Poetry Mondays - Gods of the Copybook Headings

 

we threw this away

Inspired by one of the few people who read this shallow and frivolous mind-blog, I present Kipling's Gods of the Copybook Headings as an opening salvo in a new and populist series, Poetry Mondays. Here it is, forgive small font:

As I pass through my incarnations in every age and race,

I make my proper prostrations to the Gods of the Market Place.

Peering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall,

And the Gods of the Copybook Headings, I notice, outlast them all.

We were living in trees when they met us. They showed us each in turn

That Water would certainly wet us, as Fire would certainly burn:

But we found them lacking in Uplift, Vision and Breadth of Mind,

So we left them to teach the Gorillas while we followed the March of Mankind.

We moved as the Spirit listed. They never altered their pace,

Being neither cloud nor wind-borne like the Gods of the Market Place,

But they always caught up with our progress, and presently word would come

That a tribe had been wiped off its icefield, or the lights had gone out in Rome.

With the Hopes that our World is built on they were utterly out of touch,

They denied that the Moon was Stilton; they denied she was even Dutch;

They denied that Wishes were Horses; they denied that a Pig had Wings;

So we worshipped the Gods of the Market Who promised these beautiful things.

When the Cambrian measures were forming, They promised perpetual peace.

They swore, if we gave them our weapons, that the wars of the tribes would cease.

But when we disarmed They sold us and delivered us bound to our foe,

And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "Stick to the Devil you know."

On the first Feminian Sandstones we were promised the Fuller Life

(Which started by loving our neighbour and ended by loving his wife)

Till our women had no more children and the men lost reason and faith,

And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "The Wages of Sin is Death."

In the Carboniferous Epoch we were promised abundance for all,

By robbing selected Peter to pay for collective Paul;

But, though we had plenty of money, there was nothing our money could buy,

And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "If you don't work you die."

Then the Gods of the Market tumbled, and their smooth-tongued wizards withdrew,

And the hearts of the meanest were humbled and began to believe it was true

That All is not Gold that Glitters, and Two and Two make Four–

And the Gods of the Copybook Headings limped up to explain it once more.

As it will be in the future, it was at the birth of Man

There are only four things certain since Social Progress began.

That the Dog returns to his Vomit and the Sow returns to her Mire,

And the burnt Fool's bandaged finger goes wabbling back to the Fire;

And that after this is accomplished, and the brave new world begins

When all men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his sins,

As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will burn,

The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter return!

Chesterton, whom I greatly admire, scorned Kipling, but Chesterton, for all his greatness wasn't always right. That said, I'd argue Kipling was right in the X-Ring with this. Make of it what you will.

Ad Solem,

LSP

Best Movie?

Hey now, listen up all ye heathen, what's the best movie? Here at the Compound the vote's unanimous. Best SciFi, Bladerunner. Easy. 

Best Ancient Rome, Gladiator. Again easy. Hey, feel free to disagree, it's not like there's some kind of "rule," and OK, maybe movies are somehow opaque to you, fair play. 

Whatever the case, cheers and Go. To. Church and worship God as opposed to some dam idol.

Your Buddy,

LSP

Doom On My Friends - Miracle Needed

 

The best thing about Garden Europa and its rainbow soft power is how solvent it is. Just kidding, EU debt sits at over 16TN €, because of course it does, all those votes aren't going to pay themselves for goodness sake. But what happens when you run outta cash to pay the votes? 

The votes get angry, see France, which sits on the top of the EU's debt pile. Let's not get down into the weeds but, as an old friend once said, "The problem with debt is that someone, eventually, wants to be paid back.

How, and with what? No one seems to know, not least the Europeans who don't produce anything to speak of and aren't even reproducing themselves. Demographic suicide, anyone? I tell you, it's a weird and horrible thing to watch a civilization kill itself. But what am I saying.

Here in the US we're several orders of magnitude greater in debt, and go figure, every dollar's an IOU at interest to the privately owned Fed. Who knows, maybe we'll inflate our way out the coming crisis. In the meanwhile, we're ignoring it on the good old precept that maybe, if we shut our eyes, the problem will cease to exist.

How smart. Can't have that, raysisst

Well that's cheery, isn't it, but there is this. Here in the States 100s of thousands of Islamo-Marxist votes aren't marching in our streets and trying to burn what's left of Western Civ down. Go on, try it, Commies, and see how far you get before we revert to ammo gold standard. That in mind, and message to market: 

If you're a Christian, not least a catholic, and the two are synonymous, Go. To. Mass. Or whatever, worship God with your praise band and all of that. Seriously, if we get this essential spiritual component right everything else will fall into place, not least miraculously. And let's call the shot as seen, we need a miracle right about now.

Send it,

LSP

Sea Side

my brother in Aber

Not a lot of you know this, but the Compound's faced by a small house which used to be a sewing shop and's now an AirBnb. What happens is this. AirBnb punters fly in and take up residence for a week or a month or two. Who are these people? Typically tradesmen, flown in by big money to work on bigger money projects, like data centers. And guess what, we've got plenty of that about, witness last night. 

There we were, just taking it easy on the Front porch, country style, when a couple of carpenters walked over to join in the coniviv. Before you could say "clean that Glock," there we were, talking away. Word to the wise, these industrial level carpenters hate data centers and see them as a potential infringement on our civil liberty. They were also quiet, well considered, respectful young men.

I was most impressed and led them on a tour of Mission #1, which they loved as "historic." Good boys. Point of this shallow post? Don't doom out, there are many, many good people amongst us, not least in the Trades. University? Maybe a little bit more complex.

"What is lost is never gained again." Ahem, really? Let's have India back, for a start.

Cheers,

LSP

Stand Well Clear

 

Apart from having a somewhat exotic aristocratic background and a perhaps opaque war record, Christopher Lee was no fool. Take his advice and stand well clear.

Sir Christopher Lee also warned people not to dabble in Satanism or the occult, saying: "Never, never, never. You will not only lose your mind, you will also lose your soul." https://t.co/mUozq1w3QR

— Trad West (@trad_west_) December 23, 2025

 

You have been warned,

LSP 

The Decline Is Optional

 

Look, no one had to import millions of people from the third world into the West, it wasn't some kind of necessity, and yet they've made it so. Who are these mysterious "they"? On the one hand, the rentier class and big equity congloms like Blackrock, allied with every business owner who looks forward to cheap labor. On the other, Leftists X in search of votes.

A perfect storm and net result? Your little shoe box style island, aka Great Britain, gets flooded with savages who hate you. But everything's just fine until you can't afford to pay their welfare, then everything gets messy. And that's just it, until you can't afford to pay their dole. Think about it, what happens then, once the taxpayer funded cash spigot runs dry.

All kinds of mayhem, and what we've seen in France is the precursor. Here in the States? We elected a government to at least nominally cut out fraud and secure the border, to stop the flow of illegal votes into the country and with it, to promote a living wage and hopefully affordable rents. What. Horrible. Fascism.

The remarkable thing is that we've got this far, like, a closed southern border, what? Yeah, it happened, and this brings me to the point. The great replacement, managed decline of the West, the craven hand-over of a once imperial, apex society to barely literate freeloaders didn't happen by accident. 

No, it was and is deliberate. None of this had to happen. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to reverse this satanic thing. Here at the Compound we're playing our part, and by the way, it's Trafalgar Day. A glorious Victory.

Ad Astra,

LSP

Marking Time

 

Here's the thing. You may have noticed Paris went up in flames last weekend; so very terrible and awful. How long d'ye think the State would've taken to knock that protest down if they'd decided to engage? In about 10 minutes, but they didn't. What does this suggest? Not least, the power you're paying taxes to for your protection ain't acting in your interest. In fact, it's operating against that. So what do you do? Climb aboard the chopper.

Point being, our decline is optional,

LSP

Karma Strikes Wood Cricket

 

"Karma's a bitch my little wood cricket," writes Gad Saad as a lib white woman cries out in shock and disbelief as the ferals she's supported in Paris loot her boutique. Suicidal empathy? That's part of it, living on fantasy leftist island is another. Imagine zhir bewilderment when the precious savages she loved, supported and voted for smashed through her fancy little shop.

Some believe that after thirty or so years of a hollowed out culture, of a country which has been taught to despise its roots, aesthetic and religion is little better than a vacuum, and nature abhors a vacuum. Witness the noxious gas that's now filling the public square of secular France. What can we say? You voted for it, dhimwits.

In related news, some UK general's telling the people to prepare for war and sacrifice. Is General Roly, real name, preparing the UK's gen pop for an external or internal war? The former's unlikely because the UK couldn't fight a war overseas if it tried, they don't have an army, navy or air force, you see. But they do have maybe just enough troops, just to quell civil... disturbance. And that, my dear friends, ain't a given.

I tell you kids, it's getting messy,

LSP

All Rhodesians?

 

You either get it or you don't. For those that do, gear up and learn to ride.

Cheers,

LSP

France is Revolting

 

Back in ye jolly olde Englande you'd read about revolting France and your average Clubland punter would typically write it off as "they're always at it." True, but as of today things seem a little more serious, with parts of Paris, Marseille, Lyons and elsewhere going up in flames, not least Limoges' beautiful town hall. Islamo-Marxists torched that and far more besides.

Where's the French government in all of this? Sub-Napoleon Globalist Macron's evidently hiding in the basement of the Élysée Palace, surrounded by a wall of law enforcement as his city's looted and burns. So much for garden Europa and that wicked lie, diversity's our strength. No, you liars, it's not, witness Paris tonight. Reminiscent of Baltimore a few years back, remember that?, but so much worse because the fall's so much greater. Ah, but there you have it.

The revolutionary nihilists and their meteorite worshipping friends hate what's left of Western civilization and want to destroy it, to burn it all down. Then, from the ashes, once the unjust oppression of our rulers is cast down, a truly free society will rise up, phoenixlike from the rubble. Or something like that, and Euro Anarcho-Marxists might want to look to Iran as a model of cooperation between Islam and the Left. Hint, it doesn't end well for the latter, pan to rainbows being thrown off buildings and all of that.

Let's see how this current revolt against the execrable Macronist regime pans out. Some think it's an excuse for martial law, the cancellation of next year's elections and with it Marine Le Pen. Possible, I wouldn't put anything beyond those sociopath, godless sharks, but even if the secular French power's playing that kind of chess, which I maybe kinda doubt, the fact remains the same. 

Viz. Import the third world, get the third world, and when the third world was lured into your country with the promise of free cash and that cash dries up, well then, expect the savages to burn it all down. After all, it's not as though the imported votes owe any loyalty or patriotism to their host country, quite the reverse when Moslem.

My prediction, for what little it's worth. Things are gonna get messy in beautiful, soft power, velvet glove, rainbow utopia Europe, and maybe the UK too. Because, dear readers, all two of you, imported votes won't act kindly when the cash spigot's turned off.  But what do I know, just a humble LSP in a town which honors the Confederate fallen.

Arma Virumque,

LSP

A Plane Back To Texas

 

Maybe I'm wrong, but it seems to me as though economy or "cattle class" air travel's gotten worse. Cramped, uncomfortable, and topped off with inedible food which you're supposed to eat with reconstituted wooden approximations to knife, fork and spoon (KFS). Maybe this is because about half of the plane is devoted to higher paying customers, Preferred Economy, Premium, Business and First, leaving little room for miserable, cheapskate cattle.

"Good business model," I thought, squeezed into a narrow chair, "Charge a premium for something everyone used to take for granted, like real cutlery and edible food, and let those who can't afford it sit at the back of the plane." A parable, if you like, for the middle class, which used to be able to afford a house in, say, London or Edinburgh, and now can't. Still, the flight wasn't bad and I passed the time reading Ursula Le Guin's excellent early sci-fi.

Before you can say City of Illusions, the plane lurched and settled onto the tarmac at DFW and off we went to meet our fate at customs. and baggage reclaim. All easy and quick, thanks to facial recognition tech which will not and cannot ever be used against us. And then onto the road outside Terminal D, departures.

What a contrast to Heathrow. All about the car, and there seemed a vitality or life to the thing, prosperity even, all kinds of movement, which made the UK airport experience seem somehow smaller, constricted and staid. In fairness, LHR has direct rail downtown and DFW doesn't, so I caught a fast cab run by a Nigerian who played Evangelical sermons throughout the trip on "forgiveness," very important. 

Take note, forgiveness, if we would be forgiven, is key. Theological imperatives aside, I arrived at Dallas HQ in good time and that was that, holiday excursion to the UK at an end. And what had this recce patrol discovered?

That London's Zone 1 isn't a Commie Caliphate, and neither were Ludlow, Edinburgh and Cheltenham, to say nothing of Clubland. Take heart, punters, that part of the UK's far more homogenous than DEI America. That said, soft Left globalism seemed to be the default position of the educated class, fed by its appalling BBC and execrable Guardian et al. A default which may be showing signs of cracking, thanks  to the country's effectively open dinghy border. Even left-centrist people are saying enough is enough.

As they should. Why should tiny, shoebox size England provide welfare for all the world? It can't and ultimately won't. Just you watch the gleeful reaction of all those imported votes when the cash spigot's turned off, don't say messy. 

Be that as it may, there were far fewer Rainbow, Climate Hoax, Trans billboards on display than in the last few years. Perhaps the mood of the Caliphate is shifting, and go figure, the UK tends to mirror US trends; does this mean a patriot shift incoming? I'd like to hope so, and in the meanwhile, it's great to be back in the Texas Free State.

More anon,

LSP

Here Endeth The Exeat

Cheltenham was a lot of fun but ghostly with it. You know what it's like, you walk the streets of a town you used to know well and it's familiar, you recognize it, but memories crowd around like shades seen through the corner of an eye or an overlay, making the place weirdly unfamiliar, or something like that. Whatever, a few nights in 'Nam over it was time to ride the rails back to London.

It's not hard, just get on a train and go, then set up at the conveniently central and priced Tavistock hotel; I like that place, it's cheap and walking distance to everywhere. From there, hang out at the Lamb by Covent Garden. The pub used to be known as the "bucket of blood," thanks to bare knuckle fights, and sits next to an alley where assassins tried to kill Dryden but failed. Clearly a rough place back in the late seventeenth century.

Today it's a popular pub, and its cobbled courtyard is pretty much full. I like it a lot and it's a convenient staging post for drinks and dinner at the NatLib, not so far away on the Embankment. Regardless, the last week of London was good in a Lamb, Reform, NatLib kind of way and then it was time, all too soon, to return to Texas. So wheel your suitcase out of the Tav, stop for a refreshingly foamy coffee drink outside Russell Square tube and head underground to Heathrow.

Ten hours later you're in Texas, DFW, and everything's different. How so? Big question, and I'll not attempt an answer here and now but there is this, you can carry a pistol in Texas and you can't in the UK. Free men, you see, can defend themselves, slaves cannot. And here endeth the exeat.

More anon,

LSP