Ride & Shoot

One of the benefits of living in rural Texas is that you can marvel at the sheer greenness of the grass as you ride your horse through the Lone Star State's verdant water meadows. 

My philisophical pal, GWB, would say that Texas is locked into radical mimetic rivalry with the Emerald Isle. He's heavily influenced by some Frenchman called "Girard."

Then you get out in the open and pick up a gallop, wind in your face and Frenchmen forgotten as your horse's neck lengthens and she gets into her stride. Charge! No end of exhilaration.

Ride over, head off to the ranch's range and test out a rifle. Just you, the gun and the countryside in the setting sun. 

I like the muzzle flash as dusk closes in, not that I'm immature or anything. Come to think of it, tracers might be neat too...

God Bless Texas,

LSP

Temptation in the Wilderness, Giant Donkey

In today's Gospel, Christ is tempted by Satan in the wilderness, at the peak of which he's taken to the top of a mountain and shown all the kingdoms of the world. "All this power will I give thee, and the glory of them: for that is delivered unto me; and to whomsoever I will I give it," says Satan, who continues with the proviso, "If thou therefore wilt worship me, all shall be thine."

What we see here is an inverse or anti-Sinai. On the holy mountain Moses is given the divine law, to love and worship the true God and him alone, and to love our neighbor. On the Devil's mountain we're told to worship the false God, Satan, and to indulge ourselves. The temptations begin with the latter, "Command this stone that it be made bread."

I took that as an opportunity to preach on fasting, for the first time ever, or at least for any length, and can't recall ever hearing a sermon on the subject. A serious omission; after all, if it's good enough for Christ, it's good enough for Christians, and by it we wage a kind of war against concupiscence and our disordered passions and appetites. Those of you who know what it's like in LSPland will understand that I was preaching to myself. 

After the Masses I went for a ride and one of the Troop rode a donkey, most definitely the biggest donkey I've ever seen. It was a right giant of a beast.

What a fine way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

Stay on the horse,

LSP

Ride The Horse

It was a balmy 68* in the Texan winter, as I galloped up a hill on my friend's ranch, which made me wonder if I'd made the right decision in wearing a lined denim jacket. "It's kind of warm in this coat," I cleverly informed my equestrian friend, "but you know what, it protects against thorns." And so it did, they're a hazard.

A Typical Texan Road

We rested on top of the hill and looked out over the countryside to I35, some 10 or 12 miles in the distance, with the setting sun reflecting off trucks making their way north and south along the highway. There we were in the saddle, with the sunset behind us, and there was the traffic, speeding silently towards its destination; quite a divide.

This led to a horseback discussion on the state of the country. Would there be another civil war, my friend pondered, and if so, how would it come about? Through the centrifugal forces unleashed by financial collapse, when the Debt Star decides to collect payment? Through what seems to be increasing, nationwide polarization? One thing's for sure, after 8 years of Gun Control Barack, everyone's armed to the teeth.

Several trot, canter, gallops later we were back at the barn and giving the horses some hay. They attacked it with gusto.

I love riding. Thanks, RP, for the opportunity.

Stay on the horse,

LSP

Ecumenical Dialogue

Several of us were invited on a trail ride by one of the local Baptist churches, and off we went, after Mass.

The cavalry lined up for a photo while I was waiting for a trailer and a horse. Then we said a pre-ride prayer, hats off, and rode out.

A lot of the ride was through woods and the horses kicked up a storm of dust, which I found adventurous, in a Riders of Dune kind of way. But once out of the woods there was plenty of room and I went up and down the line of "follow my leader" riders. Sometimes at a gallop, sometimes not.

Dune

Bad form? I don't think so, but you don't want to get too carried away and run out and start a stampede. Fun for some, not for others.

Then, after a couple of hours, the ecumenical ride was over and we loaded the horses back into the trailers.

Don't be a Pathetic Lib Dupe Stooge of the NWO

I enjoyed everything about this experience, and it'll come in handy when civilization comes crashing down and you can't use your car anymore. Then the horse will rule.

God bless,

LSP

Don't be an Illuminati Stooge, Get Out And Ride

You can sit there reading the pathetically comsymp Guardian or the transsexual New York Times, whining about how gender is a construct, Islam is really peaceful and there aren't enough welcoming bathrooms, for all sexes. 

NWO Stooge Puppet

Sure, you can do that, as you sip your artisanal micro-brew; go right ahead. Or you can saddle up and go for a ride. I chose not to be an Illuminati stooge puppet of the New World Order and went for the latter option.

Typical Texas Street Scene

It was a beautiful evening, made all the better for heavy rain clouds, which appeared miraculously as I drove to my friend's ranch. It even started raining as I tacked up; God was surely smiling on this venture.

Mesquite Work-Out

We moved off briskly into the mesquites and I was curious to see how the horse would perform. Would she be willing and forward, or mutinous and backwards, balking and veering towards the comfort zone of the barn? She was a bit of both last time.

Good Horse

This time was different, she was very willing and a total pleasure to ride. We worked out around mesquites and trails and then moved to a big field and opened up. Walk, trot, canter, gallop, run! Then relax back down to a walk and do it all over again.

Horses Scorn Liberals

I took time to work on posting trot too; good for the horse's back, your stomach... and overall control. I know, posting is "English" but there's more than a few serious Western riders who advocate it. I texted one, a year or so back. Our conversation went like this:

"I'm going for a ride."
"You be careful."
"Don't worry, if it gets all tippy I'll hold on to the strange pommel thing."
"Saddle horn."
"Saddle horn?"
"Yes. Saddle horn. That's what we call it."
"Ah. I see."

Back to the Compound

My correspondent was a world champion bronc rider several years running and has forgotten more about riding than I will ever know. I respect that. A lot.

Ride on,

LSP