Friday, December 6, 2019

Age Of Aquarius

So, how do you celebrate the Feast of St. Nicholas of Myra? Simple, load up the rig with a couple of light rods and head out to the mighty Brazos.

Boom. Pretty much every cast a fish, it was like... like the Age of Aquarius. No kidding, I lost count.

Mostly perch but also drum, a couple of cats and curiously, baby striper. Ferocious little fish, all of them, but especially the striper. Big fun to catch when they're big and not bad when they're small. And here's the thing.

My friend Pedro was fishing silver spinners, slabs, the live perch which I gave him, and caught exactly nothing. He was going after big fish and failed. 

By contrast, I was pulling the aquarian adversary out of the water every few minutes or so on a worm, small hook, two split-shot rig on a light rod. Big success, "You're rippin' 'em up, man!"

Moral? No libs, fish smart,


Thursday, December 5, 2019

Rolling To Civil War?

"Gotta say, LSP, mebbe it's lookin' like Civil War," said a rancher I was riding with back in the days of the Great Rhetor, Barack Stilted Delivery Hussein Obama. He had a point, way back then. Fast forward to today.

Two fundamentally opposed points of view are facing off in America. The one, a rainbow hued neo-pagan expression of the radical liberal project, with total personal autonomy as its end goal, see transsexualism. And the other, God, Guns, Church and Country Life in Texas, and beyond. 

The radicals, rightly, see abortion and getting a sex-change as a sacramental, an outward sign of something inward and spiritual. In their case, the promethean or luciferian desire to create themselves in their own image. To be, as the Good Book puts it, "as Gods."

Red State America, however imperfectly, says no. You're not a God and guess what, if you're a man you can't use the woman's restroom. And by the way, a country has borders or it's not a country and don't kill your babies, that's sick and evil. 

Now, granted all of the above and more, how can these two states of mind, heart and soul exist in peace? Impossible and we're seeing the clash right now in Congress. But picture this.

45 will doubtless survive the Democrat attack on him and the Constitution, but will nonetheless leave office in 2024. What then. Who knows, perhaps there'll be a Trump Dynasty and Ivanka will become the first woman president, yes please.

Well Done, Aberystwyth

Or the globalist elite deep state will snap right back and resume Federal control. If that happens, expect resistance, real resistance, and here's the thing. If Washington DC bans your guns or tells your kid's school to set up trans bathrooms and Texas says no, what are they going to do, send in the troops?

I tell you this, the Army won't fire, and states will ignore federal laws they don't like, it's happening already. The result? The balkanisatoin of America and hopefully an unbloody civil war. But hey, perhaps we'll all come together under Ivanka.

In the meanwhile, is anyone taking the impeachment farce seriously?


Wednesday, December 4, 2019

Olympia Trans Awesome

Do you remember a time when the Left was supposedly about helping the "working man"? You know, people in low paying jobs. Not any more; move over, proles, it's tranny time. Freedom or what. And bear in mind these people are protesting a trans event held by the city.

Scheming antics of the genderless, transnational globalist elite, risible identity politics, Illuminati Hivemind aside, I'm most in favor of The Royal Majesty,  being a Monarchist. But perhaps you have a different preference?

Thanks for the tip, GWB.

Over the rainbow,


Tuesday, December 3, 2019

Hunter Thompson What A Man

Some of you may have heard of Hunter Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Hell's Angels, and all the rest. He was famous as the King of Gonzo journalism, and though he shot himself in 2005 he lives on in myth and legend, "We can't stop here, this is bat country!" Uh huh, quite, and Hell's Angels is great too, but consider this, from American Digest:

Warren (Hinckle, Scanlan's) liked to drink and spend other people’s money on himself and writers. Naturally, such a honey pot was going to attract Hunter Thompson.
Thompson liked to drink, snort coke, and spend other people’s money on articles he might or might not write. Sometimes the small staff working with me and the larger staff working the con with Warren at Scanlan’s would decide to drink together. We liked to drink at our bar of choice up at the end of the alley, Andre’s.
And so one night, when Hunter was in town, we all went up to Andre’s for a non-stop night of drinking.
Andre was an elegant French-Canadian who ran an elegant bar and restaurant. He was old-school and could mix any drink anyone could name and it was always perfect. He was polished, polite, and a good listener. But he was a pro and usually knew when you’d had enough. Then he politely asked you to leave. If you ignored him, he had a very large mallet with a three-foot handle behind the bar and you didn’t ignore that.
So there we were, eight or ten of us I think, hanging around and drinking with “Hunter S. Thompson, man!” And, as they would, Warren and Hunter got into a drinking contest — sort of like watching a match between Ali and Frazier in their prime.
It went on and on long past the point where I could or would keep up. It was getting late and Andre announced to the assembled cross-eyed drunks, that he was giving us our last round. The regulars took him at his word, but Hunter had to push the envelope. Except with Andre there was no envelope. Just a polite, “Non.”
The next thing I know there’s a gun in Hunter’s hand and three rounds into the ceiling of the bar. (Did I mention that there were apartments where people were sleeping above the bar?)
Then I think there was a blur of Andre, in suit and tie, coming over the bar with the mallet. Then more blurs and everybody is out on the street dragging a semi-conscious Hunter back down the alley mumbling something about getting his gun back. After that I don’t remember much and, frankly, haven’t thought all that much about Thompson in the nearly 50 years that have intervened.
Later Hunter left this Earth  in the same way that he lived — gun-crazy, thoughtless, self-obsessed and selfish to the last second. A gunshot suicide at home, leaving his wife and son to discover and deal with his ruined corpse and clean up the room.
What a man.

Whoa, what a damning obit, and Vanderleun tells a good story, shooting right in the X-Ring of a crew of boozy hacks. But consider this. HST managed to fire off a few rounds and guess what, no one called the police, it was handled the right way, with a mallet, by old school Andre.

Such was, apparently, the '70s and we've clearly lost a lot, the flawed gonzo genius of Hunter Thompson and perhaps more to the point, the greatness of Andre. We're a smaller world for that.

Your Old Pal,


Schiff Hits The Fan

If you found this infovideo helpful you might enjoy If You Give A Donkey A Cookie.



Monday, December 2, 2019

AR Mods

...did you ever think you'd be using the words “narwhal tusk” in regular conversation?  Or thinking of the merits of a narwhal tusk for everyday carry?  Or comparing a narwhal tusk to an AR-15 for ease of concealment?

Here at the Compound we agree, who would have thought that NARWHAL TUSKS would become a tried and true must-have in the anti-Jihad toolbox?

They fit beneath the admirably modular AR15 too, like a grenade launcher or a bayonet, but a lot longer. Useful, right?

Aloha Snackbar,


Melania Mondays!

Melania Mondays are back and they're back in force, with America's popular and glamorous First Lady decorating the White House for Christmas.

Melania Loves Christmas

Elegant as ever, Melania put finishing touches on the Christmas decorations, which she entitled "Spirit of America" on social media:

The Spirit of America is shining in the @WhiteHouse! I am delighted to share this beautiful exhibit of patriotism for all to see, and excited for everyone to experience the beauty of the #Christmas season!

 Obama's Hated Mao Balls

Melania's Spirit of America stands out in stunning contrast to the Obama's turgid, tasteless, traitorous and ugly Christmas tree ornaments, which mocked America and Christmas with images of the infamous mass killer Communist, Mao Tse Tung.

Melania's Beautiful, Patriotic Ornaments

As one noted commentator put it, "Patriotism and Christ have returned to the White House." And not before time.

Best First Lady Ever

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

MAGA 2020,


Sunday, December 1, 2019


No sooner Thanksgiving than Advent follows, the great almost forgotten season of the liturgical year. Conversation in the sacristy before the second Mass went like this.

"Good morning gentlemen, how was Thanksgiving?" One server looked me grimly in the eye, "About two thirds."
"Two thirds? That's no use, what happened?"
"Daughter-in-Law's dog bit me."
"You shoot the dog?"
"No, but I said I would shoot the dog if it did it again."
Another server chimed in, "Maybe you should've bit the dog right back." And at that point it seemed right to pray. Here's the governing Collect of the season:

ALMIGHTY God, give us grace that we may cast away the works of darkness, and put upon us the armour of light, now in the time of this mortal life, in which thy Son Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility; that in the last day, when he shall come again in his glorious majesty to judge both the quick and the dead, we may rise to the life immortal, through him who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Ghost, now and ever. Amen.

God bless,


Saturday, November 30, 2019

A Mild London Bridge Response

When will the UK and the rest of Western Europe wake up to Moslem threat their ruling elites have imported into their countries for votes and cheap labor? Maybe some people have woken up and aren't prepared to sit down, roll over, and take it.

Who knows, maybe they'll take the fight to the enemy, like a Massive Attack. Then, oh my, watch the Hackney lesbian theater collective duck and cover. Point being, there's a scrap coming.

In the meanwhile the Met, London's police force, go by a rainbow twitter handle cuz, you know, Jihadis run from a rainbow. 



Take Out The Terr With A Narwhal Tusk And Brexit

Some things are all too predictable, others aren't. For example, if you're Cambridge University and you invite an early release,  tagged convict, bomb plot Moslem terrorist to your criminal rehab seminar, don't be surprised if he goes full Jihad and starts killing people on London Bridge. So predictable.


That a Polish cook will react to the cultural enrichment by pulling a 5' Narwhal tusk off the wall and go after the frenzied knife-wielding savage is less obvious. Not the sort of outcome you'd, say, wager the fighting monkey on. And this brings us to Brexit.


If and when the UK's ruling elite see fit to deliver Brexit and respect the votes of over 17 million people, to say nothing of national sovereignty, should Poles get an exemption? 

Judging from London Bridge, I'd argue for a bipartite pact between the Sceptered Isle and the descendants of Jan Sobieski.

Well done, Luckasz.

Aloha Snackbar,


Friday, November 29, 2019

Blue Friday

The Friday after Thanksgiving's famous for scenes of crazed shoppers fighting over all the made in China debris of modern life. Rather than go out in the fray we decided to emulate the feeding frenzy at home. How?

Enter one stuffy squeaking dog toy, and a voracious Heeler. Blue Friday fell onto that squeak cow like a mall full of shoppers on a cut price flatscreen.

The toy didn't have a chance. Blue Consumer was on it. Ears? Rip 'em off. Head? Tear the stuffing out of it. Body? Disembowel, and scatter the contents to the floor, growling and grunting like a Best Buy punter in search of a cheap deal.

Then, almost as fast as you can say mindless mall brawl nonsense, the fight was over and Blue Khan stood, victorious, on the battlefield. Did he expect a treat for his Blue Friday performance? Yes, of course.

Hope you all had a great Thanksgiving and manage to stay out of the store scrum today.