Halloween

Contrary to popular opinion, tonight isn't Satan's birthday, it's the Eve of All Saints, or "Hallows". I pray they intercede for us all.

Reports that The Episcopal Church is run by a gang of devil clowns are entirely without substance.

Cheers,

LSP

SS Simon & Jude

wake up and open the church, LSP

It's the Feast of Saints Simon and Jude today and I celebrated Mass at a church in Dallas at the old school time of 6.45 a.m. I do this every Friday so the resident priest can have a "day off." It's an impressive set up and makes for a good break from the country - the place always reminds me of the Army, for some reason.

But regardless, the books assure us that we don't know very much about Simon and Jude, except that they were Apostles who found martyrdom in Persia. There's plenty of that going on right about now.

Yusuf Nadarkhani

You might say a prayer for the Iranian Christians, especially those who convert from The Religion of Peace. 

God bless,

LSP

Here's That Song In Full

more weaving

Some of you may have enjoyed the brief excerpt from "Weave us Together" by singer songwriter Rosemary Crow. It's a favorite at The Episcopal Church's (TEC) Executive Council and other gatherings of Pod People. Here it is in full.

Weave, weave, weave us to-geth-er,
Weave us to-geth-er in u-ni-ty and love,
Weave, weave, weave us to-geth-er,
Weave us to-geth-er, to-geth-er in love.

pod person

We are man-y tex-tures, we are man-y col-ors,
Each one dif-f’rent from the oth-ers.
But we are en-twined with one a-noth-er
In one great tap-es-try….

Weave, weave, weave us to-geth-er,
Weave us to-geth-er in u-ni-ty and love,
Weave, weave, weave us to-geth-er,
Weave us to-geth-er, to-geth-er in love.

We are dif-f’rent in-stru-ments, play-ing our own mel-o-dies,
Each one tun-ing to a dif-f’rent key.
But we are all play-ing in har-mon-y
In one great sym-pho-ny….

Weave, weave, weave us to-geth-er,
Weave us to-geth-er in u-ni-ty and love,
Weave, weave, weave us to-geth-er,
Weave us to-geth-er, to-geth-er in love.
A mo-ment a-go, still we did not know
Our u-ni-ty, on-ly di-ver-si-ty.
Now the Christ in me greets the Christ in thee

In one great fam-i-ly….

What can I say? Bask in the genius. In the meanwhile, TEC continues its headlong slide into oblivion.

Ubuntu,

LSP

Invasion Of The Pod People

The Episcopal Church's (TEC) Executive Council released a statement this afternoon, which included the following:

"We are living into a new season of weaving our threads of interdependence together in the spirit of ubuntu – you in me and I in you, the theme of our last General Convention."

weavers

TEC's communique was punctuated by lyrics from the "Weave Song" by Rosemary Crow, previously famous for her song "You Can Be a Heretic, Too." Weave goes like this:

Weave, weave, weave . . .
Weave us together in unity and love.

We are many textures, we are many colors,
. . . we are entwined in one another in one great tapestry

We are different instruments playing our own melodies. . .
But we are all playing in harmony in one great symphony.

Weave, weave, weave...

What does it mean?

ascend the pod

I'd say that was obvious. The Pod People have landed.

According to latest statistics TEC lost around 2000 members a month from 2009 - 2010. Perhaps the off-world weaving wisdom of the Pod will reverse this interesting trend.

God bless,

LSP

The Cotton's Gone

William

I walked the few minutes into town this morning to go to the Post Office and met William; he's 71 and does a bit of "scrapping" though he used to work on the cotton back when that was the industry of the county. He told me how the sound of the cotton press filled the air, but that was some time ago.

County Seat

Now the cotton's gone and the town's declined from a population of 20,000 to less than 8,000. That trend looks set to continue as there aren't any jobs; a concerted attempt to turn the place into an antiques and gift shop emporium failed miserably. Fine by me.

Once a bank, now a failed gift shop

At the turn of the last century things were different, with the Square being notorious for cockfighting, drunkenness and lewd behavior of all kinds.

Bad behavior gone

I understand that things were cleaned up by the '30s. Now there doesn't seem to be much behavior of any kind, which is a shame. I'd like to see a pub, butcher, tack shop, gun shop, and a place to drink coffee and buy books.

Why cut down the trees?

Surely that's not asking for too much? As it is, Hillsboro's starting to get that deserted "turning into a ghost town" feel. Surely it doesn't have to be that way.

On a different theme, there was big commotion in my neighbor's chicken coop. I thought it was a cat until a great hawk glided up and over the fence. Wish I'd taken a picture.

It seems to me as though the place is reverting to nature and maybe that's no bad thing. Neither should it be an obstacle to getting a pub...

Cheers,

LSP

Amazonian Guard - Update

Despite being friends with just about everyone, The Colonel is now dead, after being pulled out of a sewer and shot. 

Here's some of The Colonel's friends.

But the question is, what happened to his elite female fighting force, the famous Amazonian Guard?

Some speculated that they would die to the last woman, like fanatical "last-ditch Nazis" and that special Navy SEAL commandos would be tasked to take them out. That wasn't necessary.

It seems the Amazons mostly melted away, though some fought and others were taken prisoner. According to the Daily Mirror several of them were forced to do the unspeakable with The Colonel, his sons and various henchmen. 

They're gone now, and so is their Leader.

I guess that's progress.

LSP

New Pastures

God bless Texas

After our 18 mile Trek - don't take it lightly - JB's now fairly well at home in her new pasture. We rode out today, Western style. I like that because it makes for a safer seat on an unpredictable horse. For example, JB could be going along at a steady trot, then she picks up a fast canter or a hand gallop. Fine, you think, all going well. But then she stops dead in her tracks and surges forward in a new direction, all of her own making. Ducking out, or something like that. If you're riding English the danger is that you'll go "over the handle bars" when the horse stops. You're going forward, she's not. With a Western saddle your forward momentum is stopped by the pommel. Shouldn't be necessary, I know, but better safe than sorry.

I'll go as fast as you like

With that in mind, we had a good ride, after some bronc, kick an offending dog out of the way adventure.  In other news, everyone knows that The Colonel is now dead, shot on the hood (?) of a pickup.

Amazonian Guard - Excelsior.

But, but, wasn't he our friend?

Stay on the horse.

LSP

Well that didn't take long...

where's the laptop?

Thieves and hustlers are having a field day at New York's Zuccotti Park, ripping-off expensive Mac computers, donations and even pillaging the makeshift freak encampment for beds and umbrellas while unsuspecting hippies doze.


“I had my Mac stolen -- that was like $5,500. Every night, something else is gone. Last night, our entire [kitchen] budget for the day was stolen. I had umbrellas stolen, a fold-up bed I brought because my back is bad -- they took that, too! The worst thing is there’s people sleeping in the kitchen when they come, and they don’t even know about it! There are some really smart and sneaky thieves here," said Nan Terrie to the New York Post.

dozing hippies

That's strange. Thieves and hippies? Together? Surely not.

And what's an anti-corporate greed protester doing with a five and a half thousand dollar computer anyway. Maybe Macs are somehow "against the man." Don't get me wrong, I'm not some kind of apologist for Mammon but if you go down to the park tonight...

Keep your valuables locked up.

LSP

Front Office Rodeo

Not that you'd know it from browsing through this "site" but Lonestarparsonism does involve some work. There's the pastoralia that any clergyman should be about and the daily affair of running two missions. I say Morning Prayer ('28 BCP) then set up on the front porch with laptop, phone, coffee and gun. Then streams of people come by; I find that far more gets done that way than by skulking off, out of sight, at a desk. A lot of priests seem to do that and I'm not sure why. Perhaps they're scared of the people which is unfortunate, given the nature of the calling.

But it's not all about taking care of business on the front porch office. Sometimes it's about going to Waco for rodeo events.

Catch

These pictures didn't come out too well but maybe they give an idea of the speed and intensity of the thing. I enjoy the broncs and barrel racing - remarkable to watch the women run around the barrels then fly for the finish. 

Bronc

Then there's bull riding. A whole different level of dangerous and mad; there's that moment when the rider's on the ground and the bull's surging like fury. Where are the hooves going to land? Get away! Jaw dropping. 

Champion Team Ropers

Big thanks to Bud for the box tickets. Makes me want to ride Western. 

God bless,

LSP

New Hippies, Same Old story

Harmless?

It begins simply, almost harmlessly. First they find a "cause" to "stick it to the man" with love. Perhaps they draw stuff.

Fingerpainting

But not for long.

Kick that tarp!

Soon they find a park to live in, which they trash. 

It's Wall Street's fault

After a while they take their clothes off. Then it turns into this.

Undead

And this.

Apocalypse

Loyal Americans, you have been warned.


LSP

I Like Malone Texas

No Rent?

Now that I have a horse out by Malone I thought you might enjoy some pictures. The place was founded by Germans and is named after William Malone, President of the International Great Northern Railroad at the turn of the last century. The town owed its existence to the intersection of the of the IGN and the BVR (Brazos Valley Railroad) in 1903 and did well, in a small way. Success seems short-lived, as the town declined from  the '30s on. 279 people live there, according to the 2000 census. Read about it here.

Post Office & the Frog

I like Malone, it has a Post Office and many Saloons.

Pair O'Dice

But why the saloons? I counted the Whiskey River, Pair O'Dice, and The Frog. All of them seemed like pretty useful places but how did they get there? Maybe the Germans stopped the place going dry and held the Temperance beast in check.

Walling Owned

Why is it that Christians, of all people, would try and ban drink? Especially "Bible Christians" -- what about the Last Supper, or that awkward Miracle in Cana bit? They say, of course, that our Lord turned the water into non-alcoholic grape juice. 

Mesquite & Hickory Street

Out of loyalty to the Gospel I must find a designated driver and check out Pair O'Dice, the Whiskey and the Frog. 

Cheers,

LSP

Move the Horse

I hate trailers

My "time to move the horse" deadline fell on Monday, so we made several more attempts to load JB on the trailer, but it was no use. It was going to be a cold day in hell before she climbed aboard. That left several options; tranq the horse, ride her to her new home, or lead the beast with the help of a handy F 150. The tranquilizer route didn't seem wise and we didn't have any anyway. Riding seemed attractive, but JB wasn't used to being ridden on roads and who wants to risk being thrown under a truck hurtling down 171 as your horse bolts away to perdition. I reckoned there was an 85% chance that everything would be OK but think, that still leaves a solid 15% of not OK, with each percentile being a potential death point. That left leading her, which we did.

Maw of Hell

I walked her for the first 7 or 8 miles down dirt roads and some fairly deserted blacktop. After a bit of exhausting pulling, rearing, and acting up, she went docile. Thank goodness, probably wouldn't have made it otherwise. We picked up a German Shepherd who seemed to enjoy herding the horse. Most definitely a help.

Herding

The next 8 mile stretch, from Bynum to Malone, was along busy 171. JB didn't seem remotely spooked by the roaring trucks, which surprised me, and there it was, pickup, LSP, horse, dog, in procession down 171, in the blazing sun. At around the 13 mile point we stopped and I decided to climb onto the tailgate and lead from the truck. JB was fine with that once she got used to the idea, and trotted along at a respectable 5 or 6 mph.

None of this would have happened if you'd got on the trailer

After a pitstop at Malone's filling station, "What y'all doin'? Puttin' gas in th'horse?" "No, no, she's got plenty of that already." Har! Har! be safe." "God bless." we pushed through the last 5 miles or so to our destination. I was tired, the horse was tired, the dog was tired and the pickup moved along sedately, though I wasn't on it as JB had decided she wouldn't move unless I walked along with her. 


It was just getting dark as we arrived at the pasture, all safe and accounted for, though my sense of humour was beginning to dim. 


Moral of the story? Train your horse to load or face The Trek. It may be "character building" but... 


Cheers,


LSP