Tuesday, October 19, 2021

Let's Go Brandon




Everything's Just Fine

Except that it's not. Standby, punters, for rough and stormy seas ahead. You might even want to lay in food, water and ammo. But what am I saying, you are already. Result, and don't worry, if it's not needed you can always give to the poor who are always with us.


Seriously, I'm getting a disaster vibe, not unlike early 2020. Remember, when we ran out of food and toilet paper? Amplify that by a factor of clown world insanity and do yourself a favor, get prepped up, sharpen that kukri.

In the meanwhile, Archbishop Vigano continues to rock. 

Your Best Friend,


Monday, October 18, 2021

Now You're Vax Dead


Colin Powell, our famous, heroic, selfless, honest, not in-it-for-profit general has died. He was 84. Powell was tragically killed in his dotage by the Wu-Flu or China Virus, which is really weird because he was vaccinated against it. 

And that's why we all have to get vaccinated, mandate style, because that'll stop us getting killed by the Bat Bug, just like the vax did for honest general Powell. Except that it didn't. Kyrie, are we at peak insanity? Apparently not.

Two Killers One Demon

In the meanwhile, why wasn't this honorable, truthful, honest general given exemption from the killer vax? You know, like Congress and Federal Judges or postal workers? Perhaps he would have survived the flu.

But maybe the octogenarian believed his own swampish marketing. And now he's dead. 

Remember, lest you judge, the repentant thief.

Your Pal,


Country Life


We were standing in a field, in the country. "Dam, LSP, with these clowns in charge anything could happen." Thus spoke my friend, a Master Plumber, and I agreed, "Ain't that the truth. Looks to me like the cheese slid off the cracker."

He didn't argue, "Slid off and fixin' to hit the ground." Spit, "Point being, I don't trust banks, 'specially with this $600 IRS bullsh*t. Don't want no part of that." Yes, and we gazed at the big Texan horizon and a pile of old T posts laying there nonchalantly in the sun while time slowed down.

"Thing is," I offered, remembering a bloodied monkey, "Put the cash in a safe and wake up and find USD$'s worth 2 Cents. That's great until it's not." My friend stared aggressively at a rusting pile of scrap iron, laying there under the glaring October sun, "I like the safe strategy, but there is that."

Another pause and a fat dove flew over, "Boom!" we went in tandem, airgunning cerulean, "If we were loaded up that'd be two misses, or maybe four dove. Limit out." My pal grinned through his Oakleys, "Gotta invest in something man, park that cash. Silver?"

My mind went back to a roll-on, a great weight of sterling and a ferocious simian, "I know all about that." Meanwhile, lazy birds flew overhead in the absence of flak and I thought fiduciary, "So where you gonna put that money, fella? How about DOGE$?"

A nod towards an horizon not long tamed, "I got that dog coin, and plenty of him. Not fixing to sell. Unloading Bit and Ether tho. Sell those coins. And it's all good as long we got phones."

"And internet?"


We thought about this and then wisdom opened the door, "You know the old country saying?" My friend turned his head, "What?" I replied, "They ain't making anymore land." Minds met as one, exactly. 

I file this exciting and true post under "country life" and "anything else I care to think about." Also under "concealed carry." Better safe than sorry, what?

Mind how you go,


Buttigeig Redux



Keen-eyed readers, all three of you, might remember a weirdly disturbing photo of our transport supremo in a hospital bed, holding a baby and looking at another man, also holding a baby. You'd be forgiven for thinking they were blasphemously mimicking something holy, a mother and her husband overjoyed at the birth of a child.

One glance tells you it's all wrong, there is no mother, there is no birth, nothing to warrant a hospital bed. This thing is a fake, an affair of the mind and a blasphemous parody.  But pay attention to detail, here's Katherine:

I've finally discovered what bothers me the most about that photo of these two guys and the babies. It's about them, not the children! They're gazing into each other's eyes, and the swaddled babies are props. Any new mother, in a similar photo, besides looking very tired, will be looking at her child!


Yes, it's all about them. Pride, gentlemen and gentlewomen, comes before a fall. We can imagine the magnitude of the approaching collapse. 



Sunday, October 17, 2021

All Religions Are Not The Same


Bernal Diaz describes his first impression of the Aztec capital Tenochtitlán, now Mexico City: 

And when we saw all those cities and villages built in the water, and other great towns on dry land, and that straight and level causeway leading to Mexico [i.e. Tenochtitlán], we were astounded. These great towns and cues [i.e., temples] and buildings rising from the water, all made of stone, seemed like an enchanted vision from the tale of Amadis. Indeed, some of our soldiers asked whether it was not all a dream. It is not surprising therefore that I should write in this vein. It was all so wonderful that I do not know how to describe this first glimpse of things never heard of, seen or dreamed of before...

At the heart of this enchanted city of some 300,000 people was a great temple, the Templo Mayor, surmounted by twin shrines to  Huitzilopochtli, the god of war, and Tlaloc, god of rain and agriculture. Diaz tells us the statues of the deities were encrusted with pearls, precious stones and gold, and that the walls of the shrine(s) "were so caked with blood and the floor so bathed in it that the stench was worse than that of any slaughter-house in Spain."

In front of the bloody pyramid, the scene of an estimated 20,000 yearly human sacrifices, rose the Huey Tzompantli, the Skull Wall or Skull Banner. This held the flayed, decapitated heads of the Aztecs' sacrificial victims. These were strung up between beams, rank on rank, in a kind of grisly abacus about the length of a basketball court. This was flanked at either end by a circular skull tower, approximately 6 meters in width and height.

Andres de Tapia, who served under Cortes, saw the Tzompantli and its accompanying skull towers. He loosely calculated the structures to hold 136,000 heads, and we can imagine him walking about the temple precinct, with its gardens, ornamental ponds, brilliantly feathered birds and a towering wall of human skulls. He must have had time on his hands to do the math.

Historians and anthropologists were in the habit of dismissing all of this as Conquistador propaganda, used to justify their bloodthirsty, colonial oppression and destruction of the Aztec culture. Then, uncomfortably, in 2015 and 2020 archeologists discovered the remains of the skull towers. Diaz, Tapia et al weren't lying.

You see, gentle readers, all religions are not the same, especially when one is a human sacrificing, cannibalist, demonic death cult.

God bless,


Archbishop Vigano Calls It


Unlike the rest of the hierarchy, Italian Archbishop Maria Vigano's no stranger to speaking truth to power. Here he is, via Gateway Pundit:

Archbishop Vigano: It now seems clear to me that we are facing a siege on both the social and religious front. The so-called emergency pandemic has been utilized as a false pretext to impose the vaccination and Green Pass in many nations of the world in a simultaneous and coordinated way… They support them in this wicked plan and go so far as to condemn those who do not accept being subjected to inoculation with an experimental gene serum, with unknown side effects, that does not impart any immunity from the virus, to say nothing of the moral implications related to the presence of genetic material derived from aborted fetuses, which for a Catholic is a more than sufficient reason to not receive the vaccine. We are at war, a war that is not openly declared, that is not fought with conventional weapons, but a war all the same… The alliance is not between state and church. But it is between the deep state and deep church.

Vigano goes on to declare, “The vaccine victims are sacrificed at the altar of Moloch.”


We are at war, a war that is not openly declared, that is not fought with conventional weapons, but a war all the same. Yes, a war which is won under the standard of the Cross.

In related news, why are these two kooks in a hospital bed? Because science, which proves men can have babies even though they can't. But they can have paternity leave while the nation's transport system falls apart.

Word on the street is that truckers aren't too keen on delivering to vax mandate devil states. Who knows, perhaps Pete Buttgig and his... wife will learn how to make their own baby formula as the supply chain collapses. I hope so, for the sake of the children.



Saturday, October 16, 2021

Saturday Sermon


Jesus says to his disciples, who were annoyingly busy fighting among themselves over their respective positions of power in the  coming Kingdom, "For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” (Mk. 10:45)

Christ does so on the Cross, the throne of his sovereignty, by which he exercises dominion over sin and death, opening the gates of heaven to the faithful and inaugurating the Kingdom. I found this, by the Anglican bishop NT Wright helpful:

We have, alas, belittled the cross, imagining it merely as a mechanism for getting us off the hook of our own petty naughtiness or as an example of some general benevolent truth. It is much, much more. It is the moment when the story of Israel reaches its climax; the moment when, at last, the watchmen on Jerusalem’s walls see their God coming in his kingdom; the moment when the people of God are renewed so as to be, at last, the royal priesthood who will take over the world not with the love of power but with the power of love; the moment when the kingdom of God overcomes the kingdoms of the world. It is the moment when a great old door, locked and barred since our first disobedience, swings open suddenly to reveal not just the garden, opened once more to our delight, but the coming city, the garden city that God had always planned and is now inviting us to go through the door and build with him. The dark power that stood in the way of this kingdom vision has been defeated, overthrown, rendered null and void. 


The dark power that stood in the way of this kingdom vision has been defeated, overthrown, rendered null and void. Yes, powerful, though I'd change "garden city" to "heavenly Jerusalem."

That aside, how easy it is to be a porch warrior or for that matter an armchair Christian. Our Savior demands more, we're to take up our cross and follow him, entirely. 

In the end, all will be asked of us. Pray that with James and John we will, by the grace of God, say yes and that by loving as Christ loved us find greatness in the Kingdom of God. And know that the demons, to say nothing of their temporal allies flee before the sign and the life of those who live in Christ crucified.

In Hoc Signo,


Friday, October 15, 2021


I was moved by this at several levels, and perhaps you will be too. Respect to Col. Collins, the RIR and all who fought. No comment, except to say that the people who ordered this war for their profit, sitting safe in their millionaire socialist mansions and private jets have blood on their hands. Not least that of true patriots, our soldiers. 

No amount of hiding behind trans bathrooms, statue destruction and astroturf anti-racism can hide their crimes. When judgement comes, and it will, the result will be brutal. The Great Flood.

Now, take the Colonel's words forward.

Your Old Pal,


Thursday, October 14, 2021

As You Were

People think the West is dead, that'd be an error.

Stand steady,


Bow Jihad


Just when you thought 2021 couldn't get more weird and unhinged, a crazed convert to Islam went full Bow Jihad in Norway, killing five people in downtown Kongsberg last night. Yes, Bow Jihad, the Moslem fanatic killed four women and one man with his bow.

According to Norwegian tabloid Verdens Gang the Mohammedan killer is a 37 year Dane who lived in Norway his "whole life" and hadn't worked since the early 2000s. 

Police are attempting to find a motive for the killings, which couldn't be anything to do with a meteorite worshiping Moon cult because Islam's a religion of peace. Like a desert version of Buddhism but way, way more peaceful.

But how big is the Bow Jihad, how many unemployed Danes are lurking unknown in their koranic lairs, how to id the enemy? Good question. Here at the Compound we advise Norway to set up a series of DrawMo contests, irresistible to the Islamic archer, and then sit back and watch the problem meet its solution. Arrow, meet bullet.

In the meanwhile, stand by for anguished cries of "Islamophobia!" as yet another Moslem proves how peaceful the religion of Mohammad the warlord really is.



Wednesday, October 13, 2021



Lightning cracks across the sky, turning night to day as thunder crashes down like a barrage of guns on the Oder, shaking the house with elemental fury. Our Old Enemy the Weather is at it again. Dauntless, I stood on the porch, braving the lashing rain to do its worst. 

"Do your worst, Weather!" I thundered from the safety of the Compound's spacious, safe, historic and well constructed porch, "Monetize all the debt you like, you green mountebank, but we're not falling for your corporate Bolshevik ponzi."

Ferox, but our enemy ignored me entirely and continued to bombard this once prosperous farming community with a deluge of rain, sky water. What will tomorrow bring? Discarded weaves, needles, cast off Dicky's BBQ beakers, the broken fragments of a child's toy, all that and more floating in a poisonous backflow effluent of broken drains. 


A parable? Perhaps. In the meanwhile, smart people are sharpening kukris, loading mags, laying in supplies and praying hard for angelic and divine aid. My feeling is that we'll need it in the coming years.

Your Friend,


Tuesday, October 12, 2021

You Wicked Old Fake


Is our Beloved Leader an utter fraud, a fake? Have a look, here he is getting a "booster shot." Convincing, isn't it. Look, here he is "campaigning."

Compelling, right? And 81 million votes agree, the most ever in any election in our history, and all for Biden because he's so very, very charismatic and popular. Why, then, are people chanting this.

"Go On Brandon." Mystifying, eh?



Mandate Madness


For some weird, unfathomable reason pilots and air traffic controllers aren't too keen on getting the vax as commanded, mandated, by our Beloved Leader.

But EMS workers love being ordered to get the vax. Just kidding, they hate it. It's even rumored our troops aren't too happy about being ordered to get the jab or get a dishonorable discharge. Yes, it's bizarre, but they don't seem to like this.

What brazen, literal, treasonous, sedition. Our popular and loved rulers, who are sacrificially exempt from the vax, clearly have one option and only one. They must arrest these domestic terrorists. For the good of the people. 

Be patient, this will take time. Our patriotic Stasi must first round up the January insurrectionists, and all so-called "parents" who dare question the authority of the State Schools. Be assured, all dissent will be crushed.

Seriously, we've come to this? No planes, 911 or military, to say nothing of nurses, doctors, police and firefighters all on account of greed, lust for power and political posturing? Apparently we have. But at what point will the political pandemic become politically inexpedient. Will our rulers back down or triple down?

You, the reader, be the judge,


Monday, October 11, 2021

Columbus Day


The same people who love obedience masks, enforced vaccines which don't vaccinate you, trans bathrooms, labeling parents who care about their kids' education "domestic terrorists" and on, also hate Christopher Columbus, as they hate all our cultural heroes. This makes me want to love him.

He was, after all, a great explorer and navigator who boldly went where no man, pretty much, had been before. Piri Reis and Maps of the Ancient Sea Kings aside, Columbus was breaking new ground when he set sail. Not unlike, when you think of it, space exploration today. No small thing to sail an uncharted Atlantic. Bold stuff.

So here at the Compound we celebrated with lunch at Montes Mexican diner. The Specialist ordered a hearty plate of Pinta Brisket Gorditas and I stuck with traditional Santa Maria Huevos Rancheros. Tasty as you like and then some, all washed down with strong Nina Covfefe. 

Then it was time to drive to Fort Hood and back again, a bold, courageous exercise in navigating I35 and the personally uncharted territories of Waco. A journey of exploration if you like, and not bad for it.

But seriously, put yourself in the place of Columbus, sailing off into the unknown. Driven by ambition and the hope of gain, yes; after all, who doesn't want to be Governor of, ahem, Cuba. But also by adventure, perhaps the sheer life and death risk of the thing. And for him, at least, faith in the Savior he served, albeit imperfectly. 

That in mind, it's a good day to celebrate and if our trending tofu Maoists don't like it, too bad. They can speak to the monkey.



Sunday, October 10, 2021

Ad Vesperum



Großer Gott, wir loben dich

God bless you all,


PS. Vastly looking forward to the powerful and needed return of Consistory Courts. Yes, I will take on this burden, with the help of LL as Vicar General.

A Short Sunday Sermon


"And Jesus looking upon him loved him, and said to him, “You lack one thing; go, sell what you have, and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” (Mk 10:21) Says Christ to the rich young man, and note, our Savior "loved him." Why? Perhaps because he sought spiritual perfection. 

Regardless, Jesus gives him the key. Be truly righteous, obedient to the Law, and give all that you have for the love of God and neighbor. And then you will have treasure in heaven as you follow Christ to Calvary and from there to eternal life. The man is grieved and walks away, for he had "great possessions."

And so to us; Christ looks down from the Cross in love and asks us to follow him. What holds us back, what earthly store of value locks us into the temporal at the expense of the heavenly? Is it wealth, literal cash with all the things it represents, is that where our heart lies? Remember, sinner, ye cannot serve God and Mammon. Or perhaps it's food, drink and beyond. 

What aspect of the world, the flesh, and by extension the Devil, do we set our hearts on at the expense of life? To cut to the quick, who do we love, ourselves or God.

We must decide, and in that choice, that act of will, lies the difference between Heaven and Hell, life and death, salvation and perdition. I say again, on this choice hangs our eternal destiny.

Choose well, punters, in the power of the Spirit and by the grace of God, so that in following Christ on the way to the Cross we may be raised with and in him to everlasting life. And remember, it's harder for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of Heaven than a camel to pass through the eye of a needle.



Saturday, October 9, 2021



And That's Just The Start

We've come to this critical part of the evening where we're talking loadout. What can and should you carry when SHTF in an EOTW scenario or even, kyrie, actual warfare. What do you carry and how heavy should it be?

Current US doctrine says something in the region of >100 Lbs, plus water, ammo, helmet, yet more ammo, weapon and all the rest. Very, very heavy. Maybe as heavy as the fighter himself. So there you have all these guys humping at least 100 Lbs of stuff around. Nightmare, you're so heavy you can't operate, to say nothing of no knees in the future.

So whaddya do? Stash the unnecessary kit in a hole somewhere, a "cache," and march on with what you actually need. Point being, take what you need. Maybe that's just an FN and some stupidly short shorts.

All this in mind, no, I did not go running with an 80 Lb load the other day, but I did cook some delicious mac cheese. Yum. Caveat, fall upon your enemies and destroy them utterly.

Travel Light,


Friday, October 8, 2021



Why is Texas so awesome? Perhaps because of its light and sky, which point to higher things, a vast frontier with all the freedom therein. That said, I35's a nightmare in the Waco chokehold. Get 'round that by exiting the highway and taking 84 through what's left of town to 6 and rejoining 35 from there. Presto, you've missed the hideous traffic jam.

In other news, the POC who shot up a school in metrosprawl Arlington has been released from jail on a 75k bond, as opposed to the Kenosha Kid who shot 3 skateboard revolutionaries in self-defense and spent months in prison and's on a $2 million bond.  Such systemic white privilege. Don't say whitewashed sepulchers of Pharisaical grift, corruption and malfeasance. 

Speaking of privilege, my eldest's been running around the local park, he's on an incredibly racist Columbus Day weekend pass, with something like 80 Lbs weight, maybe more. "Easy, tiger," I urged with paternal affection, "Don't hurt yourself." But what can I say, the youth of today.


Thursday, October 7, 2021



We beat back Mohammad's Sea Jihad today, thanks to the miraculous intercession of the Blessed Ever Virgin Mary and her Rosary. A huge victory, and Western civilization was saved against the demonic Moslem horde. Here's some poetry:

White founts falling in the courts of the sun,
And the Soldan of Byzantium is smiling as they run;
There is laughter like the fountains in that face of all men feared,
It stirs the forest darkness, the darkness of his beard,
It curls the blood-red crescent, the crescent of his lips,
For the inmost sea of all the earth is shaken with his ships.
They have dared the white republics up the capes of Italy,
They have dashed the Adriatic round the Lion of the Sea,
And the Pope has cast his arms abroad for agony and loss,
And called the kings of Christendom for swords about the Cross,
The cold queen of England is looking in the glass;
The shadow of the Valois is yawning at the Mass;
From evening isles fantastical rings faint the Spanish gun,
And the Lord upon the Golden Horn is laughing in the sun.

Dim drums throbbing, in the hills half heard,
Where only on a nameless throne a crownless prince has stirred,
Where, risen from a doubtful seat and half attainted stall,
The last knight of Europe takes weapons from the wall,
The last and lingering troubadour to whom the bird has sung,
That once went singing southward when all the world was young,
In that enormous silence, tiny and unafraid,
Comes up along a winding road the noise of the Crusade.
Strong gongs groaning as the guns boom far,
Don John of Austria is going to the war,
Stiff flags straining in the night-blasts cold
In the gloom black-purple, in the glint old-gold,
Torchlight crimson on the copper kettle-drums,
Then the tuckets, then the trumpets, then the cannon, and he comes.
Don John laughing in the brave beard curled,
Spurning of his stirrups like the thrones of all the world,
Holding his head up for a flag of all the free.
Love-light of Spain—hurrah!
Death-light of Africa!
Don John of Austria
Is riding to the sea.

Mahound is in his paradise above the evening star,
(Don John of Austria is going to the war.)
He moves a mighty turban on the timeless houri’s knees,
His turban that is woven of the sunset and the seas.
He shakes the peacock gardens as he rises from his ease,
And he strides among the tree-tops and is taller than the trees,
And his voice through all the garden is a thunder sent to bring
Black Azrael and Ariel and Ammon on the wing.
Giants and the Genii,
Multiplex of wing and eye,
Whose strong obedience broke the sky
When Solomon was king.

They rush in red and purple from the red clouds of the morn,
From temples where the yellow gods shut up their eyes in scorn;
They rise in green robes roaring from the green hells of the sea
Where fallen skies and evil hues and eyeless creatures be;
On them the sea-valves cluster and the grey sea-forests curl,
Splashed with a splendid sickness, the sickness of the pearl;
They swell in sapphire smoke out of the blue cracks of the ground,—
They gather and they wonder and give worship to Mahound.
And he saith, “Break up the mountains where the hermit-folk can hide,
And sift the red and silver sands lest bone of saint abide,
And chase the Giaours flying night and day, not giving rest,
For that which was our trouble comes again out of the west.
We have set the seal of Solomon on all things under sun,
Of knowledge and of sorrow and endurance of things done,
But a noise is in the mountains, in the mountains, and I know
The voice that shook our palaces—four hundred years ago:
It is he that saith not ‘Kismet’; it is he that knows not Fate ;
It is Richard, it is Raymond, it is Godfrey in the gate!
It is he whose loss is laughter when he counts the wager worth,
Put down your feet upon him, that our peace be on the earth.”
For he heard drums groaning and he heard guns jar,
(Don John of Austria is going to the war.)
Sudden and still—hurrah!
Bolt from Iberia!
Don John of Austria
Is gone by Alcalar.

St. Michael’s on his mountain in the sea-roads of the north
(Don John of Austria is girt and going forth.)
Where the grey seas glitter and the sharp tides shift
And the sea folk labour and the red sails lift.
He shakes his lance of iron and he claps his wings of stone;
The noise is gone through Normandy; the noise is gone alone;
The North is full of tangled things and texts and aching eyes
And dead is all the innocence of anger and surprise,
And Christian killeth Christian in a narrow dusty room,
And Christian dreadeth Christ that hath a newer face of doom,
And Christian hateth Mary that God kissed in Galilee,
But Don John of Austria is riding to the sea.
Don John calling through the blast and the eclipse
Crying with the trumpet, with the trumpet of his lips,
Trumpet that sayeth ha!
      Domino gloria!
Don John of Austria
Is shouting to the ships.

King Philip’s in his closet with the Fleece about his neck
(Don John of Austria is armed upon the deck.)
The walls are hung with velvet that is black and soft as sin,
And little dwarfs creep out of it and little dwarfs creep in.
He holds a crystal phial that has colours like the moon,
He touches, and it tingles, and he trembles very soon,
And his face is as a fungus of a leprous white and grey
Like plants in the high houses that are shuttered from the day,
And death is in the phial, and the end of noble work,
But Don John of Austria has fired upon the Turk.
Don John’s hunting, and his hounds have bayed—
Booms away past Italy the rumour of his raid
Gun upon gun, ha! ha!
Gun upon gun, hurrah!
Don John of Austria
Has loosed the cannonade.

The Pope was in his chapel before day or battle broke,
(Don John of Austria is hidden in the smoke.)
The hidden room in man’s house where God sits all the year,
The secret window whence the world looks small and very dear.
He sees as in a mirror on the monstrous twilight sea
The crescent of his cruel ships whose name is mystery;
They fling great shadows foe-wards, making Cross and Castle dark,
They veil the plumèd lions on the galleys of St. Mark;
And above the ships are palaces of brown, black-bearded chiefs,
And below the ships are prisons, where with multitudinous griefs,
Christian captives sick and sunless, all a labouring race repines
Like a race in sunken cities, like a nation in the mines.
They are lost like slaves that sweat, and in the skies of morning hung
The stair-ways of the tallest gods when tyranny was young.
They are countless, voiceless, hopeless as those fallen or fleeing on
Before the high Kings’ horses in the granite of Babylon.
And many a one grows witless in his quiet room in hell
Where a yellow face looks inward through the lattice of his cell,
And he finds his God forgotten, and he seeks no more a sign—
(But Don John of Austria has burst the battle-line!)
Don John pounding from the slaughter-painted poop,
Purpling all the ocean like a bloody pirate’s sloop,
Scarlet running over on the silvers and the golds,
Breaking of the hatches up and bursting of the holds,
Thronging of the thousands up that labour under sea
White for bliss and blind for sun and stunned for liberty.
Vivat Hispania!
Domino Gloria!
Don John of Austria
Has set his people free!

Cervantes on his galley sets the sword back in the sheath
(Don John of Austria rides homeward with a wreath.)
And he sees across a weary land a straggling road in Spain,
Up which a lean and foolish knight forever rides in vain,
And he smiles, but not as Sultans smile, and settles back the blade....
(But Don John of Austria rides home from the Crusade.)

Vivat Hispania! Domino Gloria! Don John of Austria has set his people free! Yes. And let's have Constantinople back. We need the Bosphorus. 

Ave Maria gratia plena,


Tuesday, October 5, 2021

Sweet Home

Rock on,




Vermont has the highest vax rate in the US, with over 69% of its serfs vaxxed up, which is really weird coz the vax vaccinates you from the CCP virus and protects you from it. But it doesn't, so you'd better get the vax to flatten the curve, stop the spread, make Pharma richer, buy your, hahaha, "elected representatives" another mansion and or jet and you, the peasant, another slice of lockdown.

What gets me about the whole thing is how quickly and pretty much without protest, everyone put on their masks and knuckled down. In other news, don't you dare protest Marxist school boards for CRT, because that'd be domestic terr*rism. Just ask the FBLie. 

So how do we sort this out? See LL's helpful post on prison hulks and imagine them, resting at anchor on the Potomac. Beltway Bandits/LCS? Problem, solution.

Your Old Friend,


Monday, October 4, 2021

Monday Madness


I've heard Albertans are fleeing the Province.

Why would that be?

And they're moving to Texas. Yes, the FREE STATE.

Your Pal,


Sunday, October 3, 2021

Sunday Reflection


Hope you're all having a beautiful Sunday, worshipping God and having fun. What is it people do here, go out for Sunday brunch? How delicious and I'd enjoy it too but can't because of Mass #2. Oh well.

In other news, it seems China's occupied Bagram AFB, which we abandoned to our frenemies the Taliban. Via Zero:

Months ago, Bagram Air Base became center stage of the calamitous withdrawal of U.S. forces from Afghanistan. Since then, foreign policy experts have opined that it will unveil the next act of that tragedy in welcoming growing Chinese interest in Afghanistan. Now, the page has been seemingly turned onto that chapter. This morning, it appears the next stage of that plan may be unfolding following multiple confirmed reports of planes landing at the airfield across social media and mainstream outlets.

Speaking of which, do you remember our highest ranking general telling the world that he opened backdoor channels with China, promising to inform their leaders of any impending hostile US action? That's right, the same General Milley who instructs junior officers to read books on French pastry cooking while rainbow wondering about "white rage." What. A. Traitorous. Old. Fraud.

Milley Center

Chicaney aside, how big, do you think, was this uniformed, bemedalled, mountebank's pay-off?

Your Old Pal,


Saturday, October 2, 2021



What! I looked at the phone and it looked at me, broken and shattered like a mute parable of the state of our nation. Seriously, what isn't broken right about now. Our governance, borders, elections, finance, and all that it is to come together as a country; who we are as a nation?

Shattered glass aside, I went into the T Mobile shop to get a fix for the phone I'd foolishly dropped the night before, "I need a new phone, this one's glass is shattered like the state of Union itself."

Bonnie Blue

Of course they could have got right on it but here's the thing, I was invisible to their system, off grid. No kidding, no IMEI, no social, no name, no nothing, the manager wasn't even allowed, by the system, to access my account. "What do you actually do?" he asked, "That," I replied, "is a very good question."

We looked at each other in a moment of understanding. "Look, man, all I want to do is sell you a phone, at the right price." I thought for a moment, "Yes, that's what I want too, we think as one." And we did.

Sure, it took a while, but in that time we talked of late antiquity, the ruins of Rome in the 6th century, Detroit, architecture as a reflection of the soul of a nation and how we're sadly wanting in that regard, and so much more besides.


As time went interminably call-center on I amused myself by marching about the store and saluting, Brit style, various icons, images of phones. "Eyes Left!" Quite the drill movement, to say nothing of about turn on the march and let me tell you, all were impressed. As in open order, right dress! Ahem.

Militarist gymnastics over I checked out with a brand new nicely discounted phone, and learned that the manager of the shop's cousin(?) was a Captain and that his store associate had just left Ft. Hood after 4 years of service. 

She told me, "I cried when I left." She loved Ft. Hood and the Army and has serious disabilities to contend with. "I will pray for you," I offered, and meant it wholeheartedly. 

What a good store. I love these people and wish them well. By the left.

Your Old Friend,