Driving Into The Sun

 

It was like some kind of Golden Void on the way down 22 to Mass this evening and no complaints from me on that score, all hail the countryside. Then, ite missa est, it was time to head back to the Compound, except it wasn't.

No, a young couple asked me to bless their marriage. It was an heterosexual marriage, so I did. Well done kids, long may you reign in this dark and barbarous age. Then, no sooner Texas said than done, the Compound opened its storied doors and there it was, home.

Result, but immediately a call, "What's up, son?" a pause, "Hey dad, I'm in town." Well done you, and a few minutes later in came a soldier storming through with a Whataburger and a Green to Gold packet. Good work, kid.

Seriously, it'd be a grand thing if the erstwhile Cadet became an actual Cadet. Let's see how this goes.

Salve,

LSP

This - That & Cooking With LSP

 

So what's it like in LSPland? all three of you ask with bated breath. Well I'll tell you. It used to be all about horses, guns and fishing but now it's mostly about driving between the Compound and Fort Hood Cavasos on account of an indigent soldier's broken truck.

This, bizarrely, ended up  in a guerrilla shop in between Millford and Italy where cash was king. And, to be fair, they did the work for a good price and the kid's Chevy is back on the road. Right on. Millford, readers, used to look like this:

Now it looks like this:

Well done, asset strippers, you've created a wasteland where we should have flourishing small country towns. Still, there's a Tesla Tower nearby so who knows what tomorrow brings. Good question, for us today's brought venison sausage pasta.

It's an incredibly complex recipe. Shoot a deer or get someone to shoot it for you. Turn the meat into sausage. Slice the sausages up into 1" chunks, brown them with onion, garlic and olive oil. Add diced tomato, I use Roma because cheap. Behold your culinary expertise and have a glass of cold wine, it's hot as Hades and you deserve it.

Then season your cheerfully simmering sauce with ground black pepper, iodized salt, basil, chili powder and a couple of bay leaves. I use Mex come-in-a-plastic-bag variety because, again, cheap and just as good. No rule, feel free to pay more for your bay leaves, your call.

Then, after an hour or so, when the hearty sauce has simmered down and its oil's begun to separate, fire up a large pan of salted water and cook up a pack of spaghetti. Serve the venison over the pasta with freshly grated parmesan and fall upon your scoff...

Like Warriors,

LSP

ESCHATON

 

Thunder and lightning SMASH down upon this small asset-stripped Texan farming community, shaking the ancient wooden timbers (what?) of the Compound. Like no kidding, a ferocious storm, turning night into day with all the fury of an electric universe.

Yes indeed, the climate's changed with elemental, eschatological fury. And so we stand, undaunted, on the rain lashed porch, daring our adversary to do its worst. 

Seriously, this storm's pretty crazy, be safe out there.

Apocalypse,

LSP

Uplifting

 

What uplifting worship this morning. The Word of God heard and preached, the Sacrament of the Altar administered and there we were, the local instance of the Mystical Body of Christ in rural Texas. No small thing.

You know, if any of you had told me a couple of decades ago that I'd be ministering out in the missions here in Hill and Bosque counties I'd have laughed. "What do you mean? Neither church has an 8' stone altar and where's all the polychrome?" Well, the joke would've been on me and God's been kind.

up your game, LSP

Speaking of which, many people are asking, "Where can we buy food and drink now that everything's gone full CorpCom Satan Rainbow?" Problem. Luckily Mission #2 has come up with a solution. Every Sunday the people bring food which they've grown and you can take what you want or need.

I tell you, it's like a small farmers' market, with fresh greens, beans, cucumbers, squash, eggs and more, and none of it's cursed by the wretched stamp of gaily hued degeneracy. Result, gotta get back to the garden.

In related news, infamous trans activist Scots goblin Nicola Sturgeon's been arrested. Allegedly the despised dwarven malfeasant was up to some kind of fiscal skulduggery. She's been released, annoyingly.

Cheers,

LSP

Lent Begins

 

Sometimes Lent comes on with a vengeance, it has this year. I'd no sooner returned to the rural idyll that is this small Texan farming community than texts, calls and emails began to flood the ether. Why? Because of several unexpected deaths at Mission #1.

So LSPland's been all about Requiem Masses, which is perhaps fitting. "Remember O man that thou art dust and to dust thou shall return," says the priest as he imposes ashen crosses on the foreheads of penitents on Ash Wednesday. 

A stark reminder of our mortality for sure but also a badge of victory, in Christ crucified life triumphs over death. And with that, may the souls of the faithful departed rest in peace and rise in glory.

With every blessing from the NCTEZ (North Central Texas Exclusion Zone) for a holy Lent,

LSP

Shrines on New Years Eve

 

After reading LL's reflection on Guan Gong, it struck me that 1: I do not have a shrine or even a statue of the Chinese God of War but 2: I do have a shrine. It's just above my desk, aka "kitchen counter" and consists of a flag, crucifix and an Our Lady of Walsingham prayer card.

Not very warlike perhaps but appropriate for a padre, I think. That said, pistols, kukris, assorted bay'nets and knives have been known to find their way onto the multifunctional worksurface of the office, ahem, kitchen.

Dog

Speaking of which, many clergy keep something called "office hours." Off they drive to their churches, sit at a desk from 9-5 and then go home to their place in the suburbs. Almost as though they've taken "middle management" as some kind of beastly model or paradigm for ministry.

Never done such a thing, with one notable exception I've always lived next to the church. On the job which isn't a job but a way of life. That this has been in rural Texas for over a decade is providential, God has been very kind.

Just some trucks

This in mind, may He give us all every blessing from the beyond reckoning abundance of His grace in the coming year. More on that later, in the meanwhile, happy, almost, New Year. And pray for the repose of the soul of Benedict XVI, an exemplary servant of God.

Your Old Pal,

LSP

Good Church

 

What good church this morning. That is all,

LSP

LSP - All Talk No Action?

So Where's The Action Buddy?

Yeah, so what about the new rig and the lever gun, so-called "LSP," if that's your real name, which we doubt. 

Good question, and right about now the readers of this popular if lighthearted mind blog are wondering if it's all talk and no action. Sure, you talk the talk, "LSP," but where's the walk?

Where's the fishing, the guns, the horses, where's all of that? Where's the country life we don't pay good money to see played out in real time, straight from a rural haven deep in the heart of Texas? Where is it? I'll tell you.

Shaolin Glory Brexit

First off, unexpected evolution with a returning son; there goes the rig and the gun. Secondly, recovering from being kicked off the back of an Arab, who btw self-identifies as a woman, and being tended to by a dog and a recruit. 

Will the leg heal in time to see the kid off to Basic? To find out I hopped and climbed into the rig and drove to Walmart. Guess what? No problem, couldn't have done it a week ago. So there is movement and this, philosophers, signifies life. Which in this instance is made up of small triumphs.

In other news, the European Union's setting up an Army! The world trembles at the dread step of the rainbow phalanx. Who knows, perhaps the enemy'll die laughing.

Advance to contact,

LSP 

Rural Rebound?

Anyone who's driven through upstate New York, Montana or the corridor of asset-stripped destruction that is the Dallas/Waco thoroughfare will know that all's not well with rural America. Hillsboro, Texas is a case in point.

Once 20,000 strong, this town's lucky to muster 8k today and all because our friends in the NWO, Illuminati elite shipped cotton away to India in a frenzy of bottom line bully profiteering. So, no jobs in the rural haven? Move to Dallas or Waco, and off they went. Then what.

Dallas becomes a congested nightmare and housing prices go through the roof such that only our socialist millionaire globalist overlords can live above the common horde, or can they? Not really. The roads are awful, you're surrounded by the common people you hate and despise, and everything's appalling. 

I know, it's all calm and soothing at the horrific neo-tudor monstrosity you call a "club" and pay 20++ grand a year for the privilege of using, but then you have to get on the tollway and reality sets in in. 

Despite all your cash you're living in some kind of bad, low class dream. I mean, really. What's the point of all that loot when you have to share the traffic jam with all the proles you hate?

Solution. Move to the country. Housing's stupidly cheap, you can work from home, insofar as you do work, and the standard of life's so much higher. 

Hey presto, Das Kapital's injected into what's left of the community your crew helped to destroy and once rural ghetto becomes mighty fancy.

And that's not bad, these country towns need cash. But here's the thing, where will all your servants stay, seeing as they won't be able to afford to live in the towns you've colonized; in house?

For what it's worth, I predict unrest.

LSP

Time And Eternity

As I drove through the country lanes of bucolic Texas, I reflected on time and eternity. God, unless you're a panentheist, a process theologian or some other similar scoundrel, is eternal. He is simple, immutable, in pure act, and all times are present to Him in a simultaneity. 

Here's Jacques Maritain, the great French Thomist, on the subject.

“GOD'S PLAN is eternal, as is the creative act itself, though it has its effect in time. God’s plan is established from all eternity. But eternity is not a kind of divine time which precedes time. It is a limitless instant which indivisibly embraces the whole succession of time. All the moments of that succession are physically present on it. If all things are naked and open to the eyes of God it is because they are seen by His divine “science of vision” in their presentness. “To foresee” is an improper word to use when speaking of God. We employ it because we project into His eternity the anteriority (in relation to future events) of the knowledge which we would have of those events if we knew them before they happened. They are known to Him “already,” which is to say, always. He sees them as actually taking place at a given temporal instant which is present in His eternity. All things and all events in nature are known to Him at their first coming forth and in the eternal morning of His vision, because they are willed by Him, beyond all time, in the eternal instant with which their whole succession coexists."

 This is Typical

But what about free will?

“But when we deal with the world of freedom, and not only with that of nature, when we deal with free existents, creatures endowed with freedom of choice (a freedom inevitably fallible), we must go still farther. We must say that in a certain fashion those creatures have their part in the very establishment of the eternal plan, not, indeed, by virtue of their power to act (here all they have they hold of God) but by virtue of their power to nihilate* to make the thing that is nothing, where they themselves are first causes. Free existents have their part in the establishment of God’s plan, because in establishing that plan, He takes account of their initiatives of nihilating."

So, from all eternity, in the timeless present instant of God's necessary knowledge, Sean Penn's decision to be an enemy of mankind is just that, Sean Penn's decision.

Enemy Of Mankind

Present knowledge of a contingent event doesn't make it any the less contingent, readers, all four of you.

Build the Wall,

LSP

Get On Parade!

This small farming community starts of Independence Day celebrations with a parade. 

The town turns out early to watch floats, horse buggies, ATVs, golf carts, tractors, game wardens, police, fire department and more. And lucky children get to pick up candy and popsicles thrown from the passing vehicles. Everyone's happy.

That's because everyone loves a parade and, in a perfect LSP world, the local militia would have marched along to the sound of drums, pipes and brass. Or, come to think of it, a squadron of cavalry would've been even better. As it was, there were a couple of riders on well turned out horses. 

A great result and small expression of something very American and good. Not that Blue Defender understood what was going on; I had to lock him inside the Compound where he growled at the passing "threats." Well done, fur-head.

Then the parade had passed and people went off to their homes to grill out and enjoy their freedom from the tyranny of England. And that's what I'll be doing, firing up the Weber and getting down to the serious business of hamburgers with the young 'un.

Have a great 4th!

LSP