Fireworks

 

Here in Dallas, everyone's shooting their firearms into the sky. I offered to do the same, all hail the mighty Glock, but Ma LSP said no. Oh well. So here's some Handel. Fireworks, for New Year.

Best,

LSP

Happy New Year

 

Pounding rain, roaring wind, floods, construction, almost zero visibility. An omen for the coming year? Not necessarily, just another trip down I35 to Dallas and our ongoing War Against The Weather. 

Who knows, perhaps we'll rejoin the Paris Climate Accord, and raise so much tax that our old enemy, the Weather, will finally be defeated and our paymaster, China, will rise victorious from the struggle.

That aside, have fun tonight if you're in the mood and, of course, a blessed and happy New Year. 

Cheers,

LSP

Behold Genius

 

I call genius, or perhaps you  dare to disagree? Look, here's a photo:

Your Pal,

LSP

Erebus Diamond - Ladies Side

Georgiana Spencer-Poyntz Cavendish, 17th Duchess of Devonshire, looked out on the manicured lawn of Green Park from the windows of London’s Cavalry and Guards Club. 

It was mid-May in 2204 and it was raining, predictably, spring's drops tapping and patterning the windowpane. England’s foremost adventuress and landowner of not inconsiderable fortune turned to her host, “Kitchener, what earthly purpose is there in weather satellites when they can’t control the weather?”

Lord Kitchener fixed Devonshire with a friendly eye over a cup of afternoon Darjeeling, freshly brought in that very day from Her Imperial Majesty’s territories in Burma. “Earthly, Devo?” he had known her since they were children playing on the grounds of Chatsworth, “I’d say more celestial, don’t you think?” Devonshire sat down neatly and helped herself to tea, “Celestial, Field Marshall?”

“Yes, just that. To be more precise, the Celestial Kingdom.”

“You mean Mars, New China? I thought that settled business.”

Kitchener frowned, “Settled? In a sense, yes. New China isn’t about to eject our Legations, the Dowager Empress is gone and Prince Qing sits on the throne. He’s favourable to us, as well he should be.” 

The Field Marshall thought back to the high orbit bombardment his Anglo-US fleet had rained down on the Empress’ forces. A merciless hail of incandescent fury which, as if out of spite, had obliterated the Chinese Summer Palace and the priceless artefacts therein. Well, war was war, even if limited.

“You see, Devo, the raid was successful, but there’s the small matter of a diamond, the Erebus Diamond.”

Devonshire looked askance, “The Erebus Diamond? What do you mean, surely we have that?” Kitchener smiled, and instantly they found themselves in Null Space, free from prying eyes and ears, the comfort of of 127 Piccadilly replaced by the no-space of Null, a grey background surging with damping static.

“There,” said Kitchener, above the hissing sound, “The diamond. As you know, Sir Carter Headington was carrying the gem in transit when we launched our strike on the Palace and lifted the siege.” Devonshire glanced agreement, “And?”

“It's disappeared. Gone. Lost, if you’ll forgive the phrase, in the 'fog of war,  Nebel des Krieges.' We suspect the Tongs have it, which means Empress Cixi intends to have it, which must never happen. You understand.”

“I most certainly do,” remarked Devonshire, tragically widowed when her philandering husband met his end in an alcohol-fueled duel on the Crystal Palace space elevator. His opponent had been in the pay of the Chinese Dowager Empress and of course she had killed him, a matter of honour. Yes, Devonshire knew something of the danger of Cixi. But so be it, the elevator incident had left her vastly wealthy and free to do as she pleased.

Georgiana regarded Kitchener with her famously insouciant grin. He replied, “I think you know what to do, Devo, old girl. Go out and get that diamond. And by the way, should Cixi disappear, which of course she has already, that would be helpful.”

Devonshire nodded, and in an instant they were back in the reassuring warmth of the club. She descended the long stairwell in a rustle of skirts, admiring the paintings of illustrious charges. Such was Empire. Then to her Brougham and a brisk clip past the Palace, Apsley House, where the Wellington's held court when in Town, and on through Hyde Park, and the towering Albert Memorial.

Georgiana looked up at the soaring gothic magnificence of its spire, which seemed to pierce heaven itself, and reflected on the Prince Consort's cryogenically frozen head, sealed there, in its midst. Her neural implants picked up traces of Albert's refrigerated voice, vestigial waves of the mind emanating from his frosty sepulchre, What of worth has ever been achieved which did not inspire fear? 

"Quite," thought Devonshire, "if Teutonic." The Consort had been dead, for the most part, for well over two hundred years and still the people wore mourning. She did herself, perfectly, in black. 

Perhaps this was about to change, but regardless, the heroine of Olympus Mons thought on the brilliance of the Erebus Diamond and plotted a mental course for Phobos, Great Britain’s Imperial staging post for the Red Planet.

Yes, this story writes itself... I think.

Cheers,

LSP

Tom Sawyer

 

Do you like the awful Canadian(?) pop band, Rush? I don't, especially, but I do enjoy Tom Sawyer. Good work, boys.

Cheers,

LSP

The Erebus Diamond - Intro

 

We landed on a shelf of rock selected by autopilot, got out, planted the flag and cried, “For God, Harry, England and St. George.” Helliwell Axe.

"I would annex the planets if I could." Cecil Rhodes.

Being a series of narratives on space exploration and conquest.

As Lady Devonshire urged the grav bike to a throaty roar, she gave Brolly, her obsequious Welsh butler, a high-spirited swipe with her crop, "Hold on tight!" He was drunk, as usual, and hardly noticed. “Yes, Milady!” And so the sun rose over Phobos and Devonshire's Triumph Spectre lifted into the thin air of the recently terraformed Martian moon.

Fast wasn’t in it, and Brolly held on for dear life whilst the bike sped over rocky Phobian desert, arms tight around the driver's fur-clad waist. Beneath them, the sixteenth Erebus expedition toiled up the slopes of a towering mountain, a jagged remnant of the cataclysmic Jovian War. “Why walk when you can ride,” remarked Devonshire, glancing down at surly Venusian Sherpas. Brolly clenched his teeth against the biting cold. At this rate he’d soon be sober.

Sobriety aside, Phobos is the larger of the Martian moons but only some eleven miles in diameter, so it wasn’t long before the Triumph touched down on the parade square of the Residence. Neatly ranked sepoys stamped to attention and Major Hardman offered a brisk salute.

“Time for breakfast, Major?” enquired Devonshire, already striding to the plasteel dome of the Mess in her burnished Lobb's top boots. “Do keep up, Brolly,” snapped Devonshire as Hardman struggled with the door. In fairness, it wasn't every day that he was fortunate enough to welcome the heroine of Olympus Mons to his particular outpost of Empire. 

“Come on, Major, this air lock won’t open itself,” and then they were inside and seated at gleaming mahogany, battle honors hanging overhead like the triumphant standards they were. Nonplussed by regimental glory, Devonshire turned smartly to Hardman, “Major, about this diamond.”

“Diamond, Devo?”

“Yes, diamond. You know the matter exactly, don't play the fool.”

Hardman thought back to desperate scrimmages in the lava tubes of Mars, “We lost a lot of good men.”

“So, all the more reason to get it back.”

“But the Tongs, hardly pacified, eh?”

Yes, the terrorist Tongs of New China had been in a state of Huawei driven holy war since an Anglo-US expedition burned the Celestial Kingdom's vaunted Summer palace to the ground. "Bamboo burns quick," remarked Force Commander, Lord Kitchener VI at the time of the raid, and he wasn't wrong. Rice paper met Rods from God and all the incandescent fury of the British Lion and American Eagle combined. A bad day for the mandarins, indeed.

While Hardman reflected on the fight, he had seen the elephant, data streamed across Devonshire's eyes and she flashed the Major an enchanting smile. He knew that no was not an option. It was then that the bomb exploded. An Orderly, Corporal Tighe, was vapourized instantly, and the room sprayed with a deadly shrapnel of molten Mess silver.

Major Cornelius Hardman stood, the veteran of a thousand psychic and literal wars, brushing invisible lint from his immaculate dress blues. “No disrespect, Ma’am, but did I mention the Tongs were restless?” Lady Devonshire raised a perfect eyebrow of sheer artistry, “Quite. And I intend to have that diamond. Brolly! Coffee. Now.”

Thanks to nano second force deflectors, both Major and Devonshire were unscathed from the blast and proceeded to breakfast in the wreckage of the room, ignoring hustling servitor bots who busily repaired the splintered chaos and slaughter around them.

“I say, Devo, old girl, best meal of the day, what?”

“So they say, Major. I must and shall have that diamond. Would that be marmalade?”

Such is the indomitable spirit of Britannia’s far-flung Empire, an Imperium upon which the sun never sets.

With apologies to everyone who isn't mentioned in this short.

Ad Astra,

LSP

Just Taking a Break

 

Unlike Satan, I try to take some time off after Christmas and usually fly to Calgary, which is fun but wasn't on the cards because of the China Virus. So I pointed the rig at Dallas and went there instead. Big fun, presents, dogs, and family, and a delicious rib roast. 

The roast became a beef and mushroom pie on Boxing day, but that was after a haircut at Ramone's and a pint of Guinness at Cannon's.

Cannon's advertises itself as an Irish Pub and serves Irish style food, like bangers and mash, chicken curry and an "Irish Breakfast." The breakfast costs $18. 

We all went to Mass at St. Matthias on Sunday, and it was good to sit in the pew as incense rose like the prayers of the saints. I like that church and its Rector, and we made plans to go skeet shooting in the next week or so. Always fun to get out and blast away at the clay adversary.

And that, punters, is the story of that.

Cheers,

LSP

Dance Music

 

Your Pal,

LSP

Adeste Fidelis

 

Adeste Fidelis from the Front, and from KCC, which somehow still allows Christian music in its midst, bizarrely.

Hope you've all had the best of days. Here at Dallas HQ it was all about roast beef, Yorkshire Pudding and General Merriment.

Speaking of ranks, the PFC called in from Korea and was having fun, his team had a Christmas BBQ, involving ribs, and all was well.

God bless,

LSP

Merry Christmas!

 The people who sat in darkness have seen a great light.

O God, you have caused this holy night to shine with the brightness of the true Light: Grant that we, who have known the mystery of that Light on earth, may also enjoy him perfectly in heaven; where with you and the Holy Spirit he lives and reigns, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen.

 

Merry Christmas!

LSP

Austin Goes Lock Down

 

Austin, Texas, twinned with Portland, Seattle, Chengdu and San Francisco has gone full Level Five Lock Down, with city authorities telling people to stay at home and businesses to go "contactless." The recommendations come after a staggering rise in COVID related hospitalizations.

The Level Five emergency advisory followed Monday's catastrophic surge of 56 people reportedly admitted to area hospitals with the China Virus, bringing the total of WuFlu hospitalizations to 333 persons, of which 84 were in intensive care.

Here at the Compound, numerologists have been hard at work on the data and note that 333 is exactly half of 666, the notorious number of the Beast in St. John's Book of Revelation. Does this mean that Austin, the capitol of the Lone Star State, is half way to becoming a satrapy of Antichrist?

Possibly so, in which case it makes sense for the City's rulers to lock Austin down and lock it down hard. Go further, build a wall around the city and forbid movement in or out. It's for the good of the state and the country as a whole. C'mon man, be safe, spread hope.

In the meanwhile, Austin Mayor Steve Adler has nothing whatsoever to do with China, at all. Don't say stench of treason, chicanery and corruption.

Cheers,

LSP

Playing in the Band

 

Here at the Compound we play requests, and here's one, Playing in the Band, by the indomitable Dead. That said, are you on the bus or not? The bus being your chance to #StopTheSteal. #Jan6. 

Your call, be a serf, or not,

LSP

Rise Up

Thanks to the STAR, Texas was bright, warm and sunny this morning as I drove about the country, getting the job done. Hey, someone's got to do it. Christmas tasks over, I fell back to the Compound and wandered into the church hall to scout about.

Behold, it was decorated for the great Feast of the Incarnation, candy-cane style. I couldn't help myself, "Good Lord!" only to notice the author of this tremendous effort sitting on a bench, exhausted from the sheer intensity of the thing. We visited, and I thanked her for working so hard, and she bought us a pizza. Half peperoni, half "meat lovers." Delicious.

Unlike the recent Covid stimulus bill, which shovels billions into foreign and special interests while putting Americans precisely last. What does this tell us about our elected representatives? That they hate, despise and scorn you, the dirt people who pay their salaries? 

Well, yes, of course. But more than that, their income, the millions of dollars which buy their mansions, servants, and private jets, doesn't come from the pathetic amount of money you give them. 

Which, let's be honest, couldn't make up mortgage on their faux Versailles. No, it comes from the grift they get in office, obviously. 

Pitch Forks and Nooses down the Mall, eh?

Your Friend,

LSP

The Great Oz Porkulus

Well here we are in the Land of Oz, and when the curtain's pulled back what do we see? Our elite Overlords getting ready to vote on a massive China Virus stimulus bill. Good work, millionaires, about time you decided to help out people whose livelihoods have been wrecked by your electioneering lockdowns and business closures.

That's why the second largest bill in US history includes $14 million for the suffering Kennedy Center, $10 million for "gender programs" in, please don't laugh, Pakistan, and cash for for HIV/AIDS workers in foreign countries, so they can buy and insure new cars. To say nothing of billions in foreign money laundering aid. But you, the American, get $600. And think yourself lucky, serf. 

You can read all/some about it at PJ Media. In the meanwhile, what heinous, brazen, literal disregard for the people. Even AOC scorns it, unlike, say, Mitch McConnell. Hey, can't pay your rent, foreclosed? Don't worry, peasant, the EPA gets $33 million for new buildings, so sleep easy, dirt person.

Gentlemen and gentlewomen, have we reached the point at which our governance is so utterly corrupt and in such blatant disregard of the people who pay it to exist that we have to take action? If so, what? Voting, apparently, doesn't work anymore and neither do the courts.

I'd say there's trouble brewing, but that's just me. What's your take?

January 6,

LSP

News From Korea

 

For those interested, the PFC's doing well in Korea keeping the ravening Bolshevik hordes in check and went snow boarding the other day, courtesy of his battalion. He described the adventure thus:

"Dad, the Battalion sent us snow boarding last week."

"Well that's awesome."

"It was, and we were pretty high up, on a 400 foot slope. I went down at the same time as the Sergeant and looked over at him. What happens is that you go where you look, so I beelined across the mountain like a missile."

"And hit the Sergeant?"

"Yes, right on target! But all cool. He laughed. They filmed it."

Who knows, maybe we'll get to see that video, stay tuned. In other news, we talked about Solar Winds, rioting, insurrection, civil war and all of that. His response? "Put a Bradley on the street and watch those fkrs go down."

He has a point, and LL commented on the soldier's words in a reply to a post I took down because it didn't seem fair to leave you, the reader, with House of Pain on a Sunday. And I quote: "Nobody can doubt John's eloquence or his positive mental attitude." Well said.

And well done, kid. Sorry you can't come home for Christmas because of the scamdemic.

God bless,

LSP

Fight For Trump

...FIGHT FOR TRUMP - Save America, Save the World pic.twitter.com/4uHNNPmjLY

— KAGWAR 😼 (@KAGWAR2020) December 17, 2020

I'd say this short infovideo speaks for itself, but to drive the point home there's this, the wildly popular Democrat candidate. Look, here he is, behold the 80 million vote enthusiasm.

C'mon man! We're supposed to believe this rich old crook won the presidency by many millions of votes, more than any other person in the history of US history?

Go on, you're having a larf,

LSP

Annunciation

 

You can stare, in slack-jawed rightist consternation at the unfolding coup in our country, or you can take time off from the news cycle and reflect on the Annunciation and the Angelic Salutation. Being unhealthily saturated with former, I went down the latter path today. How does the angel address the Virgin?

χαῖρε, κεχαριτωμένη, ὁ κύριος μετὰ σοῦ, which means: χαῖρε - "hail" or "rejoice." κεχαριτωμένη - "O graced" or "favored one." κύριος μετὰ σοῦ? The Lord is with you. And note, the word κεχαριτωμένη appears nowhere else, either in Scripture or any other literature, It's singular to the Annunciation. So is the grace attributed by the Archangel Gabriel to Mary, the Mother of God.

She is blessed beyond reckoning for her virtue and the task that God's commanded of her, to bear His Son into the world for our redemption. Jesus, "God Saves," both in Himself and by His actions, will come into the world through the Virgin's agency. The Word will be made Flesh for our salvation thanks to the assent of Mary's fiat, "I am the handmaid of the Lord, be it unto according to thy word."

Here we find a template or model of the Church writ large, the Mystical Body of Christ which bears the Savior into the world sacramentally. We see, too, a pattern which describes our own lives as Christians. God wants to be born and come alive in us because He loves us, and because He does He asks our permission to do so, as He asked Mary.

She says yes, with purity and humble, obedient, courageous faith. The weapons, when you think on it, which will crush the serpent's head. This is especially relevant now. 

Pray hard that we're given the grace to mirror Mary's quality of soul and for her powerful intercession that evil, darkness and deceit is driven far from us and from this country.

Ave Eva,

LSP

I Steal Your Face

Or would that be an election?

Your Pal,

LSP

Help Out Fella!

 

The day dawned brightly, with a slight mist and the sun picking up frost on the grass and fallen leaves. Yes, the climate had changed, but so uplifting. Better, to my mind, than living in the DFW metrosprawl where things seem less open and clean. That's the country for you, and more power to it.

Then, as I contemplated the pastoral idyll that is the Compound's backyard, the phone buzzed, "LSP, we need your help!" Huh, better get moving, and in a few minutes I was at the food bank, ready and waiting to do my bit to help suffering humanity.

It was chaos, of course, because a truck had come in with a massive amount of food and everyone was scrambling to store it away. In case you're interested, I ended up stacking pallets of canned corn onto an overflow trailer, which is a fine thing to do in the endeavor to fulfil the Gospel admonition, "I was hungry and you fed me." 

Speaking of which, the local foodbank's curiously undersubscribed. Shouldn't people be starving and desperate for their next meal in this horrendous plague year? You know, not able to get food because of the death that stalketh in the noon day? And lining up around the block for relief? Apparently not. Make of that what you will. Regardless, it was good to help out.

A trip to Walmart and a magazine gone to press later, it was time to drive to the lake and say Mass. Always a privilege, and a new family turned up with their five children, such a blessing. 

We celebrated afterwards with wine and cheese in the church hall, as the kids played in the nursery/playroom. Great result. And that, punters, is the story of that. 

I file this exciting story under God, Church and Country Life in Texas. And guns, obvs.

God bless,

LSP

Just Another Sunny Day in Texas

 

The day dawned clear and bright, yet another victory in our ongoing War Against The Weather (WATW). And praise God for it, Texas shouldn't be blessed with clement weather because it's failed to pay its Carbon Tax. 

Foolish rednecks, don't you know the sea will rise and Obama's mansion be flooded out if you don't cough up, cough up and play the game? Apparently not. That said, I made it safely through the rising floods of Global warming to the Compound.

Where pork hit heavy metal, and all was well, Iron Skillets forever. Well? Yes, but then there's the election which isn't well at all. How many of our Elite Millionaire Overlords are bought and paid for shills of the CCP, and who finances them?

Well, duh, no one, just a weird conspiracy theory, said everyone who bought and sold Solar Wind stock. Speaking of which, one of the many great things about today's Progressive Left is the way they back billionaire capitalists and war, all in the name of the "working man." Sorry, tranny.

Better get that right, you intolerant Nazi, and while you're at it, don't look at us getting fabulously richer than we already are as we bomb whoever into the ground. Speaking of which, the Left, which loves war and hates our country's workers, calls Trump a Nazi.

He's clearly not a National Socialist, despite having an ego the size of a Golden Tower, but what does that make you, his sworn, vote rigging enemies? Bolsheviks, and I'll fight that till the sun sets and the stars align.

Cheers,

LSP

Operation Tree

 

The drive to Dallas was easy. Roadworks, three lane to one lane traffic jams, and being stuck behind a Commie Jeep with COEXIST on its bumper. COEXIST? Idea being that all people of all religions can just agree to get along. Good call, sounds so reasonable.

But what if you worship the Owl God, Mictlāntēcutli, what then? Or Kali? What about that? Of course they never stop to ask the question, and so we drove on to Dallas.

Its towers were shrouded in mist, like the Andes, and so was the 'sprawl itself. I made it to Ma LSP's place by instinct. Right, left, forward, get to the objective. Which we did, and  the mission? Get a tree. Easier said than done. Hardly a fir to be found.

Still, we found one and set it up. It's gleaming now, like a colonizer. 

Friendsgiving Forever,

LSP

US Election Zappa Special!

 

Yes, that'd be all.

LSP

DFTR

 

I feel, yet again, that this is appropriate right about now.

Secret Treaties,

LSP

Well It's All Going On!

 

You may not have noticed the bizarre speed of the news cycle today, being in a state of shock and awe at the pyramid peak of chicanery, skulduggery, malfeasance and corruption our hanging-on-the-edge republic's sunk to. Fair play, I get that, but things are moving and moving fast.

I mean to say, AG Barr's resigned, don't say fired, CISA, heard of them?, ordered Federal Agencies & Co. to power down malignant software, including Solar Wind. That'd be the same Solar Wind Dominion Voting Systems (DVS) runs. DVS proceeded to delete Solar Wind and its client list from their webpage. 

An owl or: Just another stolen election, move along

Sorry, guys, archived and screenshot to Anon and back. Foreign interference in an election? Surely not, how could it be? Say the same fools who told us 45 was a Russian spy for years on end. Dam those Kremlins. But it goes on.

A Michigan judge ordered Antrim County's DVS voting machine forensic audit be made public. Michigan's Marxist legislature tried to keep the evidence under wraps, but it broke this morning. Verdict? Massive, mind-bending fraud. No wonder they wanted to keep the results on the down low. Fail, and multiply the result across the country. 

Typical if random ATVs

Undaunted, Michigan certified their electoral votes as they played something called the Black National Anthem, which obviously isn't racist, while blocking GOP electors from entering the building. Desperate, guys? Sorry, generic masculine = colonizer, I'll report myself. 

Friendsgiving aside, GOP electors in contested states such as GA, PA, AZ, NV, WI and on have called for 45, producing an officially contested election and dueling slates of electors. What does this mean, how will it play out?

I don't know, but I do know this. The race is fast and furious, some might get blown up, see Georgia, and some might hang if and when the trigger's pulled on '18 Executive Orders. High stakes, eh? 

The Monkey

That in mind, bets on and don't ask the aged monkey, he's useless, if steadily ferocious. As it is, neither Biden nor 3% Kamala have resigned their million dollar socialist profit seats in the Senate.

Your Call,

LSP

China Doll

Just a brief musical interlude in the midst of making tortillas. China doll fractured? Buck up! I'd be surprised if patriots would let this country be taken over by the dam CCP. Of course that remains to be seen.

Rock on,

LSP

Sunday Sermon

 

This short sermon for Gaudete Sunday is a photograph. Draw the parable as you see it.

Cheers,

LSP

Army & Navy

The crowd at the Army-Navy game greeted President Trump with “USA” Chants as he made his entrance 🇺🇸

pic.twitter.com/HPMpxNFk4L

— Benny (@bennyjohnson) December 12, 2020

There's a lot of talk right now about secession and civil war, which is understandable given two utterly opposed ideologies grinding it out in our polity. Democrats and their Republican friends in what amounts to a globalist, deep state, neocon Uniparty, hiding under a smokescreen of LGBTQ+1 agitprop and... people who dare to believe in the Republic of the Founding Fathers.

Utterly opposed. Note how the Uniparty slams the foundation of our country as 1619 racist oppressive while they take money from their totalitarian ChiCom overlords. Hypocrisy ain't in it. But that aside, for a civil war to occur there have to be two sides capable of offensive and defensive military action. Obviously.

Now, ask yourself how long 1000 or 10,000 radical Anarcho-Marxists or for that matter, Proud Boys, would last in a gunfight with what? a platoon of infantry with overwatch? You know, I know. About maybe less than a minute, give or take.

That in mind, consider 45's entrance into the Army & Navy game and ask yourself, which side are those boys on? 

Ad Astra,

LSP

There is Nothing to See Here - Move Along Comrade

 

There's obviously no truth whatsoever in any of the vicious rumors claiming, falsely, that China has some kind of "influence" over politicians in the United States of America.  This is a preposterous conspiracy theory and clearly disproven by photographic evidence.

Via CodeMonkeyZ:

Illinois Governor J.B. Pritzker with Chinese Consul General Zhao Jian

Oregon Governor Kate Brown with Chairman Xi

Montana Governor Steve Bullock with Chinese Ambassador Cui Tiankai

Idaho Governor Brad Little with Chinese Counselor Xu min

Kentucky Governor Andy Beshear with Chinese Minister Xu Xueyuan

Nevada Governor Steve Sisolak with Chinese Vice Consul General Ren Faqiang and wife Kathy Sisolak

New Mexico Governor Michelle Lujan Grisham with Chinese Vice Foreign Minister Zheng Zeguang

This is just a small sample of many photographs debunking the ridiculous assertion that our honest politicians are somehow influenced by Communist China. For more proof you can view CodeMonkey's "Governor Series" here. 

And while you're at it, California Congressman Eric Swalwell was in no way shape or form compromised by a Chinese spy. This too is an absurd and vicious rumor, as are nonsensical, deluded allegations that the Biden family somehow "profited" in an imaginary "pay to play" scheme with our business partners close friends and allies in Beijing.

Red Dawn,

LSP