All In A Day

 

First up, brew strong covfeve on the Compound's annoyingly electric stovetop, must get a gas variant, so much better. Regardless, I use one of those Pedrini espresso contraptions, which offers up the right stuff, at least for me. Perhaps you have a different method and that's fine, no rule. Coffee on the go, feed the dog on the back porch, scan Telegram channels for Ost Front news, and go back in the house, your coffee's ready.

Drink that, take a morning constitutional to the Pick 'n Steal, run through your homily on the Front Porch, it should be memorized, then launch into Mass #1. This is said, oriented, Rite I 1979 BCP, Which means, all you liturgical trads, that it's seemly and in order, if not in Latin. OK, maybe that's a defect, but liturgical Tudor ain't bad either.

The sacrifice ascended, get in the rig and drive to the lake for Mass #2. This too is oriented, face the East and rising sun all you priests, who are supposed to lead the people towards the risen Christ as opposed to chairing some kind of circular Punch 'n Judy show. Well, there's room for that too, perhaps, but this Mass is sung and again, all is seemly, reverent and in order, in a country mission kind of way.

Curiously, the people won't leave their seats until all the candles have been put out on the Altar after Mass. "I say," I asked a former Provost of Baylor who attends faithfully, "Are we all Zeroastrians now?" He chuckled in a provostian kind of way, but surely it's a good thing for the congregation to sit in silent prayer for a few minutes after Mass. In fact, we're supposed to give thanks for inestimable benefit of the sacrament we've received and so reverent silence is by no means out of place. And then?

After a few sunny hellos, climb back in the rig to give Last Rites or Extreme Unction to man in ICU in Cleburne. He's a good man and a faithful, devout, catholic Christian who ran into a cactus and got spiked by a needle. The wound became infected and he, in his '80s, fell into grievous condition. You might pray for him, his name is Jack.

Sickbed seen to, head for home and, if you're me, try to take a short nap. But how can you when the times we live in are so interesting, if appalling. Question: How did Trump's security team fail to surveil the shooter's position and, if they'd done so, why did they allow the boy to loose off a few rounds? Rumors of malfeasance abound.

Your Old Buddy,

LSP

Those Stupid Ignorant Slavs

 

We're war experts, here at the Compound, which is why we're baying for blood and moar war against Russia. Some of you may have noticed this weird trend, namely, that going to war against Russia doesn't go well. See Der Fuhrer and Boney.

Just look at them dance. I say again, is Putin the new Constantine? Or would that be Tiberius?

Salve,

LSP

Well Here We Are

 

Typical Compound Scene

Have you noticed the accelerating insanity of the present age? Of course you have, we're $33T in debt at interest to a cabal of banksters. POCs are going full chimpout in Philly, young women are cutting their breasts off because "freedom," our southern border's open, a gang of corrupt crooks are in control of our governance and we're funding a proxy war to the tune of billions and on and on.

Oh dear, this is why we can't have nice things

Now here's the thing. This country is majority church-going Christian, so why did we allow atheist satanists to ban prayer in public school (state school, UK bros), Baphomet worshiping nihilists to trans our kids, and Net Zero hucksters to live in our airspace. Oh, and enshrine a blasphemous parody of marriage as some kind of constitutional right.

General Lee, Man of God

Why? Because we've been asleep at the wheel and that's got to stop. Here's General Lee, above.

Your Old Pal,

LSP

Clean It Up

 

Here's the thing. It's great having a Compound, it really is, but they have this tendency to turn into Jungle Warfare Training Schools. Trees fall down, Trumpet Vine takes over, hedges go wild and before you know it the whole thing's a right mess. And that's a bad witness, so what to do?

Thank God a couple of good men from Mission #2 turn up with truck, trailer and industrial grade tools, not least a chainsaw. Slice that fallen pecan wood up, boys, and they did. So on we worked, clearing up the grounds.

One of the men founded Dallas SWAT and subsequently worked in local LE. His method? "Issue as few warrants as possible," ie, sort it out locally. What a good man and a great cop.

Thanks guys, the Compound's clean now,

LSP

Excelsior

 

The many readers of this widely read mind blog have asked, "What's it like, really like, at the Compound." A very good question  and in answer?

Your Old Pal,

LSP

PARIS

 

A pal's in Paris, France, running some kind of gig or "show" for Chanel. That means, as I understand it, being driven around in a limo to all these Parisienne places. Hey, rock on, and moar power to you but the question is, will you meet Coco?

Possibly. Look out for pearls, lots of them, and don't even consider uttering no for an answer. In the meanwhile we continue stalwart, indomitable, here in our Texan Compound. And that's no small thing.

What can we say?  Excelsior! 

Buy the dip,

LSP

Such Utter Disaster

 

Utter disaster. Try putting your handheld computing device on the hood of the rig and cleverly driving away, forgetting about the miracle of technology resting on the bonnet. Thirty minutes later, by the Lake and Stations of the Cross, you ask yourself, where's the dam phone?

It was lying, smashed, in the middle of a crossroads near the Compound, and I picked it up after a devil in the detail drive home. There you are, fella, welcome back. But the mini computer was irretrievably busted and smashed, so I went to T Mobile for a replacement.

The TM persynn asked me what I wanted to buy, and I figured a brand new, up to the minute Samsung phone. Time to upgrade and spend some money. Salesguy sensibly said no, save your money, get the same thing without the brand at way less cost. In fact, why not buy my old phone?

What? How much? 200 bucks, same phone we're selling for 400. Yours, for cash. I couldn't say no to an obvious deal. But had to ask, "Don't you lose on commission, I mean, you just lost a sale." He replied, "We only get 5 dollars a sale, so so what. I hate corporate, in fact, I want to join the Army, get into IT." We talked about that, and phones.

Your Pal,

LSP

Just Strolling

There was a stillness in the air as the sun rose above this small redoubt on the Texan Front. That's because everyone was sensibly in bed before braving the Thanksgiving Day Supermarket Maelstrom. I gazed at the frost, had a cup of hot tea, said Morning Prayer and took Blue Eschaton for a walk.

We went by a small but patriotic compound which seems to be in a constant state of yard sale. You know the thing, broken records, a bent bicycle wheel, soggy clothes in a wet cardboard box, a few old rusty spoons, a doorless fridge, whatever. A bit like the Tramp Market under the London's Westway in the early 1990s.

"Must get this crew into church," I thought to myself as I passed Jose's new house. Jose's bought some wooden fencing to mark the boundary between his compound and the yard sale scrappers' but he hasn't put it up yet.

The Pick 'n Steal was empty, apart from the Owl idol, and I poured some coffee into a Yeti 20 Ounce Tumbler, guaranteed to keep your drink hot or cold, no matter what kind of beating you give it. I'm inclined to doubt Yeti's marketing but haven't put it to the test, stay tuned.

Coffee poured into the purportedly indestructible Yeti, I strolled across the way to the Disciples Christian Church, at least I think that's what it is but it's hard to remember. They're a small crew but friendly, good luck to 'em.

We stopped up behind the temple and Blue got to nose about while I took a few sips of Yeti insulated coffee. Yes, thanks to Yeti's special system the coffee was still hot even though the Tumbler hadn't taken a beating, well done. 

I looked around while Blue Appalling did unmentionable things and took in the quiet Texan street scene. This part's well put together and a few young families make the effort to make it nice, in pleasant contrast to the crackheads, fools and wastrels that live down the block.

We moved on, patrolling beneath the locust trees, keeping an eye out for malfeasant skulduggery from the ne'er-do-well rent shacks on the left. But they were fast asleep and Blue Attack missed his chance at glory.

And there it was, the Compound, flags waving, chairs gleaming and all was well. The day moved on from there, much of it on the porch, but that's a different story. 

So there it is, another morning's worth of country life in Texas.

Quas Primas,

LSP

Assault And Battery White Wolf Remix

This one's for the White Wolf Mine and LL. I won't won't comment further except to say that a RAMPART needs a TOWER and we're all looking forward to the PLANE, which is important.

Fields of Fire and lock her up,

LSP

It's Bushcraft Wednesday!

In our complex and artificial society, some would call it an anti-society, it's easy to lose track of the way things really are, it's easy to get out of tune with nature. That's where Bushcraft steps in.

Bushcraft is all about doing it yourself, in the bush, in the woods; it's about getting back to nature and rediscovering your connection to the way things really are, without modern conveniences like shopping malls and the Nanny State.

Being able to read the signs of the woods is a part of this rediscovery, and here at the Compound we hope you find this infovideo as helpful as we do.

Tracker,

LSP