Sunday, July 31, 2022

The Leafy Glens Of Old Texas


It's a beautiful summer Saturday morning in North Central Texas, so what do you do? What you always do, stroll down sylvan streets to the Pick 'n Steal, aka "Gas Station" for a cheap coffee refill. As you do, reflect on the trees and the generous wisdom of the people who planted them.

Good to look at? Yes, beauty's important. Allies? For sure, they turn persynkind's ancient enemy, Carbon Dioxide, into life giving Oxygen. Oh yes, our friends in the War on the Weather, but more than this, they give us shade.

Don't laugh, this is important when the sun sears down like an incinerating laser. Step into the shade of a tree and feel the drop in temperature; trees make the oven bearable, and that's partly why they planted them. Not just for good looks or their facility for hanging criminals, but as a natural cooling system.

That in mind, why did the genius patrol who run this place chop down all the trees leading up to the Square? Yes, they left the Hanging Trees standing at the courthouse but pretty much everything else had to go.  Their roots messed up the sidewalk, they claimed. Chop them down.

why do you hate trees, 1st Baptist?

Net result? A sun blasted parade square of concrete on the approach to the halls of justice. Walk it at your peril. Did someone profit off the replacement of beautiful cooling trees with hideously ugly hot concrete? Surely not. 

Stay Frosty,


Friday, July 29, 2022

Brothers Morale High

What's this weird rumor, that US PMC people are subcontracting to Wagner? Wild West or 18th C and then some.

Your Old Pal,



Thursday, July 28, 2022

Rivers of Texas


We had a ranch on the Red River, no more alas, but I get to fish the mighty Brazos and I love that.

All hail Texas,




A Tahoe screamed around the corner, sirens wailing in the morning heat, a bust in progress but no big deal, happens. Then more sirens, this thing's escalating and I stood up in the front office, aka "porch" to see the action.

Lo and behold, Old D drives by the house, going slow in his beat up Toyota, followed by three more Tahoes full of sound and fury. "Pull over, fella," I thought to myself, "Stop blocking the road and let the cops take out the meth dealer 'round the corner."

D duly turns the corner, pulls into his driveway and bang, the posse screeches to a halt and it's Glocks out, get away from the vehicle! D does this quietly and gets taken to jail, for he was the perpetrator. But what had he done?

Gotten into a crazy verbal with someone at a fast food joint? Accused a random stranger of being in danger of hellfire at the Brookshires? Delivered an end times Alex Jones rant at Tractor Supply before running out on the store with an unpaid bag of cat food? All likely scenarios, but no, it seems his crime was failing to register his vehicle and then failing to stop when the LEO son et lumière began. D was scared and freaked out, apparently.

He's been charged with evading arrest, $5000 bail, and I like the guy. Crazy? Yes. Dangerous? No. In need of help? Most definitely, and I offered to do what I could. In the meanwhile, real, dangerous, evil criminals walk free down the marbled corridors of power, to say nothing of this town's drug dealers.

Look. A Crook

That said, couldn't the above deal have been handled differently?  Especially in a place where people know each other? Well, there it is, and I file this tale of crime and punishment under Country Life in Texas.



Wednesday, July 27, 2022



One of the many benefits of the rural, bucolic Texan haven that is LSPland is that you get to look at local architecture after dropping off the rig for its yearly inspection at Tom's Tire. 

Look how the wooden roof shingles on this derelict have survived. I like that, but you can imagine its price in, say, Toronto, Austin or twin city San Francisco:

note shingles

Roofing reverie over, it's a short stroll along the leafy boulevards of this Texan farming community to the old jail and court house, which was built in the 1890s and admirably protected by steel shutters. Its modern equivalent would be a windowless slab of dun colored brick, pierced by bulletproof slits. My, how we've devolved.


Regardless, the jail's protected by a fierce junkyard dog and has a Liberty Tree, seeded from an Ash in Eisenhower's home town. And then, before melting in the searing, ovenlike heat of a July morning, you amble over to Montes for a late breakfast.

Fierce Dog!

Montes, now "Ya-Ya's," is blissfully cool, blinded and silent, it's just too hot for extraneous noise. So you sit there checking out Russkie Telegram channels while Ya Ya brings the right stuff. Huevos Rancheros, eggs over easy on corn tortillas with their hot rancheros sauce, refried beans, fried potatoes and homemade flour tortillas. What a feast.

Breakfast Time

Then return to Tom's, pay a massive fee of $7, pick up the truck, spin over to the court house annex where they're spraying the doors with disinfectant because science and register your vehicle. Easy. What a pleasant morning and so much less hassle than doing the same thing in the Metrosprawl.

shadow LSP

Country life forever,


Sunday, July 24, 2022

Cheap Trick


Cheap trick? What, Kamala Harris, our government? No, just the band. Here they are, live at Budokan:

Rock on,


A Short Sunday Reflection


"I say old chap," I announced breezily to the Crucifer as we were getting ready for Mass at Mission #2, "Did you know the gerontocrat in nominal charge of our country has promised us a green, electric military by 2030?"

"No, I did not know that," replied the Crucifer, a retired artillery Captain (Vietnam) and active oil and gas analyst. "Well he has, said so in April on Earth Day. And it's all well and good until they run out of charging stations, what?"

My friend, a practical man who went to Yale when it was still a university, frowned and thought for a moment, "That's easy, they'll just bring up charging trucks with generators. Yes, generators running on gasoline." We chuckled, said our prayers and the Sacred Mysteries were celebrated in good order. 

Not the Crucifer, obvs, just a Texan assisting Mass

You know, not so long ago, back in the aughts, I'd have raised an eyebrow if you'd told me I'd be with a couple of mission churches in rural Texas. But I tell you what, it's been a real blessing and, curiously enough, by far and away the most diverse congregation(s) I've served, certainly the most intellectual.

What a blessing, farmers and ranchers, rodeo stars even, to people who make a living from the life of the mind, who write books as if by muscle memory. And all coming together to worship God as one.

I love that,


Saturday, July 23, 2022

Sic Transit


You'll note Imperial Ladies aloft. Regardless, the Corsican Upstart ended his days on an island in the South Atlantic, his vaunted Grande  Armée smashed and defeated at Waterloo. So much for Boney.

His beautiful and gorgeous Empress Josephine died in 1814, a year before her philandering, adulterous Emperor was utterly and irrevocably defeated by the Iron Duke. Her last words, allegedly spoken through black and rotting teeth were, "Bonaparte … Elba … the King of Rome."

There is, if you care to draw it, a moral in this tale,


The New Green Military

Did you know that the US military, the most powerful, deadly armed force the world has ever seen, is going green as well as trans? That's right, green, environmentally friendly, leading the way to net zero carbon emissions and the well being of Gaia, fragile planet earth. How?

By divesting its destructive power from killer fossil fuel and making its war machines run on electricity. Our beloved and popular Commander-in-Chief promised as much in April, on Earth Day. Here he is, Old Uncle Joe himself, "Every vehicle in the United States military is going to be climate-friendly. We're spending billions of dollars to do it." 

Leaving aside the canting hypocrisy of an environmentally friendly war machine, step back in awe as 7.62 plants poppies, consider the prospect of a future war. A near peer-to-peer conflict with China in the Pacific and Russia in Europe.

Imagine, ChiComs and Russkies roll over the start line with their binary gender macro aggression, non-pronoun armies, and we rainbow trans roll out to meet them. A ferocious clash of arms ensues; we do well, Western green tech is better than their Sov inspired rubbish. But then... disaster!

Right there, perhaps on the steppes of the Ukraine itself, we run out of charging stations for our tanks, IFVs, self-propelled guns, tracked air defense, mobile artillery, trucks, MWRAPS, MLRS. All of it, the whole nine yards grinds to a halt because there aren't electric outlets on the field of battle. Oh dear.

By its own admission, the Biden administration's going to spend billions of dollars on this puerile, risible, corrupt, dropped-on-head-as-infant idiocy, which is bad enough. In the meanwhile, the US Army's received one electric Humvee, "It has more than 1,000 horsepower, and 11,500 pound-feet of wheel torque, allowing it to achieve 0-60 mph in 3 seconds." Here's a photo:

Hmmmm. I kinda want one.



Friday, July 22, 2022



The US Military's suffering from a grievous lack of recruits across all branches, but the Army's worst hit with only 40% of its recruitment goals met this year. Go figure, why would patriots want to join Biden's trans theater group collective? 

Ramzan Kadyrov is just one of many mocking our rainbow transition to soft power. Can you blame him? Via Telegram:

Here they are, NATO warriors! 🤣 👗 👠

We are trapped to fight with them. Give us a normal opponent, so that he was courageous, so that we could tell our grandchildren how scary and dangerous he was. And what is this? Who is this? How can I tell my grandchildren about them? 🙊

- Granddaughter, the enemy was funny and not dangerous, painted, of indeterminate gender...

- Grandfather, did you fight with aliens?

- If only, granddaughter, if only...

I'm even ashamed to talk about them and tell them in my channel. How to aim at them? It's such a shame. Imagine a battlefield where such a decorated creature is running at you, with a Louis Vuitton backpack, rhinestones on a picatinny rail and stilettos, and you close your eyes and shoot at him blindly, because you can't see it!

But seriously, it is these "values" that the West is trying to propagandize on all fronts. This forced imposition has already borne fruit in Ukraine, look at the official accounts of Nezalezhnaya in social networks, publications of their official media. Everything is saturated with this vile idea. Do you think we will become the same as these...

Ugh! 😗 💦

This will never happen. That is why we should be grateful to our President and his Team, who maintain a strict foreign and domestic policy to prevent the degradation of society. We protect natural, healthy, clear human values.

We want children to have a FATHER and MOTHER, so that their psyche from childhood was not traumatized, but was healthy, strong, balanced. And it will be. ☝🏼 ☝🏼 ☝🏼

We have crossed the Rubicon and will resist abomination and Satanism to the bitter end.


typical failed US Army recruitment idiocy

Resist abomination and Satanism to the bitter end. Whoa, lest you be quick to scorn the Chechen warlord for hyperbole and exaggeration remember that Baphomet's notoriously trans. Which begs the question.

What side is NATO, in effect the US, really on? As always, you be the judge.



Thursday, July 21, 2022

Man On The Moon


53 years ago yesterday, Neil Armstrong set foot on the Moon. "One small step for man, one giant step for mankind." I remember the day. Morning in Milwaukee at the Campus Rectory, my dad was a UWM chaplain, and my parents called me in, "Look at this, son!" And I did, a flickering black and white image of a man on the Moon, history in the making. Quite a thing.

Of course Neil Armstrong wouldn't be able to say "man" and "mankind" today because patriarchal oppression. By the same token, we haven't really been back to the Moon and no wonder, we've devolved to such an extent that we're unable to define "man" and "woman." Is that a first? Perhaps.

Speaking of which, world leaders are Bastille Day laughing at us. Wonder why. At some point, maybe soon, narrative will flounder on the rocky shore of reality.

Watch my tracer,


Wednesday, July 20, 2022

This is the Dawning of the Age of Aquarius


81 million people voted for this aged, corrupt buffoon. Except that they didn't, still, many millions did. Whatev, we can all enjoy the Age of Aquarius.

The 5th Dimension Age of Aquarius 1969 

Rock on,


Tuesday, July 19, 2022

Dallas On The Skids

What's it like in Dallas, you know, before midnight? It has skaters, so important to keep fit

It has shopping too

And affordable housing

Sometimes shopping and housing come together in a kind of ne'er do well, corrupt symphony

And there you have it,


Monday, July 18, 2022

A Bit Chilly


Here we are in Texas and it's a bit chilly, with temps pushing 110*. Brrrr. So what do you do? Go out on a recce and notice the streets are empty, yes, the road is your own. And what a road, lying there under an unrelenting sun.

March or die, I thought, putting one foot in front of the other. Do. Not. Give. Up. Ever. Back at the Compound, which has air, I reflected on this wisdom. Whoever said life'd be easy? I recall no such promise.

In related news, UK airports are shutting down because planes are getting stuck in melting asphalt, think tar babies. Thanks a lot, GRU.



Sunday, July 17, 2022

Sunday Mass


For the first time in over a year I took a Sunday off and went to Mass in Dallas, at St. Matthias. "Smokey Matt's" is a traditional Anglo-Catholic church with an oriented liturgy, faithful priests and a down to earth, goodhearted congregation. Great people.

The previous Rector was sent there, he tells me, "to shut the place down," but he didn't, he grew the parish instead and quite literally built it. More than this, under his guidance, the church bought its way out from under pharaonic captivity to the Rainbow Church of Woken Dreams and the Diocese of Dallas. It now lives within the green pastures and still waters of the Diocese of Fort Worth. Result.

Fr. Dwight, Deacon of the Mass, gave an entertaining and true homily on today's Gospel, Martha and Mary. Without Mary's listening to Christ in love, in prayer, our active service becomes brittle at best and we run the risk of becoming "dried out activists." Yes indeed. Here's Benedict XVI on the same passage in Luke:

Martha and Mary are two sisters; they also have a brother, Lazarus, but he does not appear on this occasion. Jesus is passing through their village and, the text says, Martha received him at her home (cf. 10: 38). This detail enables us to understand that Martha is the elder of the two, the one in charge of the house. Indeed, when Jesus has been made comfortable, Mary sits at his feet and listens to him while Martha is totally absorbed by her many tasks, certainly due to the special Guest.

We seem to see the scene: one sister bustling about busily and the other, as it were, enraptured by the presence of the Teacher and by his words. A little later Martha, who is evidently resentful, can no longer resist and complains, even feeling that she has a right to criticize Jesus: "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me". Martha would even like to teach the Teacher! Jesus on the other hand answers her very calmly: "Martha, Martha", and the repetition of her name expresses his affection, "you are anxious and troubled about many things; only one thing is needful. Mary has chosen the good portion, which shall not be taken away from her" (10: 41-42). Christ's words are quite clear: there is no contempt for active life, nor even less for generous hospitality; rather, a distinct reminder of the fact that the only really necessary thing is something else: listening to the word of the Lord; and the Lord is there at that moment, present in the Person of Jesus! All the rest will pass away and will be taken from us but the word of God is eternal and gives meaning to our daily actions.

Dear friends, as I said, this Gospel passage...  recalls the fact that the human person must indeed work and be involved in domestic and professional occupations, but first and foremost needs God, who is the inner light of Love and Truth. Without love, even the most important activities lose their value and give no joy. Without a profound meaning, all our activities are reduced to sterile and unorganised activism. And who, if not Jesus Christ, gives us Love and Truth? Therefore, brothers and sisters, let us learn to help each other, to collaborate, but first of all to choose together the better part which is and always will be our greatest good.

Here endeth the Lesson and as we reflect upon it, check out this helpful infographic.

Arduus Ad Solem,


Saturday, July 16, 2022

Butchers And Liars


Jordan Peterson calls the shot. Watch this:

When has the left gone too far? When it insists that the surgical mutilation of children has become a moral necessity. When it insists that believing that has become a sign of moral virtue and that all else is unethical.

Good work, Mr. Peterson, sending those shots right into the X Ring. In the meanwhile, we remain compliant as medical professionals, surgeons even, butcher our children for profit.





You may have forgotten about Traction Engines, which are large steam driven tractors invented in the 1850s and used, in the UK, into the 1950s. But if we've forgotten these colorful "road locomotives," rural England hasn't. Team LSP reports, from somewhere in England:

"I'm at a Traction Engine Rally, in a beer tent, listening to Country and Western. Guess what, there's not a single rainbow in sight. But there's hundreds of engines.

"The rally hadn't been held for three years because of the scamdemic but now it's back. There were 24 vintage fire engines alone, and a steam car, a Stanley Steamer."

Being a conscientious editor, I gazed in awe at photos of land leviathan relics of the industrial revolution and asked for further detail, to add color to the story. "Send photo of beer tent, thx," and got a Stanley Steamer instead, "Didn't think you'd want a photo of the beer tent. My bad." 

Mutinous correspondents aside, the Stanley Steamer was an American car, with regular models capable of 75 mph. A Stanley even set the world land speed record in 1906, clocking 150 mph before it crashed at Daytona. And what can we say? Steam cars are awesome, I want one.

Who knows, perhaps they'll suddenly become an imperative when gas becomes totally unaffordable for all but the very rich who rule us. And isn't America famous for its machine shops?

Your Pal,


Friday, July 15, 2022



You might remember the story of The Specialist And The Cat, in which a lowly enlisted man befriends a tiny, abandoned, defenseless kitten and takes the helpless creature home to the old family Compound, for healing, and a new start in life.

It's a moving tale of cat, soldiery, animal rescue and country life in Texas, but how's it going, how is the kitty? I was worried at first, because the kitten ran foolishly from the safety of the Compound. "The golden little cat?" offered one neighbor, "He's probably been eaten." Such is nature, red in tooth and claw.

But not to worry, the next day at around Noon, a woman was singing over her laundry, what a sweet sound, and up bounded the cat, who galloped across the road in search of food and water. He found it and played ridiculously.

Since then, the cat spends his time between several local porches, visiting the Compound's in early morning and late evening, typically. I like that. Fierce little creature and an asset.



Thursday, July 14, 2022



The day dawned bright, with the sun torching its way through the hazy air of a Texan July; time to go on patrol. So much better than lying and moaning on a post-op sickbed and after all, movement, we're told, is a sign of life.

The alley cats were out in force. They were on patrol as well, though much of this seemed to be about an ad hoc all round defense. Well, they are irregulars.

The Fuel Stop was up and running too. They've had bullet proof(?) perspex forever, way before the Covid craze brought sheets of see through plastic to our stores. Does the plastic defend against bullets? Perhaps. Does it stop a virus? Maybe as much as the vaccines themselves.

Then it was time to stroll by Cursed House. According to legend, Cursed House used to be a dental office and home to untold horrors, and for a fact it's seen a stream of unfortunate tenants over the last few decades. 

These leave, shrieking, and are mostly never heard from again. It's under new management these days, let's see if the renovation cleanses the place from its wicked spirits. And there you have it. A good morning, well spent.



Tuesday, July 12, 2022

Under The Knife


0430. Get up. Feed the Blue, hop into a waiting Uber and head North  to Dallas' famed Preston Plaza. But why do such a thing at such an ungodly hour? Because I had to get an inguinal hernia fixed at the Plaza's surgery center and was first on the list.

We got there early, which gave me time to scope out the renowned plaza. "Not so much a plaza as a car park," I thought grimly to myself, staring at empty lots overlooked by medium rise, black glass offices, one being the surgery center.

0600. March promptly into the medicos, sign some papers, put on a made in China mask, because Science, and before you know it you're in a hospital bed waiting for anesthetic and surgery. I didn't have to wait long and enjoyed a short prayer with the surgeon, what a good man. Then next thing you know it's 0930, the procedure's done,  and it's time to go back to Ma LSP's. So quick. 

So there you have it, Tuesday morning under the knife and now a few days off in Dallas. Thanks Doctor, and associated team.

God bless,