Shack Street

 

One of the things I like to do is walk around and explore this bucolic rural haven in North Central Texas. But, to be honest, after 12 years there's not much you haven't seen. Not so fast, so-called "LSP." And I saw something new today, a new street I hadn't walked before, a street of shacks.

The adventure began after yet another meeting with a banker, which went well. We were opening a new account with some of the Mission's newly unfrozen funds, and the First National Bank of Texas were friendly. All well and good. After the meeting, I said goodbye to our Treasurer, "Debbie, thanks for that, I will now stroll to the pawnshop."

A Shack. Note boarded up assisted living complex in background

She paused, "What? You're walking?" I thought about that for a moment and answered, "Yes, Ma'am, I am. I have a ministry to the town's Pawns. A few years ago I buried Miss Dale, who ran the Gold Nugget. She used to ask me for Holy Water and I'd deliver, by the gallon. She claimed the customers needed it and I believed her."

A few moments later I found myself walking with purpose towards the pawn and suddenly it struck me, I've never been here before. Yes, it was sinister, somehow threatenning. There was a boarded up "assisted living" complex, residents gone, not even a crack commune inhabiting the vinyl floors and broken windows. I gazed at it in wonder. Why have I never seen this? It was like the Twilight Zone.

Another Shack. Thanks, Globalists

And so was the next street, a street of shacks. All new, I'd never seen them before, but they reminded me of the year or so the SPC stayed. As I drove him to High School to make sure he went, I'd point out a random shack, "Play your cards right, fella, and you too could live in one of those." Hey, he rose to the game and, let's not be proud, there but by the grace of God.

All too soon, Shack Street ended and there was a machine shop, flying a Come And Take It flag. That filled me with hope. All hail Texas. 

That in mind, let's rebuild our towns and make them the communities they should be, as opposed to asset-stripped slums, gutted by transnational elite oligarchs who hide under a veneer of Millionaire, sorry, Billionaire Socialism.

Your Pal,

LSP

All Hail The Empire

 

Behold the glory of Lord Curzon and the Raj. Of course people, especially the English, say the Empire was a terrible, heinous thing, because medicine, roads, no slavery, schools, law and all the rest was wicked and racist, unlike suttee and thugee.

And you know what those things mean. Chucking living widows on funeral pyres and strangling people, to the tune of 20,000 a year to the goddess Kali. Wicked? Yes. Racist? Hardly, it was homegrown, but don't talk about the equitable caste system.

Regardless, if you go to Trafalgar Square, even now, you'll be struck by the triumph of the thing, an exuberance of Union Jacks. I love that and I suspect a lot of English people do too, even as they're scorned by the dead hand of Blairite globalist leftism.

So, fire Cressida Dick, Sadiq Khan and all the other comsymp lefties who've taken over the sceptered isle with a view to destroying it.

Your call, Great Britain. Rise to it, please.

Emp. Ind.

LSP

A Stroll To The Shop

The day dawned, with an already fierce sun rising above the treeline, a portent of heat to come. Undaunted, resolute, I loaded the Blue into the rig and drove to the "shop" to get the truck's indicator lever fixed.

Blue liked the ride, an adventure for him these days, and then we walked back to the Compound through the sylvan streets of old Lspboro. Great exercise for the furred Eschaton and good for me too, furthest I've walked since getting kicked off an Arab a year ago.

Safely back at the security of the Compound, I caught up with email, read the news, pondered the iniquity of Marxism, called up the flock, said the Office on the porch, and generally made myself useful until the "shop" called back, "All ready to go, buddy, $360." 

Pretty much exactly what I'd figured. So, off I strolled through the leafy boulevards of this small farming community to the jolly old "shop."

The sun was already rising high and its heat beginning to bounce and shimmer off the roads, paved and unpaved. It's a fierce climate, no doubt about it, which says something about the country people who live in it. 

A tough crew, for sure, but mostly friendly with it. Maybe that's because of a "we're all in this together against the climate" frontier spirit, sort of thing. 

Perhaps. I walked past the site of our old cotton gin, which closed in the 1950s. Good work, proto-globalist asset-strippers. It's becoming a storage facility for broken AC units and U-haul trucks. 

Around the corner from what used to be industry is a kind of open air market, or Suq. No one steals from it, for some reason, and there it sits, rusting metal under a hot, dry sun.

You can buy round bales too, though I don't, shamefacedly, know the cost. Hey, lotta money in grass and I'm glad it's not my job to shift it on and off the trailer.

A few shacks and an RV at the "shop" later, the mission was accomplished. One bright, shiny and working indicator lever achieved. It felt good to have it working again, though I resented having to unlock the safe and pry out cold, hard cash to pay for the plastic miscreant. Made in China? Better not be, and that's for sure.

Next stop? Walmart, where I have a virtual chapel and the wherewithal to buy steak in honor of the 4th, Independence Day. But what's that line?

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."

Gentlemen and women, you have a Republic if you can keep it.

Your Patriotic Pal,

LSP

BREXIT FAIL

Theresa May's famously failed to deliver on BREXIT. No one saw that coming; now she has to face a vote of no confidence in her non-performing loan against the British people.

Good luck with that and just in case you haven't noticed, the people across the Channel are rioting against their out of touch, elite, smug, venal, self-serving, mendacious, Illuminati sycophant , bankster globalist leaders.

That wouldn't have anything to do with the UK now, would it.

Rule Britannia,

LSP

Remember Pearl Harbor

Remember Pearl Harbor and remember too, that like Hitler, the Japanese didn't think Americans had the stomach for a fight. They were wrong.

The Chinese might think the same today as they expand into the Pacific; one part of a broader attempt to achieve imperial status, and you can't blame them. 

Past US administrations were in the habit of bowing to the Chicom mandarins, whether literally or otherwise. Which brings us to the elite globalists in charge of Europe.

They figured they had the indigenous populace down, that the people were tame to being transformed into a third world workforce. And, like the Japanese vision of America on December 7 1941, were too degenerate and ignorant to fight back.

You can see why this crew of malfeasants thought like this, all the evidence pointed that way. Until it didn't. The Rising Sun didn't look so bright on VJ Day, 2 September 1945, Trump doesn't bow to China and the French are rising up against their elitist, NWO rulers.

Who'd have thought it. America was safely in the Illuminati Sac Magique, Hillary was going to win and France, right in the heartland of the neo-lib project was safely in the rainbow wheelie. But no. 

Pay-to-Play Hillary didn't get elected and the French are busy firebombing tax collection offices while Macron's deploying armored vehicles in Paris. But here's a question. 

What side of the equation do the people who enforce the government's dictates side with, where do they come from; the people who go to cocktail parties at G-20, Davos and Georgetown or somewhere else?

If I was Macron or May I'd be scared, right about now. Stay tuned for peasants' revolts in the UK and everywhere else.

Peace and Love,

LSP

Macronite Armistice Day

As world leaders met in Paris for the 100th anniversary of the armistice that brought an end to the Great War, French President Emmanuel Macron took the opportunity to blast nationalism.

“Patriotism is the exact opposite of nationalism. Nationalism is a betrayal of patriotism,” stated the unpopular French leader in an apparent attempt to boost New World Order globalism.

Look How The Globalists Hate Putin

Macron, who is a despised Illuminati puppet, is tanking in the polls with a miserable 19% approval rating. He used to work for the enormously powerful Rothschild banking cabal, and presumably isn't impressed by the fact that patriotic Americans and many others died to save his nation.

Thumbs Up

Just think, all those misguided members of the French Resistance who betrayed their patriotism by loving their nation. Such traitors!

But seriously, if you're an unpopular Macronite who hates nationalism but loves patriotism, then what are you patriotic for, what's your patria? It's obviously not your country or nation because that's evil, so what's left?

Behold Your Rulers

How about a borderless European secular superstate, complete with its own army and ruled by unelected MillSoc mandarins in Brussels. And guess who pays for that, at interest.

Surely not the Rothschilds.

LSP

Not Happy

Lo and behold, World War III didn't start last night, at least not immediately, so that's all good. But it came dam close. 

Ask yourself this. Are we, and the West at large, in the grip of evil people, people who would destroy what's left of our civilization for the sheer nihilist joy of the ruin. And have these wicked people co-opted our government?

Good question. In the meanwhile, thank God the Russians didn't fire back last night, and I'll be straight-up. I'm not happy about this at all. 

We should be allies with Russia in the face of the twin evils of the Secularist and Islamic Jihad. Nationalist Trump and nationalist Putin should be working together, contra globalists. There's clear commonality.

Has that been hijacked by the Illuminati Death Stooges of the NWO? Don't say House of Saud and...

Don't fear the Reaper,

LSP