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

Fixed The Rig

After dropping the Cadet (potential) at school, I dropped off the rig at the Brazen Pineapple, known colloquially as Gene's Auto Body. Then I walked home, because I didn't have a vehicle and didn't care to ask for a "loaner."

It still seems odd after growing up in England to see dirt roads within city limits but I like that, it's Centex Country, right along with the grain bins, sorry, bins not in the frame.

So are shacks, which are somehow less bucolic than the dirt roads and grain silos of this small slice of rural Texan paradise. Imagine, there you are in your shack, it's triple digits and the food stamps have just run out because you've swapped them out for meth. Not so pastoral idyll.

Still, the town's getting fixed up, with new shops on the Square and attractive older houses being renovated and sold. Who to? People from Dallas, I'd imagine, who can't afford the 500k+ price tag of living in the appalling and soul-destroying metrosprawl.

I thought all this and more as I strolled down the leafy boulevards of my quaint farming community and pondered the transnational, satanic, globalist elites that destroyed this town to make themselves even richer. Where will it end? 

Pitchforks and Nooses down the Mall? Maybe. More likely a gradual breakdown of central government which, ironically, runs out of cash.

Of course we've seen it all before. Cast your minds back to Rome which, at its peak, was a city of over a million people. Then picture that same city in the 7th century AD, perhaps viewed from the Palatine Hill and the just at that point intact palace of the Caesars. What do you see?

A sea of ruins stretching out to the horizon, broken by still-standing monumental architecture, such as the Pantheon and Coliseum. Below you lies the broken Hippodrome with its ghosts of long dead crowds. Rome at this point maybe musters 20,000 souls.

This Texan town was 20,000 strong 50 years ago, now it's 7,000 if it's lucky. 

Draw the moral as you will.

Quo Vadis,

LSP