On The Road

 

With apologies to Mr. Kerouac, I've been on the road lately, driving across the Texan country to visit the sick, tend the flock and take care of business.

And mess with tractors. That aside, the road took me to an old friend, Colonel E, who was languishing on the sickbed. Except that he wasn't. Full recovery, please. We prayed.

It was a good visit and full of memories. Many, many ride outs from his place to Lake Waco and plenty of racing to boot. 200 yard gallop? On! And beyond, to the trail by the little regional airport where you could really pick up steam and go flat out. Fast and flat. Big fun.

But that was then. Yesterday was communion from the reserved sacrament and with that, the true light which enlightens every man coming into the world entered my friend's home and soul.

The people, you understand, that sat in darkness saw a great light. Praise God for that.

Ride On,

LSP

Doddering Old Crook

 

It's been a good day. Some final "barning," running around and taking care of business, getting a prime rib for Christmas while we're still allowed to buy meat, and then home, only to see a picture of a doddering old mountebank.

There he was, the most popular president figure ever in the history of popularity greeting his new popularity dog, Commander. Look, what a lovable dog lover our Commander in Chief is! runs the risible PR. Is anyone fooled? Not Major, Biden's last dog who understandably took to biting everyone he saw on sight within the Beltway. But speaking of PR, perhaps you've seen this cheery Christmas message from the White House?

Wow, ding dong merrily on high, peasants. Better obey and vax up, serf, or you're gonna die and not just you, the very fabric of healthcare itself. We have to ask, what firm, what K Street gang of geniuses delivered this stunningly vote-winning campaign to our ruling elite gerontocracy. The same people who launched Commander at our Beloved Leader's pipestem ancient legs? 

Maybe they need to be fired, for sheer incompetence if nothing else. In the meanwhile, all the world continues in hysteria at an illness which might, possibly, kill 0.3 percent of the people it infects, but nonetheless makes others even more obscenely rich than they were already.

Your Irascible Friend,

LSP