Wandering Around

 

So whaddya do on Easter Tuesday? Train El Diacono to say the Mass, well done. Then wander through the sylvan boulevards of Olde Tejas to the Square. Take that in, in all its Confederate monument glory, and note the Gold Nugget Pawn's new signage.

Well done, boys, long may you reign. But what's this? Texan Pride? Is that some kind of rainbow thing? No, it is not. Reassured, glance into the shopfront of "Alterations" and spot a pink glitter mushroom. Hunh. Some kind of disco scene perhaps. And next door?

The newly opened Ember Cigar Lounge, promising fine wines, bourbon and, of course, cigars. Now, I don't even like cigars, as a rule, but ventured in to see what it was all about. And, per Ember's marketing it was about "Tradition, Honor, Excellence." Bold call, did Hill County's first cigar lounge live up to promise? 

Sure it did, in a North Central Texan Exclusion Zone kind of way. Plenty of cigars, which are traditional for a cigar lounge, and I'm sure many of them were excellent and sold honorably, give or take, fair play. Overall ambiance? Not bad at all, with some big boys turning up half-way through, so I had fun for an hour or so. But will the "high-end-cigar-bar" concept take off on the town square.

Maybe it will and I hope it does, after all, there's plenty of lawyers congregated in the townsquare hub of this county seat and hey, we could all do with a civilized place to meet and drink in the center of town, such as it is. Whatever, the guys who run this new setup have a good vision and I hope it succeeds, we'll see.

In the meanwhile, I've promised them photos from St. James and Clubland next week.

Ad Solem,

LSP

Yes We Do Requests

 

Sure thing. Here at the Compound we're pretty much always ready to fire up the juke box and play requests. This one's from Wild, and what a one it is.

Good call. And Wild, I see your BST with BOC. Turn it up:

Oh yes indeed. 

So don't be shy, send in your tunes,

LSP 

STAND STEADY

 

Well done, boy, go for that commission. Keep your eye on the ball.

Just sayn'.

Your Old Pal,

LSP

Attention Soldats!

 

Ici. Patria Nostra.

La Mort c'est la Vie,

LSP

PS. How'd that fat guy get through selection?

PPS. Back in the mists of time we had a corporal in HQ Battalion who'd fled the Gloucesters for the 2nd Rep, for "some action" and then caught religion, jumped ship and handed himself in to UKLF. Pending trial for his infamy he served as acting corp, he'd give orders in French, "Soldats!" Good man and now, I believe, an Anglican Deacon somewhere in England. So.

Tracer - An Apology

 

Huh, so-called LSP, we came to this mind blog looking for neat photos of tracer fire and all we got was another Waylon video and a poorly written mini-rant. Guilty as charged, so to make up for the deficiency here's some tracer.

Yes, I want this rig

Russkie tracer

US tracer

Sandy

There you have it, tracer. Word to the wise, mind how you go shooting these little miscreants in the dry heat of a Texan summer. Don't want to set the countryside alight, you see.

Shoot straight,

LSP

Clubs

 

Have you noticed there's this weird axiom or principle. Viz. Don't go to war against Russia."Ha, ha!" you say, "We are so powerful now that we can defeat that puny 13 time zone state, with its peasant ways and backwards obsession with artillery." Like how weird, here's a country which actually makes shells for its guns, how primitive and stupid.

Then there's Western Europe, which has gambled for decades on never, ever having to fight another kinetic war. You know, with guns and missiles and actual soldiers. Oops.

In other news, the Eagles are gearing up for an RV in London. This means, for me, revitalizing club memberships. Witch one? I hear the yuck Reform's going cheap. Then there's the nasty National Liberal Club. Abhorrent, but think of the reciprocity.

The Bangalore Club, the Bermuda Yacht Club, our very own Petroleum, and on across the world. And you get a beautiful Thames Embankment terrace, which we love. And reciprocal at the good old East India and the nasty Army club in DC.

Ad pursuit of happiness,

LSP

Alright? Rollright

 

Years ago, whaddya do? Drive out of London for the ROLLRIGHT STONES. Set up with a few tarps, grill venison on ye olde homely fire pit, drink a few Hackney Spritzers and then go to the stones as the Moon waxes full.

And there they were, us and the ancient stones themselves, shining in the silvery light of the moon, so ghostly Selene. Witch way? But no Wild Hunt. No UFOs. No ghosts. No portals to another time and space, or were there? Maybe not so fast.

Mr. Winwood sings about it in his acclaimed song:

Rock on kids,

LSP

Tzarina

 

Failed Davos Clown BoJo quipped at G7 with his elite goofoff rulers that Russia wouldn't be a threat if it was run by women. Excuse me? See Catherine the Great. 

who reads the Economist anymore anyway? BoJo, what a clownfall

BoJo now rests in the dustbin of history as the failed ruler he is. Unlike, say, Putin, and his beautiful, powerful female successor, see video.

Your Pal,

LSP

Ride On

 

Look at this fool, a couple of years back. Well it's all fun and games till you break your femur. But I tell you, it's a great thing to go fast on a horse. I know, many of you have forgotten more about riding than I'll ever know, but we're not scoring points here, just having fun.

Ride On,

LSP

Yum, Pancake Time!

 

Time for pancakes. And I'll leave it at that.

Yum!

LSP

Candlemas 2022

 

You may have missed it but today's Candlemas, the beautiful feast of the church year in which the Old Testament is fulfilled in terms of the New and Christ, the living temple, enters into His earthly facsimile.  It is, when you think on it, a bridge to Easter.

Here's Newman:

The Angel-lights of Christmas morn,

Which shot across the sky,

Away they pass at Candlemas,

They sparkle and they die.

Comfort of earth is brief at best,

Although it be divine;

Like funeral lights for Christmas gone,

Old Simeon's tapers shine.

And then for eight long weeks and more

We wait in twilight grey,

Till the high candle sheds a beam

On Holy Saturday.

We wait along the penance-tide

Of solemn fast and prayer;

While song is hush'd, and lights grow dim

In the sin-laden air.

And while the sword in Mary's soul

Is driven home, we hide

In our own hearts, and count the wounds

Of passion and of pride.

And still, though Candlemas be spent

And Alleluias o'er,

Mary is music in our need,

And Jesus light in store.

Bless you all.

Ἐν ἀρχῇ ἦν ὁ λόγος,

LSP

Well Done Son

 

He's happy, I'm happy, the Army's happy because a Specialist's done well and passed a Soldier of The Month board, which opens up NCO school and makes his leaders look good, so they're happy too. So what next?

A new regiment, obviously, to guard our southern border, the President's Own, made up of lancers, auxiliary Mexicans, a "melee" and associated hard chargers. Hon. Col.? Melania. She inspires the troops, and all of us. Unlike, say, Dr. Jill or the Field Hand.

In other news, Miss Trudeau's fled Canada to a secret location because a fringe minority of truckers have taken over zhir main city, Ottawa. Oops, time to go, Justine. You can imagine the transgendered gnashing of teeth in Toronto.

And what's with Toronto anyway? They think their city's so cosmopolitan and European but it's just this place in Canada, which has to be fed... by truckers. 

Arduus Ad Solem,

LSP

Musk Rocks Neil Young is an Idiot

And in the darkness bind them https://t.co/BvxR4HTTq1

— Elon Musk (@elonmusk) January 27, 2022

You may think that Elon Musk, the world's richest man, is strange and weird but he's got Covid tyranny down. In the darkness bind them. Well said, Mr. Musk, and how willingly they're bound.

Canadian truckers rule

— Elon Musk (@elonmusk) January 27, 2022

Unless you're a Canadian trucker and Elon, who loves the Peoples' Currency, DOGE$, is all in favor of the Convoy. Canadian truckers rule. But how to defeat Justine and associated rainbow safety tyrants? 

 

Vote them out

— Elon Musk (@elonmusk) January 27, 2022

Good call but do we still have that luxury ? In the meanwhile, Neil Young's an idiot.

Your Pal,

LSP

Te Deum

 

I leave you with this.

Gloria,

LSP

Loadout

 

And That's Just The Start

We've come to this critical part of the evening where we're talking loadout. What can and should you carry when SHTF in an EOTW scenario or even, kyrie, actual warfare. What do you carry and how heavy should it be?

Current US doctrine says something in the region of >100 Lbs, plus water, ammo, helmet, yet more ammo, weapon and all the rest. Very, very heavy. Maybe as heavy as the fighter himself. So there you have all these guys humping at least 100 Lbs of stuff around. Nightmare, you're so heavy you can't operate, to say nothing of no knees in the future.

So whaddya do? Stash the unnecessary kit in a hole somewhere, a "cache," and march on with what you actually need. Point being, take what you need. Maybe that's just an FN and some stupidly short shorts.

All this in mind, no, I did not go running with an 80 Lb load the other day, but I did cook some delicious mac cheese. Yum. Caveat, fall upon your enemies and destroy them utterly.

Travel Light,

LSP

Get Out And Fish

 

It's not much fun getting up in the dark at a ridiculously early hour but you know it's worth it as you power across the lake in Pat's skiff, followed by a fiery Texan sunrise.

We were looking for striper and sure enough, Pat knows where to find them. He's just a great guide, friendly, helpful and most importantly he gets you on the fish, usually with live shad. But today it was all about 6" Cotton Cordell pencil poppers and big silver spoons.

Old LSP with a fish

First off, topwater poppers and brisk action as the ferocious predators exploded onto our lures like Red Guards on a gang of recidivist Mensheviks. Or something like that. But look, and I know you're all experts, in the adrenaline rush excitement of the strike, do not try a premature hookset. 

Don't do it, no, let the fish take the lure down into the depths and if he doesn't, leave it be, chances are the enraged bass will come back again and again in its misguided fury. And you'll get your fish.

A few big fellas

Next up, silver spoons, which are a workout. Drop the spoon into the water, let it hit bottom, then "whippit up, and let it flutter down. They'll tear into that thing." And so they did, but not so much for me. Still, I wasn't complaining, the topwater had been outstanding.

Then back to the boat ramp, where Pat cleaned the fish in a fraction of the time I could've done and that was that, back to the Compound where fish awaits. My plan is this. Salt and pepper a fillet or two, pan fry in olive oil on medium high heat, serve with some kind of vegetable or two and fall on that scoff like a warrior.

What a good morning! Thanks, S.O. for the fun, and Pat for being a great guide.

Fish On,

LSP

A Magic Train

What a beautiful train, and it seems appropriate right about now, don't you think?

Kizmet,

LSP

Boyz in The Hood

You may be surprised at this or you may not, but my eldest seemed way happier in uniform than  he was pretending to be a civilian for the last month. Seriously. Hey, just as well, because the kid had to report to Fort Hood today.

We drove out down the Highway to Hell that is I35 and emerged miraculously unscathed in Killeen, a short hop from there to "The Great Place," home of III Corps Phantom Warriors and lots more besides, not least expeditionary signals.

After waiting for an hour to get a pass to enter the fort, we drove on through to the vastness of the thing, and it is huge. The 1st Cavalry motorpool(s) alone probably mustered more armor than the UK's combined equivalent. Quite a thing.

Then we had a late lunch at a dysfunctional Burger King on base and I dropped the Specialist off at the "Welcome Center." Well done, boy, respect. He's got 2 weeks of in-processing and then joins his unit, 57 Expeditionary Signals Battalion, who've been blessed with lighter kit, demanding 4 man teams and a leadership program to boot.

Well, let's see how that goes. In the meanwhile, maybe I should go in as a volunteer chaplain, it'd add another level of accountability, as t'were. Just a thought.

Whatever, good luck son, you've done well so far. Now let's see "green to gold," not that there's any pressure, heh.

God bless,

LSP

Get Yer Ya Yas Out!

Ya Yas? No, not the famous Rolling Stones album but Ya Ya's Mexican diner, which used to be called Montes. It belongs to Ya Ya now because she took it over from the previous owners after being a waitress there for years. Good for her.

The menu's the same, though the waterproof tablecloths have changed from faux western style worked leather to an attractive dun color, complete with horseshoes. And I tell you, it's the best Mexican food in this small Texan farming community. 

I always get huevos rancheros, refried beans, fried potato chunks, two eggs over easy on corn tortillas with salsa fresca. And it comes complete with two tasty homemade tortillas, which you use to clean up the plate as you listen to Mexican dance music over the tannoy and drink strong coffee. Delicious, right on the money and good luck Ya Ya, may you prosper.

There's a dinosaur museum next to the restaurant, featuring reconstructed saurians and even whole fossilized skeletons. It used to be a filling station, the HQ of a chain that extended, according to local legend, to Europe. I haven't been in because the hours are strange, but I will; it'd be good to learn about our Jurassic past after a satisfying encounter with Mexico at Ya Ya's.

We're told by the experts that a comet or asteroid strike killed off the dinosaurs, and maybe it did. We're also told that humans in any way, shape or form didn't exist then, and it seems preposterous to think we did. That said, why are there fossilized human footprints running alongside those of dinosaurs?

Science says they're fake, not dissimilar, when you think about it, to our election results.

Cheers,

LSP

A Ferocious Wolf!

Thanks to 357 Magnum we have exclusive photos and video footage of the White Wolf Mine, somewhere in Arizona:

Yes, a terrifying, robotic "monster wolf." Bears, wisely, run from the wolf and who can blame them? Rumors of tailors, Chinese food and open source intel, wisely construed, are just that, rumors.

A typical wolf

Thanks, 357, for the link.

Cheers,

LSP