Tuesday, May 31, 2016

The Mighty Brazos Crests at 54 Feet

The Brazos river crested today at a record breaking 54 feet, leaving homes in the Houston area flooded and whole neighborhoods surrounded by a swirling dystopia of snakes and suchlike waterborne trash. 

Typical Houston Street Scene

What caused this aquatic catastrophe? Failure to pay a carbon tax to our globalist elite overlords; refusal to ride the rainbow and turn the state's schools into a rainbow-riding, trans free for all? Or maybe divine displeasure at Houston's Pink Stasi Mayor?

A Proper Little Fighter

I drove to the Brazos to find out. It was in full flood and I cast off into the torrent via the rain. Three Hybrids and one small Widemouth later, I still wasn't any closer to winning the War on Weather but I was holding my own against the fish.

Shoot The Monkey

In related news, a monkey threatened to kill a child at a zoo and was shot. Some people are calling this "murder." Those people are clearly insane.

Your Friend,


Isle of Man TT With The Morecambe Missile

Some people ride unicorns over the rainbow, others, like the Morecambe Missile, John McGuinness, ride bikes and they ride them fast on what's possibly the most dangerous race of its kind in the world, the Isle of Man TT.

That's going on right now:

Held over a 37.75 mile course of closed public roads on the sleepy island tax haven in the (Irish) sea between Britain and Ireland, it is considered one of the most authentically original, spectacular and most dangerous sporting events in the World with average lap speeds approaching 133 miles per hour through the 380 bends and 1500 foot climb and fall the road makes on the Island’s mountainous topography. Riders in the races on ‘the Island’ are considered specialists in the art of ‘real road racing’, a sport restricted to small parts of Europe in these very safety conscious times, and are willing to risk everything (literally) to be crowned ‘King of the Mountain’. They certainly don’t do it for the money, as there is very little...

One reader described it neatly, "This sport's not for wussies." I'd be inclined to agree and note McGuinness' humility in the video. That's a virtue.

Say a prayer for the riders, they don't always make it.

God bless,


Monday, May 30, 2016

Memorial Day

From the first Memorial Day, then called Decoration Day, address in 1868:

I love to believe that no heroic sacrifice is ever lost; that the characters of men are molded and inspired by what their fathers have done; that treasured up in American souls are all the unconscious influences of the great deeds of the Anglo-Saxon race, from Agincourt to Bunker Hill. It was such an influence that led a young Greek, two thousand years ago, when musing on the battle of Marathon, to exclaim, “the trophies of Miltiades will not let me sleep!” Could these men be silent in 1861; these, whose ancestors had felt the inspiration of battle on every field where civilization had fought in the last thousand years? Read their answer in this green turf. Each for himself gathered up the cherished purposes of life—its aims and ambitions, its dearest affections—and flung all, with life itself, into the scale of battle.
And now consider this silent assembly of the dead. What does it represent? Nay, rather, what does it not represent? It is an epitome of the war.

You can read the whole thing here. Remember those who gave their lives. May they rest in peace and rise in glory.

God bless,


Sunday, May 29, 2016


There we were , somewhere in Texas, fishing for Bass, and they weren't biting, until they did. Clamp! Vise-like jaws snapped shut on an alluring dark plastic worm and in came a fish, an apocalyptic leviathan of a Bass.

GWB soon caught up with some swift action, and after an hour at the lake we were neck and neck at 3 fish each. By then the sun was setting, the lake was still as glass and it just seemed right to try out the Tiny Torpedo topwater method.

A small strike, almost more of a gulp, later and kaboom! A big fish was on, leaping and fighting, playing out the drag as it stormed and thrashed out of the water. Excitement wasn't in it, this was a serious fish.

As if on cue, lightning flashed through the thunderheads, right there, at the Basschaton.

Tight Lines,


Saturday, May 28, 2016

Hippies Are Traitors And Thieves

A famous clergyman once said, "When I was in seminary, there were a lot of people there who were simply evading the draft, so they didn't have to fight in the Vietnam war." I replied, "Traitors." And that's the way it is with hippies.

You see them hanging out in a park, maybe strumming a  guitar or eating some yummy fried tofu, and you think, "Hunh, look at that freakish looking deadbeat." Unpleasant, but so what, harmless. I mean to say, what's the worst they can do, hassle you to buy some beads? Yeah. Think again.

The same crew of goof-off clowns that wouldn't fight the commies who ruthlessly killed millions of people, eclipsing the abhorrent Nazis, are now living high on the hog of local and state government. They were traitors to western civilization then, back in the daze, and they're traitors still.

And oh, lest we forget. Remember that hippy who ripped off your stuff? Well, they're still at it, only this time they've ripped off entire states, like California, or Austin. And a couple of them want to steal the entire country.

Don't be fooled when they come at you panhandling, putting out sob stories about how unfortunate they are. All they're after is your cash and they'll take it by force if you let them, all in the name of their compassionate trans workers utopia.

The Choom Gang

Still, with all of the above in mind, and it's a lot, I still hope Bernie Sanders beats the sachs out of Hillary.

Never trust a hippy,


Archbishop of Canterbury in Detroit Phone Heist?

Detroit police have released photos of a larceny suspect from the crime plagued city’s west side, to help investigators find the man wanted in connection with the incident.

A camera showed the suspect, wearing a stonewashed buttoned shirt, black T-shirt, dark shorts and white gym-shoes, inside the Marathon filling station in the 16300 block of Fenkell  at about 7 p.m. May 6. He then proceeded to grab a woman's cell phone and race from the store into a parked maroon vehicle, shouting, "Consequences!"

Authorities described him as a middle-aged Caucasian male, 5-foot-10, 160 pounds, with a gray complexion, and a startling resemblance to the Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby.

Anyone who has any information is asked to call the Detroit Police Eighth Precinct Investigative Unit at (313) 596-5840 or Crime Stoppers of Michigan at 1-800-SPEAK-UP.

Justin Welby was last seen attempting to pawn church regalia on the Motor City's notorious 8 Mile Road.


Friday, May 27, 2016

Crazy Mental Insane Fishing

There I was at Lake Whitney, casting away without a whole lot of success, and my luck was mirrored by the multi-ethnic band of anglers that make up modern America's fishing community. Good people, no doubt about it, but no one was catching any fish.

Then Shad started schooling in the channel, about 30 yards off of the bank. You could see them flicking out of the water and swirling in ever increasing numbers. I waded out along a submerged ledge to get in the action and send my lure into the Shad in the hope of picking up feeding Bass. 

Random Widemouth

Not much was happening, just more and more of the jolly little Shad messing about in the water. Then it happened. A surging, leaping, exploding wall of Bass broke the water about 30 feet off to the left, blitzing the Shad.

Staring in wonderment at the Bassnado, I cast into the thickest part of the surge and down went the lure. No twitching, no scientific retrieve, just boom. Fish on. Two fish were on in fact, one on each treble, and that became apparent as I reeled them in to the ledge. I held them up for my wading wary Latino pals to see, "Ha! Topwater!" they thought that was pretty cool, "You're on them, man."

No sooner were the Hybrids back in the water to live to fight another day, than another wave of marauding Bass exploded up. Cast! And another catch. This went on for about 30 minutes, as Bass tsunami after tsunami burst on the merry little band of Shad. 

I tell you, it was crazy, mental, insane, fast fishing. Watching the ferocity of the Bass erupting out of the water was excitement enough. Catching them only added.

Then the sun was setting and it was over; time to head back to the compound.

God bless,


Thursday, May 26, 2016

Hillary, You Are A Liar


Judge Napolitano on Shillary's honesty issue, via ZeroHedge:

"Today is a big deal for a couple of reasons. First, it directly refutes a statement she has made dozens of times, 'it was allowed', we now know that it was not allowed. She never even asked."
"She signed a two page statement under oath on her first day on the job which was given after she had a two hour tutorial by two FBI agents telling her about the proper care and legal obligations for state secrets. In that oath she swore that she had the obligation to know how to care for state secrets and to recognize them."
"Here is what's new in the report today. Her server in her house went down a couple of times, and when it went down the blackberry wouldn't work. The state department IT people said 'here use a state department blackberry', and she said through her assistant Huma Abedin 'no because we are concerned with the Freedom of Information Act', so she went dark and she had documents verbally read to her rather than transmitted to her through the state department email system."

Yeah, right on, Hillary. Concerned about the  FOIA, and why would that be? But whatever, the secret private ruling elite server was an open book anyway.

Send her to jail.


Texas Tranquility

It was peaceful on the lake after Mass but it was also exciting, because the Bass were jumping. Excitingly tranquil, perhaps.

One of the wide-mouthed mariners surged onto my lure, a Tiny Torpedo, and I have to say, well done, Heddon, for making something that actually catches fish. So, what do you do? Set back for an aggressive hookset? 

No, you do not. You follow Fishing Science and allow the fish to take the lure down into the depths as you apply steady pressure. The action of the fish and the twin trebles do the rest. Then you enjoy the fight, and this one was full of it.

Plenty of action and no shortage of the sound every fisherman loves, drag ratcheting out as a fish runs with your hook. But all too soon this one was up on the flooded ledge I was fishing from and I brought him, or was it a she, maybe a zhir?, up to the bank.

A couple of lakeside visitors were impressed by this and took some photos. They were from Fort Worth, looking to get out of the Metrosprawl and into some Texas tranquility. And who can blame them, I hope they found it.

Here's the deal. Take some time out of your busy schedule and fish. It won't do you any harm and might do you a lot of good, unless you hook yourself in the eye, or fall out of your $70k Bass Boat onto an overdraft and break your neck. 

Fish Rising,


Patriarch Kirill v. Godless Elites

The Faith is alive and well in Russia, where the Orthodox Church has been building 1000 churches a year, every year, for the last decade or more. Part of this is because of Russian Orthodoxy's leader, Patriarch Kirill.

In the West, on the other hand, a different group is alive and well. That would be the God-hating descendants of the SovCom revolutionaries, who crucified monks, nuns and priests outside their churches and monasteries in 1917 and beyond. If they could, their modern friends would ban Christianity altogether; as it is, they're doing their best to make its expression illegal in the public square.

Kirill draws attention to this in his short video and reminds his listeners of the power of prayer. I find it moving.

God bless,


Wednesday, May 25, 2016

Don't Scorn Bank Fishing

People scorn bank fishing. They say, "Look, loser. Where's your Mercury rig Bass Boat?" and I know what they mean. Having a boat should equal catching more fish, as well as planing about on the lake like the King of Texas. But that's not always the case.

Just the other day, on Lake Whitney's spillway, there I was, casting off into the current from the bank while a boat full of guys anchored opposite me and started fishing. Who caught more? I did; 8 Bass to their 0 Bass. Mind you, they drank 8 beers to my 0 beers. So they won that part of the contest.

I reflected on that and the message was clear. You can have a perfectly good fishing experience from the bank. In fact, you might even do better than some clowns goofing off in a boat, and that's the way it was this evening.

No boat, but plenty of fishing action from the shore of Lake Whitney as the sun was setting. Was it beautiful? Yes. Was it exciting? For sure, especially when a decent Bass smashed into my lure. Was it expensive? Not nearly so expensive as a boat, or a night out in Dallas.

Still, I'm looking forward to one of my rich socialist pals redistributing part of their great wealth to me in the form of a Skiff. For that matter, I'd be happy with a canoe, maybe one with a motor.

And, let the record show, I've resolved to learn fly fishing. I've heard that can even be done from the bank.

Carry on,



Students at Oregon State are getting serious about fighting injustice and oppression, which is why they've launched a campaign to provide transsexuals with a "companion."

Potential "companions" are identified by a special "#I'llGoWithYou" button, which can be worn on clothing or a backpack. PJ Harris explains the logic behind the special buttons:

“If someone is walking around with the button displayed on their backpack, a person who does not feel safe in gendered spaces, such as bathrooms, locker rooms, or even talking with a professor, can walk up to someone with a button and ask them to come with them.”

Well done, Oregon State, for tackling the greatest civil liberty and justice issue of our time.

Whether UFOs are "gendered spaces" is presently unclear.

Ad Astra,


Monday, May 23, 2016

Mark Zuckerberg, Billionaire Socialist

I'm a Billionaire Socialist!

Mark Zuckerberg, billionaire socialist extraordinaire, with a net worth of over $30 billion, is against America having borders or protecting them.

A Typical Billionaire Socialist's Palace, With a Border.

Maybe that's why Mark Zuckerberg lives in a mansion with a high-security border and's demolishing homes around his rich leftist compound, to turn the border between himself and the rest of the world more to his liking.

The Facebook Logo

Facefraud, which has a "trending news" section, is a well-known pawn of the NWO, globalist elite. That would make Zuckerberg its stooge.

Kick out the JAMS,


The Awesome Power of Topwater Fishing

I know what you're thinking, all 5 of you that read this shallow excuse for a mind blog. You're thinking for someone who's always banging on about the awesomness of topwater lures, you sure don't seem to use them much. In fact, you spent the best part of Trinity Sunday afternoon fishing with a spoon, so-called LSP, if that's your real name, which we doubt.

OK, I stand rebuked, but it's a mark of character to be able to take constructive criticism and improve performance. And with that in mind, I set off for an evening of Tiny Torpedo topwater engagement with the aquatic opposition at Lake Whitney.

Lake Whitney at Dusk, Choppy

I won't bore you by saying how still, tranquil and glassy smooth the lake was, and I won't take up your time with the conversation I had with a fellow Angler, a youngish black fellow who proudly announced that he was "a Harris" and that he'd bought his rod at a pawnshop. I liked him; good for you, taking pride in the family name. Anyway, he left for Lake Aquilla and I got on with business.

In a short while Perch were swirling around the Torpedo. That got my hopes and adrenalin up, hey the Torpedo works. But no bites. Bass, on the other hand, were breaking the water off to my right towards the dam. Go where the fish are, says Fishing Wisdom, and that's what I did.

Catch That Bass! On a Torpedo

The Torpedo whipped those Bass into a frenzy and before long one was on the line, leaping and fighting. I brought him in, a decent fish, and for about 20 minutes it was fish on and big action. Exciting, one of the best things out there, as the ferocious predators explode around your lure.

Then it was dark and time to go, the awesomness of topwater fishing vindicated.

Fish On,


Sunday, May 22, 2016

Holy Trinity Fishing

It's the Feast of the Holy Trinity today, so I decided to celebrate by fishing Lake Whitney's spillway after the second Mass. After clambering down the steep and treacherous rip rap, I set up on the shore of the fast moving Brazos and cast off with a striper lure. It seemed to be getting bites, very encouraging, and then it got snagged. Well done, striper lure, you caught a rock.

In the meanwhile, Gar, some of them large, were cruising the bank like submarines. Maybe the Gar will go for a crankbait shad, I thought decisively, and sure enough they did; before long it was ambushed by one of the prehistoric creatures. 

Great excitement! Get that fish! But don't rush, let the Gar take the bait and run with it, don't go for a premature hookset and lose it all, that's the method. But in this case, the ferocious looking monster, and it was, lifted the lure up out of the water, fixed me with its eye, shook the fakey little plastic shad about and then spat it out. You could almost hear the spit, I think I did hear it. Take that, LSP, spat the Gar.

Hunh. Back to the tackle box for another solution. Seeing as fishing is all about science, I relied on intuition and picked out a cheap silver spoon, the kind you buy at Walmart for $2.00. Throw that in the water and see what happens.

A small Hybrid Striper was what happened, who hit the spoon about 30 yards off the bank and fought all the way in. Fierce little fella. If it's not broken, don't fix it, says Fishing Wisdom, and I repeated the silver spoon trick, casting out to midstream, letting the current take it across the channel towards the bank and then reeling it in. The idea being to get opportunistic hits midstream and pick up fish waiting in ambush out of the current. Science.

7 or 8 Hybrids/Sandies and one baby Widemouth later I called it a day and clambered back up the treacherous rip rap to the rig. Don't fall off the rocks and break your neck, fool, I thought grimly to myself, rods in hand. Several carabiners, pitons and traverses later I was back at the truck, unscathed. Not only did I get some neat after Mass fishing in, but also a well-needed rock climbing refresher. Two birds, one stone, as it were. And here's the thing.

The fish weren't large but they were big fun, and that's what it's all about.

Fish On,


Saturday, May 21, 2016

Hillary, The Old Witch

This teaching infographic was sent in by a member of the intelligence community, and I think it speaks for itself. But go right ahead, vote for Hillary before she melts, or gets cuffed.

And while you're at it, boycott Target, which is a kind of transsexual megastore, plagued by tanking stock value.

Your Old Pal,


Archbishop of Canterbury Wants to Get Rid of AIDS

The Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby, wants to eradicate AIDS by 2030. I hope he succeeds, that'd be grand, no more AIDS, though some have questioned why Anglicanism's top prelate isn't focusing on on other more widespread and equally deadly diseases.

In related news, the Church of England invests heavily in the rainbow tech giant, Google. How much money does the venerable CofE have with the Big Gay NWO champion of alternative gender identity and same-sex marriage? 

According to RT, some $22 million as of 2011.

Make of that what you will.


Friday, May 20, 2016


Heddon Tiny Torpedo

Fishing with topwater lures can offer explosive action and big fun, no doubt about it. Bass will attack that twitching bit of plastic, hitting the lure like steam train before pulling it down into the depths, and the fight's on. 

The emphasis here is on can; a lot of the time, if you're me, poppers, torpedoes, spooks and the like produce no action at all. Still, the other day at Lake Whitney I had good success with a Torpedo and decided to read up on the subject. I found this article helpful, here's an excerpt:

Wham! When the strike came, I stifled my jerk reflex and waited for the fish to pull the bait down. Then, when I felt tension, I set back, and in short order a surprised three-pounder was flopping in my net.

Heddon Spook

...Most every brushpile harbored bass, and my Tiny Torpedo and that stay-put, irritating retrieve were the keys to catching them. Those fish never hit when the lure first gurgled into range. Instead, it was the twitching that changed their mood from neutral to aggressive. By tantalizing them long enough, the lure triggered their instinct to kill the "helpless prey" even though they weren't hungry.

So this is the object with topwater lures, to present bass with a vulnerable, unaware "creature" that is an easy target, then allowing nature to take its course.

You can read the rest of it here and learn something about the why, where, when and how of topwater lures. For me the why's simple, sheer excitement at the ferocious, leaping, impact of the Bass. 

Lake Aquilla, The Challenge Is On!

Nothing like it and while I'm no expert, the success I have had makes me want more. A lot more.

Fish On,