It's All Going On In The Country I Tell You

 

One of the things that happens here is I let some of the neighbors park their rigs and vehicles in the grassy pasture that is the Compound's parking lot. They mow the grass and all of that in return. But this beneficent arrangement seemed to come to a crashing end today.

There I was on the back deck, scanning Zerohedge, when up come two men in polo shirts with Glocks on their hips, "Sir, can we have a word?" Of course they could and were welcomed into the rural fastness with a sunny hello, "What's up, guys?"

A Typical Kitchen Glock

Turns out they were from Code Enforcement, yes, we have such a thing, and someone had the literal brazen temerity to make a formal complaint about the vehicles parked up on the grass. It broke the code and couldn't be tolerated because, you see, the area's zoned residential and enormous lifted trucks and everything else have to be parked on "improved ground," such as gravel.

Huh. I assured the officer that it'd be sorted out before tickets had to be issued or any other equivalent nonsense. So that was good, but what about guns. "How are you finding that Glock?" I asked, glancing down at the fella's two-tone 9mm variant.

Behold, Legally Parked on Gravel. FFS

"I like it a lot and shoot pretty good with it and you know, it was weird, when I went to the Police Academy, they asked 'how many of you have shot pistols?' and I was the only one in the class who didn't raise his hand because we never had pistols where I was, just shotguns for quail, pheasant and dove. You know what, I ended the course shooting a lot better than some of those country boys because I was taught right, from the start."

Good call. So we talked Glocks and pistols and became friends and off they went into the pastoral hinterland. Flash forward several hours to me getting back from Walmart and there's D, remonstrating in the car park, not a happy man. Code Enforcement had not been kind to him and he was ticked, having put out for local LE & Co a lot over the years. Someone had made a complaint.

Note, why is his finger on the trigger? Maybe because he's an actor

We speculated on the identity of this malefactor and he asked me if it was OK to spread some gravel and "improve" the parking zone. "Remember I asked you if I could black-top and you said 'no, I don't want that (well said, LSP, Ed.), get gravel, but I need to get the church's permission.' Do I still need to get that?"

I looked at D, who wasn't very happy, and he looked at me, "You have the church's permission, knock yourself out on that gravel. I'll help you spread it, even." But that wasn't needed, "I've got a tractor at the shop and I'll bring it in tomorrow morning with the gravel. Thanks, man." Thanks indeed, "'preciate you, brother. Come to church, it's about time." He agreed and off we went, friends.

I call this installation Casa Blanca, keen-eyed readers will understand

So there you have it. Problem, solution, right here in sunny Texas' North Central Exclusion Zone.

Texit,

LSP

Something Good

 

Don't you have anything good to say, so-called LSP? you ask, grimly. Well yes, yes I do. After Mass on Thursdays I stop off at a small country supermarket to pick up provisions, David's in Whitney. What a friendly crowd and after a while you get to know the mostly elderly cashiers.

One of them, a wiry tough old lady, asked me at the checkout, "Feeling alright?" and I replied, "Still standing, by the grace of God." She smiled and said, "So am I! I've just met a man and he has money in his account and I won't have to do this job. My last husband was a demon. He was on nuke subs and we were married thirty years and he was a demon, he'd beat me. Now I've found a man who loves me, praise God."

Praise God, she meant it too, and her eyes sparkled there at that checkout at David's in Whitney. I smiled and praised God with her, what a faithful and good old lady, "Bless you." But would newfound love and recompense stick?

A month later, yesterday, I was at our rural haven's shopping mall, Walmart, and there she was, happy as could be, and she introduced me to the man who wasn't a demon. "This is..." and we shook hands, "You'll excuse me for looking like an unemployed fisherman but I am, in fact, a priest." He grinned in a lined face, brown with the weather and still strong, a countryman, out here in Texas, and off we went. Both of them light with happiness and that light lifted me up too.

Cheers,

LSP

HOT ROD

 

You go to the country store and what do you get? A hot rod.

And then some. Wow. No foolin'.

Most awesome. Serious attention to detail.

I left impressed but perhaps you disagree?

Ride on,

LSP

Brazen Transfer

Do you remember our rulers giving Zelensky's Ukraine >40 BN? Sure you do, bipartisan effort. GWB comments:

Don’t be surprised if that $40 billion we’re sending him ends up in the pockets of his pals."

Not a penny will leave the Beltway. You see, help for Ukraine has to be built first — here.

Ever wondered why there was such bipartisan support for the measure to the tune of appropriating even more than asked for? A brazen wealth transfer. It’s not Zelensky’s pals who are lining their pockets. In the US, interest in the war will start fading. The goods have been delivered. 

It’s monkey pox time!

 

 

Don't forget pride month, GWB!

Realpolitik forever,

LSP 

Taking Care Of Business

 

Ye Olde Meth Shack

Life at the Compound follows a rhythm, a pattern, and it all starts with a measured stroll to the Pick 'n Steal (PNS) via the Meth Shack. The shack's fallen on hard times, sadly, as you can see from the photo. Gone are the halcyon days of shirtless tweakers in filthy pajama bottoms decorating the porch. They're gone, along with much of the porch itself. Who knows, maybe the crew of Mexicans who've been, ahem, fixing the place up will achieve their goal.

We can but hope. In the meanwhile, a lone picker shuffled in the Shack's pecan grove, searching for nature's bounty. Good luck to him, may your harvest be plentiful. Ag exemption in mind I moved on to the Steal where, lo and behold, gas is only 3.59 a gallon. Get it while you can, kids.

Picka

One PNS coffee refill later and a pack of Marlboro Lights I was back at the patrol base and saying Morning Prayer. 1928 BCP version, thank you very much and you can get it online here. Then, no sooner was the Divine Office finished than a barrage of emails from lawyers and realtors came flooding in.

Upshot? Go to a notary, affidavit in hand. But the notary's shut because... who knows, it just is. Drive over to Land & Title, "How you doing!" what a cheery receptionist, "Good! How about you?" "I'm good, what can we do for ya?" Well, they couldn't notarize a document but they sure wanted to and were helpful as they could be. I thanked God for putting me in a Texan country town and headed over to Don Tutor's Bail Bonds.

Good People

"Hi, I recognize you from Bible Study at El Con! (an unreconstructed TexMex restaurant) What can we do for you?" So helpful, just notarize this document, please, and she did, free of charge. "What part of England you from?" I replied "London" and learned she wanted to go to Manchester, where she has an email friend. "Watch out," I admonished, "They call it Gunchester," and then felt bad, "Don't worry, you'll be alright." Good for her, so excited to visit England.

UK readers of this important mind blog, if there are any, take note: Many, many Americans hold the Sceptered Isle in very high regard, they really do. So don't scorn your brothers and sisters across the Atlantic, it's an unpleasant, snobbish and beastly trait. Just saying.

Bonds aside, go back to the Compound to regroup, eat a slice of bread because fasting and get blitzed by lawyers and realtors over the information superhighway. Think Russian Shock Army moving on the Karkov Front. We withstood the offensive, nice work team, and then Canada called, "Can you send some... :("  I resisted the urge to ignore this threat in the hope it'd somehow go away and instead replied, "Hold fire, I'm trying to sell a ranch. Offers coming in, good offers."

Walmart

And so they were, result. Realtor O Group over, head to Walmart and this town's send money to the world desk (please, Canada, work this out online). The young woman who handled the transaction was friendly as you like but aghast at gas prices, "Just seen 4 bucks a gallon, 81 million people voted for that, what's gonna happen when it's $5 a gallon or 8?" I thought about that and looked her in the eye, which was hard because of all the piercings, "Maybe smart people have ammo, right?" She gave a dyed blonde grin and agreed, yet another friendly country person.

Then back to the Compound for Vespers. Question, is it just me or is the tenor of daily life becoming increasingly off-hook?

Stand Steady,

LSP

And So It Begins

 

And so it begins, empty shelves at the local Made-in-China mart. Sorry, serfs, no luncheon meat for you. And anyway, you wouldn't appreciate it if you had it, much less steak, which we've priced far beyond your reach.

Yes, no more meat for you. But don't worry, there will be other food, nutritious food which doesn't destroy fragile planet earth, our island home. Straight from you to table, recycled. Patriotic even, food for the people from the people.

But seriously, why should we expect people who enthusiastically support, who champion killing babies in the womb at the point of birth, to have anything like a moral compass. What would they not do? At this point of Hideous Strength, I'd say all the cards are on the table. The Abolition of Man is well underway. Pro tip, read those books.

In the meanwhile, make sure you've got plenty of food, water, wine and bullets before the Eschaton hits. If it doesn't? Give even more to the poor, bonus.

Your Apocalyptic Friend,

LSP

The West is Best

 

I like the town of West, population 2,860. It's the Czech capital of Texas and justifiably famous for its kolaches. Pull off I35 on the way to or from Waco and get some, worth the stop. But that's not all, there's plenty of bars, see LL's franchise, and restaurants, which gives the place a happy, small town country vibe.

Plenty of Hardware, no Bullets

But I wasn't there for that, I was after ammo at True Value, which is a hardware store that sells guns and ammunition. At least it did, and even in the days of the infamous Obama bullet shortage this store was always stocked with ammo at normal prices. Maybe history would repeat itself, I walked through the door to find out.

Looking West

No. A few rifles, mostly Henry levers, nice, but hardly any bullets and what there was wasn't affordable. A solitary 500 round "value pack" of .22 LR for $80? Sorry, guys, not gonna do it. The pleasant young Czechoslovakian woman behind the counter apologized, "I'm sorry, nothing is normal now." I agreed, and we looked each other in the eye, "Ain't that the truth." A meeting of minds, for sure, but no bullets.

West is Catholic And Has More Fun Than Other Towns

So I headed back down the speedway deathtrap that is I35, and in a few short minutes was back in the rural haven of the County Seat itself. At its Walmart, in fact. Maybe this evil Chinese incursion onto US sovereign land would have bullets.

A Typical West Street Scene

Sure enough, there they were! Boxes of 12 and 20 gauge, .22 LR, .22 Mini Mag, .22 WMR and .17 HMR, and all at normal price. Shocked and astounded, I bought three 50 round boxes of CCI .22 WMR to go through the Marlin I don't have, and looked at a Savage bull barrel .17. Nice looking gun for 212 bucks, then again, so were the levers at True Value. Hmmm.

Look at Those Bad Boys!

And that was that, a short excursion into ammoland in North Central Texas. Now it's time for Hamburgers, to celebrate the victory of it all.

Shoot straight,

LSP

Lube Up

Walmart's lube experts were overwhelmed today, unlike the nation's hospitals. But I persevered, don't give up in the face of adversity, buddy. That meant get outta the rig, "Hey, you guys open or what?" They were, but it'd take awhile to put oil in the engine. "We're swamped, unlike ICU, so go shopping for a bit," said the masked bravado. "You bet, I'll do that."

Which I did. Walmart's got all these stupid arrows everywhere because they think that'll stop the invisible China Virus which doesn't kill anyone. 

You know, if you walk along the path of the arrow you won't get sick. Like inverse Dojo wisdom. Whatev, I ignored this nonsense like everyone else who wasn't getting sick, and headed for the computers.

Fail

There they were, glistening and new, kind of. Well, "gently used." Didn't take long to direct their MS search engines to LSP. And I noticed, weirdly, that the annoying "Bing" loves this mind blog. Google? Not so much. Thanks, Big Tech censorship.

Terrapin

One small act of subversion over, the store speaker blared out, gulag style, "LSP, your vehicle is ready!" And so it was. Thanks, grease monkeys, for keeping the 270+k rig in working order.

And there you have it. Crush the NWO underheel.

Your Pal,

LSP

Go On, Unload The Truck

The local food bank was taking delivery of a big shipment this morning so I lent a hand unloading the truck. This meant I had to wear a mask for the first time in this strange and dystopic plague year.

Was the wretched mask necessary, and the curious black latex gloves which went with it? Who knows, they're just a "rule" at the food bank, but a Spyderco Persistence certainly came in handy for taking down boxes. It's my pandemic knife carry and seems right for the season.

Fascinating knives aside, there's a small Americana museum next door to the food bank, I think it's an excuse for someone to store his collection, and part of that means several ancient vehicles rusting in a lot beside the building. 

You can imagine the wonder of their makers at being told America would be shut down and 26 million unemployed in 2020 because of a Chinese Virus.

After a couple of hours the job was done and I headed off to Walmart to get some supplies for an elderly lady who doesn't get out much. You'll be glad to know this included a bottle of red wine, which she likes.

And please say a prayer for Linda G, a frequent commenter on this shallow mind blog. She lost her house to a tornado yesterday but, thank God, is safe and unharmed. 

LL puts it well, "Her comments on her own blog and on this one reflect her inner strength, her faith in God and her towering grace of spirit and love toward all." Well said, Mr. Wolf, and God bless you and give you strength, Linda.

Your Old Friend,

LSP

This is Crazy

A call, urgent, "This is crazy. They're buying all the toilet paper, you would say 'loo roll' or 'Andrex' but it's the same, and the shelves are empty. Send money. They're goddam tasering people."

"Hey, use backyard snow, it's safer. Who knows where that stuff was even made. Stand by for transfer."

All Means All

Thirty minutes later, cold, hard cash was on its way to loo roll stricken Calgary via ones and zeros, Walmart to World digital. Business over, I checked out the store. 

A Doomed Fool is Saved. By a Hero?

Plenty of bathroom tissue on the shelves, and I bought some, now there's less. But what about rice? Lots left, boil it first. 

Plenty of Loo Roll, in Texas

Over at the Pick 'n Steal the radio was on and playing a warning, "Wash your hands, we have this well contained. Do not panic." Maria was rattled, nervous, "I'm trying to sell these things and listen to, you know, this. They're shutting down schools and everything."

You Can Indict a Ham Sandwich

Maybe we should've shut the border with Communist, Godless China long ago. Maybe we should never have opened that border in the first place, and allowed the Bolsheviks to stew and ferment in their own version of hell masquerading as heaven. But no, smart people had to make money.

As ye reap, friends, so shall ye sow. Hope you're all prepped up and ready to bug-in before the shelves empty.

Cheers,

LSP

Gun Confiscation

Everyone's on the Left's howling for gun confiscation, again, and that's because some crazy shot up Odessa, Texas. Walmart's even announced it won't be selling pistol and "assault rifle ammunition" at its stores. I won't comment, but check out Tucker. I'd say he's right in the X Ring.

Disclaimer. I don't watch Fox or any other network, why pay for propaganda to be piped directly into your home to make you a better serf? Still, I'd say Carlson's value on this. Your call.

Gun rights,

LSP

This & That

Things get kind of hectic in the lead up to Christmas, even in the laid back rural wonderland of the Compound. Problem being that by tradition I drive to the metrosprawl a few days before Christmas to get presents.

Devolution?

I broke with unholy tradition this year by doing all the shopping right here in town, within view of the hangin' trees on the Square. Boom. Done. This freed up space and time to visit the flock, deliver Christmas gifts to the Fire Department and local LE, and visit the mighty Brazos.

The Mighty Brazos

No one was catching anything but it was good to see the river and plot against the piscine adversary. Recce patrol, sort of thing. Then Walmart got a look-in. I tell you, that's where the church should be because that's where the people are, in all their glory and everything else in between. 

A Beautiful Unicorn

Dwarves, unicorns, elves, all the flotsam and jetsam of Middle Earth in abundance, right here in North Central Texas; no kidding, like the court of kings. 

The Halls of Moria

Resisting the urge to set up in the midst of the action, I went about my business, got the job done and headed back to base in that sweet sunny southern weather.

Ride on

As I type this exciting letter home from the southern front of the War on Weather, pheasant's boiling in the pot along with assorted veg. It'll become a pie, a victory pie in the ongoing battle for or against global warming.

Take that, vast international readership, as you will.

Gun rights,

LSP

Black Friday Frenzy!

Black Friday. Here we are at one of the pyramid peak celebrations of the old lie. Viz. Buying more molded plastic and associated things will make you happy, fulfilled and rich. Being a citizen journalist, I went to Walmart to cover the story.

Mallbrawls, scrapping over flatscreens, getting into it over rollovers? No. You could've shot a canon down the aisles of cut price mammon and not hit a soul.

I walked away, as a committed Monarchist, with some eggs, carrots, bullets, a bottle of wine and pie crust pastry. It was easy, no lines.

Why the absence, had a neutron bomb gone off, were people too full to move or were they staying at home in a grass roots movement to boycott the big corp rainbow in favour of a return to the governance of Christendom?

On that theme, well done Russia, you're the one that got away from beneath the talons of the nihilist beast.

Stand.

LSP 

RAIN

You know what it's like. Walk out the door and you're in an oven, a preheating oven and there's no respite. Open the door to your rig and a blast of oven-hot air comes out and pounds you in the face. Relentless.

All in all it's like a furnace, so hot it seems the very air itself might ignite. That's probably why there's been a burn ban; wouldn't want any stray sparks catching the air on fire, would we.

And that's Texas in July, hot as Hell's Narthex, which was all too apparent in the parking lot of this asset-stripped rural haven's Walmart. 

There we were, the heat, the rig, the melting asphalt, Madonna singing Rain, it was hard to even move and then there it was. A cloud, a rain cloud.

It pulled in from the East and gathered momentum, thunderheads, and sure enough the heavens started to growl and rumble. Then lightning arced down like Satan falling from power and it began to rain.

Some of you, maybe all, will understand this. But whatever, take it as read that this Climate Change is a sure and certain gift from God.

Chill out,

LSP