Smoke Rises

 

Yes, over the Dallas Compound, but not because of errant Iranian drones or rogue F 4 strikes. No, because it seems right to grill up some chicken on this beautiful springlike day. In related news, the UK's airbase in Cyprus was hit by drones or missiles, maybe via Hezbollah, and guess what? It didn't have any air defense. 

Well go figure. You'll also be amazed to know there aren't any Royal Navy ships stationed off Cyprus or anywhere else much, so the kindly Greeks have stepped in and sent a frigate and a couple of F 16s, or something like that, to defend Crown interests against the missile armed savages. You can imagine, dear readers, Lord Palmerston going apoplectic with rage at such a dismal state of affairs. 

Terrifying prospect, but in the meanwhile we most definitely seem to be at war, UK assistance notwithstanding. What's your take on it? I'd say, for what little it's worth, that it's a good thing to take out the Ayatollahs and free the Persians. Can we do it without causing yet more chaos and nation wrecking in the Middle East? Precedent argues we won't, but maybe we'll buck the trend. For that matter, do we have enough munitions and their resupply to conduct a protracted war?

If not, this whole thing's a great gamble. To put it another way, will Iran fold like a paper monkey. Or not. Not being a betting man, I'm keeping my fighting monkey safely out of the ring to wager on a safer bet. You may feel otherwise, your call.

And almost forgot! Let's have Constantinople back while we're at it. You'll note the Iranians haven't attacked Turkey, a NATO member, even as they attack the UK, also a NATO member. 

Cheers,

LSP

Αγνή Παρθένε

I love this. The sound of Crusade and Advent.

Μαρία ἀειπάρθενε κόσμου παντὸς Κυρία,    

 Ἄχραντε νύμφη πάναγνε, Δέσποινα Παναγία.    

Μαρία νύμφη ἄνασσα, χαρᾶς ἡμῶν αἰτία,    

Κόρη σεμνή, Βασίλισσα, Μήτηρ ὑπεραγία.    

Τιμιωτέρα Χερουβείμ, ὑπερενδοξοτέρα,    

Τῶν ἀσωμάτων Σεραφείμ, τῶν θρόνων ὑπερτέρα.

Ave Domus Aurea,

LSP

DEPLOY SMOKE

 

Everything was going well. Chicken? Marinading in the fridge. Weber? All fired up, deploying smoke and ready to go. Then, just as we were about to launch over the start line LL called from the mountain fastness of the Wolf's Lair in Arizona's infamous highlands.

"Hey LSP, thanks a lot for inviting me. I like kebabs too."

"Look, you know it's an open invite."

"Do you have swords?"

"Of course."

"I thought you would."

"And don't get me wrong, I scorn the Sultan. That's why I made Tzatziki. You know, Greek. We need the Bosphorus back, and Hagia Sophia with it."

"Yeah, I know. And you need to expand from Fleet Padre to that guy who gives the thumbs up or down in the arena."

"Hippodrome?"

"Exactly."

 

 

Remove Kebab aside, we waxed large on Mozambique's pirate problem and the upcoming buccaneer LCS fleet. OK, the ships are pathetically underarmored and undergunned, only having one lightweight canon ("pop gun" - LL). We'll have to sort that out, perhaps with batteries of surplus Bofors. Nice touch, and they can go on the landing deck. Bad luck, Jihad. 

But what had happened to the deliciously grilling chunks of chicken in the meanwhile? Well, they were doing their thing but the fire had burned down low, throwing off timing. The Compound's version of naan got in the way too, roll out that dough, LSP. Bread's a production.

All this and more stood in the way of what was supposed to be a Cooking With LSP super kebab post. The chicken was OK but not the kind of perfection we expect. Naan? Alright, but not awesome. And you say Naan, but it was more like a regular flatbread than anything else. No rule? On the contrary, it should be fluffy, delicious and melt in your mouth. Tzatziki was right on the money though. Nice.

So stay tuned for a kebab special, in which we grill the Turk, free Levantine Christendom and take back Justinian's remarkable cathedral. And end up with good scoff to boot. As it is, the leftover chicken's simmering in a pot and curry beckons.

Your Culinary friend,

LSP

A Private Update

The onetime Cadet, now Private, called in from Fort Gordon. He was in rude good health and enjoying the ins and outs of learning to be a tech warrior, though he wants to branch out into something kinetic with it. But first things first.

"Dad, I got punished last week."

"What for?"

"Left a Cheetos wrapper under my cupboard."

"Ah. Good. Attention to detail, right?"

A self-policing voice chimed in, "Don't wanna do that, man, gets roaches in the room." The Private agreed, manfully, "Uh, yeah, that's right," and then laughed, he'd had to write out a chapter of SOP and go on punishment parade for a week. 

I told this edifying tale to a teller at the bank in Whitney and she gave me a fist pump, "Yes!" Imagine the utter disaster if the Army allowed these malfeasants to behave according to their own devices. 

Cheeto skulduggery aside, all seems well in the kid's A School. He should graduate in June and get attached somewhere "network." This, he says, is typically "mobile." Which roughly translated means, "Dad, I want to be part of a Battle Group." His mother's not too keen on that, for obvious reasons.

Still, I get his point, I'd want action too if I was 19 and part of the greatest military the world's ever seen. Secondment to the GREEK LEGION? Just a thought, and let's have Constantinople back where it belongs.

Θερμοπύλαι,

LSP