Friday, March 1, 2024

Ride On?

 

Shadow LSP

Perhaps it's time to get back on the horse. I mean to say, there you are at the dear old Tolly in Calcutta and decide to go for a morning ride. So put on those burnished field boots, stroll over to the stables, swing into the saddle and... make a complete fool of yourself because you haven't actually ridden in a few years, four, to be precise.


The Tolly, I Think It's Time to Visit

All wrong. No, none of that. Instead you mount up and ride on into the dawn of a new Bengal day, moving from walk, to trot, to canter, to gallop, all seamlessly and in union with the horse itself. Man and beast at one. OK, so you have a warm up in the arena first to get to know the horse, but that's all good and your Syce suspends his inclination to scorn a new rider. Ride over, you fall back to the veranda for refreshments, the day is young.

Now you see where I'm going with this. If you want to go on a tour of the Clubs of the Old Raj, you'd better be able to ride. That in mind, the Lenten fast is moving me to call up the Senior Warden and ask, "I say, J, d'ye know someone who can sort me out for remedial lessons, English style?"


Me a Few Year's Back at J's Arena With The Youngest 

She'll say yes and we can go from there, maybe to a half lease, and even if the Tolly plan, magnificent in scope, doesn't work out it's still way better than a gym membership. So let's see how this equestrian plan pans out. In the meanwhile, here's J in the day:


Just Outstanding

What an athlete! Her husband was too, RIP, a world champ Bronc Rider and MC/Treasurer at Mission #2 to boot. But rodeo aside, I feel that it'd be good to get in the saddle again and actually learn the discipline. Or something like that.

Cheers,

LSP




Wednesday, February 28, 2024

Liturgical Dance Is So Very Very Awesome


Liturgical dance is so very, very awesome.




Maybe that's why it's inspired so many thousands to go to church. Then again, maybe it's the beautiful altar frontals, nylon vestments and felt applique banners that did the trick. Here's a moving video:




Beautiful, isn't it. In related news, Baron Jacob Rothscild's dead. He once posed for the camera along with America's celebrity art witch, Marina Abramovic. The painting's entitled, Satan Summoning His Legions.




Appropriate, don't you think?

Out demons out,

LSP

Tuesday, February 27, 2024

Filthy


Just look at this filthy little beast. Some people think, mistakenly, that they don't have to clean their lowly .22s. Then they wonder why the dam thing doesn't work.

 



Same goes for shotguns. Perhaps you've been on a shoot where someone's gun doesn't work because he couldn't be bothered to clean it. That in mind, I set to this morning.





Chop, chop, that SXS barrel isn't going to clean itself!





And the same applied to a couple of old pumps. Speaking of which, I like the Mossberg Ulti Mag, what a workhorse. Mind you, I might have to replace the extractors as they're getting on a bit. Not hard to do but a bit of pain.

So there you have it, all clean and ready to go unless a tragic boating accident gets in the way.

#2A,

LSP

Sunday, February 25, 2024

Can't Lose What You Never Had


 

All hail Lord Allman,

LSP

The Waterloo Room

 

No, not a POC

Imagine the scene, if you can. A candlelit room at 16 St. James Square on June the 21st in 1815. A small chamber orchestra plays quadrilles while the Prince Regent takes his place. But light-hearted gaity must have been brittle. 

Three days earlier, the Iron Duke, Wellington, had met the Upstart in the shock of Waterloo; the fate of Europe, not least England, hung in the balance. You can imagine the tension as London awaited the outcome.




It took three days for news of Wellington's triumph to reach London. Major Percy, an ADC, brought it via fast ship across the Channel along with two captured French Standards. He arrived in a carriage at St. James Square on the evening of the 21st. Brian Cathcart describes the moment:

"Tension mounted as the hours passed. On Wednesday evening the streets were again filled with expectant Londoners, while War Department officials manned their desks for a second night running. At the theatres and the society parties across the West End, one topic dominated. Meanwhile Major Percy was at last making swift progress in his post-chaise and four. Changing horses at Canterbury, Sittingbourne, Rochester and Dartford, he crested Shooters Hill in time to see London in the fading light of dusk. Then soon after 11pm his yellow carriage, with two captured French eagle standards thrusting from its windows, crossed Westminster Bridge into a delirious crowd.

"With this happy throng in tow, Percy made his way to Downing Street, where he was told that the Cabinet was dining at Lord Harrowby’s in Grosvenor Square. These unfortunate ministers had thus far passed an evening of all but unbearable tension. One account goes:




'They dined, they sat. No dispatch came. At length, when the night was far advanced, they broke up. Yet, delayed by a lingering hope that the expected messenger might appear, they stood awhile in a knot conversing on the pavement when suddenly was heard a faint and distant shout. It was the shout of victory! Hurrah! Escorted by a running and vociferous multitude, the Major drove up. He was taken into the house and the dispatch was opened.'

"Sixteen pages long and written in the most sober terms, the dispatch took time to digest, but eventually delighted ministers were able to announce the news to the crowd outside, who greeted it, according to the Morning Post, with ‘universal and ecstatic cheering’. Now Percy had to report to the Prince Regent, who that night was the dinner guest of a banking family, the Boehms. Carriages were summoned and most of the Cabinet followed Percy’s chaise through the streets, once again trailing a crowd behind. Dorothy Boehm, the hostess, describes their arrival at 16 St James’s Square:

'The first quadrille was in the act of forming and the Prince was walking up to the dais on which his seat was placed, when I saw every one without the slightest sense of decorum rushing to the windows, which had been left wide open because of the excessive sultriness of the weather. The music ceased and the dance was stopped; for we heard nothing but the vociferous shouts of an enormous mob, who had just entered the Square and were running by the side of a post-chaise and four, out of whose windows were hanging three nasty French eagles. In a second the door of the carriage was flung open and, without waiting for the steps to be let down, out sprang Henry Percy – such a dusty figure! – with a flag in each hand, pushing aside everyone who happened to be in his way, darting up stairs, into the ball-room, stepping hastily up to the Regent, dropping on one knee, laying the flags at his feet, and pronouncing the words ‘Victory, Sir! Victory!’'"


Here it is today

Victory, Sir! Victory! The room in which those words were said remains today, substantially unchanged, the Waterloo Room of the East India Club. I look forward to raising a toast to the Iron Duke in that very same room later this year.

Vincite,

LSP

Saturday, February 24, 2024

Is This Your Future - America?

 


America, is this your future?



Or maybe it's this:



Then again:




Cheers,

LSP

This And That

 


Yesterday was momentous. Yes, I drove into the Mega City connurb metrosprawl that is Fort Worth/Dallas, and was reminded yet again that spaghetti junctions didn't go outta style in the 1970s. What an entanglement of concrete, but it was worth it to get to the Clergy Day at St. Vincent's Cathedral in Bedford.

Where there was a presentation by a consultant figure on character and the voice techniques associated therein. There are, apparently, various character traits, each with their own way of speaking, and understanding this is beneficial to team leadership and self-realization to boot. So what are you, a Nurturer, Pioneer or Creative?


Oh look, you're really safe now at the cathedral. How idiotic

You'll be pleased to know I turned up late and resisted the heady urge to ask, "I think you've missed something out, Imperialist, Space Imperialist, what about that?" Lord Curzon on the sands of Mars aside, it was good to spend time with fellow clergy, what a good bunch of guys, easily the best clericus I've ever served with.

And it was good to be at the cathedral too, so many memories gathered up over the years and not bad for all that. Reverie over, I climbed into the rig and headed East on murder expressway 183 to Ma LSP's place in Dallas. She was in fine form, though recovering from oral surgery, and announced, "Your parcel's arrived."


Keepers Tweed is the best tweed imo

Good! And there it was, a Keepers Tweed coat, thanks, eBay. "I tell you, Mother, these things cost a solid 600 GBP new, if you can even find 'em." She thought about this, "It's awfully heavy, perhaps you can wear it for about two days here." I replied, quick as a flash, "It's the cloth, you see, Winter coat." Which it is, and tough as nails to boot.

On the way out to the bucolic boulevards of rural Texas she gave me a Japanese altar, I think that's what it is, which belonged to her Mother who collected such things. This now sits next to the front door, sanctified by icons, guns, rods and all of that.


Maybe 18th C? I'm guessing

So there you have it, what a good day, and today being the Feast of St. Matthias it's celebration all 'round.

Cheers,

LSP

Thursday, February 22, 2024

The Sun Never Sets On The British Empire - In Space

 


Intrigued by the genius of AI, I typed in "British Empire in space, Union Jack, stars," half expecting a scene from Grand Zimbabwe on the Moon, but no, out came a pretty creditable Imperial Fleet Station. But what about "Imperial British Space Navy in battle"?




Not bad! Inspirational, in fact, and here's another:




Join up, boys, and see the stars.




For King and Country. Speaking of which, here's Lord Curzon, on the sands of Mars:




And it's Tommy this and Tommy that:




Stand strong, soldier, for the Empire.




Ad Astra,

LSP

The Genius Of AI

 



You've always wondered what America's Founding Fathers looked like so you ask Google's Gemini AI to show you, and what do you get? Let's have a look.




And what about Vikings?



Let's generate some more. Tell us, AI, show us Hitler's feared Waffen SS:



But maybe that's too extreme, here's the Wehrmacht:


 

Wow, just look at all those diversity Nazis! Then there's the Pope:



Because, you know, Pope's are typically POCs who are often wymxn. 

Dear God,.. Please. Make. It Stop.

Well it seems that heartfelt prayer's been answered in part because Google's racist Gemini AI's currently down while the tech giant's DEI geniuses fix their race baiting algo. And have you noticed, gentle readers, how Satan always overplays his hand?

Cheers,

LSP

Wednesday, February 21, 2024

Let's Get This Back

 



Are you fed up with rubbish, banal liturgical music that signally fails to lift heart, mind and soul to God? I am, and recommend the Missa de Angelis by way of solution:





Word to the wise, deploying the above will brand you as a dangerous domestic extremist. Go on, just ask the FBI.

Sing on,

LSP

Tuesday, February 20, 2024

The Snake Is Back

 




That's right, the iconic blued Colt Python .357 Mag revolver is back. Discontinued in 1998, Colt saw the error of its ways and reintroduced an upgraded snake gun in 2020, featuring harder steel and a simplified action. Well done, but the new Python was stainless, all good, but somehow without the Delphic magic of the original. Now that magic's returned, here's the marketing:


The resurgence of a true legend – the Colt Python, now in a Carbon Steel Blued finish. The new Colt Python is a testament to timeless design and modern innovation. Initially offered in 4.25" and 6" barrel lengths in .357 Magnum, featuring a target adjustable rear sight and user-replaceable front sight, this legendary double-action revolver combines dependable and consistent performance with material innovations and upgraded actions. The black oxide finish, adorned with gold medallions, walnut grips, and signature vent rib barrel, pays homage to its iconic roots. The updated action ensures a consistent and reliable user experience. Responding to customer demand, the Blued Python returns, surpassing its predecessor in durability and effectiveness. The Colt Blued Python is a celebration of tradition, craftsmanship, and the relentless pursuit of perfection in every shot. Embrace the perfect blend of tradition and modern manufacturing in this reimagined classic.

 

And here's a short video:




Well done Colt for recreating a classic, I want one.

#2A,

LSP

Monday, February 19, 2024

A Shoot - In Texas

 



Do you even remember how to shoot, so-called LSP? Good question and I loaded up some guns in the rig and drove out to the range with Fr. C to find out. There we were, out in the field with a collection of guns, a few old pumps, a CZ SxS, a single shot 20, a no name Italian O/U and a collection of Rugers.




OK, all these guns, awesome, but could we shoot them? Sure enough we could, with C opening up handily with his Ruger .357 Mag revolver against steel plates. Bang. Watch those plates swing. Then it was onto shotguns.

C kicked off with his older Remington 870, which worked flawlessly, then I followed on with a Mossberg 835 Ultimag, smoke those skeet! Big fun and it was good to see the  old workhorse doing its thing, that gun's shot a lot of dove. Then my Remington 870, which worked well enough but has a rough cycle, it's newer than C's and not as good.




Next up, my CZ .20 SxS and C's 20 single shot 20, I think it's Turkish. The single worked just fine in C's capable hands and knocked our biodegradable enemy outta the sky every time. The CZ was great too, though you have to remember to sight right down the barrel, if you see the rib you'll miss.

Great result and as always, remember kids, it's important to actually aim your shotgun, firing in general direction, whilst enjoyable, tends not to hit the target. There is, perhaps, a moral in that. A box of White Flyer down, we finished off with Rugers, a .22 American, a Mk. IV 22/45 and a .357 Mag revolver.




The latter two belonged to C and I'm jealous, I want those pistols, even though I didn't shoot the Mark IV particularly well. Obviously need one to get more practice in. And it was all plinking enjoyment from thereon in, nice one.




So there you have it. Yes, both of us remembered how to shoot and shot pretty well, see those skeet smoke and explode like Focke Wulfs over the Oder. Great result, what a boost to get out and shoot, just you, the guns and the country of the great state of Texas. It clears the head, I tell you.

#2A,

LSP