Welcome statement
“Parting Words from Moristotle” (07/31/2023)
tells how to access our archives
of art, poems, stories, serials, travelogues,
essays, reviews, interviews, correspondence….
Lessons from an Outlier
By Marshall Carder
[This essay appeared originally on WordPress, posted on March 20, 2016, prior to the election of Donald Trump as President of the United States. Republished here with the permission of the author.]
The rise of Donald Trump as a serious contender for President has elicited an avalanche of criticism aimed at stopping this impending catastrophe in its tracks. Comparing his rapid ascent to that of the most reviled figure in recent history, Hitler, is so common that it may have lost its power to disgust. The tired analogy is generally thrown around mostly as pure hyperbole by both sides of the political spectrum, but in Trump’s case that is chillingly not so. In a few short months he has gone from a laughingstock orange carnival barker to the overwhelming favorite to gain the Republican nomination, and he has done so with a sordid mix of lies, insults and incitement which can only be understood properly if you have lived through this type of thing before. There is a good reason that the experts and pundits failed miserably to notice his sick and widespread appeal. They have not witnessed first-hand what “normal” people will resort to when the rhetoric and circumstances have ignited their inner furies and primal fear. There is almost nothing they won’t do in defense of their “principals” (read Rights).
Of “A Little Slice of Fife”
By Brooks Carder
My son Marshall has told the story of our golfing trip to Scotland so well that it doesn’t need a different perspective to be told from. But perhaps I can add to the story by citing some of my personal impressions and experiences.
Carnoustie Golf Links
By Marshall Carder
Bert had agreed to drive us around the council area of Fife up to Carnoustie (in the council area of Angus) and arrived very early the next day to collect us for the hour ride. We were well rested but full of anticipation and downright fear of facing such a tough course, but at the same time we had just played three straight days on the most hallowed ground in golf, so we almost felt like we were going to be able to handle it.
Celebration
By Marshall Carder
We had finished our jaunt around the world’s most famous course and now it was time for reflection. We tipped and thanked Paddy, our caddie, and made our way up to the pub on the corner for some libations and grub. Brooks ordered the haggis and the rest of us went for the fish and chips. Sitting on the bench against the wall, Brooksie was practically lying on his right side but clearly intending to be seated. I asked him if he wanted to sit up and he replied that he had found a comfortable position that was not hurting so he wasn’t moving. But even in that state, the pure sense of joy was radiating from him. Over and over he kept making comments about how great it was.
On the Old Course
By Marshall Carder
As the sun rose the next morning, we were all up already. There was very little banter, for we were all a little tired and perhaps a bit nervous about what we were about to undertake. So, with all of our hopes and dreams hanging in the balance, we emerged from our beachfront home and started the walk toward the course.
St. Andrews!
By Marshall Carder
And so we set off for St. Andrews. The train up from Liverpool was particularly eventful and certainly would have made for some lively and interesting conversations among the local English folks, if they were naturally inclined.
The dream emerges
By Marshall Carder
As the weekly rounds turned into years, the bonds between everyone grew despite all of the on-course antics. There were many scenes of high drama, like the time Brooksie told Christian after a round that he had better seek professional help because he was the craziest person Brooksie had ever met, which was saying a whole lot considering his background in psychology and Synanon. You see, Wells had adamantly disagreed about the final resting place of one of Brooksie’s balls and a full-blown shouting match had ensued complete with all manner of denigration. And normally that type of behavior could have resulted in a parting of ways, but for Golfers it meant nothing after the next t-time was made. Such is the power of the game.
What is it about golf?
By Marshall Carder
One senses a magical anticipation just before a round of golf. It’s much like that feeling you had as a child on Christmas Eve, wondering what your presents would be, hoping for the perfect gift, even seeing yourself holding it, and yet all the while knowing that you could end up with a bunch of ugly clothes from Grandma. And I guess that’s why the game has had such an allure to so many for so long. Because you know there’s such a thing as a perfect score, and you can hit every shot, if only in your mind. And even though the game might never deliver that perfect score, there are moments when the shots are timeless and brilliant and would be good on any course, in any tournament. That is the game’s hook. That is what keeps us coming back.
