Sunday, September 22, 2019

Rehab - Another Triumph Of The Will

People often tell me, they say, "LSP, do the rehab." And I do, it goes like this. Look at your sturdy wooden cane and thank God it's not some flimsy piece of tariff-ridden aluminium rubbish that's made in China. Perhaps this cane is a badge of rank. 

Buoyed up by the positive thought, use the thing to navigate across the Compound's attractive front porch and into the waiting rig. Then drive to one of the Missions for Sunday Mass, reflecting on the weaponlike aspect of the stick at your side. Too bad it doesn't conceal a sword or a Derringer. Reverie over, use it to nav from the car park to the sacristy, where the lights are mysteriously off.

Non Illuminatio

Struck by the lack of illumination, observe your MC sitting in the dark and greet him with a sunny "Hello Dracula" while waving the stick about, Bram Stoker style. He was trying to sleep, the MC, not Mr. Stoker, because "a dog got me up at 4.00 a.m." Bless him.

Commiserate over the furry alarm clock issue, vest, pray and make your way to the back of the church for the "entrance procession," stick in hand. Use it to lean on, point it at people, practice drill movements with it, whatever, a useful prop. But Bronc Dracula has other ideas.


"You're not using that for Mass," he says with steely cowboy resolve. You can't argue with that, so I hung the wretched thing up on a coat rack as if a testimony to a miraculous cure, and the Mass began. 

No cane, no walker, and there it was, genuflections to boot. First time I'd genuflected since I was kicked off the horse, and it felt good, a veritable triumph of the will or more precisely, modern medicine.

Thanks, MC, sometimes it doesn't hurt to be pushed and if it does, so be it. Now in fairness, my friend's been thrown off more horses than I've ridden, and I've ridden a few. You can see, perhaps, why I wasn't about to argue the stick. Respect, and don't look or be weak in front of the team, especially when one of them's a Bronc Dracula.


And that, vast international readership, is the story of that. A short tale of God, Church, Rehab and Country Life in Texas.

Ride on,


Friday, September 20, 2019

All The News That's Fit To Print

What a blizzard of news. Where to begin? Let's start with a superstar celebrity actor who identifies as female, millionaire socialist Megan Fox.

She's dismayed that her son's being bullied at school, which is why she persists in sending him there dressed as a girl. Smart or what, Megan, but that's not all. Canada's Premiere has been exposed as a serial blackfacer. 

Will Justin "Minstrel" Trudeau be dethroned from the Great White North's rainbow dais only to become Governor of Virginia? Time will tell.

Further afield, the US Navy, in a rare moment of candor, has admitted that three videos of UAPs (Unexplained Aerial Phenomenon) are real. Like no joke, here are these craft the Navy can't explain performing gymnastics in front of fighter pilots, and it's real. 

So where are they from? Good question, as is this. Will the comet that's approaching our solar system slow down when it gets here? If it does we might be glad of a powerful Space Force.

All this to say nothing of millions of children being taken out of school across the globe to have breakdowns about The Weather. Some call it child abuse, others wonder why the organizers love abortion, just think of the children. But here at the Compound we wonder how many weather strikers are boys, miserably forced to wear frocks by their witch mothers.

But not to worry, Biden's interests in the Ukraine are safe as leaking houses, the Wall's being built, and there's a rumor of rain in Texas.

Please, God, let this last thing be true.

Your Old Friend,


Wednesday, September 18, 2019

In The Ghetto

This one's for fellow blogger, patriot, journalist and art philospopher, Jules. Sometimes you find yourself in the ghetto. Whaddya do? Climb into the rig and play Elvis' soulful tune at VOLUME as you drive up and down the street, while local PD takes down dealers and confiscates Range Rovers.

Behold Our Urban Shitholes

Speaking of which, a girl once said to me, "I wrote an essay on the ghetto," she was a TA at SMU. After she'd gone a friend commented, "I thought you'd sh*t and go blind." 



Tuesday, September 17, 2019

Because Awesome

Lemmy told me to f*ck off, once.

That is all.


Black Rifle Beto Blow Out!

Do you remember Millionaire Socialist Irish Bob "Beto" telling America that he'd confiscate your deadly assault rifles when he gets to be President? 

Gun shop owners across the nation certainly did, and weren't slow to offer cut-price Beto blowouts on AR 15s and AK 47s. 

Thanks to Beto's marketing genius, guns are flying off the shelves as semi-auto, gas-gun mania grips the hearts, minds and pocketbooks of freedom loving Americans everywhere. And who can blame them?

Why spend more on one of these modular, adaptable, handy, easy to shoulder, these days accurate, annoying to clean but fun to shoot liberty rifles than you have to? And that's where the famous Beto discount kicks in. 

Thanks to Irish Bob we can all add to our existing armories at hundreds off the regular price, allowing the smart shooter to invest in more ammunition and further firearms. Useful when the SHTF, right? So well done, Irish Bob, you've done us all a favor.

But seriously, why is it that pretty much everything the Libleft proposes or enacts produces the exact opposite of its stated effect? It's like some kind of axiom.

Gun rights,


Monday, September 16, 2019

Cheer Up It's Monday!

Do you remember Bob Geldof, the famous Boomtown Rat? He didn't like Mondays at all, wanted to shoot the whole day down. But how can you not like Mondays when we have a Space Force?

And great street art.

Morale still need boosting? 

Then look at this, yes, America's popular and glamorous First Lady. Here she is with the Queen, helping us all to turn that frown upside down.

Thank you, Melania, for doing your part to make America great again.



Sunday, September 15, 2019

Battle of Britain Interlude

"What was it like?" I asked a man who had lived through the Battle of Britain. I was  maybe nine at the time and my ancient friend, he must've been in his fifties, didn't reply. 

A woman serving tea at London's Imperial War Museum answered for him, "They always want to know," before striding imperiously  into the cockney ether.

Respect to the men who turned the Luftwaffe and prayers for those who gave their lives.

God bless,


Saturday, September 14, 2019

Exaltation of the Holy Cross

Today's the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. Here's the Gospel for the day, via the Anglican Missal:

St. John 12. 31. 
At that time: Jesus said unto the multitudes of the Jews: Now is the judgment of this world: now shall the prince of this world be cast out. And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me. (This he said, signifying what death he should die.) The people answered him: We have heard out of the law that Christ abideth for ever: and how sayest thou: The Son of man must be lifted up? Who is this Son of man? Then Jesus said unto them: Yet a little while is the light with you. Walk while ye have the light, lest darkness come upon you: for he that walketh in darkness knoweth not whither he goeth. While ye have light, believe in the light, that ye may be the children of light.

Believe in the light, that ye may be children of light. Amen to that, in these dark and murderous times. Here's the Collect:

GOD, who as on this day dost gladden us with the yearly festival of the Exaltation of thy Holy Cross: grant, we beseech thee, that we which on earth have known the mystery of the redemption which thou hast wrought for us, may be found worthy to receive the rewards thereof in heaven. Who livest...

You may recall that the True Cross was carried into action at the disastrous battle of the Horns of Hattin, which saw the Outremer army utterly defeated by Saladin. The Cross was captured by the Moslem general, who took Jerusalem shortly after. A Golgotha? Perhaps, and I'd argue the Middle East, to say nothing of the West, is still paying the price.

Regardless, St. Francis attempted to convert Saladin. He failed, but so impressed the Mohammedan that he returned the Cross to the saint.

Pax Tibi, Per Crucem,


Friday, September 13, 2019

Cooking With LSP - Striper

Yeah, 'cooking with LSP.' Some kind of joke? On the contrary, here's how it's done. Today's the Feast of St. John Chrysostom but it's also a Friday, which means you can't eat meat. Problem. Solution? Cook up some fish, obviously. Watch my tracer.


First step, catch the fish. Get in a boat and surge out into the lake, then put your rod over the side and haul in amazing Striper. Keep doing that till you've caught your limit and head back to shore, job well done. Watch in amazement as the guide cleans the fish in a fraction of the time it'd take you to do. 


Second step, cook the fish. How? Here's one method and it's as easy as the DNC blocking Tulsi Gabbard. Wash a monster Striper filet in the sink, pat it dry, salt the fish, and congratulate yourself on sticking to mission while you have a glass of the right stuff. 

Shoot the Fish?

Maybe that's water, maybe it's not, your call. Whatever, don't waste time, cut the filet in half with a sharp knife, sharp as a clean Brexit from the EU.

Pan Sear

Well done, you've gone far, but there's still a way to go. Put some olive oil and butter in a frying pan and heat it up, medium high. As the oil begins to smoke like an Inspector General's report ready to go critical, add the fish to the pan. Listen in wonder as it sizzles.

Not Perfect But Tasty As You Like

Fry for about four minutes a side depending on the thickness of the filet, your goal is a crispy, golden brown exterior and firm, succulent, flaky interior. That achieved or approximated to, crack some pepper over the fish and serve with lemon and some kind of vegetable. Don't say Beto.

Third step. Fall on your scoff like a warrior.

Fish on,


Thursday, September 12, 2019

The War On Terror - 18 Years Out

After the 9/11 atrocity I was as keen as anyone else to hit the enemy back, and hit hard. You can't fly planes into the WTC and the Pentagon with impunity, Muslims. And so began the War on Terror, a war in which the enemy was never identified, only a tactic, a war which has proved inconclusive at best, a heinous waste of life at worst.

18 years after December 7th, 1941 was 1959. Japan and Germany had largely been rebuilt. The threat they had represented was relegated to history books and movies. The United States had made the decision to eliminate those threats, converted to a war footing, won decisively, and returned to a peacetime economy that was the envy of the world.
18 years after September 11, 2001 is 2019.
We never identified the enemy. We never declared war. We called it a war. The War on Terror. A complete failure to identify the enemy and an undeclared war on a tactic. Invaded two countries inconclusively. Then we decided to start rebuilding before we had won.
As a result, we have incurred 7,000 combat related U.S. military deaths, 54,000 injuries of which approximately 1,700 involved amputations, and there are 6,000 veteran suicides a year, every year.
In the process we have already spent 6 Trillion dollars. We did not tax or sell war bonds for this. It is all done with borrowing and deficits.
We used up the life of our ships, aircraft, vehicles, and weapons systems. We would be currently unable to effectively respond to another war. Our active obligations drive an ops tempo that do not allow for proper maintenance of equipment and push personnel into a continuous cycle of deployments.
We set in motion a surveillance apparatus that continues to grow, watching every move, call, text, click that we make.
We turned air travel into a Kafkaesque system where everyone, from 80 year old nuns to infants are suspects. It's all theater, but it's unpleasant, unconstitutional theater. And we spent a 100 Billion dollars just on that.
We have lost and are continuing to lose. We're negotiating with the Taliban. We don't control Afghanistan. We don't control Iraq. We are not safer than we were in 2001. We don't have any idea who is coming across our southern border. We don't know that the next attack won't be worse. We're far less free than we were.
If Osama Bin Laden wanted to make us bleed, both physically and economically, he won.

I'd say Borepatch has a point, and I'm pleased we have a president who seems reluctant to commit to more war, not least because I have a son in the game. And, if we're going to fight, let's identify the enemy and do it to win. I'll wager the Jihad, to say nothing of Saudi Arabia and its puppets inside the Beltway, wouldn't last long.

In the meanwhile, those responsible for the deaths should be held accountable. I know, good luck with that.

God bless,


Wednesday, September 11, 2019


Finally got a letter from the kid, who's cleverly found himself part of an Armored Brigade at Fort Benning. Such is Basic Training, and stick with it Kid.

He writes, "Zero Week was lame as hell, all we did was hang around and get uniforms. Now all we do is work out and stay tired."

You know what they say, train hard, think positive, fight easy. 

Go Panthers,


Never Forget

For admirably restrained commentary, see LL at Virtual Mirage. In the meanwhile, here's a prayer:

We pray for those who lost their lives on 9/11, for all who mourn, and all who so bravely risked their lives to save others. Lord teach us to be instruments of peace in a world that needs his love and healing. Amen.

God bless,