to be. And so I walk the streets of Chapel Hill, 'neath the Christmas Wreathes which seem out of place to a Northerner on this balmy November evening, and I count my x-girlfriends and their x-boyfriends, and I walk on by the Cat's Cradle, past the neon band posters, with pictures of my Peers in carefully planned random poses, with their long hair and goatees, wearin' matchin' thriftstore clothes, pursuing the artificially implanted dream of an era which is receding just as fast in the opposite direction, into the past. Aye aye! A gust of wind rips the last of the golden leaves off a Maple tree so as to wear them as jewelry. And I witness the phantom whirl on down Franklin Street a ways, on by Groundhog's, by Last Call, on by Four Corner's, on by all the youth who were taught to drink their way to Love, to where she drops the leaves upon an augmenting carpet of spent autumn jewelry, for what are these golden trinkets to the immortal, airy spirit? They but weigh her down, I say! For it is the spirit that bestows the meaning, and thus the value upon the gold-- never the other way around. And so it is that the printed word is man's greatest treasure.

Aye aye! You can see that the sixties wind once blew through this town! For it has left eddies swirling in its wake-- resentniks in academia, and children seeking the destruction of their Souls! Know ye that ye shall ride the dust devils nowhere me friends with three chords and distortion! Geffen will pick ye up but to sacrifice you upon the MTV Altar, and this Generation shall fail to be Moved by ye who possess souls too small to see the Three Tall Masts of THE GOOD SHIP.

Hark now-- a far, far vaster wind is rising, on the eve of Drake's departure! 'Tis the birth of something greater, me maties, and the wind has only begun to rise! Nay, and I count all my acquaintances, and friends, and the people I meet, and the people I don't know, for they too are the same as You and Me, part of a generation who has once again inherited a world it did not create. The abandoned generation I say! Abandoned spiritually and intellectually to fend on our own while the power-mongering liberals played their political games. Abandoned in entirety by the liberal bureaucrats, but for our money and the money we have not yet earned! There was a beauty in Rock'n'Roll, a free spirit and intoxicating escape, but too there comes a time for a man to plant his feet, stand his moral ground, and face sober Reality! For acid will not solve the spiritual plight we face, nor marijuana, nor the indifference of University Administrators, and their superficial, devastating contentment with mere money. Your rational spirit is the virgin frontier, me maties, and thus this frigate is fabricated from the ultimate computer-user interface-- the Truth-inspired printed word. Ahoy me maties! Is it any wonder Melville was inspired to write,

"Ah, noble ship, the angel seemed to say, beat on, beat on, thou noble ship, and bear a hardy helm; for lo! the sun is breaking through; the clouds are rolling off --serenest azure is at hand. Nor was the pulpit itself without a trace of the same sea-taste that had achieved the ladder and the picture. Its panelled front was in the likeness of a ship's bluff bows, and the Holy Bible rested on the projecting piece of scroll work, fashioned after a ship's fiddle-headed beak. What could be more full of meaning? --for the pulpit is ever this earth's foremost part; all the rest comes in its rear; the pulpit leads the world. From thence it is the storm of God's quick wrath is first descried, and the bow must bear the earliest brunt. From thence it is the God of breezes fair or foul is first invoked for favorable winds. Yes, the world's a ship on its passage out, and not a voyage complete; and the pulpit is its prow."-- MOBY DICK

Ahoy! The prow of the world is where we print these words! Great Literature is the next logical step after Beavis and Butthead! And as the solemn Evergreen stands vigilant above the white which blankets all, so too shall BeaconWay's Literature shine above the postmodern fog. The Christmas tree symbolizes the eternal renewal of life, the everlasting Faith in the human spirit that Spring shall follow Winter as sure as night follows day, and in parallel with this, our literature represents the eternal renewal of Truth. Thus it is fitting that this year's jollyroger.com evergreen should be THE DRAKE RAFT FIELD TRIP, and the AFTER DARK FIELD BOOK SONNETS. You shall find the Season's Gifts in the second section of this issue. And THE GOOD SHIP JOLLY ROGER sails eternally forward me maties! For Great Literature is sure to result from Drake's voyage up to Nantucket, on past the Metropolises overrun by a senile King named liberalism, towards the Island where Ahab long ago embarked on his pursuit of the White Whale! Ahoy Ahab! 'Tis Christmas, and thus we sail on home, to where ye last departed one November long ago, and have not been seen since! Ahoy! We wish you all safe voyages for the holidays! Next year we anticipate the completion of the novel FROM THE CRADLE TO NANTUCKET. Merry Christmas to ye, ye kindred spirits, noble intellects, and tomorrow's leaders of a Higher Culture! 'Tis the season to share the gift found within your soul with others-- to entertain while exalting and educating! 'Tis the greatest gift one can give! And so Drake voyages forth to spread the Christmas spirit amongst all-- amongst the cynics and the pagans, the spiritually bankrupt and the emotionally decrepid, the Deep and Honest who have lost their way in the postmodern context. Have faith me maties! Find it in these words, and the words of the Greats! Let not the wind-driven snow which sometimes opposes ye fiercely discourage thee! Nay! Rig your sails to the far vaster wind which blow's through your soul-- that of the Truth! And fear not the external elements, for ye can learn to tack 'gainst them, and run with your will's wind! Go forth me merry maties, and let this generation know that the Evergreen innocence yet exists somewhere deep within their souls.

Ye who have traveled on this Good Ship, ye who now witness the star shining above the fog, are here returned to your home port now. So gently shake the rest, and wake them with a resounding whisper of the Truth, so that they too might see the Spirit of Christmas Morning! Yo ho ho, said the Merry Pirate Santa Clause, Merry Christmas! Ahoy, and so say we! A Merry Christmas, a Happy Hannukkah, and Happy New Year to one and all!

The Jolly Crew--
Elliot "Ahab" McGucken
Drake "Red Avenger" Raft
Becket "Bluebeard" Knottingham

Date: Sat, 18 Nov 1995 19:32:41 -0500
From:Slack14@----
To: mcgucken@physics.unc.edu
Subject: something I needed to express

I feel it is more than a coincidence that I discovered this site recently. For most of my life, I have been homeschooled. The great books were my "textbooks" up until high school. I "attended" high school for three years.

Actually I languished in the suffocating nihilism that chokes the life out of nearly all modern high schools. I suffered through the nasty, shallow textbooks that package frivolous, inconsequential details into tiresome language. Those that did give a larger picture of events and thoughts are often hopelessly crammed with watery, weak versions of the rich and powerful ideas of history. When studying, say, the Reformation, why did we not read at least some of the ninety-five theses Luther posted on the door of the cathedral? Instead students must remember to fill in "ninety-five theses" in answer to the question "This document started the Reformation" on test 32a. It is as if the modern educational system was created to play Jeopardy. Answer in the form of a question, please.

Beyond the actual methods of teaching lie the philosophies that created the specter of the educational system. This is where the real problem is. I felt deeply for the suffering souls of my peers. There was an overpowering sense of hopelessness and depression buried deep beneath the typical lunchroom superficiality. There is a bitter and complete sense of disillusionment that is not of their making but nevertheless hangs over the them like a black cloud. The things that should stimulate and excite the minds of today's youth have been taken away from them. It is not only the fact that the Great Books are not presented as such and deconstructed, but that the average high schooler has been desensitized to literature. They have been blinded by the trash thrown at them and even though most know it is trash it is hard to see clearly in the light when you have been in the dark for so long. I knew all this deep down. I saw clearly the problems that affected us all.

Yet I was condemned to inaction. I was rather immature myself. All I could do was watch. I could (and should) have done much more to help that school and my friends, yet I didn't. By my Junior year I was becoming what I despised. The slough of despond almost claimed me, but I did have deep foundations in the lasting things of life, and parents that cared. I was saved. I pulled myself out of the school and homeschooled my senior year.

It may sound to the uniformed like I was some kind of dork who didn't "fit in" and couldn't take reality, or whatever. Thats a lot of crap. I was on the Varsity Football team, class president, and involved in a couple other things that mean too much to too many people.

No true human being "fits in" to the mold that the sham intelligentsia and media moguls create. No human being can be joyful when truth (which ultimately means life) is devalued. Throughout the last four years, I have often wondered why those who seek and stand by the Truth never seem to take an offensive stand against those who seek to destroy it. Sure, there are those who fight politically against the politics of meaninglessness. (Sorry, Hillary)

This is needed and it seems presently a good start is taking place. "PC" has become a term of derision to many Americans. But this is not a battle of laws and school boards and regulations. Ultimately, it is a battle of hearts and minds and souls. And it will be won not be holding ground, but by taking it. Many complain about the tripe that passes for literature/music/visual arts today, but HOW MANY HAVE THE GUTS TO NOT ONLY COMPLAIN, BUT CREATE? How many seek to create organizations and groups that seek to create TRUE art and expression of our nature? Not many.

The Jolly Roger seems to be a place where it is possible to fight back against the dying of the light. (Yes Hollywood, I read that line before you used it in a movie) To me it is a starting point-a place for a generation that has been bought and sold like slaves to fight back. Not by attacking, but creating. And 24 soldiers, heh, heh-thats all we need to keep Truth alive in our time. I can't believe the Jolly Roger exists! This is, like, cooler than that new Friends show, and stuff. When I found this place - I couldn't sleep for a long while that night. I praise everyone on here Greatly! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am struck with AWE. An AWESOME place, and I'm one seventeen year old you can count on to tell everyone he knows and provide as much support as he can about and for this place.

A deep thanks from my soul -"PATCH"

Date: Wed, 15 Nov 1995 16:41:11 -0500 (EST)
From: David S. Roberts
Subject: Signing aboard Ahoy there!

Ayes mates, it's been long years that I, a 38 year-old post baby boomer, pre-X sailor have sailed upon once vast seas of thought recently much polluted and drained by those scurvy scoundrels who would spoon-feed intellectual cotton candy into the minds of our nation. I have oft gone alone to lay waste to the bastions of liberal fuzziness and have been rebuffed in my quest by the sheer mass of the sticky spun-sugar of lies moistened by the false tears of compassion of those within the gates of academia. It was a lonely quest, yet a fine one. Those such as I, who have labored amidst the background of ridicule in the days when political correctness was a term of derision to only a small faithful band, may perhaps lay claim to have laid the foundation so that ones such as you, our progeny, could build a magnificent vessel like the Jolly Roger. I salute your effort and it is with great pleasure I accept the honor of serving aboard that fine ship. Let's give opportunity for the liberal-feminist-currently-in-recovery-deconstructionist- multicultural-mushbrains to learn what the words "victim" and "rage" really mean. Man the yardarms! Set the sails! It's payback time. The only problem with the dead white men is that we haven't studied them enough!

--Death to fuzzy thinking

Date: Thu, 16 Nov 1995 01:49:44 -0500
From: Stewart
To: mcgucken@physics.unc.edu
Subject: Bonanza http://www.bigeye.com

Hi Elliott, We are keeping your Feature Link on The BIG EYE and you will be delighted to hear that Newsweek magazine has featured The BIG EYE in the Nov 20th issue as the WWW Search Tool on their Cyberscope pages (p.16). This should introduce a great many persons to The Jolly Roger and I'm delighted to be able to do this. You may use this information in any fashion you feel may be of benefit.

Best wishes, Stewart