This is Salzburg, at a festival of culture, and what a culture it is, a demonic culture characterized by a hatred of truth, love, mercy and life which is focused on its cannibalistic hatred of children.
Perhaps you recall this verse from the Bible, "It were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and he cast into the sea, than that he should offend one of these little ones." Woe unto you by which this offence cometh.
Woe unto you. I won't go on, you call the shot as you see it. In the meanwhile, these satans aren't even bothering to hide.
Already, says John the Baptist, the axe is laid to the root of the trees. What a terrifying warning and it applies as much to us as it did in the days of the Baptizer.
Do you think people and nations which sacrifice children in the womb to Pink Moloch, who celebrate blasphemous parodies of men and women and surgically mutilate children in the name of big trans money tolerance will somehow be allowed to stand?
Of course not, go against Truth, that which is, against God himself, and see how far it gets you, "And whosoever shall fall on this stone shall be broken: but on whomsoever it shall fall, it will grind him to powder." (Matt. 21:44)
Terrifying, and as the stone drops and the axe lifts into its swing, the enemies of God and Man are being driven insane to the point at which they're not even able to define sex and gender. Male and female, our fundamental God-given identity, is beyond them. Lo and behold, they've erased their identity as humans in the name of identity politics. Welcome to the satanic hive mind and the abolition of man.
But enough of this cheery line of reasoning, let's cut to the chase. Here's Mr. Cash:
Tomorrow's the Feast of the Nativity of John The Baptist.
Why are wymxn priests so very, very awesome? you ask with bated breath. Good question.
some kind of risible joke?
Is it their winsome hands-in-the air jollity?
cross dresser?
Boyish good looks?
you apostate dykes
And obvious reverence for the sacrament they blasphemously pretend to confect.
+++
We were told, you may recall, that if we didn't ordain wimmin to the priesthood no one would take us seriously and everyone would stop going to church. A powerful argument made all the more compelling by the ethical force behind it. Viz. Not having wymxn priests is unjust, bigoted and evil, so we must have they/them.
Leaving aside the hard-edged rigor of late 20th and early 21st century theology, we have to ask: Now that we've ordained wymmin for several decades is everyone taking us seriously and going to church? No, they are not.
Oh dear, we obviously haven't worked the equation hard enough, so maybe trans vicars and rainbow marriage rituals will finally persuade everyone to go to church because we're at last serious about social equity. First phase of the revolution failed? Double down.
But this is a smokescreen. Their intention isn't to build a Church they don't believe in, which they think has been unjust and effectively evil since the days of the Apostles. No, it's to tear it down. No matter, then, if congregations dwindle and die, the wrecking unicorn will have done its rainbow work.
Here we are, running out our few score years until eternity and judgement. How will that fall? Are you good, bad or somewhere in between? Somewhere in between, probably, and that middle ground, neither hot nor cold, equates to being spat out because heaven doesn't admit imperfection.
What can we do, then, but fall down and beg for mercy like the tax collector. God hears this prayer, from a humble and contrite heart, and lifts us up, exalts us to union with Himself. And herein lies divine judgement.
You're either for God or against Him, for life, beauty, truth and all that's good taken to absolute perfection, or you're not. To put it another way, you're either for that which is or that which isn't. Your call, and lest there be confusion, if you go against reality itself, God, it won't go well for you. Judgement. So, on which side of the baseball bat of reality do we fall?
There's only one answer, cry out for mercy, and here we find great hope. The Prodigal is embraced by the Father, the tax collector justified, the thief on the cross lifted to heaven, the sinner redeemed. Reality itself, God, is yes, implacable but Reality reveals himself to be personal, loving and merciful. Judgement, reminds Farrer, runs out into mercy.
Thanks to a ferocious backlash against Tom Petty's amazing smash hit, awesome single Won't Back Down, the Compound's offering a different set of tunes to back the world's epicenter freedom protest. Here they are.
RHT's choice. Good call, my friend.
Wild, now you're talking. And what's this?
Then there's CONVOY, our favorite.
Songs aside, expect the full weight of the Rainbow Stasi to fall on its opponents anytime soon. Imagine the scene, tolerance officers dragging vets out of their trucks in front of their children, all in the name of tolerance. Beyond disgusted.
Stand steady, gentlemen and women, against rapacious NWO tyranny.
Whoever said life'd be easy? Do you remember anyone telling you this? If so, they lied. That in mind, the last few months have been all about putting VCC's (Veteran Crew Chief) estate in order. No small thing, and part of the process is getting the big metal barn ready for a country sale.
No. Easy. Task. Why? Because of the sheer magnitude of it all, so much stuff, and that's with the vehicles gone. I know, there's a moral here but I'll leave you to draw it. In the meanwhile, we pulled everything and laid it all out. Now it's ready to go.
As is the trash, and there's a lot, no kidding. To help with that I ordered a 20 yard dumpster only to find out today that the falsely named "Republic" wanted a $1000 for the privilege. What utter thieves. A morning of phoning around later and the same thing was secured for a third of the price.
Yet another moral. Do not submit to monopoly/cartel, asset-stripping price gouging, go local instead. Remember the slogan, solidarity and subsidiarity? That in mind, let's see how Farmers' Local #100 snaps up these deals, cash is king, obviously.
We live in a barrage of lies, perhaps as never before. All the more reason to attend to the truth. Here it is, St. John's Prologue, which is said correctly at the end of Mass. Don't forget the genuflexion at the Incarnatus:
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.
The same was in the beginning with God.
All things were made by Him, and without Him was made nothing that was made:
in Him was life, and the life was the Light of men;
and the Light shineth in darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it.
There was a man sent from God, whose name was John.
This man came for a witness, to give testimony of the Light,
that all men might believe through him.
He was not the Light, but was to give testimony of the Light.
That was the true Light, which enlighteneth every man that cometh into this world.
He was in the world, and the world was made by Him,
and the world knew Him not.
He came unto His own, and His own received Him not.
But as many as received Him, He gave them power to be made the sons of God,
to them that believe in His Name,
who are born not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man,
but of God.
AND THE WORD WAS MADE FLESH,
and dwelt among us:
and we saw His glory, the glory as it were of the Only begotten of the Father,
full of grace and truth.
The Light shineth in darkness. And there it is. Go against this at the peril of your immortal soul. And the reverse, of course, is true.
It's all very well to argue about which is better, Pen or Glock, when you're not not up to the extreme kind of violence needed to use either in self-defense. That said:
LL, who's a solutions provider, recommends a pen that's also a pistol. Good call! Very DLC. Anon, who knows a thing or two, says you need to train, train, train. Listen up:
The mob is acting in the confident knowledge that ‘the law’ (establishment, media, etc.) will allow them free reign. The diners are reluctant (even those too few who are capable) to react offensively in the sure knowledge that ‘they’ will be arrested.
The predictable outcome is that: 1) the mob ‘will’ escalate (as the Stanford experiments demonstrated) until someone is seriously injured or killed ; and/or 2) the victims will contain somebody, or more likely a group, who are both physically and (more importantly) mentally capable and who feel their life (or those of loved ones) are at risk, they have no options left, and who then react.
People, thankfully, are not generally capable of deliberately severely harming others. You need to either be ‘an exception’ (ie. mentally ill) or be ‘conditioned’ to do so (not surprisingly the ‘scrappers’ and ‘brawlers’ of adolescence, “guilty M’Lord”, already partially conditioned are much more easily trained). The mobs are not just working through that conditioning process, but are being allowed, even encouraged, to do so consequence free.
Are you, and all the rest of the ‘normals’ out there, ready and willing to face that demon? Ask any military vet, whose been ‘up close and personal’, and they’ll tell you, you really, really aren’t (yet). (Are you, not just willing, but capable of emulating a particular favourite [and toasted in the mess on more than one occasion] of that Ranger who, in an ultimate life/death struggle, stabbed the insurgent to death with ‘his MRE spoon’? It's not the weapon, it's the man wielding it.).
It’s why young Mr. Rittenhouse impressed me so much. The aplomb, the deliberate assurance of a much more experienced man in a definitive ‘it’s raining a$$holes’ situation, indicates to me he’s one of Heredotus’ 1%. Most will not react even close to so well … without a lot more training.
The aplomb, the deliberate assurance of a much more experienced man in a definitive ‘it’s raining a$$holes’ situation, indicates to me he’s one of Heredotus’ 1%. Yes.
And right on, Anon. (Less brackets, please. Thx. Ed.) Point being, it's very easy to posture and grand stand against iniquity of any sort, but unless you're prepared to work that out at a personal level, and make the protest real, it's worthless, fake.
One of our churchmen died early today of a heart attack. It was sudden and a shock; we'd been talking only yesterday and he seemed in excellent health, promising to bring some quail to Mass this evening. "You might want to bring a small cooler!" he said, and that's what I was getting ready to do when I received the news.
I got on the 'phone and one man, who I respect very much, said, "When the Man calls, you gotta go." There's no arguing with that.
My friend had been an explosives person in SE Asia and carried on the lifestyle into the '80s, finishing up in Uzbekistan before becoming a civilian contractor, most recently in Afghanistan. He'd retired here to raise quail, grow herbs and be midway between his children and grandchildren.
He was a good man and a committed Christian.
LJ, rest in peace and rise in glory. You will be badly missed.
It's Wednesday night and I'm cleaning a pistol, listening to Mr. Cash, and wondering where the Anglican Communion has got to.
Maybe it's in high orbit somewhere, maybe it's on Mars, or deep beneath the icy waters of Enceladus. Perhaps the Large Hadron Collider will discover it when they break into a new dimension. I don't know, maybe that's what will happen.
In the meanwhile, I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts.
People say that Texas has a big sky. I won't disagree, it does. Maybe soon it'll be a Big Sky Open Carry (BSOC) state too, as the Mississippi Rebel reports.
But after looking at the enormous sky, I went for a quick spin around Malone. It doesn't have paved streets, but it does have a smoker in the form of a pistol.
I like that.
Malone was prosperous, once, but not anymore, even though it has has several saloons.
I know. They're still at large in Washington DC, along with all the other clowns and crooks. But maybe the impossible will happen and one day that will end, just like Lois Lerner's missing 30,000 emails were miraculously found.
If anyone had suggested that a couple of years ago I would've laughed. "Don't be ridiculous," I would've said. But you know, God can build up as well as cut you down.
