Happy Juneteenth, punters. How are you celebrating this great feast of freedom, a holiday second perhaps to Kwanza itself. With fried chicken, yum, fall-off-the-bone tender ribs, spit roast cat and all of that? I hope not, because it's Friday and we don't eat meat on Friday, being Christians.
Weird, isn't it, how Protestants mostly look down upon or ignore fasting when it's right there in the Bible, as in Christ Himself does it and commends it. Huh, I guess some parts of Sola Scriptura are more sola than others. Fasting and solas aside, here at the Compound we're enjoying this jolly old Juneteeth by looking out on our Old Adversary the Weather from the safety of the front porch. And what do we see?
Glowering clouds, a chill breeze, rain, and the dull rumble of thunder. Yes, a storm's threatening to blow in from the West, and for a moment it looked like we were in for a tornado, the air was turning green. But the threat has passed, for now.
Time, then, to break out champagne and smoked salmon (does this somehow count as fasting? Ed.) as we dare our Ancient Enemy, the Weather, to do its worst on this joyous day of liberation. Speaking of which, d'ye not think it about time for the US to reposition a Carrier Group into the English Channel and liberate the UK?
C'mon, it wouldn't be hard, it's not as though the Sceptered Isle has a Navy, Army or Air Force. Way easier than, say, the Straits of Hormuz, and we'd be welcomed as liberators. Maybe next year, on this sacrosanct day, Juneteenth.
Cheers,
LSP
