Showing posts with label Texas flag. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Texas flag. Show all posts

Sunday, July 14, 2024

All In A Day

 



First up, brew strong covfeve on the Compound's annoyingly electric stovetop, must get a gas variant, so much better. Regardless, I use one of those Pedrini espresso contraptions, which offers up the right stuff, at least for me. Perhaps you have a different method and that's fine, no rule. Coffee on the go, feed the dog on the back porch, scan Telegram channels for Ost Front news, and go back in the house, your coffee's ready.

Drink that, take a morning constitutional to the Pick 'n Steal, run through your homily on the Front Porch, it should be memorized, then launch into Mass #1. This is said, oriented, Rite I 1979 BCP, Which means, all you liturgical trads, that it's seemly and in order, if not in Latin. OK, maybe that's a defect, but liturgical Tudor ain't bad either.

The sacrifice ascended, get in the rig and drive to the lake for Mass #2. This too is oriented, face the East and rising sun all you priests, who are supposed to lead the people towards the risen Christ as opposed to chairing some kind of circular Punch 'n Judy show. Well, there's room for that too, perhaps, but this Mass is sung and again, all is seemly, reverent and in order, in a country mission kind of way.

Curiously, the people won't leave their seats until all the candles have been put out on the Altar after Mass. "I say," I asked a former Provost of Baylor who attends faithfully, "Are we all Zeroastrians now?" He chuckled in a provostian kind of way, but surely it's a good thing for the congregation to sit in silent prayer for a few minutes after Mass. In fact, we're supposed to give thanks for inestimable benefit of the sacrament we've received and so reverent silence is by no means out of place. And then?

After a few sunny hellos, climb back in the rig to give Last Rites or Extreme Unction to man in ICU in Cleburne. He's a good man and a faithful, devout, catholic Christian who ran into a cactus and got spiked by a needle. The wound became infected and he, in his '80s, fell into grievous condition. You might pray for him, his name is Jack.

Sickbed seen to, head for home and, if you're me, try to take a short nap. But how can you when the times we live in are so interesting, if appalling. Question: How did Trump's security team fail to surveil the shooter's position and, if they'd done so, why did they allow the boy to loose off a few rounds? Rumors of malfeasance abound.

Your Old Buddy,

LSP


Sunday, March 5, 2023

What A Beautiful Day

 



What a beautiful day, birds sing, dogs sleep, flags wave and the sun shines down from a clear blue sky as a drug dealing ice cream van rounds the corner. It's like Spring, and I've got the front door open to air out the Manse.




Blow out those cobwebs, LSP, and take full advantage of our ancient enemy, the Weather, being in some kind of armistice mode. Enjoy every second of this fresh, clean, country day before our old adversary the Climate decides to Change and go full superheated blast furnace eschaton on the tenacious citizens of North Central Texas.




You know what it's like, it gets so hot you think the air itself is going to ignite, one careless spark and all that dust goes thermobaric. Terrifying, but for now all is good, the sacrifice of the Mass was offered at the Missions, a pot of improv Thai curry's on the stove and all is well with this part of the world.

Who knows, maybe a shoot's in order for Monday, but let's see what tomorrow brings.

Your Old Pal,

LSP

Saturday, July 1, 2017

These Colors Don't Run



Which is a very good thing because it's raining furiously, in yet another chapter in the no holds barred War on Weather. Too bad, because the team was planning to go fishing but that's off the cards, who wants to get struck by lightning on Lake Whitney?




In other exciting news, check out Paul Joseph Watson's video on the hideous, totalitarian, dehumanizing fact of much of modern architecture. Buildings and cityscapes designed to atomize, alienate and destroy individuals  and communities so that all folds ineluctably under the control of the globalist super state. And note this.




The elites who are responsible for this wrecking don't live in the hells they've created for the masses. 

If you're interested in the subject, check out That Hideous Strength and the Abolition of Man by CS Lewis and Tom Wolfe's excellent From Bauhaus to Our House.

In the wake of the flood,

LSP

Thursday, November 26, 2015

Salute The Flag



But which one? I'd have thought that was obvious. Less obvious is the fact that everyone here at HQ is watching a Thanksgiving Day murder mystery, set in Aberystwyth.

A Typical Day in Aberystwyth

Myth has it that the drummer of the world famous pop band, the Scorpions, owned a mansion just outside of Aberystwyth. 

Braggable.

LSP