Thunderstruck

 

The thunder of guns, "tore me apart." Quite.

Your Very Best Pal,

LSP

Time For Bluegrass

 

It's Friday, so it's time for bluegrass. I like these Appalachian Finns:

And homegrown Iron Horse:

Rock on,

LSP

Juke Box Monday

 

Shoot some pool, fire off a few darts, have a pint or several and spin some tunes on the juke. Yes, it's Jukebox Monday and here's Juliette's choice, Copperhead Road. Great choice.

Infidel takes us to a contemplative space, with Stella Blue. Let's hear it for the Dead:

RHT recommends Stevie boy.

And here's some country from Jim.

Me? I just like Thunderstruck, because it's awesome. Check it out:

Rock on,

LSP

A Short Palm Sunday Sermon

 

Here we are on Palm Sunday, the "gateway to Holy Week," and the liturgy of the Mass seems strange or jarring. One minute we're hailing Jesus as the Messiah while singing All Glory Laud and Honour and the next shouting out Crucify Him!, as we hear the Passion. It's as though we've been catapulted, in mood, from Easter to Good Friday. But of course we understand the connection.

Christ's kingship as the anointed holy one of God rests upon the Cross, his throne from which he establishes sovereignty over sin and death. He could, in that week leading up to his death, have chosen worldly power; the temptations in the wilderness surely returned with demonic intensity.

Stones to bread? Yes indeed, literal bread for himself and the world, to say nothing of spiritual bread in the form of the righteous wisdom he could have given from the gleaming, thunderstruck fastness  of Mount Zion. 

Instead of being scourged and nailed to a cross by Roman soldiers he could have ordered the angelic host to his defense, lest he dash his foot against a stone. And the kingdoms of the world? His for the asking, with all the glories therein.

Christ says no to this and by extension to the Devil himself. He follows a different path, the way of the Cross. What qualities took him there? Humility, for sure. He emptied himself, taking the form of a servant or slave, even to an agonizing, shameful death. Likewise obedience. 

Recall the Garden of Gethsemane, where Jesus prays that the chalice of suffering and death would be taken from him, but he continues, "My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass away from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as Thou willest." (Matt. 26:39) This utterly faithful submission to the Father's will takes him to Golgotha, where he lays down his life in a perfect act of love for the forgiveness of our sin.

Humble, obedient, loving faith. The way of the Cross and the way to the empty tomb and everlasting life. It comes at a cost, obviously, but consider the reward, the green pastures of paradise.

I pray we're given the courage, by the grace of God, to acknowledge Christ as our King and follow him through the "grave and gate of death" to eternal life.

God Bless,

LSP

Thunderstruck Yet Again - Not Tired Of Winning

The Iron Duke, Wellington, said of the Battle of Waterloo that the Frenchmen "came on in the same old way and we beat them back,  in the same old way." Looks like that applies to 45 in the latest coup attempt by the impeachmenteers. I'd say this infovideo's on point.

This too.

MAGA 2020.

Your Pal,

LSP

Thunderstruck Again

Blogger won't carry this, watch it here.

Carry on,

LSP

Storm Grill Army

Keen-eyed readers of this deep thinking mind blog will know that my eldest son, popularly known as "the Cadet", made the smart decision to join the US Army instead of a Scandinavian death metal band, in Canada. 

Don't get me wrong, both are good, but the Army probably makes more sense. So what's the score?

Typical Climate Change

Longish story short. The Cadet bravely ventured forth to a Dallas recruiter, got his packet made up, took a language aptitude test (D-Lab) at the Military Entrance Processing Station (MEPS) downtown and... the Army discovered he had to complete some extra paperwork before he could do his physical. 

Annoying but not a huge deal, so we fell back to the Compound and enjoyed the countryside and its storms. Yes, hail storms and the kind of climate change that says tornado, take cover. We took the opportunity to stand on the porch and watch it come down. Exciting, in an Ahab brave the elements kind of way.

Metrosprawl Compound Grill Scene. Note Mary Shrine

Then, papers complete, headed to the Metrosprawl to grill, celebrate a nineteenth birthday, and launch the kid at MEPS again. I dropped him off at the recruiters' this afternoon and they drove him to his date with destiny, but not before we spent all of yesterday getting his ears cleaned. 

What?!? You say in that shocked tone of voice. Yes, ears cleaned, that's because the quacks at MEPS turn people away if they have too much wax in their ears. 

Have to see all of the ear drum, you see, and if they don't the unfortunately waxy child has to leave MEPS, see an an Army sanctioned ear shaman for a 5 minute ear scrape that could've been done at MEPS, and then return to MEPS, mission complete.

Does that reek to you of low-level, bit part skulduggery? It does to me, and imagine how much money someone's raking in from all those ear wax referrals. It'd soon mount up to a nifty shamanic faux mansion somewhere in Plano.

Regardless, the boy's now in the caring hands of Uncle Sam and, all things equal, should pass his physical tomorrow. If so, in a couple of weeks off to Basic, and I respect that. 

Good call, kid, and his plan's simple if not easy. Go Signals, get a degree, get a commission, get a sword, and then set up on some compound, grill, and play Scandinavian death metal.

Good luck with all of that, Cadet, and with MEPS tomorrow. Stay tuned. 

Oh what a carry on!

LSP

Thunderstruck Yet Again

It's been a big day, what with the sacred mysteries, the people of the missions and yesterday's demented libs pounding, clawing, deranged, at the brazen doors of the Supreme Court.

So I'll just leave you with this Scandanavian Death Metal.

Cheers,

LSP