Tuesday, July 31, 2018

Hijab Barbie

You may know that MATTEL has produced a new hijab wearing Barbie doll to "diversify the Barbie line." The doll's modeled after  an Olympic fencer, Ibtihaj Muhammad. Ibtihaj had this to say.

I love my country, but I don’t recognize it today. Not in the Supreme Court ruling upholding the travel ban. Not in a Supreme Court nominee potentially engineered to undo reproductive choice, access to health care and the Russia investigation. Not in the family separation and detention policy. Not in our move to initiate trade wars and rally against breastfeeding and the World Health Organization. Not in the abandonment of allies and basic decency in how we treat other humans.

Well, well, listen to the hijabi Muslima darting and cutting with her épée. A travel ban that'd stop fanatical Muslim headchopper bombers coming to America? A Supreme Court that might look unfavourably on infanticide? And healthcare. 

The awesome, successful, brilliant, Obamacare scheme to give all the poor people insurance and then fine them if they couldn't pay for it. How very hijab.

Not unlike the inherently fascist plan to treat illegal immigrants as, you know, illegal. And God forbid, a level playing field when it comes to trade. National Socialist or what?

How dare the US trade at a natural advantage against other countries! How NAZI. A bit like breast feeding (? maybe this needs 'honing' -- Ed.), come to think of it.

In the face of this hypocritical, nonsensical, two-bit, dropped-on-head-as-infant cultural Marxist drivel we propose an aggressive policy of Draw-Mo campaigns, where talented artists draw the likeness of the Great Prophet. Then, when followers of the Prophet come out of the woodwork we...

Get all hijab. After all, it's a symbol of freedom and feminine empowerment.

Aloha Snackbar,


Monday, July 30, 2018

Wolves Slay Unicorns

This one's for a well known member of the strategic defense community and noted irregular cavalryman.

OK, for "London" read Arizona highlands. By the way, White Wolves are the Unicorn's natural predator.

As you were,


Sunday, July 29, 2018

Fish in the Heat of the Day

Fishing at 2 pm at the end of July in Texas doesn't make a whole lot of sense. I admit it, the fish are pretty much stunned by the heat and not biting. But I was in it for the challenge.

Sure enough, it was pretty slow going. Still, after a few minutes there was a tug on the line and out came a medium Perch, too big to use as Striper bait but a catch nonetheless. After that?

Not much until a Black Drum decided to attack the line, a fierce little beast and followed up by another, larger cousin. 

Good action, all things considered, and then the water grew quiet in the heat haze, with the exception of  a mighty Perch which I used as bait for the ferocious Striper. 

They weren't having it, so I packed up and headed for home before the air caught fire, noting a curious message on the way.

Fish on,


Saturday, July 28, 2018

Putin Says Christianity Foundation Of Russia

Speaking near the Kremlin,  Vladimir Putin stated that Christianity was “the starting point for the formation and development of Russian statehood, the true spiritual birth of our ancestors, the determination of their identity. Identity, the flowering of national culture and education.”

That's the Russian President, addressing a crowd of thousands of clergy and laity today on the 1030th anniversary of the adoption of Christianity by Russia. And he did so at what was once the epicenter of godless  revolutionary Communism.

As you reflect on that, ask yourself if any other leader of a major world power would be able to say such words, much less believe them. Ask yourself too why the Left hates Putin with visceral intensity.

I say again, Vladimir Putin is a New Constantine.

A fourth Rome there shall never be.


Archbishop of Canterbury Levitates In Mexico!

A Mexican star gazer, Salvador Guerrero, got more than he bargained for when he climbed onto his roof in Colonia Agricola Oriental for an evening's UFO spotting. 

Looking out over the night sky, Guerrero saw a floating object that defied belief, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby.

Zooming in on the humanoid figure with his video camera, Guerrero witnessed the Archbishop inexplicably hovering in midair.

"The Archbishop had no wings, no parachute, no engine, he just floated, bobbing up and down," stated the shocked UFO spotter, "He was spinning slowly, arms outstretched, then he disappeared behind a house."

The Archbishop's destination is currently unknown.

Ad Astra,


Friday, July 27, 2018

Bring The Beat Back

Hillary's back in the press and rockin, in a MuMu.

Nothing quite like a MuMu to whip up the Illuminati base.

Self-justified and ancient, that's our Hill.

Lock her up and just in case you missed it the first time, time is eternal.

Stand by the JAMS,


Wednesday, July 25, 2018

Whats Up With WANC? The Worldwide Anglican Non Communion

Reeling from the Holy See's decision to turn all Roman Catholic churches, cathedrals, monasteries, convents and chapels into mosques, we turn to the venerable Worldwide Anglican Non Communion (WANC). What's WANC been up to? Quite a lot.

WANC's leader, Archbishop Justin "Chinos" Welby has been meeting with Egypt's Grand Imam. Good work, Justsin, Archbishop of Canterdhimmi. Conservative Anglicans, represented by the Global Anglican Future's Conference (GAFCON), haven't been slow either.


GAFCON III was held in Jeruslalem this summer, the largest international meeting of Anglicans of its kind in decades. And more power to it, GAFCON stands against the clownish cultural marxism of mainstream, first world Anglicanism. Stand by the revealed Word of God, thunders GAFCON, and here at the Compound we agree. 

Why then does GAFCON allow its various provinces to ordain women as priests? Good question, surely not because of First World bribes and CMS fostered disbelief in sacramental priesthood. Regardless, good luck to this evangelical protest against gay marriage rituals.

A Typical Austin Tranny

Speaking of which, the Episcopal Church met in Austin, predictably, for its triennial General Convention. On the agenda? Should we make our Prayer Book Even More Gay and should every Episcopalian be able to get a Gay Wedding Ritual (Resolution B012). The former failed, the latter passed to rapturous applause.

Up until this summer, dioceses in the Episcopal Church were able to decide whether or not they'd be gay, it was up to the bishop. If the bishop felt gay the whole diocese went gay, if not, not so much.


But this has changed. Thanks to GC79, it's up to the local priest figure to decide if the church will go gay and do a same sex marriage ceremony. Sorry, straight bishops, all 8 you, your diocese has to go gay even if you don't like it.


Leaving aside the rainbow riding idiocracy of it all, we have to wonder if Apostolic Order means anything in the Episcopal Church. Stupid question, of course not, all means ALL in Presiding Bishop Figure Michael Curry's Jesus Movement, unless of course you're a Christian. 

Inside The Cockpit

Good luck, Bishop Dan Martins et al, you'll need it.

Covenant Communion Partners Forever,


Tuesday, July 24, 2018

Italian Bishop Goes Full Mosque

Monsignor Raffaele Nogaro, bishop emeritus of Caserta, comes right out and says it. He'd be willing to “turn all the churches into mosques if it were useful to the cause and if it allowed us to save the lives of men and women.”

Let that sink in. A Roman Catholic bishop would rather see all of Italy's churches become mosques than stop massive Muslim immigration into his country. All in the name of charity, of course, but is charity the virtue we're dealing with or some other thing?

Imagine, for a moment, that the immigrants from Africa and the Middle East were Salvini supporters or even worse, Latin Mass Catholics. Would Nogaro be so keen to take them in? Perhaps it's just me, but I doubt it. 

Again, picture Nogaro's horror at the prospect of millions of National Socialists flooding into his country. And quite right too, no right thinking person would want to import that kind of hatred into their homeland.

But that's just what Nogaro and other Catholic bishops, including the Pope, are proposing. They're asking us to welcome millions of Muslims into our countries, millions of people who are part of a religion that hates and has been at war with Christianity and the world since its inception. 

This isn't charity, it's stupidity and perhaps something worse. Could it be that Nogaro et al are in favor of turning churches into mosques because they don't like the public expression of the Faith, because they hate the culture of the West and want to destroy it? 

After all, what better way to get rid of a despised culture than to do away with its cult, its religion, by abolishing this in the public square and turning its sanctuaries into mosques. 

Surely Nogaro and his Islamizing no borders friends wouldn't be cultural Marxists and when the call to prayer echoes above St. Peter's, would they answer that over and above the ringing of the racist Angelus?

Then again, perhaps they're betting the fighting monkey on the odds of demographic change going their way. 

Your Old Pal,


Monday, July 23, 2018

Michelle Mondays!

Here at Melania Mondays! we've been accused of being partisan, unfair, of only covering stories about America's beautiful, popular, glamorous and intelligent First Lady. But what about Michelle, even Vogue couldn't make her look good. 

We want to change that and thanks to a heady dose of owl magic, we're delighted to announce a new fragrance.

Michelle, eau de parfum isn't just a scent, it's a multi-spectrum solution, from weed killer to rat poison to stench bomb. And let's not forget the spiritual aspect.

In liquid or solid state incense form, Michelle Musk is a guaranteed draw to evil spirits, like a Draw Mo contest but for demons instead of Jihadis. Fine difference but you get the point. Crack open the Musk and... there's a demon.

Just make sure you've got an exorcist on hand, a real one who uses Latin, which Satan fears.



Sunday, July 22, 2018

Owl Magic, A Short Tale Of The Occult

The heat came down like the beating of giant wings, suffocating, intense, taking the air right out of your lungs  and sucking it up into whatever was beyond the bonewhite glare of the sun.

So deal with it. Not easy, but I strode into the furnace and somehow made it to the Shamrock filling station pick 'n steal. A short walk across the anteroom of Hell.

"How's it going?" I asked across cracked formica in the cooling blast of air conditioning. She rose up from checking cheap cigars, Swisher Sweets, in all their lurid 99 cent, bluntish glory.

"OK. That it, coffee?" 
"And a pack of cigarettes, Marlboro Light, short, box."

She had the cigarettes ready. It was a morning ritual, regular and repeated but something was different.

"You like the smell?"

Stick incense wafted on the AC, familiar enough; like the odor of tipis in Wales, Austin or San Francisco.

"I smell it," I replied, "It smells like hippies."

She giggled, suddenly coy.

"But hey, better than a toilet, right?"
"So true, better than a toilet. But what's with the owl?"

She paused, laughter most definitely over, and looked at the plastic bird glaring round-eyed from the top of a glass counter and its  sign for burned offerings. 

We gazed in silence, while darkness flickered in and out at the edge of vision, barely perceptible shadowmen, closing in. I ended the spell.

"So what's with the owl. Guarding against evil spirits?"

Liquid brown Aztec Inca eyes met mine and stayed there before another giggle. "No, he's just an owl, you know, like some stupid bird."

I walked out into the heat, coffee in hand, to return the next day; rituals bear repetition.

The owl looked down from his perch and darkness clustered, sharp and flitting, almost out of sight.

"Coffee and cigarettes?"
"That's right, same again."
"You remember the owl?
"You're right. He stops the evil."
"I know."

I looked at Mictecacihuatl and she at me, impassive, empty, a void, this was just the way it was. 

Vade retro, I walked into the searing light of the day, "God bless."

Behind me came a rustle of feathers and the sound of tearing, plucking, ripping and pulling at flesh. I didn't look back.

All Gods, readers, are not the same.

God bless,


Friday, July 20, 2018

Stop Gendering Your Baby Vice

Biological sex doesn't exist. I'll leave you to ponder the Satanic insanity of Tourjee's "gender is a construct" piece for the aptly named Vice. In the meanwhile, here's a helpful tune.

Gotta love the Dead but really, is that the best you can do, Marxists? Look, idiots, everyone knows that biological sex exists. Keep denying it and everything else that's true and you'll look as ridiculous as...

Hillary 20/20.

Your Old Mate,


Thursday, July 19, 2018


If they can do it once they can do it again.

With voter ID Hillary would have won.

So let's kick Putin out of the ballot box.

And save democracy.




Scraping By

Farsighted readers of this family oriented fishing blog will remember that the Compound's HQ was starting to look shabby and we hired painting Mexicans to put things right. Good call, the crew in question do a decent job but only when they turn up.

The problem was that they turned up rarely if at all and apparently didn't want to get paid. Who knows, perhaps they thought of their work as a kind of donation to the church. Which is great but left the historic Texan wooden house in danger of becoming an historic  Texan ruin. So we hired a new crew.

Guess what, they turned up and they're still turning up, every day. It's a kind of miracle and a pretty big job. First they scrape, then they power wash, then they caulk.

Scraping, washing and caulking done, on goes the primer, followed by the paint, all in 40*+ weather; it's a wonder the paint doesn't combust or even the air itself. House painting in a Texan summer can't be easy; well done, Team, for sticking with it.

At the moment things are pretty much at the scraping stage, though the North wall's been primed and's almost ready for paint. When that's done the scaffold can go back and the rest reached with ladders.

It'll look good when it's done.

Scrape on,