Science > Abortion > WE SALUTE RONALD REAGAN: THE AMERICAN PHILOSOPHER, THINKER, AND MAN
| Topic: |
Science > Abortion |
| User: |
"Ranger West" |
| Date: |
10 Jun 2004 05:06:28 AM |
| Object: |
WE SALUTE RONALD REAGAN: THE AMERICAN PHILOSOPHER, THINKER, AND MAN |
JOLLYROGER.COM: NAVIGATING AN AMERICAN RENAISSANCE
Introduction
By Drake Raft, Becket Knottingham, and Dr. Elliot McGucken
(JOLLYROGER.COM MARINE CORPS PENPALS AT http://JOLLYROGER.COM/PENPALS )
He saw the townlands
And learned the minds of many distant men
And weathered many bitter nights and days
In his deep heart at sea, while he fought only
To save his life, to bring his shipmates home.
--Book I, The Odyssey
Ahoy there mates! Contained herein are the captain's logs of The Jolly
Roger, flagship of Classicals & jollyroger.com LLC. The words were set
down during a five year voyage of fantastic romance, peril, and
adventure, as the Good Ship sailed the WWW on towards an American
Renaissance. Beyond the fogs of cynicism we've navigated, and at the
breaking edge of postmodern liberalism, we've sighted the dawning of a
classical revival that shall be known by the rising generation, as
well as by all who count themselves members of the community of
eternal souls.
It's good to be back on shore for the moment, as we always shall be
whenever a fellow seafarer reads this introduction. Perhaps ye'll meet
us out tonight at The Jolly Roger Piano & Poetry Pub or our Great
Books Brewery, before we arise at the crack of dawn to ferry ye on out
towards the greatest treasure of this silicon revolution--the eternity
in a grain of sand. We have seen the future away out there, in yer
hearts and spirits, and it belongs to the honest, while the poetry
belongs to the profound.
In 1995 Jollyroger.com set sail from Hatteras as a labor of love, and
now, by the Grace of God and the loyalty of all our intrepid readers,
the Good Ship has evolved into a profitable venture that allows us to
do that which we were born to do--write. Unlike most dot-com startups
originating from MBA homework assignments, jollyroger.com was not
launched to line the pockets of venture capitalists, but rather she
set sail to serve the eternal popular culture with a renaissance--an
entity which the bankers could not afford to invest in, as enduring
literature must be funded by the courage of poetic passion. Very few
MBAs ever comprehend the business of eternity--the subtleties of how a
world may be born from a grain of sand--and thus it is left up to CEO
Statesmen and Poets to captain literary ships. Business ventures tend
to be considered in terms of monetary risks and rewards, whereas words
of eternity must be written, come hell or high water. It was not mere
information that the Good Ship sought to deliver over the internet,
but poetry, and so instead heading West to Silicon Valley and raising
VC, we raised The Jolly Roger to strike fear into the hearts of
Truth's opponents, and we sailed forth from Hatteras one pristine
September day, beneath a Carolina-blue sky. And we never looked back.
In an era where cool has been commodified and postmodernism has
triumphed in the literary, cultural, and financial arenas, where
inherent worth is oft dismissed and new-age hype rules the day,
jollyroger.com has stuck by the guns of fundamental principle. She has
sailed steadily along her foreordained course, signing aboard loyal
crew members one by one, firing broadsides from the Western Canon to
defend the embattled Great Books, and laying the foundations of the
world's classical portal with the most valuable kind of seed
capital--heartfelt poetry.
In the postmodern culture's pervasive gray, it's often difficult to
perceive the Permanent Things; and thus on the foggier nights over the
past five years, faith in the ancient's words came in handy upon this
deck. In the deepest darkness of the most ironic ironies, where the
fog itself is concealed, there yet exists an inner light in the form
of a classical yearning for Truths greater than ourselves--many know
her as Faith. And like the wind and waves of an approaching hurricane,
the Bible, Plato, Shakespeare, the Founding Fathers, and Melville
reminded us of her--the Words of the Greats let us know that something
all-powerful and great existed just beyond our mortal sight. And by
Faith's inner light and the steady winds of immortal words, we were
able to navigate beyond the postmodern fog, through the popular
culture's sound and fury, on towards the center of our souls--the
placid eye of existence's storm--on towards the eternal peace of
immutable words written and read in the solitude and splendor of
Truth's Freedom. Thus we know firsthand that the greatest literature
serves a higher purpose than the bottom line or the advancement of
political causes--words exist not only to entertain, advertise,
exhort, and explain, but also to light Faith's beacons and fill the
sails of God's Grace. From Words we have fashioned the Jolly Roger's
Oak planks of reason, riveted them with rhyme, and designed a ship to
voyage across all of time.
All generations are united by the classical elements, and the poets
and prophets of each age are those who perform the timeless truths in
the living language, adding to and enriching the context of the
eternal popular culture heralded by the Great Books. Joining in this
venture has always been a risky endeavor, and thus few prudent parents
have ever encouraged their children to become poets. But in this era
especially, ambitious proponents of the postmodern ideology actively
seek to scuttle the souls of young poets embarking on eternity's
favorite venture. The postmodern blockade serves to protect the
degraded trade of the liberal industrial cultural complex, while their
fog shrouds the beacons of timeless truth, thereby rendering the
context for contemporary classical literature all but impossible to
navigate, while endangering the very hulls of morality and Western
Civilization.
Postmodernism is the corruption of democracy, just as deconstruction
is the violence of the weak--both cultural movements owe their
popularity to their ability to empower anyone harboring intellectual
or artistic ambitions overshadowing their talents. Postmodern culture
is like an internet pyramid scheme, wherein cultural creations
possessing no inherent worth are given vast valuations by the insider
critics and cliques who subsist upon and profit from the ephemeral
hype, which is often tax, tuition, and smut subsidized. But eventually
all true art, like all true companies, must create real and lasting
benefits for the public, or fade away, like communism. "One cannot
pray a lie," noted Huckleberry Finn, but without faith in God's
Invisible Hand, postmodernists believe that it's possible, as long as
the requisite mob is assembled and promised a cut. And while the
insiders benefit in the short-term when worthless companies,
fallacious systems of government, and meaningless art are hyped and
sold to a duped public, the public is oft left holding the bag, with
their investments diminished, their classical religions tarnished,
their armies demoralized, the sacred institution of marriage defiled,
and the curriculums of their children's schools gutted.
When the higher ideals and fundamental precepts are forsaken, the
entire democratic ship of state may drift along happily through the
fog, navigating by polls reminiscent of the one given by Pontius
Pilate, not aware of the nature nor consequences of the errant
direction. And when a few in the rising generation begin to seek the
fixed stars above, which they've read about in antiquity's forsaken
myths and felt deep within their souls, they will be branded crazy.
And when the classical rebels see the stars through the breaking fog,
and seek to navigate a straighter course by the Permanent Things, they
will encounter violent opposition from the postmodern culture czars
who benefit from the lack of higher standards, who prefer their
arbitrary will to the rule of Law in cultural entities ranging from
politics, to architecture, to education, to poetry. The relativistic
oligarchy shall view the rising poets' loyalty to God as insolent
rebellion, and the postmodern media shall be commanded to destroy
them. And on that day, the postmodern critics' souls shall be tested,
as they choose to be loyal to tyrants or Truths greater than
themselves, as they choose to remain upon postmodern liberalism's
sinking ship or sign aboard a fighting frigate bound for eternity.
Continued at:
http://www.killdevilhill.com/phorum/read.php?f=146&i=130&t=130
(JOLLYROGER.COM PENPALS AT http://JOLLYROGER.COM/PENPALS )
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| User: "Spartakus" |
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| Title: Re: WE SALUTE RONALD REAGAN: THE AMERICAN PHILOSOPHER, THINKER, AND MAN |
10 Jun 2004 12:11:56 PM |
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(Ranger West) wrote...
JOLLYROGER.COM: NAVIGATING AN AMERICAN RENAISSANCE
Introduction
By Drake Raft, Becket Knottingham, and Dr. Elliot McGucken
(JOLLYROGER.COM MARINE CORPS PENPALS AT http://JOLLYROGER.COM/PENPALS )
He saw the townlands
And learned the minds of many distant men
And weathered many bitter nights and days
In his deep heart at sea, while he fought only
To save his life, to bring his shipmates home.
--Book I, The Odyssey
Ahoy there mates! Contained herein are the captain's logs of The Jolly
Roger, flagship of Classicals & jollyroger.com LLC. The words were set
down during a five year voyage of fantastic romance, peril, and
adventure, as the Good Ship sailed the WWW on towards an American
Renaissance. Beyond the fogs of cynicism we've navigated, and at the
breaking edge of postmodern liberalism, we've sighted the dawning of a
classical revival that shall be known by the rising generation, as
well as by all who count themselves members of the community of
eternal souls.
So when is "Talk Like A Pirate" Day?
.
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| User: "Adam H." |
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| Title: Re: WE SALUTE RONALD REAGAN: THE AMERICAN PHILOSOPHER, THINKER, AND MAN |
10 Jun 2004 12:22:53 PM |
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On 10 Jun 2004 10:11:56 -0700, (Spartakus)
wrote:
jollyrogership@yahoo.com (Ranger West) wrote...
JOLLYROGER.COM: NAVIGATING AN AMERICAN RENAISSANCE
Introduction
By Drake Raft, Becket Knottingham, and Dr. Elliot McGucken
(JOLLYROGER.COM MARINE CORPS PENPALS AT http://JOLLYROGER.COM/PENPALS )
He saw the townlands
And learned the minds of many distant men
And weathered many bitter nights and days
In his deep heart at sea, while he fought only
To save his life, to bring his shipmates home.
--Book I, The Odyssey
Ahoy there mates! Contained herein are the captain's logs of The Jolly
Roger, flagship of Classicals & jollyroger.com LLC. The words were set
down during a five year voyage of fantastic romance, peril, and
adventure, as the Good Ship sailed the WWW on towards an American
Renaissance. Beyond the fogs of cynicism we've navigated, and at the
breaking edge of postmodern liberalism, we've sighted the dawning of a
classical revival that shall be known by the rising generation, as
well as by all who count themselves members of the community of
eternal souls.
So when is "Talk Like A Pirate" Day?
International Talk Like a Pirate Day is September 19th.
No, I'm not kidding.
http://www.talklikeapirate.com/
--
Faith is the great cop-out, the great excuse to
evade the need to think and evaluate evidence.
Faith is belief in spite of, even perhaps because of,
the lack of evidence.
- Richard Dawkins
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| User: "Ranger West" |
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| Title: Re: WE SALUTE RONALD REAGAN: THE AMERICAN PHILOSOPHER, THINKER, AND MAN |
11 Jun 2004 08:22:38 AM |
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We celebrate "post like a poet" day over here.
<A href=http://carolinanavy.com>The Great Books</a>
Come lighthouse builders, soldiers of the word,
Come gather 'round me on this soft spring eve,
Prime yer wit's pistols, polish wisdom's sword,
For we're setting sail for all we believe.
Where principle transcends all politics,
Where lawyers are replaced by higher law,
Where children amongst the Great Books frolic,
Defenders of honor are held in awe.
For isn't forever worth fighting for?
Where rhyme and reason resound once again,
What sailor's soul could ever ask for more,
Than to serve the Lord with poetry's pen?
And I think I feel that ancient wind rising,
It's a choice I made, girl, so long ago,
The tide's turning, and we're both realizing,
That far, far away, this captain must go.
With all these castles built on shifting sands,
There's not much left for a poet 'round here,
All that can keep me now, from far off lands,
Is fearing that this fog will never clear.
This fog-- I just can't help dreaming beyond,
Dreaming a dream so bold it must be real,
Until that day which has never yet dawned,
Is crossed by my spirit's thundering keel.
'Cause I know there's just got to be a place
With wondrous mountains and a shining sea,
With Caroline's grace and beautiful face,
Where moral beauty's anchor sets ye free.
And I know that in-between here and there,
I'll sail on by some more who don't believe,
Forgive the blind leading the blind nowhere,
For in the end it's themselves they deceive.
Tonight I'm setting sail for victory,
Too many people talking of decline,
Tomorrow is the children's history,
So in me wake I'll leave them something fine.
Come sailors and sinners, it's not too late,
Serve something Greater, mate, and it shall save ye,
Set sail to make eternity yer fate,
Come serve aboard the Carolina Navy.
<A href=http://carolinanavy.com>The Great Books</a>
Adam H. <adam@mailinator.com> wrote in message news:<656hc01ju5jcmct8bte79l4d4floj7rmmi@4ax.com>...
On 10 Jun 2004 10:11:56 -0700, (Spartakus)
wrote:
jollyrogership@yahoo.com (Ranger West) wrote...
JOLLYROGER.COM: NAVIGATING AN AMERICAN RENAISSANCE
Introduction
By Drake Raft, Becket Knottingham, and Dr. Elliot McGucken
(JOLLYROGER.COM MARINE CORPS PENPALS AT http://JOLLYROGER.COM/PENPALS )
He saw the townlands
And learned the minds of many distant men
And weathered many bitter nights and days
In his deep heart at sea, while he fought only
To save his life, to bring his shipmates home.
--Book I, The Odyssey
Ahoy there mates! Contained herein are the captain's logs of The Jolly
Roger, flagship of Classicals & jollyroger.com LLC. The words were set
down during a five year voyage of fantastic romance, peril, and
adventure, as the Good Ship sailed the WWW on towards an American
Renaissance. Beyond the fogs of cynicism we've navigated, and at the
breaking edge of postmodern liberalism, we've sighted the dawning of a
classical revival that shall be known by the rising generation, as
well as by all who count themselves members of the community of
eternal souls.
So when is "Talk Like A Pirate" Day?
International Talk Like a Pirate Day is September 19th.
No, I'm not kidding.
http://www.talklikeapirate.com/
.
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| User: "Spartakus" |
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| Title: Re: WE SALUTE RONALD REAGAN: THE AMERICAN PHILOSOPHER, THINKER, AND MAN |
13 Jun 2004 05:01:13 PM |
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(Ranger West) wrote:
[...]
Do you have a poem about Reagan laying a wreath on the Tomb of the
Unknown Storm Trooper at Bitburg?
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| User: "Ranger West" |
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| Title: Re: WE SALUTE RONALD REAGAN: THE AMERICAN PHILOSOPHER, THINKER, AND MAN |
14 Jun 2004 01:50:35 PM |
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from http://jollyroger.com
IN THE NAME OF FREEDOM:
The night fell fast, I found myself alone,
A DC summer storm was blowing in,
I stood at the tomb, these soldiers unknown,
and knelt and prayed for the rain to begin.
Not for the monuments nor any money,
nor pomp, circumstance, nor the pedant's pride,
the politician's smile, nor lawyer's fee,
for these present treasures, none of them died.
I ran to Jefferson to read the wall,
to make sure that God was still written there,
then to Washington, and across the Mall,
where Lincoln invoked his immortal prayer,
Winded and ragged, lightning everywhere,
I slowed to a walk, pondered what would be,
if God's great Enlightenment weren't there,
we could still be brave but never be free.
I found comfort in the Mall's mud and rain,
without mines nor cannons nor raining shells,
so free from fear, iniquity, and pain,
because thousands had endured a thousand hells.
And I found myself back before the tomb,
humbled by the humbled, with naught for name,
shivering, though they had the colder room,
sans light, nor sound, nor tomorrow, nor fame.
I thought for a moment, what it could be,
the center and circumference of their dreaming,
it must have been the prophet's poetry,
that granted their souls eternal meaning.
So judges and Congressmen, please don't forget,
the reason these patriots picked up swords,
not for perks nor power were their deaths met,
but for honor and duty-- for mere words.
So do take pause before telling a lie,
for there's one more thing I saw on that night,
as the wind and the rain began to die,
I walked away, turned, and beheld a light.
Wil'O'wisp, reddish light, sailor's delight,
It hovered there-- just above the tomb's stone,
As fading thunder whispered to the night,
"Freedom's the name of all soldiers unknown."
from http://jollyroger.com
spartakus@my-deja.com (Spartakus) wrote in message news:<6ed74dfa.0406131401.496a1e5e@posting.google.com>...
jollyrogership@yahoo.com (Ranger West) wrote:
[...]
Do you have a poem about Reagan laying a wreath on the Tomb of the
Unknown Storm Trooper at Bitburg?
.
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