Gun Henge

Behold the power of the Mysticke Stones.

Will their earth energy deflect the power of .45 ACP and 5.56? Will Gaia shield the black silhouette from the evil pistols and deadly assault rifle? No, it will not.

Smoldering rubble.

Moral of the story, don't hide behind a cinderblock wall. The stones won't save you.

Gun rights,

LSP

Don't be an Illuminati Shill, Shoot

There's nothing wrong with collecting guns. You can stare at them, lovingly, as they sit in their racks, gleaming in the Gun Room, and that's just fine. But the end or the telos of the gun is to hit a target with a bullet, moving with explosive energy and power. 

If guns aren't doing that they're not fulfilling their potential, which isn't fair on the firearm. With that in mind, I took BW, her friend T and some of the armory to Range #2.

You're Right Handed, BW

It was hot, no doubt about it, but that didn't stop us squaring up against the opposition under a fierce Texan sun that seemed to bleach everything with white light.  A Glock 21, Beretta PX4, AR 15 and a Ruger American .22 all fulfilled themselves, putting rounds down range and on target.

T Gauging The Enemy

T, who works for the Beretta Gallery in NYC, enjoyed shooting weapons that aren't generally available on the Island, and he shot well, taking to the violent and deadly .45s like a natural. He's a wing shooter on the Rainbow Hued East Coast (RHEC) and favors a classic double trigger, straight stock, side by side 20 gauge, for shooting pheasant and woodcock. I'm jealous of that gun and he's jealous of the freedom to shoot .45s and evil assault rifles. 

A Target

Are we even? No, because I can save up and buy the SxS. Sorry, T. rally 'round and vote the RHEC out of power, please. In fact, send the elite millionaire socialist leaders to jail while you're at it. The world will be a safer place.

A Typical Day in Texas

BW got in some practice on the Ruger and wanted to shoot left handed, which is odd, because she's right handed. That peculiar trend was put right, I think, and accuracy improved accordingly.

Shoot over, we headed back for home and some ice cold beer. And that's what it's all about, here at the Compound.

Shoot straight,

LSP

LSP, What a Sell-Out!

God is in His heaven, my rig is in the shop and before you can say, "LSP, you should've done it yourself, what a sell-out!" I'll say it for you. I sold out, to The Man, and let the mechanics deal with the truck's broken coolant system.

There Was a House Here, Once

That meant a pleasant walk back into town along 22. There were more houses here at one time, and nature's fast reclaiming the empty spaces where they once stood.

Courthouse

The railway's still here, though it only runs freight these days, and so is the courthouse, standing tall in the town square. We can thank Willie Nelson for part of that because he helped with its renovation in the '90s, after a fire.

Huevos Rancheros

It's a short walk across the square to Montes Mexican diner and Huevos Rancheros (Rancher's Eggs). Montes has other food and I'm sure it's great, but I don't order it, I just get Rancher's Eggs because I like them and they taste good.

A Couple of Random Glocks

This time was no exception.

God bless,

LSP

Cooking With LSP, Country Style Ribs

"Cooking with LSP?!?" you snort indignantly into an old Jeb! campaign brochure, "You can't do that." But you can, and here's how.

Go out and get a couple of pounds of bone-in country style ribs from the supermarket for around eight or nine bucks. Take a gun, if Nanny allows you to defend yourself like a free man, or woman; I chose a Glock 21, but that's just me. Buy some carrots, celery, onion, garlic, dry white wine, olive oil, apple juice or cider, cider vinegar and tomato paste, grainy Dijon mustard, bay leaves, thyme, chicken broth and dried red pepper. 

Ingredients. Note Spyderco

If you already have these ingredients you don't have to get them again, unless you're all about building fail-safe redundancy into your EOTW (end of the world) food store.

Return from the supermarket and get out a crock pot, cast iron works well, it can go in the oven. Put the pot on the stove at medium high with 2 tablespoons of oil and brown the pork, previously salt and peppered, then place the meat aside. Don't be intimidated, it's not hard.

Shoot The Plate With a Glock

Add 1 more tablespoon of oil, 1 chopped carrot, celery stick and onion to the pot, and cook on medium heat until softened. Add 3 cloves of minced garlic and cook for a further minute, then 2 tablespoons of tomato paste. Stir this up for a bit then pour in that white wine you bought earlier, 1/2 a cup worth. Raise the heat to medium high and scrape up any browned meat or veg from the bottom of the pan. 

While you're at it, turn up the jukebox, perhaps it's playing Thank Christ For The Bomb, or Rebel Son's famous Bury me in Southern Ground. Whatever, you decide, like a Sovereign.

Well done, you've got this far, so have a drink as you look in wonder at the food in the pot. Have several, or not, there no rule.

Meat in, Atogether, Bring to Boil, Transfer to Oven

Wine in, add 1/4 cup of apple cider, 2 1/2 cups chicken broth, 1/2 cup cider/apple juice, 1 tbs mustard, 2 bay leaves, 3 sprigs thyme or dried equivalent, and red pepper. Salt and pepper to taste. Then put the pork in the pot. There, it's altogether. Bring to a boil then cover and transfer to an oven at 325*, middle position. Cook for around 1 hour 45 minutes, removing the lid for the last half hour. 

Scoff

The meat should be fall-off-the-fork tender, if it isn't, return to the oven and cook that pork 'till it is. Take it out of the oven, let it rest for a bit, and serve over mashed potatoes.

Get a Haircut, Fool.

Then eat your scoff like a Warrior. And that's cooking with,

LSP

You Plinker!

Some say that a dinner of roast quail and venison sausage, rifle to table, helps you shoot better the next day at the range. I drove out into the Texan countryside with my philisophical pal, GWB, to find out.

We took along a couple of scoped Ruger .22s, an American and a 10/22, representing the bolt and the semi side of the rimfire world. And a couple of pistols, a Sig and a Glock, chambered for 9mm and .45. But what about the quail and venison theory of marksmanship, how did that stand up, in the real world?

If a metal kettle, a plastic Folgers container, steel plates and turkey, at 75 and 100 yards, are anything to go by, the theory holds true. Down went the opposition, with a vengeance. I claim the best pistol shot of the day, hitting the kettle at 75 yards with the Glock. Sorry, kettle, you lose. I never much liked you anyway.

Shoot over, GWB wanted to check out the land behind the range for what he calls "native Texan grasses." That excitement over, I spotted a piece of metal, shining in the hot spring sun. "Look at that, you see it, glinting in the sun?" I asked my Wittgensteinian ally, "Maybe it's a piece of UFO debris. Let's have a look."

It wasn't a bit of space junk, annoyingly, just an old air conditioner that someone had dumped. And as I reflected on the higher implications of that, a long rattlesnake uncoiled silently from beneath the rusting metal and made its way, gliding and deadly, into a nearby pipe. Moral of the story?

Quail and venison help you shoot. This is now settled science. Also, don't be a dimwit when you go for a nature ramble in Texas, it's not Devon, or the Cotswolds. Take a gun, you might need it, and be careful poking around in space junk, who knows what killers might lurk within.

Shoot straight,

LSP

Night Patrol, in Texas

Are we entering a new dark night of political and cultural devolution in America? To find out, I went for a night recce patrol with  Blue Destroyer.

I didn't see any riots, weirdly, but I did see a flag.

Still, the streets were pretty deserted. Everyone was probably inside, cleaning weapons, loading magazines, and making sure their kit was silent.

The air was full of the smell of burning mesquite. Was it smoke from a burn pile, blowing in from the fields, or people throwing the most immediate fuel source on their fires to keep warm? Who knows, that intel is being passed up to higher command for in-depth analysis.

Less happily, there was some skunk in the air too. I didn't see the skunk.

And then we were back at the Compound, recce over.

Mind how you go,

LSP

Storm Front

Maybe it's because we don't pay enough carbon tax and don't have a ban on hi-cap magazines, but for whatever reason, it seemed like we were losing the War on Weather this morning. 

The sky began to turn green and the air became still in the Ozlike light. Very much the calm before the tornado which didn't come, although the rain did. Like a deluge. That meant I didn't go visiting this morning because I had to make the compound's sturdy tornado bunker (basement) available to the public.

Then the storm passed over and I made my rounds, visiting the sick, the dying and the bereaved. There's no shortage of these, unfortunately. But still, it meant stopping by a fine restaurant.

It also meant gauging the exponential growth of a chicken operation, and running cattle, to say nothing of pondering the militia presence in the local Walmart car park. 

It's all going on in the countryside, I tell you.

And the the storm is by no means over.

LSP

The Alien Gear Cloak Tuck 3.0 Holster

Texas allows open carry, which means you can walk about most places with a pistol on your hip. But almost everyone still carries concealed, they don't want to advertise the fact that they're armed.

With that in mind, it makes sense to have a good concealed carry holster and Alien Gear claim to have come up with the goods. Here's the marketing:

The Bag it Comes in -- Note Guaranty

"Your Cloak Tuck 3.0 retains all the aspects that made its predecessor the most comfortable, concealed holster on the planet, yet somehow, we've managed to improve our IWB (inside the waistband) holster even more." 

How could they possibly have done that?

By adding a thin spring-steel core for "retention and durability" and a ballistic nylon lining, which stops the steel from messing up the holster's neoprene back, and potentially lacerating your hip. But that's not all. The Cloak Tuck 3.0 has "Alien Skin Surface." What's that, you wonder, in awestruck amazement.

See The Alien Skin? It's Thermoelastic

It's "a perfect layer of thermoelastic polymer" which covers the surface of the holster. This is textured, adding "grip and retention" and has an alien head on it as well as a US flag. 

That's the advertising, and the reality? 

It Works

The Cloak Tuck 3.0 is rigid without being uncomfortable and clips securely to your belt. This holster's not going anywhere without a fight and its sturdy kydex shell holds your pistol securely; it's not about to slip off for a wander.  You can adjust retention by loosening or tightening the screws that hold the shell to the holster base, and it comes with extra spacers and hardware to allow for this.  Cant's adjustable too, by raising or lowering the holster's belt clips. It comes preset at a 15 degree "FBI Cant."

But what makes the Cloak Tuck 3.0 "alien"? Good question. Well, the Alien Skin Surface, for a start, and the off-world green of the holster's spacers. I like that, it looks space age.

Neoprene

So what's the verdict? Alien Gear's Cloak Tuck 3.0 works, holding your pistol comfortably and securely inside the waist band. It's sturdy and if the one I was sent is anything to go by, well made, fitting my Glock 21 perfectly, to say nothing of attention to detail -- good stitching, a neat alien head and overall high quality finish. 

But is it tactical? Oh yes, very, especially inside your spaceship, where the green spacers really stand out. How much does it cost? Around 50 bucks, and that's money well spent for a holster that works and works well. Do women like them? I'd have thought that was obvious.

Thanks, Alien Gear, for a good bit of kit, and if you're looking for an IWB synthetic holster that does the job at the right price, have a look at the Cloak Tuck 3.0. I doubt you'll be disappointed. And oh, it's made in the US, too.

Thanks, SBW, for the hookup.

Gun Rights,

LSP

Presidents Day!

Here's a helpful infographic for Presidents Day, see if you can spot the odd men out.  While you reflect on that, ponder another mystery. Turkey's Mad Sultan, Erdogan, is shelling Syian army and Kurdish positions near Aleppo as Saudi Arabia flies planes into Incirlik for raids against Assad forces.

Some think that the Mad Sultan and his friends will invade Syria to protect their ISIS proxy army and lift the siege of Aleppo. Russia, presumably, will run away like a scolded cat.  Or, on the other hand, it will destroy the crazed Sultan's invading phalanx and shoot down Saudi Arabia's airforce. Which course of action do you think Russian President, Vladimir Putin, is most likely to take?

As this drama plays out in the hot sands of the Levant, Blue Eschaton guards the Compound against the impending apocalypse and I'm off to the range for some small arms practice.

Never trust a hippy,

LSP

Happy Mondays!

Here's a cheery thought to brighten up your day:

Via ZeroHedge -- The political class has completely disrupted the American structure of production, made American workers uncompetitive, snuffed the life out of entrepreneurs, and burdened the entire nation with a debt obligation the size of Jupiter. The US economy is not the strongest and most durable in the world — it is an unskilled thirty-two-year-old waiter crashing at his parent’s place and trying to pay down an $80,000 international relations degree.

That makes me want to go out and shoot pistols, but then again I don't need much tempting.

Gun Rights,

LSP 

Little Fur

My sister inherited a coat, Big Fur. She had it tailored down. Now it's Little Fur.

Don't confuse Big Fur and its smaller descendant with anything that went on at a pop concert in California.

That is all.

LSP

#BlackGunsMatter

At least they do if you know how to shoot them. With that in mind, I went down to the range with a couple of black guns and an eye towards some remedial target practice.

A natural gas pipeline is being put through the fields behind the range's berm and it felt strange to see a bit of country I'd enjoyed being torn up. Everything seemed smaller, somehow.

I clambered over the earthworks to speak with one of the pipeliners, who was sitting in a Ranger, and asked if it was OK to shoot. He said sure, as long as I shot away from the work. "Hell! I've already been shot once already!" he said, holding up his left hand, which was missing all its fingers except the thumb, and a bit of that was gone too. 

"Man!" I exclaimed, promising to shoot safely, and asked where the pipeline was going. "From Whitney to Teague," said my new friend, and I told him that was "quite a thing," which it is.

Conversation over, I blazed away at some improvised targets, going for speed with the .45 and accuracy with the carbine. I have to say, the more I shoot the Glock 21 the more I like it; that pistol's right on the money. The AR worked well too, a proper little blaster.

Shoot over, I drove into the golden void like a warrior, on the edge of time.

Gun rights,

LSP

The Christian Pacifist -- Dropped On Head As Infant

GWB

Some people think that Christians should be pacifists. They claim that the early church forbade its members from joining the military and that scripture does the same. So, for them, it's wrong for Christians to go to war, ever. To find out the truth, I called up the well-known linguistic philosopher, orientalist and naturalist, GWB.

"Maybe you think it's somehow 'acceptable' to wander around unarmed," I asked. 

"I'm armed to the teeth," replied my philisophical pal, "With love, and the imperative to think globally and act locally."

"Good strategy. In the land of the rainbow unicorn, and while you're at it, go right ahead and re-purpose some hemp."

A Typical Hornless Rainbow Unicorn,

But seriously, we don't live in a rainbow world of frolicking trans unicorns, despite the best efforts of our Eurolib rulers. We do live in a world that's increasingly full of bad actors, and it's our duty to defend against that. 

Any Old Iron

Christian pacifists take note. Not only are you ignorant of church history and scripture, you are also the sad victims of dropped-on-head-as-infant syndrome.

Your Friend,

LSP


With thanks to our friends at Sitka and Beretta.