Happy Columbus Day!

Here at the Compound we'd like to wish everyone a happy Columbus day as we celebrate the discovery of America by the great explorer and navigator. 

Of course the Left's outraged by the heroic Captain and want to turn Columbus Day into the catchy, let's party, Indigenous Peoples Day. Who knows, maybe they'll get their way and we'll all be dancing beneath the jolly old Skull Wall this time next year.

Speaking of which, the Conquistadors certainly had their faults but human sacrifice and cannibalism weren't amongst them.

Cheers,

LSP

Are We At Planned Parenthood Peak Demonic?

I try to keep this shallow light-hearted mind blog amusing in a snarky kebob stand corner of the internet kind of way, but this is serious, deadly serious. Planned Parenthood has been selling organs harvested from still living aborted babies to biotech firms, who then sell them to laboratories and wherever else. 

Grasp this fact, and it is a fact, get hold of it in your mind, reflect on it. Living babies, whose hearts beat and brains function, are being cut up and sold, it's not even under dispute. We know this because David Daleiden was brave enough to expose the heinousness and found himself sued by the killers. Lifesitnews reports:

SAN FRANCISCO, September 6, 2019 (LifeSiteNews) — The CEO of StemExpress essentially admitted in court Thursday that her biotech company supplies beating fetal hearts and intact fetal heads to medical researchers.

She also admitted at the preliminary hearing of David Daleiden and Sandra Merritt of the Center for Medical Progress that the baby’s head could be procured attached to the baby’s body or “could be torn away.”

You can read the whole thing here and you pretty much won't read it anywhere else, because reporting on corporations trafficking in the organs of living babies obviously isn't newsworthy at this point in time. Which begs the question, what have we become?

The Spaniards recoiled in horror at the sight of human sacrifice offered up in the Valley of Mexico, they were Christians, however flawed. We ignore it, more than that, we prosecute the people who expose it.

If our culture hasn't reached peak demonic it's right about there, and ask yourself, at what point will the scales of divine justice tilt against us beyond repair? Be sure there will be a reckoning.

Stand up and defeat this evil, lives depend on it.

LSP 

El Conquistador

One of the things people like to do in this town is eat Tex Mex at El Con. El Con is short for El Conquistador and that's where you'll find everyone on any given Friday evening.

I don't know why but no one accuses El Con of cultural appropriation and nobody seems to notice the restaurant's brazen stand for Spanish imperial conquest.

It's strange, but there's no movement here to replace the place's unashamedly colonial brand with something more "woke," like Los Incas, Azteca or El Jolly Old Skull Wall. That's just not happening and the name remains along with a militarist suit of armor, horse totems and a couple of clay bull idols.

A Typical Aztec Skull Tower. They Cannibalized the Rest of the Victim

After a hearty meal in honor of Cortez, we were well satisfied. Pizarro and the gang sure know how to cook up a plate of Tres Enchiladas; cheese, it being Friday. Good work, conquistadors!

It was raining outside as we left and that too was good. At last the humid sauna of Rainforest Texas was broken by water falling from the sky as lightning flashed noiselessly overhead.

God bless,

LSP

Monasteries of the Mind

Here's some excellence from Victor Davis Hanson, writing for the National Review and commenting on the culture in Monasteries of the Mind:

The Oscar awards? It too has become cultural Newspeak, with limited themes and scripted vocabulary. Watching hours of multimillionaires gushing about their own psychodramas was always trying, but in the age of Gary Cooper, Henry Fonda, Jimmy Stewart, Katharine Hepburn, and Maureen O’Hara, the stars at least showed some dignity and authentic eccentricity. Now entertainment awards ceremonies are mostly predictable rants, as if career success required speaking “truth” to power in a collective Two Minutes Hate exercise condemning the president, who serves as our new Emmanuel Goldstein. How odd that liberalism became elites’ groupthink about equality — or perhaps not so odd at all, given Orwell’s observation that “all animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others.”

Hanson suggests a parallel with the Roman Empire. As it became increasingly globalized, frenetic and devoid of surety and meaning, people opted out; to Stoicism, for example, and later on to the monastic life. Likewise today, in the face cultural inanity people are switching off. 

When everything is politicized, everything is monotonous; nothing is interesting. There are only so many ways one can express existential hatred for Trump, turn the Aztecs into the Founding Fathers, or show disrespect for the National Anthem (Kneeling? Or clenched fist held high? Or just sitting? Or turning one’s back? Or talking over the music?). So millions tune out and retreat to reading what was written before 1980, or to watching movies of a past age or seeking their own tribal ties of the mind.

Hanson concludes his quick stroll through the progressive left's garden of the inanities by describing the newly erected Aztec totem in his hometown.

I went into what once was our sleepy hometown the other day. An Aztec totem devoted to Coatlicue, the earth-mother goddess, portrayed as a paean to noble farm workers, sits in the old park. The huge monolith is sculpted quite well and by a talented former colleague at CSU Fresno. Its dedication was widely reported; no one was so rude as to mention that Coatlicue was a fierce mother goddess to whom captives were sacrificed each year. (She wore a necklace of human hearts and hands and a cloak of skin.) But identity-politics art is never free from overt propaganda: The modern epigraph atop our Coatlicue reads “Viva la Raza” (“Long live the Race”). I don’t recall anyone in the city’s supposed illiberal past ever suggesting that “Long live the race” would have been an acceptable epigraph on any city art.

Right on the money and you can read the whole thing here, but be warned. The author appears to have a fondness for the disturbing and possibly repellent Joan Baez. Coatlicue is a kind of female snake demon.

God bless,

LSP