Just Throwin' it Out There

 

Rock on

Merry Christmas,

LSP

Operation Tree

 

The drive to Dallas was easy. Roadworks, three lane to one lane traffic jams, and being stuck behind a Commie Jeep with COEXIST on its bumper. COEXIST? Idea being that all people of all religions can just agree to get along. Good call, sounds so reasonable.

But what if you worship the Owl God, Mictlāntēcutli, what then? Or Kali? What about that? Of course they never stop to ask the question, and so we drove on to Dallas.

Its towers were shrouded in mist, like the Andes, and so was the 'sprawl itself. I made it to Ma LSP's place by instinct. Right, left, forward, get to the objective. Which we did, and  the mission? Get a tree. Easier said than done. Hardly a fir to be found.

Still, we found one and set it up. It's gleaming now, like a colonizer. 

Friendsgiving Forever,

LSP

Merry Christmas! And guess what, tomorrow's Melania Mondays! It just keeps on getting better and better.

Wishing you all a joyous Christmas,

LSP

Merry Christmas Snowflakes

From a well known member of the intelligence community, we bring you this. Straight off the Compound and onto the streets.

Cheers,

LSP

Trump Brings Back Christmas

President Trump's made good on one of his campaign promises, ending White House sponsorship of the war on Christmas.

For the last 8 years, the Obamas avoided mentioning Christmas on their Christmas cards, replacing the dreaded C word with a euphemistic "Happy Holidays" or "season." Euphemism for what? For the left's attempt to drive Christ out of Christmas and faith, especially Christianity, out of the public square altogether. 

Trump campaigned against this politically correct puritanism, promising to bring back Christmas and he reiterated the promise in October to the Values Voters summit.

“Something I said so much during the last two years, but I’ll say it again, as we approach the end of the year, you know we’re getting near that beautiful Christmas season that people don’t talk about anymore. They don’t use the word Christmas because it’s not politically correct. You go to department stores, and they’ll say, ‘Happy New Year,’ and they’ll say other things. It’ll be red. They’ll have it painted. Well, guess what? We’re saying Merry Christmas again.”

So we are. This year's card from the President and his family reads loud and clear, Merry Christmas And Happy New Year.

Thank you, Mr. President.

MAGA,

LSP

Merry Christmas!

Eternal God,

who made this most holy night

to shine with the brightness of your one true light:

bring us, who have known the revelation

of that light on earth,

to see the radiance of your heavenly glory;

through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Merry Christmas and God bless,

LSP

Christmas, The Aftermath

Turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, some other vegetables, I'm not sure what they were, gravy and fun company. Presents, too and a good day was had by all.

I hope you've had a blessed and merry Christmas.

Be good,

LSP

Blue Christmas

Here at the Compound things are pretty rough and ready, as you'd expect, but back at HQ? Different story, only the very finest wines and food will do. 

That's why Blue Navidad got lobster for Christmas. He tore right into that tasty snack! Delicious lobster.

Lucky dog, to be so privileged, unlike the lobster, which lost out in the greater scheme of things. Sorry, crustacean, they can't all be winners. But what can we say, let's hear it for seafood.

As I write this piece of nuanced, three-dimensional prose, safely back at the Compound, the happy sound of Navidad fills the air. Those of you who equate angelic choirs with pulsing Latino bass will know what I mean.

And I'm not complaining.

Merry Christmas,

LSP

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas, everyone. And for all you followers of hermetic esoterica, Aleister Crowley's old mansion's burned down the other day.

See? There is a God.

Cheers,

LSP 

Felix Navidad!

Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas! Navidad music fills the air, which is crisp and the stars are bright, and that's what it's like, here in Texas.

God bless you all,

LSP

Atheist Santa

"Dear Santa," writes the smirking atheist girl to her imaginary friend, "All I want for Christmas is to skip church." The substantial little disbeliever then goes on to explain herself. She's too old, apparently, "to believe in fairy tales."

Why does she believe in Santa, then? 

Maybe she wants to have her cake and eat it too, but speaking of fairy tales,

Happy Kwanzaa,

LSP

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas!

 I hope you all had a merry Christmas, despite atheistical attempts to drive God out of business through billboarding. "This Season," runs one snappy slogan, "Celebrate Reason!" which is part of a broader ad campaign called, curiously enough, "Out of the Closet." This hopes to make isolated, lonely, atheists feel that they've got company. 

HO HO HO!

It's news to me that they haven't but that aside, imagine, with "This Season, Celebrate Reason!" ringing in our minds, we could cozily warm our secularist toes by the fire, all the while merrily unwrapping treatises on number theory by Bertrand Russell, and that's before the jolly feast of roast tofu that's basting away in the oven. So much more reasonable than patriarchal superstition about Virgin births, miraculous stars and wandering astrologers; to say nothing of what Marx called the "bourgeois claptrap" of a traditional family—a husband, wife and children gathered around a decorated tree to celebrate God becoming Man. Get rid of this primitive nonsense, say the authors of the oddly named ad campaign and replace it with something sensible, like reason. 

Adoration of the Child, Correggio

You may or may not be pleased to know that Team LSP managed to avoid the heady lure of our godless marketeers and stuck with celebrating the birth of Christ.

Gloria in excelsis Deo!

God bless,

LSP

Christmas Day

But what's this? Rain!

Woke up to the sound of roosters crowing but only just because they were nearly drowned out by the noise of thunder, lightning and torrential rain. Those of you who are familiar with Texas will know how exciting that last part is. We don't get "sky water" very often, altogether different from, say, Wales, or Oxford. 

Just some guns and a cloak of invisibility

Off to the Dallas compound now. Have a blessed Christmas and hope like fury that Santa gives you an "assault rifle" and a "deadly" handgun before our caring friend, the State, bans them.

Extradite Piers Morgan,

LSP

Merry Christmas!

A strange thing happened after saying the first Mass of the evening. I went to visit a parishioner's friend, just to say a cheery Merry Christmas and she asked: 

"Where are you from?"

"England," I replied.

"Yes, I can see that. But where from?"

"London."

"I love London. My friends say 'where do you stay when you go to Europe?' I tell them 'London, of course, it is the best of those cities.'"

I agreed because I was being polite and thought she was right. But where did she stay when she went to "Town"? She liked the Dorchester, understandably, and I told her that I saw Mr. Cash there once, in the restaurant. He was wearing black, predictably. She liked that and told me a story about a Roman Catholic priest who took his dogs to Mass.

Nothing too weird abut that, you think. Just another snobby LSP conversation. But not so fast. As I was leaving, my friend showed me the garage, which was large. And just as well, because it held about as many vintage Rolls Royce motor cars as I've ever seen. A lot, and all of them immaculate.

This happened in Slap-Out Texas, aka Hubbard. 

Who knew?

Merry Christmas,

LSP

Merry Christmas!

I only heard the despicable "happy holidays" once this year. Result, as was the stunningly powerful gift of a Spyderco folder from my philosophic friend, GWB.

Shoot straight, stay on the horse and may God bless you all,

LSP

Merry Christmas!

Beautiful Vigil Masses at the Missions then a scarifyin' drive to Dallas, where had turned in for the night. So I took advantage of the lull to watch a program about an alien base at Dulce; curious.

Regardless of the impending "disclosure event", here's an interesting, if slightly somber thought:

"When the unstoppable bullet hits the impenetrable wall, we find the religious experience. It is precisely here that one will grow... Heroism could be redefined for our time as the ability to stand paradox."

Robert Johnson wrote that, I found it on the Shirt of Flame blog.

Mind those bullets!

Merry Christmas!

LSP