Cleaning Guns The LSP Way

People often ask me, how do you clean guns the LSP way? And I reply that it's much like any other way except it's mostly done on the porch, in Texas. But this evening I had a nasty surprise.

I'd no sooner stripped down the BCG (bolt carrier group) of one of the compound's deadly assault rifles when I noticed it was filthy dirty. Obviously the Russians had hacked it, in a desperate bid to subvert the weapon's democratic process.

Hacked

Thanks to Hoppe's solvent, oil, a bore snake and a thorough scrubbing, the carbine was soon back in working order, kremlins removed. All's well, fortunately, that ends well.

Send Her To Raqqa

In related news, a grassroots movement to send Katy Perry to Raqqa, is sweeping America. Whether Katy will enjoy coexisting with the Caliphate remains to be seen.

Gun Rights,

LSP

Unicorn Hunting School

One of the things English visitors to the compound like to do is hunt unicorns with deadly pistols and assault rifles. You see, they can't do that in the Old Country, because unicorns are protected and it's far too dangerous. But it's open season on the horned predators in Texas, so we loaded up the rig with weaponry and headed to the range.

The unicorn hunting evolution went well, with a brisk warm-up against steel plates, playing cards (thanks, LL), some pound coins and a couple of silhouettes. Watermelons featured too. And guess what?

The new pound coin doesn't stand a chance against a Glock 21, a .38 Special, an AR15 and a Ruger American .22. Then we got on the unicorn. Let's just say this, it met its match. 

Vicious little things, unicorns, they'll gore you with their horn so don't hesitate before squeezing the trigger.

Well done, JS and H. You are now unicorn hunters, good shooting.

Gun rights,

LSP

Shoot! It's Spring

The day didn't start off well; I wasn't happy about the marketing stunt Walmart had pulled on its T shirts. These have been rebranded as "Extreme Sports Temp," in the hope that no one notices that once good T shirts are now flimsy rubbish. Way to go, Marketeers. So, to put things straight I put some guns in the rig and headed out to the range to celebrate the first day of spring.

As always, it was great to get out in the country with the guns, in this case an AR15, a Glock 21 and a Ruger American .22. Nothing too adventurous, just some relaxing target practice in the sunny Texan spring. And some pest control.

That's right, a unicorn had sneaked into the range and had to be dealt with. They're a menace, I tell you. Just look at their horns, they'll gore you, given half the chance.

So I didn't waste any time dealing with the threat. Will 5.56 and .45 take down a unicorn? Yes, they will and the Glock 21 proved especially effective at neutralizing the deceptively fluffy enemy at close range. Take that, unicorn.

Herd control over, I finished off with some gentle plinking against the range's steel plates. Remember to breathe, was my note to self.

Shoot over, it was time to head back to the Compound, mission accomplished and a good day had by all, except the unicorn. You can watch aspects of this curious adventure here.

Gun rights,

LSP

Sunrise at the Compound

The sun rose over the Compound to the usual morning chorus of roosters, crazed peacocks and pyschotic dogs.  Blue MAGA didn't care, he was busy gnawing on a cast off steak bone. 

Like a lot of our international readership, Team LSP doesn't like to waste steak bones and after they've been gnawed clean they're turned into finely honed push daggers. Waste not, want not.

Crazed Millionaire Socialist

In other news, it looks like the bizarrely overpaid and traitorous Megynne Kelly is switching networks. For more millionaire socialist dollars, presumably. 

Shoot The Gun #TrumpsAmerica

Who is this "Megynne" anyway?

#DUMPKELLOGS

LSP

Hot Chocolate Onesies And Kittens

In Safe Space no one can hear you scream! Anonymous

You're proably wondering, scornfully, "Is LSP capable of serious thought?" Well, maybe not, but George Rutler is. Here's the Upper East Side onetime Anglican on the discouraging "safe space" trend:

"Professors who never attained moral maturity themselves, reacted by providing “safe spaces” for students traumatized by reality. In universities across the land, by a sodality of silliness in the academic establishment, these “safe spaces” were supplied with soft cushions, hot chocolate, coloring books, and attendant psychologists. More than one university in the Ivy League provided aromatherapy along with friendly kittens and puppies for weeping students to cuddle. A college chaplaincy invited students to pray some prescribed litanies that offered God advice in an advisory capacity.

"The average age of a Continental soldier in the American Revolution was one year less than that of a college freshman today. Alexander Hamilton was a fighting lieutenant-colonel when 21, not to mention Joan of Arc who led an army into battle and saved France when she was about as old as an American college sophomore. In our Civil War, eight Union generals and seven Confederate generals were under the age of 25. The age of most U.S. and RAF fighter pilots in World War II was about that of those on college junior varsity teams. Catholics who hoped in this election for another Lepanto miracle will remember that back in 1571, Don Juan of Austria saved Western civilization as commanding admiral when he was 24."

Don Juan was twenty four when he took down the Moslem sea jihad.  Ponder that and as you do, reflect on the West's cultural devolution. Who will save us? Rome? Moscow?

I'm not a betting man but I'd lay odds on the latter. Then again, all the polls were confounded last Tuesday so perhaps there's hope for the West yet.

Sink me, a Guinea on the Monkey.

LSP

Aftermath

Here at the Compound we're drinking strong coffee, dusting off the Steuben and cleaning guns while, ahem, loyal staff polish the Mess silver.

A lot of this fast-paced, hi-stress action takes place on the porch, where Blue Eschaton has set up in vigilant defense.

Crazed

In related news, it seems that Hillary wasn't able to address her party faithful on election night because she'd fallen into a psychotic, drunken rage, clawing at long-suffering staffers while hurling inanimate objects at Mook and the well known Satanist, John Podesta.

A Typical Texan Tailgate

Hell hath no fury, eh? America, looks like you dodged a bullet.

God bless Texas,

LSP

Go On, Shoot Some Guns

To celebrate America's new dawn we loaded up the pickup with guns and headed out to the country. A few minutes later we were on a friend's farm, lining up against a burn pile with a .38 Special, a Glock 21 and an AR15.

Do you remember Hillary? She wanted to ban these guns but failed and fell into a pyschotic drunken rage, tearing at Mook and Podesta as the vote came down past midnight. Boom,  Witch, you lose. A doctor had to administer sedatives, just to calm her down.

The guns performed flawlessly in the searing heat of an autmnal Texan Fall. Take that, 5th Columnist water bottle, take that big time. Same applies to you, Jerrycan, and you too derelict license plate. 

Driving through this town's dystopic outlet mall after the shoot  you couldn't help but notice the legend, Guilt Free Shopping. Maybe that's because all the shops are shut, as in, gone bust. In Trump's America that's going to change, we hope.

After that it was fried pie and what can I say? Life is good.

Gun rights,

LSP

The Light Shines Brightly

And why's that, LSP? Because the evil Witch Crone Harridan, (WCH) Hillary, has been squashed like a roach. So we're celebrating at the Compound with crystal, fine wines, weighty silver, and guns.

Cupcake Crybaby

Make that deadly assault rifles, like the Old Crone was going to ban, but can't because she's been pasted by Trump. Some crybaby cupcakes aren't too happy about that. Too bad, losers, a new Sheriff's in Town. 

You Lose This Round, Satan

The light shines brightly.

Your Friend,

LSP

Product Testing, Shoot The Fiver

The best thing about Great Britain's new currency is that it's indestructible. I know this because a friend from England drifted over to the Compound from Houston with some samples, two "Fivers." I looked at the shiny, holographic plastic currency and she made the pitch, "Look, LSP, this note's indestructible." I wasn't convinced, "Let's see about that. At the range."

Pin it Up

A few traditional range cheeseburgers later, the indestructible Fiver was pinned onto the head of a silhouette and we were ready to product test with a .38 Special snubby, a deadly assault rifle and a Ruger American .22. Would the Fiver live up to its marketing?

Your Old Pal

No. It didn't. In fact it failed dismally, taking rounds right through the paper right out of the gate from the .38. Not a monster round, right? But it did for the Fiver. So did the diminutive 5.56 from the banned-in-England carbine. Bang, right through the Fiver. Maybe that's why they're not allowed in England, who knows.

Banned in England

The lowly .22 did the trick too, sending tiny bullet after bullet right through the Indestructible. Fiver, you fail, but well done, JS, for winning the "knock the Fiver off the silhouette from 50 yards" competition. Good shooting.

Hand Out of Sun, Fool

In fairness to me, I was a bit of a bystander because of a badly burned hand. Keep it out of the blistering Fall sunlight, sort of thing. Still, I experienced it for myself; low caliber bullets go right through Great Britain's shiny, new, so-called indestructible currency. Go right ahead, put all the holographs you like on it but sorry, it's not going to win this FX speculation. The guns had it.

Go Short

Verdict? The new Fiver isn't indestructible. Go short.

With apologies to the great Winston Churchill and HRH EII.

Gun rights,

LSP

What, You Won't Fight Our Frenemies?

ZeroHedge -- As is by now well-known, the U.S. Defense Intelligence Agency’s previously classified 2012 report on the origin of the Islamic insurgency against Bashar al-Assad was released to the public on 18 May 2015, and it revealed the Obama Administration’s knowledge, at least since that time, that «the Salafist [Saudi-backed fundamentalist Sunni Islamic], the Muslim Brotherhood [Qatari-backed fundamentalist Sunni Islamic] and AQI [Al Qaeda in Iraq] are the major forces driving the insurgency in Syria», and acknowledgement that «the West, Gulf countries [Saudi Arabia and Qatar mainly], and Turkey support the opposition [to Bashar al-Assad], while Russia, China, and Iran support the regime», so that the U.S. Government is, in fact, allied with Al Qaeda there, to overthrow Assad.

This pro-Al-Qaeda position was news, however, to America’s military personnel in that region.

Reflect on the NWO skulguggery, malfeasance and outright perfidy of our globalist elitocracy and ask yourself how happy you'd be, defending our Jihad frenemies under the command of Barack Obama and his chosen Illuminati puppet successor, Hillary. Maybe not so much.

I'm off to clean an AR.

Kick out the JAMS.

LSP

Torrential Rain and Mammon

Driving to the second Mass of the day was a bit of a deal because of torrential rain. Who wants to hydroplane across HWY 22 in the downpour? So I took it slow and wore a pair of Wellington boots to keep my 1% inside-the-beltway loafers dry.

In the sacristy I pointed to the boots and asked our MC, who's a renowned bronc champion, if he liked my "new church shoes." He shook his head.

"It's not that bad out there."

"Well c'mon, it was pretty much zero-viz coming up from the compound."

"Look. I'm not interested in your sad little stories, LSP."

"Yeah, said the rich man. You can't serve God and Mammon."

Wellingtons

And that's what the sermon was about, with reference to Dives and Lazarus. Note that the former isn't named in the Gospel, he's nameless and accordingly not written into the book of life. "I do not know you," says Christ, elsewhere, and, "Depart from me ye cursed, into the lake of eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you did not feed me."

A Random Fish

No, the rich man was too busy enjoying the mammonistic gravy train to love God or his neighbor and accordingly found his way to perdition, which is separated from heaven by a great chasm.

Don't Worship This

Some say the god of our age is Mammon. I'd think twice before you pledge allegiance to that particular deity.

God bless,

LSP

Nuance

Everyone knows that this blog is about nuance, about finely weighed principles of cause and effect, theoria and praxis in the life of the mind as it plays out in the public square. Heck, it's like First Things but with pictures of Lena Dunham, Mantids, space aliens and Justsin Welby cruising the pawns.

So that's why we're bringing you Dom Garrigou Lagrange on the sin of intellectual pride:

So filled with their own learning, which has cost them so much, that their souls are saturated with it and no longer open to receive the superior light that would come from God in prayer.

Not bad, eh? In the future, when we win this war, every Harvard professor will have that tattooed on their forehead.

Nuance.

LSP

Stand Up

Wake up! Make your weapons ready, climb into the Ranger and head off for action. That meant driving through the predawn brush to several deer stands and waiting for pigs to come in to corn, molasses and delicious grape Kool Aid powder at around 100 yards.

It was beautiful to be out in the field in the first light and exciting in the stand. That sounds strange, why would waiting around in a small room, some 50 feet in the air, be exciting? Consider the anticipation; would the porcuswine menace take the bait or not, will you get that shot? I tell you, it gets the adrenaline up and we knew the swine were there, no doubt about it; plenty of fresh sign and evidence of rooting. So we waited, in the still Texan dawn.

A Typical Texan Sunrise

And saw lots of deer, more deer than you could shake a Leupold scope at, which was good. It proved the bait was working and there's a satisfaction in getting your cross hairs lined up for a perfect shoulder shot, even if you don't take it.

There were turkeys, too. One minute you're glassing a deer and the next there's something gray in your peripheral vision, on the ground by the corn. Pigs! Or was it? Closer inspection revealed a tribe of turkeys, strutting and pecking at the delicious Kool Aid corn. But no pigs.

Come on, Pigs

Then it was back to the compound on the Ranger for breakfast, weapons hot and ready for random swine, who cleverly stayed out of our way. Still, it pays to be on the look out because you never know when the tusked furies will appear on their snorting path of destruction. Scope covers off, gentlemen.

On The Road

So that was the pattern for four mornings, and while we didn't see any pigs it was all a first for the kids and big adventure in itself. But that's not all.

Stay tuned,

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