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

Tom Wolfe, Literary Genius or Southern Fop?

I like reading Tom Wolfe's books, and what's not to like? He can write with a laser-like accuracy that's as enjoyable as it's at times disturbing, which leads some to rate him as a latter-day American Dickens or Dostoyevsky.

I'm sure Wolfe would modestly dispute such claims and with that in mind, I once asked a woman of the South if she liked the famous author.

"Mr. Wolfe," she exclaimed, "is a Southern Fop."

She may well have had a point. Here's Tom Wolfe on Hunter Thompson, who he thinks may have been the "great comic writer of the 20th century."

From Bauhaus to Our House,

LSP

I Was Hungry

I took some time off from the tireless campaign against Harvard's lesser, limolib, comsoc ally, Duke, to visit our food bank. 

The food bank feeds a lot of needy people in  our town and it used to provide some help with utility bills. That's stopped now, for the present, and food's the focus.

I used to volunteer there on a pretty regular basis but I've been slack for the last couple of years and that's going to change. After all, there's that bit in Scripture about "I was hungry and you fed me," and we ignore that at our peril.

Does that make me some sort of comsymp leftist shill for the New World Order? On the contrary, it's about charity with accountability at the local level. Let's have more of that and less Leviathan in DC, please.

The Boss of this concern is a good friend, who excitedly told me that someone "from Bynum" had shot a bobcat on his land the other day. Our conversation went like this:

"How big was it?" 

"About as big as a tailgate!"

"Whoa..."

"They used a rabbit distress call, up comes the bobcat, they shot it, then they left!"

"Hunh."

"Well, you come on out and have at it!"

"I sure will!"

And I will. You never know, I might shoot something.

My friend is a very good man and we used to shoot pistols against round bales, which was a lot of fun. He can't do that now, but I understand he still takes the odd shot from a 410 (purchased, ahem, for his wife) now and again. 

God bless,

LSP

Duke, You Lose, We Win

A Typical Day at Duke

That was quick. Duke  has cancelled its plans to broadcast the Islamic call to prayer on its libleft campus of higher dhimmitude.

Friends of Duke

On behalf of all the team here at the Compound, I'd like to thank everyone who contributed to our victory over the rich socialists at Harvard's evil little sister, Duke. But remember, this is one battle in what will assuredly be a long war.

Carry on,

LSP

We Scorn Duke

We scorn Duke. Why? You ask. Well, as a famous philosopher once said:

"It's all fun and games until you wake up and see your buddy's severed head. In your lap."

Good luck with dhimmitude, Duke.

ISIS laughs.

LSP

Episcopal Church Spirit Allies

In case you missed it, here's an excerpt from from the Presiding Shaman Bishop of the Episcopal Church's Christmas sermon, via Stand Firm.

"The altar hanging at an English Advent service was made of midnight blue, with these words across its top: “We thank you that darkness reminds us of light.” Facing all who gathered there to give thanks were images of night creatures – a large moth, an owl, a badger, and a bat – cryptic and somewhat mysterious creatures that can only be encountered in the darkness."

But what about Jesus? Good question, and here's the answer:

Jesus is among us like a flitting moth – will we notice his presence in the street-sleeper? He pierces the dark like a silent, streaking owl seeking food for hungry and defenseless nestlings. He will overturn this world’s unjust foundations like badgers undermining a crooked wall. Like the bat’s sonar, his call comes to each one uniquely – have we heard his urgent 'come and follow'?"

Moth, owl, badger, bat, sometimes you just have to bask in the brilliance. But which one's your magicke spirit ally?

I'll wager my fighting monkey against any number of your priestesses that Jefferts Schori's ally is a  Mothbat.

Feel free to disagree,

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

Je Suis Charlie Rainbow

Perhaps you noticed that the march against Jihad in Paris morphed into a rainbow pony Tolerance Parade. 

That'll have the Muslims who aren't Muslim Jihadis quaking in their boots, eh?

In the meanwhile, the President of the Rainbow Tolerance Coalition of Gayness is holding a Summit on Countering Violent Extremism. But not Muslim violent extremism, because as everyone knows, Islam is a religion of peace and tolerance and velvety unicorns.

Some, on the other hand, recommend Arc Light. Or Spectre.

But that won't be necessary because Islam is like Buddhism, or Woodstock, only a lot more peaceful.

LSP

Visit the Sick

Being an LSP isn't just about guns and going to Canada, it's also about visiting the sick. If I was more of a Mission Priest I'd probably do that in an ATV. As it is, I just use my "rig," which is a basic, ex-fleet, 2008, F150 X-cab. 

Some people get to drive Raptors and perhaps I'm a bit jealous, but I can't complain, the truck gets me there. Still, I'd like to have 4x4.

But rigs aside, I do my best to get out to the sick and housebound and I should probably do more of that. After all, there's that bit in Scripture, "I was sick and you visited me."

Part of this means going to nursing homes, or "assisted living facilities," which is what I did today. Everyone seemed happy and upbeat and a fair few were demented with it, cackling from their rooms or sitting stranded, in their wheelchairs, in the corridors.

May God bless them, the Saints intercede for them and the Angels watch over them.

If you think that's idolatry you're wrong.

LSP

Aliens on the Moon?

Startling new evidence suggests that there could be alien lifeforms, living on the moon. NASA photographs appear to show artificial structures on the surface of the dead planet, leading to speculation that it could once have been mined by extraterrestrials.

Other footage shows an abandoned two mile long spaceship, heavily pockmarked by meteorites and resting in a crater on the far side of the moon.

According to former astronaut, William Rutledge, a secret US/Russian mission to the moon investigated the alien ship in 1976 and discovered a female ET, who was possibly the pilot of the strange craft.

Rutledge described the off-world life form as neither dead nor alive. "Some parts of the body were in unusually good condition," stated the astronaut, "(hair) and the skin was protected by a thin transparent protection layer. As we told to mission control, condition seemed not dead not alive."

Others aren't so sure, claiming that the female space pilot is really an image made of clay, made by French artist Thierry Speth, and that William Rutledge doesn't exist. 

Are these spectacular images proof of ET intelligence on the moon, or just a hoax? 

The vote is out,

LSP

It's a Dog's Life

It's raining, here in Texas, and my canine ally, Blue Marmaduke, is back from his country exeat. What would he be like, I wondered, after a few weeks away from the chain of command?

Just fine, as it turns out. He's better behaved, if anything, and seems a little more obedient. Not that he was bad before. Apparently he was good around horses while I was away, though I'm not quite sure what that means.

Still, it bodes well for a cavalry mascot, as does his fearless approach to bullets and gunfire. But he has to learn that it's a mistake to try and catch the bullets. Until he has his titanium refit.

That is all.

LSP

Well That Was Fun

It felt a bit strange returning to Texas from the land of ice and snow but drive-bys notwithstanding, it was good to be back in the Lone Star State. And it was especially good to meet up with a very old friend who was passing through, to conduct some "business."

What was this business? Good question. It was something along the lines of "communications systems security and interception consultancy," or CSSIC, and it helped to be an Israeli, living in Jakarta. Obviously.

I was impressed by my pal's CSSIC expertise and hope he triumphs in the marketplace, but that aside, the years rolled back over several dinners, as we caught up on our various adventures. "What's the most important thing about a tank?" asked my friend, who had helped crew one at the end of Peace in Galilee. "Reverse gear!" The reason being, he explained, is that reverse is crucial after you've pulled over a ridge to take your shot and have to get back into cover. CSSIC had driven a Centurion, which astounded me. 

It had been updated but still, the hull of the metal monster dated from 1949 and there it had been, getting into fights in Lebanon, in the '80s.

Then he was gone and I drove back to my rural idyll in the land where cotton used to be king. I'll be picking up Blue Exocet tomorrow.

Cheers,

LSP