There's a lot of noise in the media these days about Texas. Is it some kind of neo-fascist Platonic Ideal, instantiated, Aristotle-style, in a landmass that's as big or bigger than a lot of lesser countries?
Or is it a place where the frontier, with its God, guns, church and country life, looms large? A place where people don't look too kindly at latte swilling coastal elites telling them to get with the program and ride the rainbow. Whatever the case, I took my dog for a walk after Morning Prayer and went in search of Texas.
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| Hey, Look at This. |
The Nepalese woman at the pick 'n steal accepted my money for a coffee, while a crew of Park Department workers played scratch card lottery. Some were black, some were white, some were Latino. They were having fun, loudly, at losing the lottery and the coffee tasted pretty good. Have to hand it to the Nepalese, they make damn good fighting knives and excellent coffee. Was that Texas?
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| Texas |
On the way home, I passed 4 churches in the space of 4 blocks. Blue Destroyer used the entrance of one as a "convenience," he's a cow dog. Maybe that's Texas? Then I found a snake skin on the side of the road.
Satisfied with finally finding Texas, I went back to the Compound.
That is all.
LSP
8 comments:
I found Texas back as a young U.S. Army soldier, age 20. I didn't know why I liked Texas at the time, I just did. In Texas in 1975, you could drive your truck and drink a beer without getting arrested. You could take your .22 out past the city limits (I was stationed in San Angelo, TX), and blast away, much as you want, and nobody said boo.
But it was the fact that it is a live and let live place. I didn't know that there were so few places like it, until I left and never had the same freedoms anywhere else.
I think that you found Texas, LSP!
Nicely put. I remember shooting my Uncle's shotgun (Winchester semi?) in downtown Denton right by the campus -- no one seemed to mind -- and going just outside of town with a .22 and blasting away. That was around '75. These days you'd get locked up. But still, there's a freedom in Texas.
Reverend: Lord knows that you start blasting away with a BB gun here in Illinois, and you are guaranteed to spend time in the Big House. I just can't wait to start building my compound.
Speaking of compounds, as I am new to them, how does one behave on a compound, Pastor? Should I ask somebody like Ted Kennedy who knows a thing or two about compound life? I hear that Ted will fill me in on chasing women around coffee tables, swilling Scotch from dusk to dawn, and how to fill my day with general debauchery. Is that how life is on a compound?
Or should I just ask Caligula?
I went out, LL, and there it was, Texas.
There's compounds and there's compounds, Fredd.
For example, on Hillary's compound it's OK to cavort with the genius of Yoko while servants bring you fine wines and rare meats. You know, it's a charity. Other compounds are different and focus more on shooting, riding, hunting and fishing. Some even have boats. I think LL's compound has a nautical edge to it.
So behavior depends on the kind of place you want to set up.
No need to pester Caligula, then, I guess.
Well, unless you're fixin' on going down the Caligula route. Caligula, "Little Boots," is probably better translated "Bootsy" -- an army nickname. I guess Bootsy didn't turn out so well after his auspicious start as a Legionary mascot.
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