Friday, December 23, 2022

Bomb Cyclone Winter Eschaton

 



Many of you will laugh and shake your heads in scorn, but it's cold in Texas. Like no kidding, there's ice and even some snow. "Look," I announced in awe to a young soldier, "Snow, see it?" It took a while but he did, "Oh yeah, literal snow, wow." A few wind-driven icy flakes of it anyway.

So layer up, pull on an Arcteryx fleece, dust off the Carhart and face the new Ice Age. Such, my friends, is global warming. You see, the hotter it gets, thanks to people not paying carbon taxes, the colder it becomes.

I was struck by this, driving into a golden sunset across Lake Whitney dam to say Mass as clouds of mist steamed up from the water. Climate change can be dramatic, no doubt about it. Let's zoom in:




The Sacrament confected and the Sacrifice offered, ite missa est, it was time to drive back to the Compound, wary of black ice and grateful for the privilege of being able to celebrate the Eucharist. Where angels fear to tread, eh?




Domine non sum dignus,

LSP

6 comments:

Wild, wild west said...

Some people believe that Christ was able to walk on water because of a freak accident of nature that caused the water to freeze.

Some people, eh?

Ritchie said...

Have I mentioned lately, "Fallen Angels", Larry Niven et al.

glasslass said...

Merry Christmas and how's your little kitten doing?

LSP said...

Merry Christmas, glasslass! The kitten found a home with one of the neighbors, which is good.

LSP said...

Ritchie, "Having been shot down over the North Dakota glacier, two Space Habs astronauts find themselves paralyzed by the Earth's gravity and at the center of a ruthless manhunt by the United States government."

What's not to love?

LSP said...

Wild, I know. I recall an Oxford University chaplain and prepschool padre, he held several jobs, telling us Jesus walked on a sandbank. He also told us the miracle of the loaves and fish was all about everyone sharing their packed lunches. The miracle of the bag lunches, if you like.

I remember, as though it were yesterday, scorning him for such errant tomfoolery. What a blasphemous mountebank. He was Welsh, curiously.

Merry Christmas!