Wittgenstein, Mahler, Detroit

Farsighted readers will recall that my old friend "Red", who lives in Detroit near Wayne State, had an issue with a shotgun a couple of years back. He cranked off a few rounds in an empty house to celebrate Easter and, long story short, was let off with a warning by LE. 

Red's House

Now he's taken to listening to Mahler at the DSO and posting things like, "Mahler 3. Gonna try not to weep like a baby."

Wittgenstein Hated Mahler

Wittgenstein had this to say about Mahler.

If it is true that Mahler's music is worthless, as I believe to be the case, then the question is what I think he ought to have done with his talent. For quite obviously it took a set of very rare talents to produce this bad music. Should he have written his symphonies and then burnt them? Or should he have done violence to himself and not written them?
          Ludwig Wittgenstein, Culture and Value (67)

Detroit's population has declined from a peak of 2 million in 1950 to less than 700,000 today. Some 25% of its houses are derelict and awaiting demolition. Wild dogs roam its streets and empty highways.

I will visit the Motor City in August.

LSP

Feast of the Ascension

Today is the Feast of the Ascension, the last act in Christ's saving drama of redemption. Anglicans, at least, have mostly forgotten this Feast. That's too bad, it's important. Our Lord takes recreated humanity to heaven on this day and, at the right hand of the Father, intercedes for humanity as our great High Priest for all eternity.

Hope you all got to Mass on this Holy Day of Obligation. Whatever the case, here's a prayer.

GRANT, we beseech thee, Almighty God, that like as we do believe thy only-begotten Son our Lord Jesus Christ to have ascended into the heavens; so we may also in heart and mind thither ascend, and with him continually dwell, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Ghost, one God, world without end.Amen.

God bless,

LSP

Just Making a Knife

When not working feverishly to meet an urgent go-to-press deadline, I've been rather busy polishing a piece of horn. I feel the exotic horn will become two things, a knife and a bottle opener. "But how can that be, LSP?" you ask with a note of wonder. Simple. After finishing the horn with a small rasp and ever decreasing grit sandpaper, I'll cut the thing, leaving a hand-sized knife grip and a longer bottle opener section. 

Some dancing priestess goofing-off in England

I'll then bed a knife blade into the handle with epoxy and perhaps drive two rivets through handle and tine to make the blade secure. The end of a brass 20 Gauge shotgun shell should work to close off the open  butt. A similar process will sort out the bottle opener. I'm excited by this. Stay tuned.

Jesus said "no priestesses."

On a different note, random church people brought evening gifts after I'd said Mass and taught a class on John 17 -- a bottle of red wine and some cherry crumble. I ate the one and saved the other. Thanks, team.

God bless,

LSP

Church of England Dioceses Go For Gold!

Church of England traditionalists were routed last week, with all of the shrinking denomination's dioceses voting in favor of legislation to make women bishops. The women bishops Measure will now go to the member-short Church's General Synod for final approval in July. Maybe, then, 2000 years of patriarchal oppression will be broken and England will experience a new dawn of faith as the people of the Sceptered Isle flock back to church to see women bishops. That's the way it's been in America.

Jane "Old Jowly" Dixon

We've had Jane Dixon.

Barbara Harris with some old woman

Barbara Harris.

Nice

Mary Glasspool.

Top Dog

And Jefferts Schori.

The Episcopal Church, which bravely pioneered women bishops, is losing an average 50,000 members a year.

Good luck, CofE.

LSP

Solstice in Austin

Some time ago I set LL a challenge; write a short about hippies and Austin, I suggested. "If you can work in the Hog Farm, the Whole Earth Catalogue, and their repellent Clown, I'll be impressed." Sure enough, Solstice in Austin wasn't far behind. Here's an excerpt from this dark tale of counter-cultural criminality and vice:

At times, Carlos forgot why his friend, who published The Whole Earth Catalog, sent him to Texas in the first place because the shit he’d been injecting covered everything with a narcotic haze... At first it seemed like a good idea to escape from the constant pressure of selling the damned book in hippie communes. Now he didn’t seem quite as sure as he had once been—that it would be all right in the end.

The girl, Cindy or Candy, or maybe her name was something different, asked him about their destination. He told her that the Solstice party in Austin could not be missed.

You can read the whole thing here, but be warned, it's a little graphic.

 

If you meet the Hippy on the road, kill it. Or, if you'd rather, donate your gun to Greenpeace and watch it turn into a rainbow.

Cheers,

LSP

Memorial Day

Here's a prayer for the day:

Almighty God, our heavenly Father, in whose hands are the living and the dead: We give thee thanks for all thy servants who have laid down their lives in the service of our country. Grant to them thy mercy and the light of thy presence; and give us such a lively sense of thy righteous will, that the work which thou hast begun in them may be perfected; through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord. Amen.

God bless,

LSP 

Hunt Safari Style, in Texas

It was the final full day of The Dream and we had a several objectives, Viz. Shoot large hogs, a friend to shoot his first Auodad, and for everyone to catch fish. We were partly successful.

Just Where Are The Pigs?

Our shooting party drove out at first light(ish) to find the ancient enemy, Tuskers. Sure enough, we did. There they were! On a far away hill, maybe 800 yards off. Everyone dismounted and moved forward, chambering rounds and glassing the distant hogs. A long shot for sure, and we were hoping for closer contact, so we moved on, guns at the ready and adrenaline flowing. Nothing. 

Maybe The Pigs Are Here

Philisophically inclined GWB decided to take a shot... missed, and the pigs ran. Never to be seen again. Still, fair play to the shooter, off-hand 600-800 yard shots aren't the easiest of things, even if your target is a massive, predatory porcuswine.

Fish

Fresh from the pigs, the team got down to fishing and did alright, 5 Bass (I think) and some Sunfish. Lots of fun and a fried chicken lunch came in tasty too. Then, after a refreshing cold one by the pool, remember, this is the Dream, it was time to hunt North African mountain goats.

Oryx

We set off in search of one or more of the several herds. Spotted! Dismount, chamber a round, safety on, stalk. We got close, but they ran; time to drive on. After several false starts we found a couple of stragglers, mixed in with a small gang of Oryx. Now, it was near dusk and probably the last opportunity for our friend, CB, to get his kill. If he wanted the goat he had to take this shot, but it was a challenge because the animal was mixed in with the exotic Oryx and we weren't able to shot them. A challenge shot, for sure. CB decided to take it.

Good Shot, CB

We got into position, moving stealthily with the wind through the brush and as close to the animals as possible, to within about 80 yards. CB hunkered down, rested my Lee Enfield sporter on some sticks and scoped out the goat. Minutes passed. Then the Oryx parted, and the shot was clear. Cross hairs on, breathe, squeeze the trigger, shoot! The goat went down, shot by CB (well done) and the mighty .303 Brit.

Random Truck Gun

We finished off with war stories around the lodge's outdoor fire. The larger logs, and they were large, were named after ships, HMS Nelson for example, or politics, Old Tory etc. GWB shot a bobcat across the river with the .303. Project gun? Vindicated.

Old Tory

But I won't bang on. A more than good time was had by all. Huge thanks to MM for the party and congrats to CB and DV on their shots. Excellent result.

God bless,

LSP

Living The Dream

A big part of Living The Dream is seeing a friend's two young sons take home their first rabbits, learn to clean them on the tailgate and, later that night, eat them. Well done, boys! 

I Shot This Rabbit!

Another aspect of the Dream is watching GWB prep just shot hog legs as you and the team relax under the stars with a glass or two of the right stuff and swap stories of the mighty hunt(s).

Hog Prep

Rumours that The Dream entails fast night drives through the brush with semi-autos and spotlights are totally without foundation, as is:

Team Member: "There's one! I can see its eyes. What should I do?"

LSP: "Shoot it."

Team Member: "I can't do that! It's eating."

LSP: "Maybe you'll donate your gun to Greenpeace and they'll turn it into a rainbow."

The Old LSP

Tomorrow promises more mighty ballistics hi-power, hopefully some "spot and stalk" and Bass fishing. Nothing wrong with that. At all. 

Cheers,

LSP

Owl Guide

I headed south after Mass on Sunday with a truckload of guns and a simple mission; meet up with the team at a friend's ranch and Live The Dream.

Just Livin' The Dream

"So just what is this 'dream', so-called LSP," I hear you ask, testily. Well I'll tell you this, it involves hunting, fishing, some shooting and also, apparently, owls. I'll explain. On day one of the adventure, we clambered up some bluffs to look at pictographs; it's a spectral thing, a scene that's barely changed in maybe several thousand years. Who was the person that drew on the rock, and why? We don't know, but we did discover this.

The Shaman

If you edge around the side of the cliff, slow and careful, you'll find a nest of owls. I looked at them and they looked at me, eyes aglow and round. They're fierce though; one of them swooped down on GWB, hissing like an offended cliff spirit.

The Owls

I glassed a herd of exotics at around 75 yards from the top of a ravine later that day, but didn't shoot. I'm saving that for another day.

So far the score (not by me, grrr) is 6 hogs, 3 rabbits, 6(+?) Bass. More on that as the adventure unfolds.

God bless,

LSP

War Droid!

Far-sighted readers will recall that the U.S. deployed two state-of-the-art war droids to eastern Europe's troubled Ukraine, Senator John Kerry, affectionately known to its controllers as "Wooden Top", and Joe Biden, call sign Teeth. 

Teeth, What a Disaster

The replicants were tasked with a simple mission; stop, at all costs, the eastern region of the Ukraine from declaring independence and joining Russia. Now, following Wooden Top's dismal failure and Teeth's humorous at best underperformance, the U.S. has deployed a third battle-bot.

"Hunter" Biden, classified as Teeth Mk II, has joined the Board of Directors at Burisma Holdings, the Ukraine's largest private gas supplier.

Immoral Biden Class War Droid

Meanwhile, the U.S. military is spending over $7 million on a groundbreaking new program to develop moral robot AIs. According to Gizmodo:

Over the next five years, the Office of Naval Research is awarding $7.5 million in grant money for university researchers to build a robot that knows right from wrong.

A Fighting Monkey

As you know, I'm not a betting man, but I'll wager my fighting monkey against any four of your priestesses that the Office of Naval Research (ONR) will go over budget on this particular venture.

Good luck, ONR.

LSP

Ozymandias

By popular demand, I'm posting Ozymandias, which is a poem by Shelley. Shelley was aristocratic, so is Justin Welby, the Lord Archbishop of Canterbury, sort of.

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away from Welby.

But I'm well-pleased at the performance of my sporter Lee Enfield, which I checked at the range today, prior to a hunting party somewhere in Texas next week. Easier to shoot than the Remington 700 but less substantial.

A Couple of Guns

Shoot on and God bless,

LSP 

Slumberjack Rifle Case

Being a cheapskate, I hadn't bought a new case for my Remington 700, so it's a very good thing that my old pal, the Suburban Bushwacker, persuaded the folks at Slumberjack (SJK) to send me their Rifle Hauler Mat (RHM) to review.

Where's That Rifle Case?!?

Slumberjack makes outdoor gear and now, as we approach the anniversary of World War I, they've teamed up with Kryptek to produce Tactical Hunting Gear. Kryptek make cutting-edge camo solutions and the RHM is faced with the Kryptek Highlander pattern. Women like Kryptek Highlander and who can blame them, it's pretty cool.

A Typical Kryptek Woman, Out Hunting

So what's the RHM like? It's appx. 43" long and 11" wide, comfortably padded, with an internal pocket that could hold a small prayer book, a little Reliquary and a miniature Altar Stone, or whatever. It's held together by adjustable, sturdy, nylon webbing and it's camouflaged in Highlander, by Kryptek. This makes it well-nigh invisible.

Maybe an AR 10 Would Fit Better In Here

Do I like it? Sure, a lot. Can I find it if I put it down somewhere? Definitely, provided I put a GPS tracker on it. Is it well made? Well enough. Does it have a shoulder strap? No, it doesn't. Does it have external pockets or pouches? It does not. 

Friendly Old LSP

Does it fit the Remington 700? Oh yes. Would you recommend it to a friend? To a friend who likes Kryptek Highlander camo, yes I would. Is it tactical? I won't answer that question. 

Slumberjack

The Slumberjack RHM costs $84.95; it's a decent case for the money and I'm glad I have one. Thanks, SBW and SJK, for sorting me out. Should you get one? For sure, if you like Kryptek.

LSP