Showing posts with label apocalypse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label apocalypse. Show all posts

Saturday, November 4, 2023

Take Note You Heathen

 


This seemed especially on point, from Evening Prayer (1928 BCP obvs) tonight:


"Tell us, when shall these things be? and what shall be the sign of thy coming, and of the end of the world? And Jesus answered and said unto them, Take heed that no man deceive you. For many shall come in my name, saying, I am Christ; and shall deceive many. And ye shall hear of wars and rumours of wars: see that ye be not troubled: for all these things must come to pass, but the end is not yet. For nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom: and there shall be famines, and pestilences, and earthquakes, in divers places. All these are the beginning of sorrows."

 

just coz


See that ye be not troubled, stay steadfast to the end and win the crown of glory.

Here endeth the Lesson,

LSP

Saturday, October 28, 2023

Serious Business


En lieu of anything remotely serious from me, here's the inimitable Armchair Warlord on last night's raid into the Strip:


Update: Israeli troops withdrew after some skirmishing.  It's unclear whether they ever actually entered Gaza proper or engaged from beyond the fence, or how well the respective sides came off.

The fundamental problem the IDF and the Israeli government in general faces right now is that to accomplish their stated goal of destroying Hamas, bombing, shelling and armored incursions into open areas of the Gaza Strip (which they had restricted themselves to in previous rounds of fighting) will not do the job.  At some point Israeli APCs are going to have to roll up to the first line of shattered concrete housing blocks, drop ramps and dismount infantry.  And those infantrymen are going to have to get behind their assault rifles and go to work.  Block by block, building by building, room by room, through an army of enemies and an ocean of civilians, until the job is done.

I think at this point Netanyahu has placed an order with the butcher for a bloodbath and now he doesn't want to pay the bill.

 

I won't comment but will repeat: 


At some point Israeli APCs are going to have to roll up to the first line of shattered concrete housing blocks, drop ramps and dismount infantry.  And those infantrymen are going to have to get behind their assault rifles and go to work.  Block by block, building by building, room by room, through an army of enemies and an ocean of civilians, until the job is done.

 

Serious business. 

Pax et Bonum,

LSP

Friday, October 27, 2023

APOCALYSPSE

 



There we were, on the back porch of the Compound about to say Evening Prayer when I looked up and lo and behold, hundreds of buzzards were flying overhead. Wow, there they were, gliding overhead into the West.



"Is this the Apocalypse," I texted a pal who's doing some kind of concert series in Europe, all very 41 musicians on stage with accompanying noise and smoke, Kyrie Eleison. Then I looked up and there was another wave of big birds, filling the air, like some kind of bomber wing.




"Is this," I thought in wonder, "the Eschaton?" No fooling, I've never seen such a thing here, and yet there they were. Harbingers of apocalyptic doom. Perhaps. That in mind, it's all going on everywhere and you can Gaza read about it on the Information Superhighway.


Typical Haruspex scene

Has this, dear readers, all eight of you, made us more or less informed. As we reflect on this, consider the omen witnessed in the expansive blue skies of the North Central Texan Free State this evening. Terrifying, eh? 

In totally different yet related news, can any of you recommend a luxury, old skool, sleeper train ride.




Seriously, a luxury, old skool train and sleeper to boot, preferably with an outdoor observation deck and windows must open, which I think counts out our appalling Amtrak. Totally open to suggestions.

Haruspex,

LSP

Sunday, June 11, 2023

ESCHATON

 



Thunder and lightning SMASH down upon this small asset-stripped Texan farming community, shaking the ancient wooden timbers (what?) of the Compound. Like no kidding, a ferocious storm, turning night into day with all the fury of an electric universe.




Yes indeed, the climate's changed with elemental, eschatological fury. And so we stand, undaunted, on the rain lashed porch, daring our adversary to do its worst. 

Seriously, this storm's pretty crazy, be safe out there.

Apocalypse,

LSP

Wednesday, April 26, 2023

Thunder Lightning Eschaton

 


Thunder roars and rumbles across the sky and lightning sears and cracks the heavens as rain lashes down with elemental fury. Yes, this is Texas, and the days of our small rural farming community may be numbered as assorted trash, needles, broken shoes, dime bags and weaves wash away in the flood.

A cleansing, perhaps. But on a practical note, as you look up from weapons cleaning, polishing Sam Brownes and ironing uniforms, it's said that enough rain falls in Texas to keep your compound irrigated throughout the year, if you collect the rain.

We have yet to build a cistern(s) and that's clearly overdue. You see, when the grid goes down how will you get lifegiving water to your home via electric pumps which don't work? 

You get the point. In the meanwhile, we're watching this storm in all its incandescent fury.

Eschaton,

LSP


Thursday, May 5, 2022

Cinco De Mayo Apocalypse

 




Rain lashed down as lightning cracked across a darkening sky and thunder rolled across the firmament like massed guns on the Donbas salient. Terrifying. Of course I set up on the porch and braved the elemental power of the storm while the Compound shook and shuddered with each blast of celestial fury. 




Then it was time to head to the kitchen and make coffee, wondering at the day turned to night. Was this the apocalypse, the Eschaton, brought on by our Old Enemy the Weather? Will there be anything left of this small Texan farming community when the waters subside? Discarded weaves, tamale husks, meth bags? Such is the wake of the flood.





Blue Ahab didn't venture an opinion, being unable to speak as well as blind, but he looked in need of a treat or two, delicious Alpo Variety Snaps, which he loves with fierce abandon. "Have these delicious snaps, my furry Bulgakov," I uttered, giving the faithful protector a couple of irresistible chicken flavor dry biscuit things. Yum. 


Doggerland Utopia

At last the storm's subsided, and this part of Texas still stands firm above the waters of chaos. We have not sunk beneath the flood unlike the hapless DOGGERLAND.

Stay Safe,

LSP

Tuesday, April 5, 2022

Just Scanning The Horizon

 


So here we are, on a cheery Tuesday evening in CONUS or more precisely, North Central Texas (NCT). And what's going on? Vultures were gathering on lamp posts this morning as I patrolled to the Pick 'n Steal. Ominous, apocalyptic perhaps.

Were they a presage of things to come, the death of the PetroDollar in the face of a gold backed Ruble/Yuan? Maybe and let's face it, how can a currency which is an IOU at interest to a privately owned bank, the Fed, be worth anything other than debt? And we all know the problem with that, at some point someone wants to be paid back.


payback?

In other news, the Ukraine action is clearly a genocide, yes, of late Soviet era tech, and true to form our media and ruling elite are more or less baying for World War III. We have to mobilize for Ukraine if we don't want our democratic freedom to be destroyed by Russia, which has a GDP rather less than California.

Such an existential threat or would that be PR firm agitprop reinforced by every mainstream media outlet in the Western world. Remember Trump? Of course you do, what a miserable, traitorous Russian spy. As you savor his despotic, orange, NYC perfidy ask which country allows Christian prayer in state run schools. Which country isn't able to define the difference between men and women? Hint, not Chechenya.




But enough of that, we'll see how it all plays out. In the meanwhile, curry's on the go, vegetarian because Lent, and mango chutney. Here's the thing. A curry without mango chutney is a poor beast, but who wants to drive all the way to Waco to get it? No one. Solution? Make it yourself.

Stay tuned for another episode of Cooking With LSP.

Your Buddy,

LSP

Thursday, February 3, 2022

ICE ESCHATON

 



Ice blew like shrapnel against the ancient timbers of the Compound, whipped up and blown in by a fierce Northern wind. Hurtful metaphors of the War aside, this wasn't a dream, no, it was a winter storm, an Ice Age Eschaton right here in North Central Texas.




No kidding. The new day dawned and off I went into the icy void, and it was a void. You could stand in the street, fire a canon and hit no one. They were all "sheltering in place" like Justine Trudeau. Not me. No, I went out for a short walk in the ice particle storm.




The Meth shack was was empty and frozen, the Pick 'n Steal? Closed. Go figure, but Alanon was open, right there in the center of town. "What's that, a refill and a pack of Marlboro Lights?" Right on, then back into the bracing wind.


Your Old Pal

I texted a pal in the Old Country, "Look, ESCHATON." He replied, "PALE HORSE."

Stay warm and safe,

LSP

Sunday, November 21, 2021

Christ The King - A Sunday Sermon

 


It's the Feast of Christ the King today and the readings at Mass present us with a glorious vision of the majesty of God. In Daniel's prophecy we see the Ancient of Days, mystically enthroned in fiery power and the Son of Man given "dominion, glory and kingdom," everlastingly. St. John the Divine takes up the theme,  "Jesus Christ" is "the faithful witness, the firstborn of the dead, and the prince of kings of the earth," the Alpha and Omega. Triumphant, then everything changes.

In John's Gospel we find Jesus in the Praetorium, on trial for his life before Pilate, before the power of the idolatrous Roman state. We know what comes next, Christ, the King, is scourged, crowned with thorns and crucified. And this jars, it doesn't seem right. Surely Pilate should be whipped as a pagan usurper in the Holy City, and aren't the false prophet Caiaphas along with his followers the ones deserving execution for blasphemy and treason?

Yes, according to the logic of the world, of the Beast, of Caesar, and the math of Satan. But Christ's kingship is not of this world, he says as much to Pilate. No, his is the Kingdom of God, the kingdom of love, and he witnesses this truth to the full with his sacrifice on Calvary. There, on the Cross, Christ manifested his kingship as the God of love, defeating the ruler of this world and inaugurating the kingdom, establishing his dominion over sin and death and reconciling us to the Father.

It is a kingdom which will be fully revealed at the end of time, when our sovereign returns as he left, in clouds of glory. At that point,  "every eye will see him, every one who pierced him; and all tribes of the earth will wail" as the beast is burned with fire while the righteous shine like the sun.

But this is for the future. In the meanwhile, the Pilates of our age, of the godless state, to say nothing of false prophets, wax large. As it was in the Praetorium so it is now, Antichrist appears ascendant. And as foretold, they come with lying signs and wonders, "Look, we can conjure money out of thin air, from nothing. We are Gods." A satanic parody of creation, and that's just our financial system; enough to deceive the very elect.

Do not be fooled. They're not gods and neither are we, "It is he that hath made us and not we ourselves." He, Christ, is our true Sovereign, the king of kings and lord of lords who, on his return at the end of the age will blow wickedness away like smoke before the wind and the Beast along with Satan and his apostate angels will be cast into the lake of fire.

Wait for this in confident hope and as we do, as we watch and pray, ask God to fill us with great faith and love such that when he comes our savior and king who reigns from the Cross will recognize us as his own, as his faithful soldiers and servants, sheep of his pasture, sinners redeemed by his precious blood, and will raise us at the meeting to glory.

Christus Rex,

LSP

Tuesday, November 9, 2021

Random

 



Cars and strip malls. You can smell it when you park up in front of the credit union, Margeritas To Go, Chipotle, Sonic, Taco Bell and on. There they are, spewing out fast food exhaust as you park in front of the bank. Hey, I'm not judging but it was weird to venture into suburban DFW metrosprawl today.




This, I thought to myself, is how most people live here. Good, bad, indifferent? I don't know, but what I do know is that all it'd take would be one big tornado to strip it all to the ground. Great would be the faux adobe of its fall. But the wind didn't rise, much, and I35 back to the Compound was mercifully clear, result.




Now, food for thought. When everything gets nasty and money, water and food don't work, how are you going to get out of the cities? Will FEMA or the Army help you? Perhaps the apocalypse elves will spring into action and save everyone. Or not.

Here in this rural haven we're cleaning weapons, throwing last year's furniture in the fire, banking crypto and loading mags.

Your Pal,

LSP

Monday, October 18, 2021

Buttigeig Redux

 

Gag


Keen-eyed readers, all three of you, might remember a weirdly disturbing photo of our transport supremo in a hospital bed, holding a baby and looking at another man, also holding a baby. You'd be forgiven for thinking they were blasphemously mimicking something holy, a mother and her husband overjoyed at the birth of a child.

One glance tells you it's all wrong, there is no mother, there is no birth, nothing to warrant a hospital bed. This thing is a fake, an affair of the mind and a blasphemous parody.  But pay attention to detail, here's Katherine:


I've finally discovered what bothers me the most about that photo of these two guys and the babies. It's about them, not the children! They're gazing into each other's eyes, and the swaddled babies are props. Any new mother, in a similar photo, besides looking very tired, will be looking at her child!

 

Yes, it's all about them. Pride, gentlemen and gentlewomen, comes before a fall. We can imagine the magnitude of the approaching collapse. 

Eschaton,

LSP

Wednesday, September 29, 2021

Michaelmas

 



It's the great Feast of the Archangel today and we surely need his protection right about now. Here's a small sample, via Zero:


Evergrande’s going down.  And it’s taking the life savings of countless good people down with it.

But while Evergrande’s going down.  Food prices are going up.  Moreover, they’re going up a lot.

According to the United Nations Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO), global food prices were up nearly 33 percent year over year in August.  Vegetable oil, grains, and meat all cost more.  Unfortunately, rising food prices – and empty stomachs – often presage social chaos and revolution.

If you recall, a decade ago food inflation triggered the Arab Spring uprisings across the Middle East and North Africa.  And food shortages were commonplace in Communist Romania in the 1980s.  That was before the country’s dictator Nicolae Ceausescu was overthrown, tried by a kangaroo court, lined up against a wall, and executed by firing squad on Christmas Day in 1989.

Rare is the revolution ignited by a populace with a full stomach.  Historically, surges against an oppressive regime are sparked by a steep and extended rise in food prices.



 

 Rare is the revolution ignited by a populace with a full stomach. Take note, elite puppet stooge rulers of the NWO. You have been weighed in the balance and found wanting.

Sermon over, as you were,

LSP

Friday, September 24, 2021

The Apocalypse Begins


And so the Reich collapsed, only to be replaced by our own rainbow version of stainless steel tolerance. You'll note the Colonel v. Luftwaffe interaction. Someone's said, "So nothing's changed?"

Make of this ghostly infovideo what you will,

LSP

Friday, September 17, 2021

Patrolling The Aposcalypse

 

Eschaton


One of the things about the Apocalypse is that it's searingly hot. Imagine a preheating oven and in its midst are tiny fragments  of combustible dust, super dry, ready to ignite. No kidding, Texas in mid-September is like an air bomb about to go off. Terrifying.

It didn't fortunately, but dove did explode out of the trees as I patrolled their welcome shade. A few years back I thought nothing of walking the treelines in 100+* and scaring up dove, snapshot!, and you never know, sometimes the shot would even connect. Let's see those poppers.


an old fraud

These days an armed stroll in the oven doesn't have quite the same appeal, but the excitement of wingshooting does. Message to market? Go for a walkabout with a #20, shoot some fliers, hopefully, then set up along the flight path with some mojos and have at it.

Then put those morsels of apocalyptic goodness into cream-cheese-filled jalapenos, wrap the beasts in bacon and off you go, to Valhalla and beyond. But word to the wise.


chicom rubbish

Keep your finger off the trigger till you're ready to shoot.

Eschaton,

LSP

Sunday, September 5, 2021

Sunday Rambling

 



In some dioceses the bishop's visitation is a terrible thing, a nightmare. There you are when some unspeakable old heretic tips up with a view to destroying everything you believe in. Thank God it's not that way in the Diocese of Fort Worth. Our bishops stand firm for the Faith, they're successors of the Apostles as opposed to wicked mountebanks in the pay of Rainbow Baphomet.

So today was good, our bishop came, sung the Mass and preached, what a blessing. The Specialist even came down from Fort Hood to swing some incense, well done. Curiously, everyone in the sanctuary party was either former or active duty or involved in pro rodeo. Clearly a moral, if you care to draw it.

Then we fell back to the church hall for a delicious lunch, the mission eats well, and a good time was had by all. What a lot of fun, and I tell you, it's a real blessing to be in this diocese. 

Is it perfect? No. Should we be part of the wider Catholic Church, East and West? Yes. But so too should Rome and Constantinople be as one and, of course, the broken shards of the catholic mirror are one, essentially, in terms of faith, to say nothing of deeper sacramental union. 

Ut unum sint, may they all be one, prayed Christ. Do you think the Father somehow chose to ignore His Son's prayer? Hardly. The Mystici Corporis, the Mystical Body of Christ, the Church, is one by nature or essence. The unity is there; that we've wrecked it, in worldly terms, with competing jurisdictions and associated wickedness is, frankly, the Devil's work. 

My take, for what little it's worth, is that it'll take real persecution to bring about the outward and visible unity which strengthens the inward and spiritual. After all, it's in the Good Book, "Except those days should be shortened, there should no flesh be saved."

Apocalypse aside, what a great day.

Keep the Faith, you heathen,

LSP

Thursday, September 3, 2020

RAIN



Thunder rolled across the sky like the opening barrage on the Kursk salient as lightning cracked and exploded, shaking the Compound's ancient timbers with primal sound and fury. Then it began to rain.


A typical Aberystwyth Street Scene

No, not Aberystwyth or Oxford drizzle, but real rain, big rain, Texan rain. And with it the temperature plummeted from high 90s to low 70s in a matter of minutes. Lone cowboys caught in the open froze instantly, "snuff" still their mouths, half drunk cans of Coors Lite turned to ice.


Well look at that, it's Oxford and it's raining

The storm's subsided now and this small rural farming community rejoices in the newfound cool of the morning. Thank you, God, for sending us rain and a respite from living in an oven. And yes, it may be a small victory in our bitter war against The Weather, but every advance counts.

From the Front,

LSP

Friday, April 3, 2020

Walking The Eschaton



It was like a midsummer day in Borth on the Welsh Riviera. Overcast, a drizzling rain, not too cold, not too hot but no, this was North Central Texas and time to take Blue Eschaton for a walk.




The streets were empty, because of the Chinese Virus or because they always are? A mystery, and so was our old friend the Meth Shack. The Shack's under new management, who've been busy gutting the place with a view, presumably, to newer and better renters. Good luck with that worthy project.




Mourning the passing of an age, we advanced to the Pick 'n Steal. It still stands, essential business in the midst of lockdown. I tethered the Eschaton to an empty newspaper vending machine and went inside for a coffee "refill" in an invincible Yeti mug. 




The store's Owl Idol looked down with unflinching eyes on its supplicants, the usual crew of pajama wearin', slipper shufflin', lottery playin', blunt buyin' punters. There they were and there it was. Reassured that some things never change, I walked the furry apocalypse back to the Compound, mission accomplished. And then a curious thing happened.




Within a space of minutes, clouds rolled in from the north and with them a fierce wind. The temperature dropped like a stone in seconds, taking us from Borth in August to Borth in April. Fearing a Polar Vortex, I showed the Eschaton inside to warmth and safety.

Poor dog. You can imagine, centuries later, explorers discovering an elderly Heeler encased in ice, the remains of a fried cherry pie in his mouth, frozen where he stood on the awful day the Climate Changed.




That aside, I hope you've all managed to recover your firearms from the lakes and rivers and sensibly saved on SCUBA by use of powerful magnets and sturdy ropes.

God bless,

LSP