Fish On - Or Not

 

Thanks to our ongoing War Against The Weather it was cool this morning, only in the low/mid 80s. So whaddya do? After a brisk morning constitutional and Morning Prayer, 1928 BCP thank you very much on the front porch, head off to the lake. And that's exactly what happened.

Were the fish biting? Yes, they were, but not in a good way. These were ferocious little bites from ferocious little fish. Still fun on a light rod but hard to close the deal, and you start to feel like you're feeding the fish as they snatch and tug worms off your line. Huh.

Mildly annoyed at being a kind of food pantry for our aquatic adversary, I persevered and caught the main perpetrator, a ferocious little perch, a bait fish really, and I cast the little beast back into the depths on the end of the line as just that, bait. Did it produce a result?

It can do, no kidding, I've caught good sized striper from that very point using the exact same method, but today? No. Nothing. Yes, there were plenty of junior perch darting about but no mighty bass to catch them or be caught. Maybe the bass were sleeping after gorging on all the baitfish, maybe they were taking a Biden style nap after the rigor of actually waking up for the day, maybe, like our Commander in Chief, they weren't there at all.

Sensing that, with the sun now high in the sky, I headed across the dam to see if the legendary Lake Whitney spillway would yield up the goods. Sure enough, there was a cowboy fishing off the pier. You could tell he was a cowboy because he wore a straw hat and his flatbed truck had ranch brand logos on it. There he was, a cowboy, fishing.

not today, buddy

"How's it going, man?" I offered by way of piscine greeting, "Whole lotta bait fish here, like wow," and there were, great schools of shad and minnows. But he hadn't caught anything apart from a baby cat, and I commiserated with the tale of my baby perch, and off we went to cast again. With no luck whatsoever.

Sure, there were lots of shad, some large(ish), mid-sized gar floating lazily about the pool like submarines, a few buffalo carp being equally lazy, and none of them hitting on anything we put into the water. My cowboy pal left and I fished on, enjoying the clean Texan air, the sight of the mighty Brazos, and the sheer pleasure of being outside in the country. 

Must do more of that, most especially when the bass catch up to their watery prey. Hopefully that'll be soon. More anon.

Cheers,

LSP

Laying Down Smoke

 

A sister flies in from the Old Country, so whaddya do? Climb in the rig and strike out for the Metrosprawl. Once there, fire up the Weber Thesis, enjoy some of the right stuff and apply beer can chicken to the grill when the coals have done their thing.

It's not hard. Brush the chick with olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Admire your handiwork as you insert a can of beer into the bird's crevice, maybe drink some beer while you're at it, and then place the thing on the grill over indirect heat. So important, indirect heat.

Then cover the grill and let heat do its magic for 1 hour, 15 minutes, turning the chick around at half point so that the breast faces the coals. Take it out. Let it rest. Then fall upon your scoff like a warrior, job well done.

But of course you know all this, beer can chicken, a go-to here in the States. In the UK? Maybe not so much. Speaking of which, this sister's in the process of relocating to Reading, not far from London, where house prices are nosebleed high. Well done her, but how do the Brits afford it? They can't, not really, at least not most of them, and the same thing's not far off here too. Solution?

Easy. Our Beloved Rulers at Black Rock et al own everything and rent it back to us, at extreme profit. And guess what, you won't be able to afford meat anymore, much less chicken, and half the country will vote for it because Climate Change. Then wonder why they're only allowed to eat bugs as they glory in their tiny 1500 USD pcm studio apartment. 

I won't bang on, 

LSP

Boots On The Ground

 

A rambunctious young soldier walked through the door, "Hi Dad, what's up?" I took a pause from selling AI inventory (What?? Yes, it's true) and said, "Here, look at this," and showed off the new CZ 20, "Let's go for a shoot." Smiles all 'round. But first things first, clean up those dusty old boots.

That's right, a pair of Ariat Heritage which have been  all over the shop, from Africa to Canada and in between. Good boots, but here's the thing, if you don't look after 'em they fall apart, not unlike guns, when you think about it. So I gave the things a good going over with mink oil. This helps waterproof the leather and keeps it supple. It's not even hard to do, just put some mink oil magic on your mink oil brush and give the boots a sturdy scrub.

Well done, boots ready to go, you're ready to go, pre-mission objective accomplished, but then disaster struck. That's right, the climate changed. It does that, you see, and it did it again today, with thunder starting to rumble like opening salvos in the battle of Kursk, followed by rain which spat against the wooden walls of this old house.

We watched the storm from the shelter of the front porch, "I guess we're not going shooting, eh?" No, we weren't, so we talked Army.

Now, all the world knows that the US Army has a grievous recruitment problem, to the tune of a 40k+ shortfall. Not good, especially when our beloved rulers are baying for moar war. Solution? My eldest told me, "What they're doing is getting all these new E5s to become recruiters. Doesn't matter if they're unfit or whatever, make Sergeant and off you go. That's what I was told."

"Huh," I replied, staring out at a tumultuous Texan sky, "That's no good," and the kid agreed. "Did you know recruiters have the highest suicide level rate in the Army?" I didn't, and he continued, "But here's the thing, if I turn down Recruiter I can put in a Drill Packet."

"Now that, old chap, makes a lot of sense in your case, you'd be good at it," and he would, his face fits. Not only that, it's a two year thing and he'd have time to finish off a degree and then move on to OCS. That's his plan, and it's a good plan. But back to the recruitment crisis.

"You know, Dad, I was talking with our First Sergeant and he told me, 'How are we going to fix recruitment, by taking on a lot of recruiters or by paying our soldiers more than three bucks an hour?' Yeah, and I said hey, you're preaching to the converted."

Like really. Maybe, just maybe, we'd get more recruits if we actually paid our soldiers more than junior burger flippers, to say nothing of all the risible rainbow garbage and the fact that patriots, young men and women who want to serve their country, aren't too keen on signing up to fight for the Demented Old Crook and associates. The very people who actively hate them and everything they stand for.

We talked about all this, there on the porch as the rain crashed down, and have rescheduled our shoot till after the boy gets back from a mission in California. I look forward to that. Semper.

Your Old Friend,

LSP

Farmers Revolt

 

You may not have noticed that there's been a farmers' revolt in France, Germany and the Netherlands because our honest as the day's long objective media won't report it, but there has. 

Thousands of farmers in tractors have been taking to the Autobahns of Garden Europa to protest their beloved WEF, DAVOS elite rulers from driving them out of business in the name of Climate Change, snerk.

As in, "We have to close your stupid little farms down and buy them for pennies on the Reichsmark or the icecaps will melt and you'll all freeze to death in the new Ice Age and be eaten by migrating Polar Bears, because it's colder because it's hotter, thanks to you, methane spewing "farmers."

The farmers aren't too keen on this blatant land grab and accordingly blockaded all the roads leading into Paris. Quite a move. I read somewhere that the blockade will be for five days, maybe make that thirty? Just a thought.

And behold the sheer genius of our agitprop. We, the ultra rich, want control over everything so that we can rent it out to you, if you're lucky, and get even moar richer. But how? Tell your rainbow worshiping people that it's "green" and watch them bay for more, even as they shout for war.

Good luck, farmers, starve 'em out,

LSP

SNOW

 

It's freezing here, literally freezing. Biting wind cuts through the icy boulevards of this once prosperous Texan farming community. Yes, once prosperous, but someone forgot to pay their Weather Tax and now our Old Enemy is exacting its revenge.

Lake Whitney

Snow, ice, bitter wind and glowering, leaden grey skies. Very little moves, how could it, it's frozen, and worse is yet to come. Weather Seers are predicting an ice storm will hit this erstwhile cotton town later tonight.

A typical Compound room scene

We'll see who and what survives the latest attack by General Winter, who knows. But one thing is certain, we stand firm, resolute, unbroken before our ancient adversary, no, we will not pay the tax. Speaking of which, some of you may have noticed the curious twists and turns of Lib Logic.

This is what happens to your library and writing room when you don't pay the dam tax

As in, it's colder now because it's hotter, which is why you have to pay us moar money so you'll be trans DEI richer.

See you on the other side,

LSP

BREATH TAX

 

Tax That Terrorism

Everyone knows we're in a war, a bitter war, a vicious war, a no-holds-barred war against a ruthless enemy, the Weather. You see, what happens is this. Thanks to man-made Carbon Dioxide (CO2) emissions, fragile planet earth is shrouded in CO2 and heats up like a greenhouse, which melts the glaciers and floods Vanatu and Martha's Vineyard. Disaster.

So Not Satanic

Polar bears die, sad, and multi-million dollar mansions get washed away in the flood of rising sea water, tragic. Awful, and it's all down to Carbon Dioxide being spewed out by us, humans. So to save the planet we must stamp out Carbon Dioxide. Yes, you may even have heard the slogan, NET ZERO. That means no more. Absolutely zero CO2. The venerable if shrinking Church of England's all in favor of this, obviously, but here's the thing.

Note Bear

Humans produce CO2, Carbon Dioxide, it's a function of breathing, and accounts for 0.1% of the UK's Gaia destroying carbon emissions says the Sceptered Isle's Daily Mail. This is a problem, to put it mildly. Here at the Compound we propose a solution, tax the air. Here's a song:

On topic, don't you think?

LSP

Bear Attacks Surge In Japan

 

2023 is a record year for bear attacks in Japan, that fabled land of the rising sun. Yes, some 203 persyns have been attacked by the furry beasts this years alone, a record. According to CNN via Breitbart, the hungry bears are looking for acorns and find tasty human flesh instead:

“The thing is that you can have years of bad harvests and years of good harvest of acorns,” contends Maki Yamamoto of Nagaoka University of Technology. “And when the harvest is bad, the bears cannot store enough energy before hibernation by eating mountain acorns alone, so they get closer to human settlements looking for fruits, chestnuts, persimmons, walnuts, and farm products in general.”

So why the sudden uptick in ursine attack? Climate Change, obviously, which is why we all need to be taxed moar or we'll get eaten by bears.

Cheers,

LSP

Sunny Southern Weather

 

One day it's Albertan ice and snow, and the next? Balmy autumnal Texas where everyone's enjoying porchlife in the temperate 70s, beautiful. Well, enjoy it while you can before the New Ice Age kicks in. Speaking of climate catastrophe, say a prayer for Linda, whose homestead's threatened by a seriously aggressive weather front. In other news, I found this uplifting, via LL:

 

“There can be no divided allegiance here. Any man who says he is an American, but something else also isn’t an American at all. We have room for but one flag, the American flag, and this excludes the red flag, which symbolizes all wars against liberty and civilization just as much as it excludes any foreign flag of a nation to which we are hostile. We have room for but one language here, and that is the English language, for we intend to see that the crucible turns our people out as Americans of American nationality and not as dwellers in a polyglot boarding house. We have room for one sole loyalty, which is to the American people.” — Theodore Roosevelt.

 

Granted, I fly several flags, not least the Bonnie Blue, but still. Then there's the NSA, which has fallen in love with the pernicious rainbow. Why, because national security?

 

Let’s start here with the Daily Wire. The NSA’s 34-page glossary defines hundreds of social justice terms, including “white fragility,” “transmisogyny,” and “settler colonialism.” If you don’t buy into the bullshit, you shouldn’t work there. “But the agency, which has been sharply criticized for its mass surveillance operations on American citizens, goes beyond openly endorsing the extreme tenets of Critical Race Theory with its glossary — it pushes queer theory as an approach that ‘critically deconstructs and challenges binaries such as male and female or heterosexual and homosexual.'”

Just think, readers, how much more secure we are as a nation for actively deconstructing binaries, you know, like "right and wrong." Awesome, now the NSA can spy on everyone with gay impunity and our beloved rulers can do whatever they want, do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law, sorta thing.

So who's in charge here, a gang of satanic Crowleyite Lao Tze Maoists? Asking for a friend.

Cheers,

LSP

Climate Change

 

Here's the thing, the land of the ice and snow was more like the land of t shirt and shorts for most of the past week. Obviously someone remembered to pay their carbon tax, and then they didn't. Yesterday dawned grey and chill, with the cold seeping into your Arctyrx fleece as a harbinger of things to come, Winter.

the climate has changed

So I took the young 'un out for an enormous burger at the Inglewood Diner, tasty, and prophesied, "Son, it feels like snow." He agreed, and sure enough that's exactly what happened. A biting wind kicked in at around 6 pm and white supremacy fell from the sky, indifferent to the fate of the oppressed.

random Canadian fridge magnet

"Look, Dad," exclaimed Junior LSP, "A winter wonderland!" And so it was, "Welcome to Narnia, Son." We spent the rest of the evening watching John Wick movies along with superlative Chinese food ordered up from Chinatown. Big fun.

brrrrr

Today dawned clear, crisp and bright, beautiful. Climate Change, you see, has its benefits and to celebrate this I shoveled the sidewalk and scraped ice off the car. Then SL's rig pulled up from High River and off we went to the airport, mission accomplished.

Stay Frosty,

LSP

Thunder Eshaton

 

Yeah, go right ahead and post on Thunderbirds and see where it mythically gets you. Good call, LSP, now you're right in the middle of a ferocious, apocalyptic thunder storm. No kidding, the heavens are crashing down with eschatalogical fury.

At first I thought it was shrapnel bouncing off the justified and ancient timbers of the house but no, it was hail. I know this because I went outside to look at the lightshow and an icy boulder clocked me in the eye. Dam painful, I can tell you.

Would the rig be alright along with the planet itself? Good questions, so go outside with a flashlight to find out. All OK, thank God, and the storm passed over with its massive and predatory birds. We live to fight again another day.

All Hail Texas,

LSP

TREEPOCALYPSE

 

Well, kind of. Two big branches fell from two big pecan trees into the back yard of the Compound, doubtless the victims of climate change and or global warming. I looked at them, hanging and lying on the parched, cracked earth of this part of North Central Texas.

If only we'd paid more tax and made our Illuminati NWO Vizier Satraps even wealthier than they are already. Why then, none of this ecological catastrophe would've happened. As it is, we'll have to get in there with carbon guzzling chainsaws and sort that pecan wood out, maybe tomorrow.

Speaking of Satraps, did you know that in late antiquity the Byzantine authority set up on the Palatine Hill in Rome, in the very palaces of the Emperors. Imagine them, looking out from decayed imperial grandeur on the vast ruin field of what had been a city of a million inhabitants.

Reflecting on this, along with Gregory the Great, Pantheon bronze and the Phocian Column, to say nothing of Justinian and Belisarius, I walked the dog to the Pick 'n Steal through a golden Texan sunset. Beautiful, and I thanked God for it, Providence is quite a thing.

That in mind, hope everyone had a great Labor Day and sang the Internationale unceasingly.

Net Zero Forever,

LSP

IT RAINED

 

We certainly live in an age of miracle and wonder, it rained yesterday evening. One minute a blazing hot sun in a clear blue sky and the next, dark clouds rolling in from the West. There they were, overhead, above the Compound, but would it actually rain or was this some kind of cruel joke.

No, it was not a joke. Slow, fat, drops began to fall from the sky as the temperature went right down and then more, faster. Not with the full fury of a Texan storm but not bad either, so I went out onto the front porch to behold the sheer bliss of the thing. Rain. Beautiful.

typical Texas street scene

Then, all too soon, the rain stopped, but I'm not complaining, everything cooled right down. Let's see more of this climate change.

Happily,

LSP

SKYWATER

 

Here in Texas we call it skywater, water that literally falls from the sky, and we haven't had any since May - until this afternoon. It began slowly, tentative drops patterning the sidewalk, please don't stop, then picked up pace.

Astounded, I stood on the porch, looking out in wonder. Wow, actual rain, you could see it, and with the skywater came thunder, lightning and a sudden drop in temperature. Beautiful.

Then it stopped, but for how long. Even now, dark clouds are rolling in from the West; will they break and unleash a cataclysmic storm upon this small heat stricken country town? 

Here at the Compound we watch and wait, expectant.

Eschaton,

LSP

Fire

 

Remember the old line, "It's so hot the air might ignite, like a thermobaric munition"? Maybe you think that's hyperbole, think again punters. 

A friend's place caught fire yesterday afternoon while they were baling and it stopped, thank God, within 100 yards of their barn and house. In the meanwhile, some 300 acres burned; all it takes is a spark and massive failure to pay the Weather Tax. So be careful out there kids. 

On topic, learned people from the UK keep sending me Lit suggestions, books to read, and that's a very fine thing except for the fact it's hard to read here as paper tends to ignite.

Cheers,

LSP

A Bit Chilly!

 

Now that everyone's recovered from yesterday's curious juxtaposition of Thomist hymnody and Millwall FC, we can all sit back and enjoy the refreshingly cool breeze of a Texan summer evening.  Except that we can't because it's like a preheating oven out there and it's not even August.

Rhodie doesn't seem too fazed by it though, despite having a fur coat, and spends his time sleeping inside when not patrolling the perimeter. In fact, he got a bit adventurous last night and went off on an unauthorized recce patrol.

Where's the dog? I asked myself. Nowhere to be seen, but there he was on the front porch at first light, sleeping, safe and sound. Glad he had the sense to nav back to the den.

Try not to melt out there,

LSP

MIllionaire Leftist Dunderhead

 

Wunderwaffe

Do you remember when it was Global Warming? Because of all the carbon-spewing industrialisms that were going to destroy the planet, with their carbon? Yes, we all do, Global Warming, such a terrible thing. Then it became Climate Change.

thanks, LL

Dam, the weather changes and might kill us all, better pay moar tax. And that's what the climate grifters did, wrote off checks to their friends in the name of Net Zero at the expense of you, the Weather Serf. And guess what, the delta-minus serfs believed it. All hail K Street Marcom!

Seriously, genius. But I'll leave you with this. Raytheon, all hallowed MIC integer that it is, invited the world to applaud its latest naval anti-air munition, the jolly little green Sea Sparrow. Make of this what you will.

Your Tzarist Pal,

LSP

ESCHATON

 

Thunder and lightning SMASH down upon this small asset-stripped Texan farming community, shaking the ancient wooden timbers (what?) of the Compound. Like no kidding, a ferocious storm, turning night into day with all the fury of an electric universe.

Yes indeed, the climate's changed with elemental, eschatological fury. And so we stand, undaunted, on the rain lashed porch, daring our adversary to do its worst. 

Seriously, this storm's pretty crazy, be safe out there.

Apocalypse,

LSP

Corpus Christi Storm

 

Thunder rumbled like a celestial artillery barrage as the heavens opened and rain lashed down with cascading fury. Seriously, climate change got real and I had to pull over to the side of the road on the way to Mass. Clearly Hill County had forgotten to pay its carbon tax.

But maybe Bosque had because it was clear skies and sunny southern weather once you got over the dam which blocks the mighty Brazos, creating Lake Whitney. A great place to fish, for sure, and a good place to celebrate the Mass to boot, not far from one of Belle Starr's hideouts.

A typical Texas Storm

I keep meaning to visit what's left of her small 100 acre ranch, which once played host to the James Gang and other bushwhackers turned outlaw. All in good time, but in the meanwhile it's Corpus Christi, so here's a prayer.

Deus, qui nobis sub Sacramento mirabili Passionis tuae memoriam reliquisti; tribue, quaesumus, ita nos Corporis et Sanguinis tui sacra mysteria venerari, ut redemptionis tuae fructum in nobis iugiter sentiamus: Qui vivis et regnas in saecula saeculorum. Amen.

 

And in English:

O God, who under a wonderful Sacrament hast left us a memorial of Thy Passion; grant us, we beseech Thee, so to venerate the sacred mysteries of Thy Body and Blood, that we may ever feel within ourselves the fruit of Thy Redemption: Thou who livest and reignest forever and ever. Amen.

 

Powerful prayers and do you think that a nation, people or persons who openly mock God will somehow escape the storm of his judgement?

O Salutaris,

LSP

Rain Books Dog

 

You never know what our Old Enemy the Weather will throw at you. Today it launched rain and for a time the heavens opened and there it was, sky water, beautiful. In the midst of it all a call came through, "Padre, can you help load up some shelves for the food bank?"

Sure I could and did, especially as it was right across the way from the Compound. Lo and behold, this good deed came with an unexpected benefit, as is so often the case, notably a set of medium sized bookshelves, "All yours, LSP."

Benzinger

Good, I needed these because of a recent influx of books from my dad's library. He was a a bibliophile and we've only just, after a decade, got around to moving the books from Dallas to the Compound. Net result? Many boxes of books on the floor of a guest room waiting to be shelved, a nightmare of unfinished business.

But after a few shelvish hours it was nightmare over and books off the floor, what an affordable result. In the meanwhile, the climate had changed too, bizarrely, our enemy is so unpredictable, and the sun shone from a clear, big, blue Texan sky.

Where is the dog? I asked myself. Downstairs, on the porch, in the bathroom, in a guestroom, in my room, going den behind the couch? No, none of these, Blue Veteran was nowhere to be found. So I climbed in the rig and drove around the area looking for the pup, and found him a couple of blocks away, grinning like a dog.

He was happy to be lifted into the truck and happier still for the adventure of it all. OK, he's an old dog, blind and deaf, but he still enjoys life. I feel I should take him out to the range to roam about and feel free, he'd like that. Is this overly sentimental?

On topic, do you think that those who read and keep libraries will be the kernel of civilization when our current demonic babel implodes?

Ex Libris,

LSP