California Collapsing?

 

California is famous for being incredibly rich, populous, and totally lib progressive. A veritable Millionaire Socialist utopia, or is it? Perhaps people are fleeing the Golden State for a reason. Via Zero:

Yet now, California is in terminal collapse and crisis. Governor Gavin Newsom, farcically promoted by the national Mainstream Media (MSM) as a heroic White Knight in Shining Armor in the early days of the COVID-19 pandemic last spring has been exposed even in his own state as a catastrophic bungler and hypocrite who has never had a clue what he was – or more usually was not – doing. As I write, California’s sick and tired citizens are close to providing the 1.5 million signatures necessary to pull Newsom into what would certainly be a chaotic recall election.

 

Again:

Los Angeles, the state’s largest city and arguably the most populous now in the United States, has become a byword for violent crime and especially the stronghold of the enormous, ultraviolent and rapidly growing MS 13 organization, routinely mislabeled as a mere “gang” in media reports. MS 13 has up to 50,000 members worldwide of whom at least 10,000, officially, and probably twice as many according to the private assessments of many police officers are in LA.

 

And what about San Francisco, notoriously twinned with Austin?

San Francisco – America’s “anything goes” city – is in even worse shape. Its most famous, historically popular and beautiful stylish locations are now swamped with aggressive, unsanitary street people who openly urinate and defecate in the streets. Public services, long superb, are now appalling.

 

To say nothing of mindless, Green induced wildfires and rolling blackouts as energy follows the science and turns off. We had a taste of that in Texas last week when snow broke all the windmills.

The question is, will the rest of the country follow California's gender neutral Potato Head genius into dystopian nightmare? If the ongoing ammo shortage is anything to go buy, the people are voting "yes."

Cheers,

LSP

Road Warrior

C'mon kid, let's roll, which roughly translated means, hurry up, we're walking to school with the dogs via the Pick 'n Steal for coffee and I don't want you late.

Soon enough we were over the start line and heading for the Shamrock, staffed by Nepalese, thank you very much and mind the kukri, with Friday gamboling along like a puppy and Blue following at a more sedate pace.

Blue Valhalla's getting on in years and someone's been stealth feeding him when I'm not looking, so he's getting a bit portly. This isn't fair on the furry protector and means I'll have to put a lock on his feed bin or maybe a sign, "DON'T OPEN THIS. IT WILL EXPLODE AND DESTROY YOU."

Coffee, school, and dog walk objectives reached, I relaxed on the front office porch and thought about the effect of various bullets on my YETI mug; a range day's obviously in order. Then, Daily Office said, I drove to Fort Worth down good old I35W.

It's not a bad drive until you get to the metrosprawl, then it's a nightmare. What evil satanic geniuses convinced the American public to live in vast plastic sided suburbs, intersected by highways roaring past decaying strip malls. It's bad enough now, imagine the future.

One day the plastic will sag, decay, and fall, leaving square miles of chipboard houses to quietly implode back to nature while the highways collapse; the sheer slum of it will challenge all but the bravest explorers. Remortgage that, I dare you.

Regardless, I made it to the clergy day at Holy Apostles and very edifying it was too. Bishop Iker gave a good presentation on the state of the litigation against the Diocese and Dr. Stephen Noll talked about marriage. 

After lunch, I headed back to the compound, picked up the kid, drove him to work, drove back to the Compound, drove to Lake Whitney to say Mass and watched a film because it was the church's film night.

We watched the Gospel of John, which is just that, the Gospel of John narrated, with actors doing their thing in the background. I love John's Gospel. Then, kid being delivered to the church, it was time to brave TX-22 and get back to base.

The dogs were excited to see us. The pack was back, and I tell you, several hundred miles worth of driving aside, it all made for a good break from watching WWIII unfold in Syria and the slow moving coup against the President.

I file this exciting story under "road warrior."

God bless,

LSP

Mighty Hunter

A seasoned veteran of the intelligence community threatens to visit for a pig hunt in April and I think his method goes roughly like this. Wait for a massive tusker to charge you and then, calmly, deliberately, shoot it with a .357 Magnum revolver. Probably a Colt Python. In the meanwhile, LSP stands back with a 30 of some sort and a sharp kukri. 

LL Visits Texas

With that in mind, here's a typical hunting tale. 

As I patrolled along a hi-fenceline the dog came to a point, all attention, and there, 150 yards downhill to my left was a giant black pig, black hair bristling menacingly in the hot white light of a Texan morning.

Someone's Pig Hunt Gone Wrong

Fast as you like and maybe faster, up comes my AR, red dot hold on the shoulder of the pig, breathe, squeeze the trigger and... nothing. Try it again, is the gun broken? and... nothing. A split second of consternation.

Random Pictograph Somewhere in Texas

Then thumb-off the safety, fire, and the hog's running like a speeding maglev, barreling through the dystopian ruins of Detroit towards the Windsor tunnel. That one got off to fight again another day. 

Maybe this good fortune will change sometime soon.

Attention to detail,

LSP