Golden Void

 

Ignore and scorn Crowley, just chillax, consult your tailor and listen to the tune. See you on the Terrace.

Cheers,

LSP

You're Living In A Vacuum

We're living in a void. So says Paul Kingsworth, and he has a point. Is the dominant culture pagan, secular or even atheist? Hardly, it's nothing at all, a void or vacuum in which Christianity is taken-for-granted-rejected and thus the West itself. Call it intellectual and cultural suicide if you like, call it nihilism, call it blasphemy LARPING as lib project freedom. Anyway, here's a snapshot:

In the West today, that means that we have to live in a culture without faith. Without faith in the Christian God, obviously, but without faith in anything else either. We are not pagans because pagans, like Christians, believe in something. We believe in nothing. Most significantly, we are now even ceasing to believe in the ideas which arose to replace all religions in the age of ‘Enlightenment.’ Reason, progress, liberalism, freedom of speech, democracy, the enlightened rational individual, the scientific process as a means of determining truth: everywhere, these ‘secular’ beliefs, which were supposed to replace religion worldwide, are either under fire or have already fallen too.

Is this an atheist age, then? In one obvious sense, yes. We are perhaps the first godless culture in human history. Religious cosmologies have differed vastly across time and space, but no society has ever existed without one. Ours has tried to, for a brief, violent and explosive time. I don’t think that time has long to run. So yes, we are living in an atheist age - and yet, at the same time, that’s not quite the full picture either.

Atheism, like religion, implies some sort of confidence; some sort of actual stance. A-theism is a position. It states: there is no God, and it can state that because it has a set of alternative beliefs, usually those which emerged from the European ‘age of reason’: the ability of science to demonstrate universal truth; the objectivity of rational thought; the knowability of reality. Atheism often also refuses religion on moral grounds: religions, it is said, are archaic, irrational, unjust and oppressive. Some version of ‘humanism’ is a better and fairer fit for the modern world.

All of these are positions. They are statements of faith in the world working in a certain way, and in the way that it should work, and should be arranged. Atheism can even amount to a quasi-religious system itself. Orthodox convert Seraphim Rose, formerly a committed atheist himself, once wrote that ‘atheism, true “existential” atheism burning with hatred of a seemingly unjust or unmerciful God, is a spiritual state; it is a real attempt to grapple with the true God.’

 Does our age believe this? Hardly. These days even Richard Dawkins publicly regrets the results of the ignorant anti-Christian fatwa he helped to lead. They say they are no atheists in foxholes; I wonder how many of them there are in post-religious societies. What happens when the dedicated rationalist realises that his destruction of religious faith has not led to the triumph of reason but to its long sleep, which is producing, now, increasingly terrible monsters? So no, this is not an atheist age either. It is not, I would say, any kind of ‘age’ at all. It has no shape. It has no centre. Nobody sits on its throne. It is, taken in the round, simply a vacuum. There is nothing here at all.

 

You can read the whole thing here, and you should. In the meanwhile, we have to ask, what will fill the vacuum nature abhors? A renewed Faith and/or Satan? At the moment it's most definitely the latter, but we know how this clash ends. Curiously enough, at the Colosseum.

God Bless,

LSP

Wisdom

 

Wonder at the Offertory, here's Farrer:

THE alms for which your generosity is asked are nothing exterior to the sacrament, but a part of it.  If you were living in the days of the ancient church, you would be bringing not money, but cakes of bread and flasks of wine.  All would be placed upon the altar; part would be consecrated for the eucharist, the remainder would be given to the sick and poor.  Now you bring money.  But your money is still presented along with the bread and wine, and it still means the same thing.  The offering is your offering; it is you yourselves who are laid on the altar to be consecrated, and to be made the body of Christ.  Your gift is a token of yourself.  I break the bread for the death of Christ, and we are all sacrificed to God in Christ's death, dying in him to our own will, and receiving Christ our true life in communion.

 

...it is you yourselves who are laid on the altar to be consecrated, and to be made the body of Christ. Reflect on that, dear readers, all three of you, as you approach the altar with altar with joy and gladness, to say nothing of fear and trembling before the living presence of God.

If you think, in your vain, worldly conceit that you can somehow ignore this and come out smiling like a gilded loon at the other end you are sadly mistaken. I'll put it another way. God will not be mocked, not least by the risible Rainbow Cult which is a mockery in itself. Homily over and mind how you go.

Salve,

LSP

Driving Into The Sun

 

It was like some kind of Golden Void on the way down 22 to Mass this evening and no complaints from me on that score, all hail the countryside. Then, ite missa est, it was time to head back to the Compound, except it wasn't.

No, a young couple asked me to bless their marriage. It was an heterosexual marriage, so I did. Well done kids, long may you reign in this dark and barbarous age. Then, no sooner Texas said than done, the Compound opened its storied doors and there it was, home.

Result, but immediately a call, "What's up, son?" a pause, "Hey dad, I'm in town." Well done you, and a few minutes later in came a soldier storming through with a Whataburger and a Green to Gold packet. Good work, kid.

Seriously, it'd be a grand thing if the erstwhile Cadet became an actual Cadet. Let's see how this goes.

Salve,

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

Boys In The Hood

 

Well, not so much Hood as Cavasos because changing names and removing statues will do so much to raise the fortunes of virtue signalling hypocrite Democrats poverty stricken POCs everywhere. Except that it won't. Regardless, General Cavasos seems to have been the real deal and I enjoyed a brief tour of the post this afternoon.

The place always strikes me as well put together, unlike Killeen, and it was fun to drive around 1 Cav's enormous motor pools. Look at that, tanks! And the new JLTV (Joint Light Tactical Vehicle) which is replacing ancient HMMVs. 

It comes in 2 and 4 seat variants and features a V8 power plant, advanced networking capability, scalable armor and can be fitted with an array of weaponry: light and heavy machine guns, grenade launchers, anti-tank missiles and more. You can read about this demonstrably badass vehicle here.

Tour over, we stopped at the PX for food, which meant something called a "Philly Cheesesteak," which is a kind of sandwich thing, for the boy and a small order of fries for me. Was it cheap? No, it was not cheap. It was expensive. Very expensive. Maybe I will apply for bankruptcy.

That's as maybe. Perhaps you remember when fast food was a quick, inexpensive variant to real food? Those days are well gone, my friends. But the kid liked it, so. And you know what? He's proud of the US Army and his post. I like that a lot.

Then it was back to 57 Signal, a fond farewell, and a drive back to the bucolic farming community that is LSPland. And all was good, with I35 strangely easy and to the West a massive Texan sun sank to the horizon, filling the air with golden light.

God Bless,

LSP

Monday Madness

 

I've heard Albertans are fleeing the Province.

Why would that be?

And they're moving to Texas. Yes, the FREE STATE.

Your Pal,

LSP

Golden Void

 

I tell you, it's hot enough to melt porch furniture and cast it into bullets (what? Ed.), but whoever said life'd be easy? No one, but the band plays on and this mind blog's mission to document the Apocalypse continues. Steadfast.

 #artphilosophy

Golden Void,

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

So Who Is Dave Brock?

Here at the Compound we're often asked, just who is Dave Brock? A second hand car salesman out of Monmouth, UK, or the weirdly bouffant head of Media Matters.

One performed Sonic Attack, Golden Void, Seven By Seven, Upside Down, Brainstorm and Motorhead.

The other performed fraudulent charitable status and shills for the globalist, Illuminati, NWO elite as the head of a fake news organisation.

The one has long, greasy lanks and stripey flares and he's still alive, by some miracle beyond human understanding.

The other has a remarkable silver bouffe and a rainbow lover who tried to blackmail him. He's alive too, strangely.

And one had Lemmy, who isn't alive anymore but was awesome. RIP, Lemmy, you were great.

So who is Dave Brock?  Which Brock is the Psychedelic Warlord? You, the reader, be the judge.

Dik Mik forever,

LSP

We Are Standing On The Edge

What, the edge of time? Of civil war and the Eschaton itself? No, just the edge of Walmart and the fields in this small slice of rural Texan paradise. But does the Golden Void speak to me? Not really but I won't deny it's not a bad place to be.

The rig's oil is refreshed, its engine will live again to fight another day, and all's well with the world as the sun sets over the fields on the outskirts of town.

Saying that, our lying, corrupt, pernicious, venal, smug, self-serving, mendacious, aggressive mainstream media have been busy accusing President Trump of being a Russian spy. Here's Alex Jones.

Make of it what you will but word to the wise, don't put up with being a serf dupe of the globalist New World Order and its Illuminati overlords. And remember, it's all a conspiracy until it isn't.

All best for Advent,

LSP

Cooking With LSP, Fish

I know, I know, it's Bushcraft Wednesday but plans have to evolve to meet a fluid tactical environment. Such as the opportunity to catch fish. We took that opportunity and went down to the lake.

Before too long there was a cooler full of Bluegill; take those fish home and fry 'em up! went the war cry, and that's exactly what happened.

Work Harder!

First things first, descale the fish. Use a regular stainless steel - no need to be fancy - kitchen knife with a serrated edge. Then fillet the fish, leaving the skin on. There's a helpful infovideo here, if you don't know how.

Then make some beer batter. It's not hard. 2/3rds cup of flour, 1 tablespoon of olive oil, 1 teaspoon of garlic powder and the same again of onion powder.Whisk it up, add around a bottle of beer and fold in a beaten egg white right before you're ready to fry. And maybe you do that with a loaded .45 close to hand. Or maybe you don't, there's no rule. 

Random Fish Photo

Sure, go right ahead and fry up some fish defenseless. That's your call; who knows, maybe your pal, Nanny State, will protect you, and you'll be safer because you're not armed. Your choice. I chose a Beretta PX4 Storm, you might opt for something different. It's up to you. Choose wisely.

Batter mixed, dredge the fillets in flour, put them in the batter and drop the beasts in a cast iron pot with 3/4" of hot vegetable oil. Fry for about 2 minutes a side, then drain on paper towels.

Frying over, admire your handywork, pound the mahogany and grin like a warrior. Fish on. And here's the thing, eating fresh-as-you-like fish gives you energy, health and the satisfaction of Lake to Table and thank you very much.

It's tasty, too. And that's cooking, with,

LSP