Listen up, all ye heathen.
We follow Christ as King. Where does he lead, follow me? To the Cross. This week, of all weeks, we're invited by our Mother the Church to walk the way of the Cross. May God give us the grace, strength and courage to do so. I do not say that lightly.
Yours,
LSP
Palm Sunday, the entrance to Holy Week, in which we stand with the exultant crowds welcoming Jesus into Jerusalem, acknowledging Christ as our king. Benedict XVI offers this reflection:
Let us return to today’s Gospel passage and ask ourselves: what is really happening in the hearts of those who acclaim Christ as King of Israel? Clearly, they had their own idea of the Messiah, an idea of how the long-awaited King promised by the prophets should act. Not by chance, a few days later, instead of acclaiming Jesus, the Jerusalem crowd will cry out to Pilate: “Crucify him!”, while the disciples, together with others who had seen him and listened to him, will be struck dumb and will disperse. The majority, in fact, was disappointed by the way Jesus chose to present himself as Messiah and King of Israel. This is the heart of today’s feast, for us too. Who is Jesus of Nazareth for us? What idea do we have of the Messiah, what idea do we have of God? It is a crucial question, one we cannot avoid, not least because during this very week we are called to follow our King who chooses the Cross as his throne. We are called to follow a Messiah who promises us, not a facile earthly happiness, but the happiness of heaven, divine beatitude. So we must ask ourselves: what are our true expectations? What are our deepest desires, with which we have come here today to celebrate Palm Sunday and to begin our celebration of Holy Week?
Serious questions, which today's feast and the week ahead invite us to answer. Who or what is most important to us, who do we really worship, what's our God? The Father's only begotten Son who died for us and rose again that we in Him might live or some other thing. Choose wisely dear friends, divine beatitude, eternal life itself hangs on the choice.
May God give us the grace to follow Christ as our true King, yes, to the Cross, but from there to new and resurrected life in Him.
Bless you all,
LSP
.jpg)
No rest for the wicked? Does Hillary Clinton sleep at night? Good question, and as we ponder Bleach Bit, hammers, kill lists and horrific scenes from Anthony Weiner's laptop we have to admit it's been an exhausting day for the Compound Crew.
First up. Load the dog in the rig and drive down I35 to Dallas and Ma LSP's place. Settle hound at Dallas HQ and make sure the aged p. is sorted for lunch, she was. Then drive to a place called Keller in a Honda Civic. Keller, if you don't know it, is deep Metrosprawl, out in the wildlands of the Mid Cities. Venture forth at your peril.
We did, and arrived at a small dealership just off of 377 where we bought a car, a 2015 Honda Accord coupe. Lowish miles, black, nimble, and hopefully a good mileage car at a decent price and all of that. The guys at the shop were fun too and a pleasure to do business with. Nice, but while waiting for paperwork, we took a spin through the neighborhood.
Behold typically largish brickish homes interspersed with apartment complexes and scenic strip malls. These often had rough-hewn stone arches surmounted by terracotta roofs with names like "Heritage."
"Just like Tuscany" I observed with drily. "Well that wasn't very nice." No, I admitted, sheepishly, it wasn't, "No room in heaven for that kind of thing, what?" Quite, and then we turned the corner into the largest HEB in the world ever.
Seriously, these people in Keller live high. I tell you, this place had everything. Spices, cheese, affordable meat, frozen goods, sushi made right on the spot and everything else. For all I know they may have sold chain mail and relics of the True Cross, but we didn't get that far. No, we checked out, ate the sushi in the shop's spacious BBQ joint and headed for Dallas via the dealership.
Car purchase complete and 377, 820, 121 and 114 complete we arrived back at Dallas HQ, mission accomplished and utterly exhausted.
No rest for the wicked, you see,
LSP
This seems appropriate right about now, a Lament for Our Lady's Shrine at Walsingham:
In the wracks of Walsingham
Whom should I choose
But the Queen of Walsingham
to be my guide and muse.
Then, thou Prince of Walsingham,
Grant me to frame
Bitter plaints to rue thy wrong,
Bitter woe for thy name.
Bitter was it so to see
The seely sheep
Murdered by the ravenous wolves
While the shepherds did sleep.
Bitter was it, O to view
The sacred vine,
Whilst the gardeners played all close,
Rooted up by the swine.
Bitter, bitter, O to behold
The grass to grow
Where the walls of Walsingham
So stately did show.
Such were the worth of Walsingham
While she did stand,
Such are the wracks as now do show
Of that Holy Land.
Level, level, with the ground
The towers do lie,
Which, with their golden glittering tops,
Pierced once to the sky.
Where were gates are no gates now,
The ways unknown
Where the press of peers did pass
While her fame was blown.
Owls do scrike where the sweetest hymns
Lately were sung,
Toads and serpents hold their dens
Where the palmers did throng.
Weep, weep, O Walsingham,
Whose days are nights,
Blessings turned to blasphemies,
Holy deeds to despites.
Sin is where Our Lady sat,
Heaven is turned to hell,
Satan sits where Our Lord did sway --
Walsingham, O farewell!
The Cure D'Ars said England would return to its former glory, and he knew a thing or two.
Salve,
LSP
Like wow, the first ever NHS managerial class DEI hire is enthroned as Non-Archbishop of Canterbury, the Greeks celebrate their liberation from Moslem tyranny and it's the Feast of the Annunciation to boot. Consider, if you can, the mocking, satanic implication of Mullally sitting on Augustine's throne. Good work, COE, you've just cemented your reputation as a State mockery of the Church.
There is, I think, a growing number of UK patriots who want to return to the Faith. They see, rightly, that Christianity's at the bedrock of this endeavor. But lo and behold their National Church, secularism reflecting secularism. Does this mean Reginald Pole was the last real deal?
Perhaps so. He was and is a Saint. The COE? One narrative reads like this: H8 needed cash, huge amounts of cash to fuel his princely authority on the Continent, think Field Of The Cloth of Gold, and more importantly, to pay off dynastic threats, see Belloc.
Net result? Some kind of pathetic joke sitting on the Throne of Augustine. In the meanwhile, it seems the Straits of Hormuz are messing with oil supply/demand. What's stopping us from just taking it? Whatever, if I was Pope of the West things might look like this:
Preußens Gloria❗️ ⬛️⬜️🟥Komponiert 1871 nach dem Sieg im Deutsch-Französischen Krieg und zur Reichsgründung.👑‚Preußens Gloria‘ ist das musikalische Herz unserer Einigkeit die ungeschlagene Hymne unserer Geschichte. 🎺‚Pro Gloria et Patria‘ – für Ruhm und Vaterland. ✠ pic.twitter.com/pt1xX97uvX— ℭ𝔥𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔭𝔥 𝔚𝔞𝔤𝔫𝔢𝔯-𝔏𝔦𝔢𝔟𝔥𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔯 (@wagn36507) March 25, 2026
Ad Imperium,
LSP
Perhaps some of you are animists and believe rivers, streams, oceans, trees and the grass itself to possess soul or spirit. As in, "The river which flows through our post-industrial urban hellhole is enlivened by the river nymph Asset-Stripper." Maybe you believe this animist juju, maybe you don't, but the new Bishop of St. Albans is all about it, which is why he blessed the river Marden as a "sentient being."
To be fair, the Right Reverend Dr Andrew Rumsey, newly minted bishop figure of St. Albans, wasn't the chief conductor of this riverine paganism. No, he just blessed it, signing off on pagan Councillor Robert MacNaughton. MacNaughton explained the nature of the event:
“I know rivers to be living beings, therefore they have their own consciousness and our consciousness can interact with theirs. If we put out positive feelings into rivers, then they reharmonize themselves in terms of that positive energy. If people put pollution into the rivers, they could become dead. Whilst we can't do anything about structural issues of the government, about water companies, what we can do is come to the rivers and say, we love you, you're fantastic, we need you.”
Wow, I stand in awe. Do you think, dear friends, that such Anglican Animism will bring people back to church? As in, "They're worshipping river spirits, better flock to Holy Communion on the first and second Sundays of the month."
Said no-one ever. What risible, pagan, greenlighting nonsense. Time to say enough is enough, St. Albans, we're looking at you.
Ad Flumina,
LSP
Yes indeed, Oz, Dallas, the great Metrosprawl, home to millions and millions of people chasing the dream. Fair play, the place has filling stations, complete with crazy homeless people who squat on the sidewalk on the corner of Illinois and Zang.
It has supermarkets too, like the local Tom Thumb, which has, they tell me, an outstanding in house florist, and it has Winnetka Heights where Ma LSP lives. I tell you, the area was sketchy in the '90s when the aged ps moved in. Now? Not so much.
So here we are in the 'sprawl in a spirit of filial piety, and that's no bad thing. Thank God, and I mean that, that our family is close enough to do such a thing, but I won't bang on, you get the point. In unrelated news, it seems the USS Gerald Ford's being laid up for 14 months because of a fire in its laundry room. Huh.
On topic, 47's announced back door negotiations with elements of Persian authority who apparently want peace. No nukes for us, just peace. How awesome. You'll note there's a 5 day rider on this deal which curiously coincides with a USMC taskforce arriving in theater.
OK, if Donny Boy takes down the Mullahs all is epic forgiven. If not? Since when did any of his base vote for moar war? They didn't, they voted for the opposite and he campaigned accordingly. Wow, what a gamble. If the Persian adventure backfires then bye-bye midterms and with it a massive L to the conservative movement in the Anglosphere, Europe and beyond.
Now, I'm not a gambling man, you know this, but if you were to suggest I wager my vicious and valuable fighting monkey on such odds I might raise an eyebrow. You can imagine the scene unfolding in a bay window looking onto St. James.
"I say, devilish busy in Hormuz. Tell ye what, my dog over your dead monkey all day long." We pause and consider, "Damme, money on and twice as fast, eh?"
Just throwing it out there, do feel free to disagree, and I forgot to say. Harvard is still Satan's Vatican though far more wealthy.
Cheers,
LSP
It's all go, I tell you. Glen cut the backyard's looming grass. Baby Woodpeckers did their thing on the feeders and we climbed into the rig and rode for Dallas. Not bad, light traffic bizarrely, and then there we were in Oz, the Dallas Metrosprawl, to see Ma LSP, result.
She's doing well after a fractured spine, thank you very much at the age of 83, and's walking about giving orders when not watching Edwardiana on BritBox. Speaking of the Sceptered Isle, you may have noticed their beloved government voted for abortion up to birth. Does this mean the UK's driven by demons? Serious question.
We present to you Two Tier Keir, 2TK, the most unpopular Prime Minister in the history of history. Even the repellent Guardian admits it.
Poltroon
Mountebank, fraud and grifter.
2TK's worth an estimated nifty £7-13 million. Not Socialist shabby, at least by UK standards. That in mind, Keir's dad was a toolmaker and a member of the industrial working class 2TK appears to despise. Maybe he hated his father which is why he's busy replacing him with Moslems.
If you can see a way the Left's import the Jihad savage vote into an island the size of a shoebox won't end in trouble, feel free to describe it.
Your Friend,
LSP
PS. OK, I own up, this shallow ephemera was simply an excuse to deploy "Poltroon", "Knave", "Mountebank" in one post. Apt, eh? OK, we missed "Buffoon" and "Chagos." Next time.
Hail St. Patrick, apostle of the heathen Irish, and that they were. You're familiar with his history, taken into captivity by Irish slavers raiding late Roman Britain, and how by the grace of God working on extraordinary asceticism he converted that pagan nation. We might pray for Patrick to clear out our present den of snakes, d'ye not think?
Almighty and everlasting God, who didst call thy servant Patrick to preach the Gospel: Raise up, we beseech thee, in this and every land evangelists and heralds of thy kingdom, that thy Church may proclaim the unsearchable riches of our Savior Jesus Christ; who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Ghost, ever one God, world without end. Amen.
Patrick, holy saint, please clear out the den of vipers who belovedly rule over us. Please end this tyranny of snakes.
Yours,
LSP
Panzerbattalion 14 has graduated some new recruits, well done those men. But what's with the little guy on the left? DEI must be driven from our institutions at every level. Maybe the photo looks better in black and white, have a look:
Just remember this, my dear friends, history may not repeat but it does rhyme. Likewise, everything the Left does produces the exact opposite of its intended effect. Remember that, it's like an axiom.
Your Pal,
LSP
His utterly corrupt hair
His devil grin
And everything rainbow grifting else. But no wonder Gavin's grinning, he's worth a nifty socialist $30 million, which ain't shabby, even for a Democrat. Massive piles of corrupt cash notwithstanding, do you remember when enterprising Gavin spoke to a group of African Americans the other day and told them, “I’m no better than you. You know, I’m a 960 SAT guy… you’ve never seen me read a speech because I cannot read a speech.”
Apparently Gavin's listeners are no more capable of reading than their Governor, so it's a very good thing neither have to show an ID to vote. They're too dumb, you see.
Cheers,
LSP
