Wymxn And Guns

 

Many wymxn are against guns because so violent. Get rid of gunz, they argue, and no one will shoot anyone because no gunz. Hey, it's not a bad argument, and wymxn use it all the time. 

Ban guns and there'll be less of them around, the wymxn say, and welcome to the new green rainbow gunless utopia! Unless, of course you're a criminal, in which case you've got a couple of Ukrainian AKs, an NLAW and far moar besides.

Old but Gold

That in mind, flash back to Ludlow October '22, where my friend, what a good woman, was not only against firearms but lamented the lack of police in her tiny little hamlet. No cops for miles around, no budget for that, and thank Gaia, no guns either.

"But tell me," quizzed the Colonel of the Dallas Light Cavalry (Irreg.), "What happens when some roughs out of Birmingham turn up at your door stop with a baseball bat, will you call the cops who won't be there? Yet another argument for the Second Amendment." Quite.

She frowned, stoically, and didn't press the point, being a gentlewoman, and neither did I, but let's be honest, slaves can't defend themselves and free-men can. True, eh?

Ludlow observation aside, and what a lovely town it is, things could get right rough in the next few years, if you can bear to do the math and face reality however grim. That in mind, smart people are taking note and planning accordingly. Don't say ammo and precious metal, and DOGE$, obvs.

Your Old Pal,

LSP

Random Gun Ramble

 

Get A Better Bipod

Waved the young, ahem, gentlemen off to the range via Chevy Trailblazer this afternoon and off they went with various weapons. A ChiCom SKS, a CZ SxS 20, a no-name Italian O/U 12, a Ruger American .22 and an Aero Precision AR 10, all very 7.62.

Boom, and what could possibly go wrong with this scenario? Good question, and I asked one of the young men if he was a shooter. "Not really," came the reply, "Just some time with 9s and .22," so I fixed him with a steely eye, "Just make sure you don't shoot your buddy, alright? That's a no-no." He then rattled off the rules of marksmanship and I felt marginally reassured.

Random Hallway Weapons

Well, all you parents out there, perhaps you get the concern and in case you think me somehow "micro," "helicopter" or "nanny state," consider this.

The man who owns the range, it's part of his farming empire, loves to shoot and he took his only son out to the place for some plinking enjoyment. All good, until the kid shot himself in the groin with a .22 and bled out on the way to the nearest hospital. It's a larf, right, until it isn't.

Clean the dam pistol, LSP

That in mind, the boys did well, didn't shoot each other and returned back to HQ in good style following an unreformed diner burger at Campbell's(?). Looks like a shack, is pretty much a shack, but serves great diner burgers, rock on.

Message to market. Enjoy firearms, blast away and be free, but respect the weapon for what it is. Does that sound sententious or preachy? No, just solid common sense.

Shoot straight,

LSP

Dictator

Do dictators arrest their political opponents, rig elections, ban demonstrations against their rule, surveil their subjects and enrich themselves through corrupt grift and kickbacks while the people of their country grow steadily impoverished?

Sure they do, and here's Tucker:

Ep. 4 Wannabe Dictator pic.twitter.com/MDcs5g0gxB

— Tucker Carlson (@TuckerCarlson) June 15, 2023

I'd say he nails it but hey, slap a climate change rainbow sticker on the operation and everything's just fine. Until, of course, you get a 4 am visit from the Tolerance Stasi. As in, how dare you speak out at the local school board after protesting the murder of babies in the womb, you Nazi. Time for jail.

Here in the States we're protected from this, to an extent, by the 2nd Amendment and the Enemy knows this, which is why they're attempting to remove it. "Free men," runs the saying, "Can defend themselves. Slaves cannot."

must finish off the project, albeit from the bottom of Lake Whitney & thx RHT

Gentlemen and women, be wise as serpents and innocent as doves and do not give up all those guns you sadly lost when the canoe capsized. Just saying.

Your Old Pal,

LSP

Guns

 

"So why do you support the 2nd Amendment?" asked a betasoy reporter from the laughable Dallas Morning Morning News. I replied, quick as a flash, mind like a veritable steel trap, "Because freedom," and off he wandered into the untamed jungle of a gun show.

Truck Gun

Seriously, isn't the ability to defend yourself one of the hallmarks of a free society? Sure, we pass that on to the State and the police, but what happens when they turn against you, which of course has never happened ever in the history of ever.

Just Some Guns

More than that, why should some kind of nanny state be precisely that, a nanny treating its citizens as toddlers in a transsexual kindergarten. No guns for you, infants, you might hurt zhirself! So put on three masks and get vaxxed so you'll be all safe, until you die of a heart attack or worse from an experimental gene serum foisted on you by Big Pharma and agitprop MSM.

Typical Pistols

Likewise, why should we hand over, as though it was a good thing, our existence and well-being to a secular state run by an ultra rich transnational elite which regards us as so many pawns/dirtpeople/untermensch to be sacrificed on the altar of their power. Why indeed.

What's with the fancy coat, so-called "LSP"?

In this country we're blessed by the Founding Fathers who put the right to bear arms into the DNA of America, a very difficult stone to dislodge. And for those attempting to do so, a rifleman behind every blade of grass.

Shoot straight,

LSP

Global Warming And Other Things

 

Yesterday was freezing, as in doomed retreats from Moscow. Today was hot, T shirt hot. Such is our fickle enemy, the WEATHER. Global Warming aside, or is it Climate Change?, we pulled into an ersatz burger franchise after Mass #2. The Specialist was hungry, "Dad, I'm really hungry, I have to eat!" 

I didn't say "bill it to the Army" and dutifully drove in to a drive through, where the attendants were indecipherable because they were wearing NKVD 95 masks. It was like one of my kid's dystopian computer games, mumble... mumble. "Say again," and so they did, "$5.67, four cheeseburgers."

Fortified by fake hamburgers and wondering why $4.67 has miraculously turned into $5.67, have these facsimile burgers somehow gained in value?, we drove back to the Compound where everything was well.

Shotgun by the door, check (older 870 Wingmaster). Aged Blue Heeler asleep on a Moslem rug, check. Sun shining, yes please and thank you God, decent red wine? Obvs. All good and time for a nap I thought, after all, a workman deserves his wages.

No sooner done than a knock on the door, "Can I come in, are you decent?" Resisting the urge to bellow damn your insolence! I replied "sure." The boy wanted me to look at his laptop, which I did. What the Devil is this?

A pass grade on his CS degree practice semester test. Well done, young man. Now take the real deal and ace it.

Point being, gentlemen and gentlewomen, life is made up of small victories. As in, "Crush the Marxist snake underheel."

Ad Maiorem Dei Gloriam,

LSP

Cooking With LSP - Fish on Friday

Cooking with LSP? That's a great idea. Look, enough of your sarcasm, here's how it's done. Get on a boat and catch some Striper, then watch in awe as your Guide fillets the fish in a fraction of the time it'd take you. Guide magic, but hey, it's his job. Next step?

Take the fillets back home and put 'em in the fridge, only to be taken out later in the day. Behold their piscine glory and as you do, pour an inch or two of oil into some heavy metal (dutch oven), put this on medium/high heat along with a candy thermometer. As the oil does its thing, wash the fish, salt and pepper it, and leave it on a cutting board while you prepare the batter. This is easy.

Put 1 cup of flour into  a mixing bowl, glass or plastic, your call. I use glass, not being Eastern European. Then add 1 teaspoon of baking powder, a pinch of salt, some cracked pepper and whisk it about. 

Job well done, pour in a bottle of beer or soda water and stir it up. The mixture should end up like thinnish pancake batter. But that's not all, put half a cup of flour in a bowl next to the batter, you'll use this to dredge the fish.

Done? Salute your endeavor with a glass of wine or something else, your call, no rule, but don't take too long, there's oil to be watched. So glance over at your heavy metal and check the oil's temperature. It should be between 365-70 degrees.

This is important. If the oil's too hot it'll ignite and destroy your kitchen like some kind of air bomb, you don't want that. If it's not, whatever's being fried will sit in the unpleasant oil and become a greasy mess. So, make sure it's hot, I recommend 370*, this will fry your fish without it becoming a grease nightmare.

This achieved, take a piece of fish,  dredge it in flour, coat it in batter and place it in the heavy metal. Watch it boil and fry as you add more fillets to the cauldron. You'll know when they're done, crispy, golden brown awesomeness. 

And just for kicks you can do the same thing for a side, I went down the onion ring route, you may choose differently, your choice.

Then fall upon your scoff, like a warrior,

LSP

Lee Speed

 

You may scoff and wag your heads saying "Lsp is a fool," and that's as maybe, but I do have a liking for Lee Enfield rifles. That's partly nostalgia, they were a part of my youth, and partly because they're cool, especially the early sporter Lee Speeds.

Safari sights, elegant wood, hand checkering, the redoubtable and smooth as silk Lee action all combine together to make a beautiful weapon at a fraction of the cost of an equivalent Mauser. And guess what, the rifle has that Edwardian awesomeness we all love. God save the Tzar King. Result.

That in mind, I put in a call to a pal, "Hey, you're kinda in the business. Can you find me a Lee Speed? It must work, not interested in a wall hanger." Which brings us back to art philosophy.

Guns are works of art, good or bad, the Lee Speed being good. But their potential, as such, is only realized in their use, fulfilling the end or τέλος for which they were designed. Parse that as you will.

OK, discussion of matter, potential and act over, I won't be shooting majestic Lions or furious Cape Buffalo with my Speed, more's the pity. But exercising ballistic Edwardiana against paper's no bad thing either, to say nothing of unexpected targets of opportunity.

Don't brake for Communists, readers, all two of you.

Gun rights,

LSP

The Baptism of Christ and Other Epiphanies

We celebrate the Baptism of Christ today and find an epiphany, God is a trinity of persons, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. "This is my beloved son," says the Father as Christ rises from the Jordan and the Spirit, like a dove, rests upon him. But what of the baptism?

Jesus, taking sinful humanity on himself descends into the waters only to rise again to the acclaim of the Father, and the heavens are opened to him and the humanity he has assumed. We will see this again as our Lord descends to the dead from Golgotha and rises from the tomb at Easter. So we find another epiphany, Jesus' baptism at the outset of his ministry describes its salvific action. 

No wonder, then, that the Spirit rests on him like the dove over the waters of creation or Noah's dove flying over the flood to dry land. Jesus is the Spirit anointed Messiah who recreates humanity through his passion, death and resurrection, the dry ground in whom we find entry to paradise.

All well and good, but the epiphanies weren't over. I got back to the Compound to find Christmas decorations being taken down and new decorations being put up. There they were, snowperson statues with owls on every table of the church hall. Gifte Shoppe snowperson centerpieces. But why, for what?

"I don't even like snowpersons," said the exhausted tablepiece decorator responsible for these wintry idols. "Why don't you shoot them then," I suggested, "Do you have a gun? No? Don't worry, I've got plenty, bullets too. You can borrow them." She declined, "But I like doing it, parson!" 

The snowpersons and their owls remain, as does the great mystery  and Feast of the Baptism of Jesus in the Jordan.

God bless,

LSP

Gone Fishing

"I know," I thought cleverly to myself, "I'll go fishing." And that was the plan for Monday morning, but it nearly got derailed because of a church PO Box and taking care of business.

Load up your rig with beer and tacos and head for glory.

Still, got to the lake and cast off with worms and a couple of lures, but the fishing was slow. Sure, a couple of bites here and there but nothing much. I blame that on the malfeasant, demonic static unleashed by Fienstein and her cohort of satanists on the world. It confuses the fish.

Look what the FBI caught!

The hideous Golem representative from California and her puppet aside, I managed to catch a decent Bluegill and had a couple of strikes with topwater. Some kind of Rapala lure, I think.

Then it was time to head home, happily tired out by clambering around the rocks of Soldier's Bluff in search of fish. Next step?

Blue SCOTUS

GUNS, and horses. This is important.

Your Pal,

LSP

Country Life In Texas

Country life in Texas is usually, for me, all about shooting, riding, fishing and a bit of hunting but this summer's been different.

It's been about getting a young 'un enrolled in High School, into the football team and its preseason workouts, getting his vaccinations up to date, finding employment for the fellow, you can't be hanging around here all day in bed and if you do you've got another think coming type of thing.

And generally readjusting to being a full-time parent again after many years. To say nothing of recovering from a rib injury, which puts a damper on the sporting life. 

So there's not been much getting out in the field, apart from walking Blue Aggressor through packs of stray dogs to the local pick 'n steal, but that's not to say the operation has ground to a halt, far from it. Also, one of the Missions was dealt a bad blow in the sudden loss of its Senior Warden, a fine Christian lady. May she rest in peace. 

And there you have it, a fascinating snapshot into the vagaries of LSPland and I tell you this. I'd rather be wrangling with all of it in the country than in one of our dismally failed, social experiment urban hellholes.

I file this exciting report under Country Life In Texas. 

God bless you and God bless Texas,

LSP

MAGA Shines Upon Texas

The MAGA Light shines brightly in Texas, perhaps because Rick "He May Be A Fool But He's Our Fool" Perry is the nation's new Energy Secretary. Well, there was plenty of energy spilling out of the heavens on the way to Mass this evening.

And there was steak, which is cheap and plentiful in Trump's America. I mean for goodness sake, you can buy a solid Threeper for $15 at the commissary.

MAGA At Every Level

I like Strips, seared in heavy metal, brought to heat in a 400* oven and served with whatever. Maybe vegetables, maybe not. Some, most, would call that winning. Unless they're Austin vegans who live off tofu, bark, nuts and other people's money.

Austin Hippies Goofing Off

They scorn the MAGA Light, like Soros, who lost a billion big ones after the election. Bad luck, George, you lose, Trump wins.

Hangin' At The Tower

In other news, Le Pen was seen in the Golden Tower. Who knows, maybe France will become great again, too.

Ban the Burqa,

LSP

Chicken Operation

Being a rural priest, I get out on the farms. Some of them have chicken operations.

And people say to me, they say, LSP, are these eggs any better than the other eggs, the little Rubios, or the Hillarys? And I tell them that Hillarys and Rubios are pigs and don't lay eggs. Well they do, but it's a different kind of egg, an egg that's no good. I'm being polite. But these are beautiful eggs, they're gold, they have golden yolks, everybody loves them, they're uniters. They're great eggs, unlike the Hillarys and the Rubios, who are terrible, just terrible. Nobody wants them, they're so bad.

The Rubios are tiny, they're tiny little eggs, you look at them and they're gone. The Hillarys are big, they're huge but they're old, big and old, maybe they wear a pantsuit, like a demon. Nobody wants them, who can blame them? I don't blame them, they want my eggs because they're great. Beautiful great eggs that aren't little, they're not old, and they're great because they're full of flavor and they're behind a wall. A wall that lets them lay in peace. These birds are safe from the Hillarys and the Rubios, that's why they lay great eggs. It's a movement, a beautiful movement, like a family.

Right, enough of that nonsense. People do really ask me if farm fresh eggs are better than their cousins in the supermarket and I have to say yes, they are. They have more flavor, a more golden yolk and, to put it simply, taste better. They really do.

If the SHTF, which it might, we're sorted for eggs. And beef, and chicken, lamb, water, guns and veg. Oh, and ammo and horses.

Prep on.

LSP

Mad Peacock

After the first Mass of the day we all gathered in the parish hall for "coffee hour," and the talk was mostly about bobcats and goats. Then we were interrupted by an unearthly noise.

It sounded like some kind of alien being, high and crazy, but it was just a mad peacock. Up in a tree.

I'll be going out on a bobcat hunt later this evening.

Keep living the dream,

LSP

Build a Gun Rack? Good Idea.

A whole new year needs a whole new project, so why not turn your study into a gun room? I thought to myself, incisively. That way I'd be able to study and hang out with my friends, the guns.

Someone's neat foldaway gun racks

Part of this might well entail fitting the room's sturdy work table for reloading. Another part will definitely mean getting a gun rack, maybe two. I think I will build one, out of wood.

Stay tuned for the next exciting installment of Build Your Own Gun Rack!

Cheers,

LSP

Dog

I wasn't looking for a dog. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a comsymp dog-hater, I just wasn't looking to get one. But Blue Eschaton thought otherwise. He turned up on the porch and didn't leave; I fed him, perhaps that helped.

The rest is history. I doctored him up and took him to the range, where he hasn't died yet, despite jumping up to catch the bullets. And now he's here; some think he's making his way to Californy, others think he's staying in Texas, where it's safe.

One thing's for sure. Blue Apocalypse loves Christmas, no doubt about it. He even snarls at people who say "Happy Holidays."

I like all of this.

LSP