Take a Bath, Hippie

At least that's what the horses say, and who can blame them? I rode out on Tres this morning after a week's break, caused by torrential rains and the horses being let loose to pasture in Texas' idyllic Mesquite Groves.

There was a little bit of rodeo (bucking) but nothing too radical. That was worked out by galloping up and down a hill and making our way through trails in the woods.

It was beautiful to ride in the clean, crisp, air and I went back to HQ refreshed and uplifted. Blue Destroyer, in the meanwhile, had chewed up an issue of American Rifleman. And some butter.

I wasn't too happy about that.

LSP

Carve The Pumpkin With a Gun

Here's Hickok45, getting the world ready for Halloween, and now I want a lever gun. Make that several.

Gun rights,

LSP

Hillary Clinton's Lovers

Who are Hillary's lovers and why isn't the media covering this exciting story of lust and intrigue from inside-the-beltway, asked Matt Drudge not so long ago.

Well, we know at least one. That would be Yoko Ono, the atonal, onetime wife of John Lennon, King of the Hippies.

Yoko Ono, What a Great Singer

This is what Yoko says (tip of the kukri to LL):

“We met many times during the New York Vietnam War protests in the 1970s, and became very intimate. We shared many of the same values about sexual equality, fighting against the authoritarian, patriarchal, male-dominated society we were raised in. 

“We had a brief romantic fling when I lived with John in Manhattan and Hillary was studying at Yale, but eventually we lost touch. I am amazed how things are going well for her and wish her the best for her campaign.”

Hillary hasn't commented on her old lover's outing, and neither has Huma Abedin. 

Your old pal,

LSP

Episcopal Church Bishop Heather Cook Goes To Jail

The former Episcopalian Assistant Bishop of Maryland, Heather Cook, has been sentenced to 7 years in jail by a Baltimore Court today, for killing a cyclist shortly after Christmas this year.

Cook had nearly three times the legal level of alcohol in her bloodstream when she drove into Michael Palermo, killing the 41 year old cyclist and father of two. 

The bishop, who had been texting at the time of the crash, drove away from the scene of the crime, but later returned after being followed by a suspicious cyclist. She was subsequently forced to resign from her position and released from prison on $2.5 million bail.

Cover Up

The ex-bishop pleaded guilty to automobile manslaughter last month and has a history of alcohol and narcotics use, which came to light in 2010 when she was arrested for DUI, possession of marijauna and drug paraphernalia. This was allegedly known by top church authorities but not disclosed to the Diocese of Baltimore.

Prosecutors had wanted a 10 year sentence for Cook, but her attorney argued for less, claiming that the once senior clergyperson had lived a mostly "model life."

You can read all about the case of the drunken Cook in the Baltimore Sun. And we have to ask, if the Episcopal Church's leader, Katharine Jefferts Schori, knew about Cook's history of driving while drunk and stoned, why was nothing said to the people responsible for electing her as a bishop?

Surely Michael Palermo's family deserve an answer.

LSP

The Curse of the Diocese of Gloucester

The Diocese of Gloucester labours under an ancient curse, a curse that some say goes back to Gloucester cathedral's ill-fated Dean, William Laud, in the seventeenth century. However, though centuries old, the curse is apparently active today and seems to be claiming a new victim, bishop figure Rachel Treweek.

About to be installed as a member of England's ruling elite aristocracy in the House of Lords, Treweek told the public that she no longer prays to God as "he," although she sometimes forgets.

According to the UK's Guardian, "She personally prefers to say neither 'he' nor 'she', but 'God'. 'Sometimes I lapse, but I try not to.'"

Well that's great. Mawkish forgetfulness aside, God is a perfect spirit and therefore beyond gender; like time itself, God transcends it. But here's the thing, Christianity believes that this transcendent Being, the perfect, necessary source of all being, is revealed in masculine terms. 

Jesus, the eternal Word made Flesh, is notoriously a man, who teaches his followers to pray to God as Father. The Church, for St. Paul, echoing the Old Testament, is the Bride of Christ. 

Mary Domus Aurea

In brief, God, for Christians, reveals himself in masculine terms. Take it or leave it, hate it or love it, that's Christianity.

Welcome to Goof Squad

Rachel, who has been promoted to one of the declining Church of England's top jobs, albeit cursed, has chosen to leave it, at least as far as God's revelation of himself is concerned. Where does this leave her?

Note Killing Rod Through Backs of Children

Hint, not praying to the being revealed by Christ as Father. And remember, it's all a larf until the horned god claims its own.

LSP

Closing Day Mojo

I'll be honest, after driving around the country to say Mass and then to Waco to visit the sick in hospital, I wasn't too keen on going dove hunting.

But my philisophical pal, GWB, tipped up looking for action, so off we went to catch the last two hours of dove season.

The clouds were grey and threatening and a chill wind blew over the waterlogged fields. It felt like Yorkshire, in June, and I wished I'd worn Wellingtons as I walked the treelines, hoping for a bird or two to rocket overhead.

Old Skool Lancruiser

They didn't, but that was alright, it was simply good to be out in the field, shotgun in hand. Armed walkabout over, I joined GWB at the decoys and waited. Soon enough, a couple of feathered predators were lured in by the Mojo and flew towards the setting sun. An easy shot, one went down.

Then a couple of squadrons came in fast, heading west; shoot, pump, and shoot again! I missed, but GWB brought one down with a snap-shot from his 20 gauge O/U Franchi Instinct. 

Dove cleaned, it was back to the Compound for poppers. Fortunately, someone had the good sense to bring along a quorum of previously shot birds from an earlier hunt. The tasty morsels found their way to the grill and feasting commenced.

And that was closing day.

God bless,

LSP

Real Woman, Fake Woman

One of these famous people is a woman, the other isn't. But which one is which?

The Duchess of Cambridge?

Or Trans Jenner?

You, the reader, be the judge.

LSP

Church BBQ

We had a church BBQ today at a member's lake house, so I called up and asked if I should bring anything. Our conversation went like this.

"Hey, should I bring anything, apart from The Weather?"

"Yeah, you really messed up on that score. Thanks for the rain."

"Don't blame me, blame Obama, he's our Commander-in-Chief. Maybe I should bring a gun."

"We have plenty of those already, bring some tea."

So that's what I did.

A good time was had by all, despite recent setbacks in the War on Weather.

Sail away,

LSP

The Witch Wants What's Best For You

Just kidding! This actor wants what's best for herself, i.e. moar power. Will she get it? Good question and I guess that depends on whether people want to vote for a person who helped supply Al Qaeda with arms and blamed an Ambassador's death on a video.

Then there's the secret server and the magically erased 30,000 emails. Nothing to hide there, move along, vote for Hillary.

In the meanwhile, Mexico is being struck by the biggest hurricane ever, and Texas is besieged by the weather.

Is Hillary behind this? Is she a Weather Witch? Or just another inside-the-beltway Illuminati shill for the New World Order.

Or both,

LSP

Stormfront!

It's raining, and thunder booms out like Russian guns on the Aleppo front. There's lightning, too; we may thank God that it's not cluster munitions breaking over the Compound. So far our common adversary, The Weather, hasn't deployed the full range of its deadly arsenal. 

But we stand ready, cleaning weapons, loading magazines, tightening kit and idly sticking pins in Jefferts Schori dolls. 

Voodoo? That's as maybe. Stand resolute against the enemy.

Rumors that this irregular cavalry unit is investing in waterborne assault craft may or may not be true.

LSP

Rimfire Warrior

Some people use the Tracking Point aiming system, which unerringly guides your shot onto the target via technology that's well nigh indistinguishable from magic. Others use iron sights and a fixed 4 power scope. I went down the latter route today.

Note Mossberg Truck Gun

It rained this morning as I was walking the dog after Mattins. That's right, it rained, for a whole minute, maybe a few seconds more. Uplifted and refreshed, I loaded up the truck with a couple of rimfires, an old JC Higgins, 22 LR, and a Ruger American, 17 HMR. Blue Ballistics got to come along too.

No Libs On The Bench

I faced off against enemy plastic water containers and some old Marlboro Light boxes, opening up off-hand at 30, 50, 75 and 100 yards with the .22. Once I got the hold sorted out the opposition went down swiftly enough, and I won't pretend that I didn't enjoy watching the water targets exploding. Take that, water enemy.

The Ruger American .17 HMR Works

The .17 was more fun, but a greater challenge. Because of the optic, you're looking for greater accuracy and not happy unless you get it. Well maybe not. It's still awesome to see a gallon water jug sail into the air after being hit by the superfast, if supertiny, .17 HMR, regardless of shot placement.

Get In The Truck, You Savage.

But what about the dog? He loved the shooting, and barked, jumped, leaped and romped in midfield, then he found his way to the source of the joy, the shooting bench. He was relegated to the truck after that.

The Water Enemy

So what was learned? Shooting rimfire is a lot of fun, no doubt about it, and it's comparatively cheap, too. The Ruger American is also a great rifle for the price, accurate as you like and then some; I'll be getting their .22 LR wood stocked variant as soon as I've saved up the vast sum of $350.

And as always,  the song remains the same, get out and shoot.

LSP

There Were Giants in Those Days

And by giants, I mean Lancelot Blackburne, who was Archbishop of York after a spell in the West Indies as a buccaneer, or pirate.

Blackburne wasn't noted for good behavior. According to Brewer's Rogues, Villains and Eccentrics "[his] behaviour was seldom of a standard to be expected of an archbishop. In many respects his behaviour was seldom of a standard to be expected of a pirate."

He kept apartments on Downing Street.

LSP