Some years ago, many years ago now, a friend in Windsor Ontario, he was an architect, said to me, "All these boys don't want to fight, they join the Army to get school and benefits and all of that." As in they didn't want to actually fight anybody. Error. But whatev, I still like this classic and maybe you do too, treetop flyer:
Rock On,
LSP
PS. Respect to the unit.
We don't have this in the US Army, but we do actually have an Army.
Evening Prayer (1928 BCP, thank you very much) is said, birds sing, a dog rests after a hard day of collecting welfare, and Fr. Louis teaches something Mexican in the church hall. And all seems well with the world, at least from this rural Texan point of view.
You wouldn't know, from this vantage point, that 10 states in the Union allow abortion up to birth. You might be excused for glossing over the fact that our country's 39 Trillion Dollars in debt and that Western Europe's committing demographic suicide. They've apparently lost the will to live, along with Massachusetts, Minnesota, Alaska, Colorado Maryland, Michigan, New Jersey, New Mexico, Oregon, and Vermont.
You'll note all these are Democrat strongholds. Why, we ask, does the Left hate life to the extent of killing babies, which is exactly what we're talking about. Ostensibly it's all about women's freedom and autonomy; to be a factor in the means of production and so achieve meaning and happiness. Babies stand in the way of that, obviously, so get rid of them and be free. In other words, I want a career and cash and having a baby doesn't fit in with that, so I'll choose wymxns healthcare.
Or something like that, but there's a deeper reason or animus behind this demonic slaughter. Nihilism. The Left hates Western culture and its Faith, values, and aesthetic; it hates Western civilization itself. As Roger Scruton reminds us, for every value or achievement our forbears thought valuable there's a university course deconstructing the same.
Destroying the family and convincing women to go against their most natural instinct, to bear and raise children, in fact to kill them, is perhaps the most heinous of crimes. Their end is destruction and there will be a reckoning. Divine justice demands it.
In the meanwhile, Massachusetts Governor Maura Healey signed literal infanticide into law as her female cheerleaders clapped and gushed, a scene from Hell. At the time of writing, neither the Pope nor any member of the US Conference of Catholic Bishops have excommunicated Maura, a self-proclaimed Catholic. You can, apparently, kill babies unrepentantly and still receive Holy Communion. Burning coals spring to mind, there will be a Reckoning.
Stand For Life,
LSP
Just in case you missed it, Massachusetts, which is a rich, liberal enclave in North East America, just signed into law a bill which permits abortion at the point of birth. Reflect on that. At. The Point. Of. Birth. As in, kill your baby as you give birth to it. There's no nuance here, no grey area, just sheer demonic infanticide.
Some of you may recall that the Romans fought a war against Carthage, which they won, plowing salt into the ruins of that city; that same city which sacrificed their children to Moloch, casting them into a burning, brazen idol. Listen up. Carthage met it's end, and so too will our latter day followers of Moloch.
Let's put it bluntly: You can't kill your babies and not expect extreme, fiery, cataclysmic retribution. To be more blunt still: The comparative silence of the Church, regardless of denomination, is staggering.
🚨 UPDATE: Massachusetts Gov. Maura Healey (D) has officially signed a law allowing abortion up to the POINT OF BIRTH, with liberals cheering
— Eric Daugherty (@EricLDaugh) August 11, 2026
This is straight-up demonic.
The previous law only allowed abortions after 24 weeks in limited circumstances.
Pray for the kids 🙏🏻… pic.twitter.com/n6cjjcplAv
Karabanov, Director of the Russian Navy's Central Band and the Admiralty's Navy Band, isn't content with such honorifics, he clearly has a purpose, namely to produce and recreate the culture of a gilded age, pre-Bolshevik Russia.
At last! Rain! You'll note we put out the ferns and porch palm. Let them enjoy the skywater. In the meanwhile, thunder rolls overhead like the guns on Ostfront and all is well in this rural haven. except, obviously, that we might get washed away in the flood.
Sunny Hello,
LSP
I guess it seemed, to these fools and most everyone else, that everything was getting better 'round about 1968 as we threw off the oppressive shackles of the past and marched into a brave post-rationing world of progress. Outward and visible sign? Destroying the architecture of the past and replacing it with concrete, brutalist hubs of ugliness. And that's just it.
We haven't gotten any better since 1968, on the contrary, we've declined. Politics, a thrashing node of in-your-face corruption. Education, a hollowed out holding-pen sham. Police, in Europe and the UK an extension of Cultural Marxist DEI slop, rainbow enforcers if you like. And on, but let's get personal.
Do you earn the equivalent of what your fathers did in the late '60s? You know, when one man could support a wife and family on one modest income? No, you don't, that's utterly impossible unless you're amongst the fortunate and shrinking few who can. On point: Back in the '90s I could go to a pub, buy pints of beer, smoke(!) and have a great time for not much more than 20GBP. Today? Not so much if at all.
Things have gotten worse instead of better. You're poorer now, a lot poorer; we're not riding flying cars on free energy, but we are paying more for housing and entertainment, and everything is ugly, really ugly, as in to look at; see the entrance to any American city, utterly hideous. Well I could go on and on and bore you to bits but the point is this: Contrary to the Beatles, we're not getting better, we're getting worse. Why?
I'll wager this. Because we've jettisoned the Faith which is the foundation of our culture. Get rid of that and everything collapses, and into this vacuum has spread all kinds of fast-propagating wickedness, not least today's rainbow Bolshevism.
Word to the wise. Reject it, say no to it, expose it, mock it, dismantle it, scorn it, and in doing so lift up the Faith which is beautiful, good and true. Replace their faked up satanic Marxist rubbish with the real thing, with the Faith given to us by Christ, the Faith which is the foundation of real progress and beatitude.
Sermon over,
LSP
Perhaps, at long last, some kind of accountability is falling into place. The Senate Homeland Security Committee voted today to hold the heinous, smug, mendacious, lying, corrupt, rich, weasel-fraud Fauci in contempt for refusing to answer questions before Congress.
He couldn't do it, this grossly overpaid bureaucrat of fraud, and invoked the 5th some 100 times. Now he's being referred to the DOJ for prosecution. Good, and not before time that one of the most serious COVID malfeasants was brought to account.
Will he be, this weaselly, absurdly overpaid, grifting, death-dealing enemy of the people? Don't hold your breath, but hey, a step in the right direction. Here's John 8:44, right on point:
Ye are of your father the devil, and the lusts of your father ye will do. He was a murderer from the beginning, and abode not in the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he speaketh a lie, he speaketh of his own: for he is a liar, and the father of it.
You'll be interested to know that "doctor" Fauci is a very wealthy man with a net worth of around 12MN$. Satan, you see, rewards its own. As in:
Wealth Growth and Sources
Government Salary: Fauci served as the highest-paid federal employee, earning an annual government salary of $480,654 prior to his retirement in December 2022. His wife also maintained a high-level government bioethics career at the NIH.
Pandemic Growth: Financial records showed their combined household net worth grew from roughly $7.6 million before the pandemic to peak around $12.6 million by the end of 2021, before market fluctuations adjusted it to about $11.5 million at the close of 2022.
Post-Retirement Earnings: Since stepping down, Fauci's net worth has continued to climb past $12 million due to high-value book deals—including a memoir advance of roughly $5 million—alongside numerous paid public speaking fees ranging from $50,000 to $100,000 per appearance, and standard federal pension payouts.
Problem. Solution? Import millions of votes from the post colonial world and smash that white working class ballot box into oblivion, all in the name of tolerance. Clever, eh?
Ain't it, but we've seen through their cunning little ruse here in the States. Europe/UK needs to catch up and it will. Remember this, punters, everything the Left does produces the exact opposite of its intended result.
Your Pal,
LSP
Fr. Javier Aizpún comments on the recent invasion of Spanish territory in North Africa:
"Our Lady of Africa, patroness of Ceuta, may she drive the reconquest of Morocco and its conversion to Christianity. What Queen Isabella the Catholic left undone, let us know how to finish."
Too bad the man in Rome isn't able to speak with such clarity and truth. In the meanwhile, the COE's diversity hire's busy showing up for photo ops on her cringey apologize to Africa campaign. Pathetic, useless, virtue signaling exhausting DEI slop, but the serpent is a subtle beast.
African Christians don't take kindly to wymxn priestesses, much less Archbishop figure leaderenes. Problem, especially if you're a priestess nominally in charge of the show. Solution? Give the recalcitrant Africans 100 million GBP in diversity bribe money. Sorted. Big soy lattes all 'round.
Our Lady of Africa, pray for us,
LSP
There's a lot of loose talk about civil war in the UK right about now, and that's understandable, their beloved rulers appear to be acting against the well-being of the people they've sworn to protect and serve. Witness two-tier policing, open borders malfeasance and just about every other crooked skulduggery you care to imagine. Net result? Civil war or some kind of rebellion, to put it mildly.
Hey, civil war talk was all the rage here a year or two ago for precisely the same reason, nooses down the Mall. But hold on, what would such a conflict look like? Maybe the Battle of the Crater helps to clarify things, in which a massive Union mine led to disastrous results.
Sobering, d'ye not think, and we've not even gotten into the Ukrainian brother war carnage. So maybe everyone should just simmer down and return to normalcy or "civility"? There's more than a few political philosophers with tenure that suggest such a thing. How irenic, and good luck with that.
For what little it's worth, I feel we're past the point of no return, where there are no polite solutions to the nihilist assault on everything beautiful, good and true. But what do I know, I'm just a country preacher, living under the sylvan shade of the leafy glens of Old Texas, in the North Central Texas Exclusion Zone where every day is a foray into the preheating oven we call "Summer."
.jpg)
Whatev, make your confession, go to Mass and wait for the new Franco. Spain's clearly in need.
Deus Vult,
LSP
Do you like sermons which go on for 30 or 40 minutes? I don't, and typically run outside for a cigarette and a cup of coffee, if available, while the preacher's banging on interminably. That in mind, I'll try to keep it short lest you lose interest and dive into the nearest gun shop.
The miraculous feeding of the 5000. Positive divine power proof that Jesus was God; mortals can't do such things. Our first lesson, the divinity of Christ, but what else? Start at the beginning of the passage and what do we find? Jesus stepping ashore from his boat, God made Man stepping onto the shore of the world, the Incarnation. Once there he beholds the crowd, the mass of broken humanity, and moved with compassion, cures the sick.
Behold the character of the Incarnate Word; full of compassion, with mercy, pity and love, he heals the sick. There on that shore it was physical disease, which points to a greater cure, our deliverance from sin and death, of being made whole again by the great physician of our souls. Where is this achieved?
On the Cross, and again the miraculous narrative points us to this, to the "lonely place apart" where the day is well-spent, to Gethsemane, the Praetorium, to Golgotha itself and the Cross, where our Lord cries out, "It is finished," and darkness covers the land even as he feeds us with the miraculous food of his body and blood.
Look what we have in just the first half of the Gospel passage, an outline of Christ's redemptive work, but we have to ask, where do we get this supernatural food? In the Eucharist, which is emphatically prefigured in the miracle. What happens?
There in the dark, recall his Passion, he takes the small offering of 5 loaves and two fish, signifying what? The Law and the Prophets, the 5 senses of Man sanctified, the sevenfold order of creation, Jesus himself who is the bread of life? All this perhaps and more and, having taken this up he blesses it, breaks it and gives it to the disciples to distribute.
He does the very same thing at the Last Supper, the first Eucharist, where from his compassion he feeds his disciples with the miraculous food of his body and blood shed for them on the Cross for the remission of their sins, for their healing and life. He does the same for us today in the Mass, where our Lord steps ashore to heal us, to make us whole again with God, nourishing us with the supernatural food of his body and blood.
What can we do in the face of such mystery? Draw near with faith to the sacrament of our Lord's Body and Blood, wherein the Great Physician heals us, forgiving our sins and raises us to eternal life.
God Bless,
LSP
You go into Wells Cathedral Church of St. Andrew, a masterpiece of Gothic architecture once described as the "most beautiful" and "most poetic" of English cathedrals, and what do you see hanging above its knave altar? A giant inflatable rainbow dragon, floating gleefully above the grey-haired heads of the few people daring to attend the church's Eucharist.
So you flee in terror from the dragon, hoping to find peace in the contemplative, monastic stillness of a former Chapter House, but no. There's an inflatable blue snake waiting for you, coiled around the pillar upholding the minimalist fan vaulting of this once sacred space.
Why have they done this? Ostensibly, to bring mythical beasts drawn by long ago monks in the books of the cathedral library to life, and so encourage people, especially children, to go to the church. Because, you know, every kid loves a giant inflatable dragon or a big blue blow up snake. Snake's the word, the people behind this are desecrating a sacred space in the pretend hope of winning converts to a God they don't believe in, much less his architecture.
Moving on, we travel from bucolic Somerset to Chester and the North West, where "people aren't afraid to get their hands dirty." But they have, installing Islamic "kiosks" in the Cathedral Church of Christ and the Blessed Virgin Mary.
This used to be a Benedictine abbey before Henry VIII decided to loot the Church and create a whole new breed of millionaire. That heinous crime aside, why put up these monuments to Islam in the cathedral? Baffling, ain't it, but fortunately the internet tells us:
There we were, overlooking New Street Covent Garden from the fastness of our eyrie when suddenly Magnum P.I. came on the visual juke box of the TV. Wow, hadn't seen that show in decades but what utter genius.
Magnum's a P.I. hired by some rich guy in Hawaii to look after the interests of the estate. Nice, he gets a Ferrari out of it. He also get's Higgins, a comedy British Major who attempts to bring some kind of reality to Magnum's hi-jinx, and there's a helicopter flown by a black Nam vet, and some other inconsequential white dude.
Whatever, Magnum sorts out all kinds of crimes in rare good form and style. Should Tom Selleck be President of our great nation? I vote yes, you may not, that's your call and mine. But before you cast your important vote, check out the awesomeness that is Magnum P.I. And as an aside, do you think Magnum would put up with Open Borders Bolshevism (OBB), whether in Spain, here or anywhere else?
Of course he wouldn't, and neither would anyone else apart from a Democrat, RINO, COE wymxn bishop or Labour MP. Time to say no to such errant rainbow nonsense.
Your Pal,
LSP
Get out there, but to do what, shoot guns, fish, sight-see and all of that? No, to visit the sick, in this case a man in the final stages of ALS, which is an awful disease. I administered Last Rites or Extreme Unction and he told me, afterwards, in a whisper, that he was "ready to go." What a good man and I pray for a miracle; you might pray for him too, his name's Jimmy and he's a vet who was awarded the Purple Heart in Vietnam.
Visit over, I headed back to HWY 6, Meridian and home via all kinds of rocky paths. I tell you, my friend lives in an interesting place, with cactus hills, mesquite and hilltop mansions, and you can picture the Commanche lookouts on the hilltops. Fortunately there were no savage Commanche, but I did drive through a small herd of Black Buck Gazelle as I rode to the gate. Exotic, and I'm sure you get the picture.
In utterly unrelated news, some 80,000 Moslem savages have crossed into Spain's North African city, Cueta, facing Gibraltar. The border simply collapsed and the Communists in Madrid have done effectively nothing to stop the flood, what a surprise; something similar's happening in Melilla. Reports indicate Spain's police and army have stood down in the face of the invasion. Again, what a total, never would have guessed it surprise.
Unwelcome surprise aside, pity the poor people in Cueta and Melilla, betrayed by their beloved nihilist Socialist Rulers. Perhaps, somewhere in Spain, there's someone ready to rise up and save their nation. Let's see, it's happened before. In the meanwhile pray for Jimmy, he's a good man.
The last couple of days has been all about driving, yes, mostly driving on the always-in-construction I35. "Why," you ask yourself, "do you subject yourself to such tumult and misery?"
Because, dear friends, a Guardsman had to be collected from Fort Hood, brought back to the Compound for an evening's R&R, and then taken to Ma LSP's in Dallas for a final installment before being driven to Terminal A at DFW for a flight back to Blighty. And someone else was going to Florida for some reason and had to be dropped off too. Two separate trips to the airport because timing. Net result?
Lots of driving on roads I typically avoid. How much better if we had a hi-speed train link to DFW instead of a grisly highway(s), but we don't. Apparently that's beyond us, at least for now, but it wasn't all bad, not by any means. The Guardsmen got a kick out of Hood and thoroughly enjoyed Texas, so much more free than nanny state UK.
I asked him as we sped to the airport in the rig, "Do they still hit you in Basic and have they lowered fitness standards so chicks can get in?" He laughed, "They do and when the MOD tells us not to we just say **** you and keep doing it. Paras the same." We shared Basic war stories, always enjoyable, and it seems not too much has changed.
Where will this young man go in the Guards? I don't know, but could see Warrant, which ain't shabby. Whatev, he had big fun visiting the kid at Hood and seeing Texas. It'll be hard for him to readjust to Aldershot, Catterick and all of that.
In the meanwhile, young Sgt. LSP had a lot of fun with a fellow warrior from across the pond. Great result, bith want to get kinetic, Kyrie... And now? Back home in the sylvan groves of bucolic North Central Texas, which is no bad place to be.
Drive Safe,
LSP
DJ Phelps lays out the scenario.
This is exactly how millions of American veterans feel. I’m one of them. We will take back our great nation. 🇺🇸 pic.twitter.com/ZHifKB8Ugt
— ReelGunslinger 🇺🇸 (@militarytard) July 27, 2026
Message to market UK/EU,
LSP
It was only in the 90s, overcast and pleasant, so we loaded up some guns in the rig and headed out to the range for gunpowder therapy. You know what it's like, sometimes you just have to get out there and shoot, and that's what we did. First up, skeet, or "clays."
It's not hard, just swing into the vibe, put the bead on the orange biodegradable White Flyer bird and squeeze the trigger. Boom, smoke that clay, but would a young Irish Guardsman achieve that lofty goal on his first try? Yes, he did, and then some, most notably with a great value CZ O/U 20 field gun. Quick presentation and hey, it works without breaking your shoulder.
A US Army Sergeant operated as 2nd gun, shooting a vintage 870 Wingmaster 12. Pump. Boom. And I acted as thrower before rotating to both firearms. Have to say, the Wingmaster was Old Skool awesome but I like the fast action of the CZ 20. OK, it's not hand engraved/checkered amazingness but it works and works well, and you don't have to worry if its Turkish walnut gets dinged up in the field.
Next up? Pistols. Viz. 2 .38 Chief Specials (best being S&W) and 2 Glocks, a 13 and a 21 (9 & 45). The Guardsman grouped well with both Glocks but shot low left on the Green Terr, why? Trigger pull and lack of practice; you see, they're issued with Glock 13s in the Guards but I don't think they get much range time. Being a helpful and encouraging instructor, I suggested he hold at around 2 O Clock in the 8 ring (appx shoulder) and land center mass. Sure enough he did, then finished off with a good correction, holding center, hitting center.
Sergeant LSP shot really well. The pistol's his friend, more so than shotgun. Me? Shot last and punched out the X Ring by some weird quirk of shooting fate, and then we headed back to the Compound, all shot out. What a lot of fun.
Keen-eyed readers will note a wind turbine looming dystopian above the range. This is a new development and I don't like it one bit. In fact I really hate it. Have any of you run the money on this destruction of the country?
As in: Who's paying for it and to what gain? I'm guessing taxpayer ca$h at the behest of our beloved rulers. Feel free to chime in and educate. In the meanwhile, what a good day. We finished off with burgers and brats on the grill, delicious.
Shoot On,
LSP
Pan to a quizzical eyebrow, it's almost too hot to speak, and you expound, "Yes, I watched Zulu, the movie." Now, all three of you readers of this shallow mind blog know exactly what that means, Isandlwana, the horrific 1879 defeat of a small British battlegroup by a far larger Zulu army. Yes, you know this, but Front Porch Joint Command was uncertain, "You mean some kind of horrible Victorian African war?" Exactly so, and we changed the subject.
Front porchery aside, Isandlwana sent such shockwaves through Great Britain that I was being taught about it, with a degree of reverence, let the reader understand, in the 1970s, same with the Indian Mutiny. No wonder, many of our teachers were former officers who'd served the Empire and fought the Hun to boot. But back on point.
Isandlwana. What a total, tragic failure on Great Britain's part, a lot of good men killed through sheer, bone-headed incompetence and upper class hubris, see Lord Chelmsford and associates. Well, you can read about the disaster on the internet, which details the defeat of some 1,500 Martini Henry wielding troops by around 12,000 spear chucking savages who somehow stumbled on Hannibal's famous flanking maneuver. Bad show, Chelmsford, and well done boys for rallying at Rorke's Drift, which reminds me.
Many, many years ago I let a rifle (L1A1/SLR) fall to the ground at a training range and my Platoon Commander gave the old drop and do 50, which I did. Half way through he asked, "Royal Regiment of Wales, name a battle honour." I replied, "Rorke's Drift," and he stumped off, a British South African, curiously.
So there you have it. Watch Zulu or Zulu Dawn, most awesome. If you already have, watch 'em again.
LSP
Look, a couple of ne'er do wells exploring a CQB range at Ft. Hood. By way of background, my Irish Guards nephew was invited to Company PT this morning, which included some kind of Mad Max relay race with a Humvee and then the boys were off. To do what? Tour the post, not least all these CQB/MockTown ranges. Seems like Brits had been to one of them before:
You know what? We moan and gripe about the collapse of Western Civ, and rightly so, but it's not over yet, not by a long way. On point, these young men don't vote Left, and guess what? They're armed. That in mind, I went fishing while the boys were knocking about, and that was good too, tranquil.
Your Best Pal,
LSP
One of the neat things about this rural Texan haven is that you get to visit other peoples' compounds, and this one was pretty neat. Woods, a field with a tank, chickens and turkeys, and all kinds of veg in raised bed planters. These people won't go hungry come the Eschaton; all 'round cheer. Why the cheer?
Because it was a joint birthday party for kids and adults and great good fun, no side. No, just good people having fun under the big Texan sky, and not least the kids. These are homeschooled and hugely well mannered and literate, just like kids used to be before the commie DOE destroyed them.
Seriously, what pleasant children and I say that as a founder member of the King Herod Society, a most prestigous club. Conviv at an end, there were invites to fish for MONSTER bass at a neighbor's pond/lake and shoot dove come September at the nearest tank. Result. But that's for the future.
In the meanwhile, I applaud these people for getting out of the Metrosprawl and setting up in the halcyon woods of Bosque County. More importantly, raising their children right, away from the leftist nihilsm of our taxpayer funded school system No hyperbole.
We pay serious money to Leftist mountebanks who hate our culture, religion and race to educate our kids, and then wonder why they're so messed up. Problem. Solution? Sidestep the Marxists and tutor your kids at home, it can and is being done to good effect.
Party over, I waved a cheery goodbye, "See you at Mass tomorrow."
LSP
