It's The Dyslexic Deacon!

The Dyslexic Deacon's back and he's back in force, reporting on the recent primates meeting in Canterbury. Over to you, Deacon.

Saucies closed to APB Justsin Wobbly have leaked a seekret reprot on the Naglican Conunuim. '38 Shades of Gay' reveels how conversative FAGCON prymates suckcessfully censered ACUSA (TEC) homosectual weddings at the resent cumming together in Cant A Becket. In the Indrotuction APB Justsin apollogises for the Conunium's phomohobic passed and looks forwood to censering homosectuals in the Cherch of Negland.

Thanks, Dyslexic Deacon, keep it coming!

LSP 

Saturday Ride

After my morning routine of Morning Prayer (1928 BCP), walking the dog, drinking coffee and talking with spiritual singing gentlemen of the road, I went for a ride.

It was good to get out in the country and back in the saddle, though my horse disagreed at first. Easy, girl, we're riding on, and that's just the way it is.

Rodeo bronc over, we walked, trotted, cantered and galloped through the bucolic Mesquite groves of Olde Texas. Good thing I was wearing a sturdy Carharrt! Those thorns are big. But seriously, there was room enough to open up and I enjoyed that. Gallop.

After the ride I asked myself if I'd learned anything. Maybe a bit; sit deeper in the saddle, rely more on legs than rein, work with the rhythm of the horse, not against it, use the animal's instinct to get back with the herd to your advantage. All that sort of thing; basic horsemanship skills, and there's nothing wrong with that.

More importantly, it was exhilarating to ride out fast in comparatively untamed country and get away from everything. Just you and the horse. 

There's a freedom in that.

Gun rights,

LSP

A Chance Encounter in Texas

We all get into routines, some are good, some less so. My routine is this. Say Morning Prayer from the 1928 Prayer Book, none of your newfangled rubbish, thank you very much, then take the dog for a walk and get a coffee. That's what I did today, and as I was standing outside the filling station, sipping my coffee, and enjoying the crisp, sunny Texan morning, I heard singing.

It was faint at first and sounded like a spiritual. The singing grew louder; sure enough, it was a spiritual and its source was a middle aged black man walking down the road by the 1st Baptist Church. He was wearing a Russian style hat with ear flaps and a dirty old parka, defense against the cold, I suppose.

Blue Stryker went on guard as the singing gentleman came closer and stopped,  just out of range of the leashed dog. I smiled at him and he smiled back, "Is that a cow dog?" he asked, "They're real smart dogs! I got three. Say, do you have a cigarette?" I told I did and threw him one, as he cleverly stayed out of the dog's attack zone. "Bless you, brother," he said, and went on his way, singing his spiritual. "God bless you," I replied, and meant it.

I liked that man and file this story under "country life in Texas."

Your Old Friend,

LSP

And Here's Pat!

Via ZeroHedge:

Can that crowd at Davos not understand that it is despised because it is seen as having subordinated the interests of the nations and people in whose name it presumes to speak, to advance an agenda that serves, first and foremost, its own naked self-interest?

The political and economic elites of Davos have grown rich, fat and powerful by setting aside patriotism and sacrificing their countries on the altars of globalization and a New World Order.

Pat riffs on Dougherty, rips on the transnational Davos elite and slams the attempted suicide of the West. If you think that's not planned, remember, it's all conspiracy theory until it's conspiracy fact.

Check it out.

LSP  

Hail To The Chief!

A reader sent this in. I thought I should post it.

Hail to the Chief,

LSP

The Trump Phenomenon

"What so frightens the conservative movement about Trump's success is that he reveals just how thin the support for their ideas really is. His campaign is a rebuke to their institutions. It says the Republican Party doesn't need all these think tanks, all this supposed policy expertise. It says look at these people calling themselves libertarians and conservatives, the ones in tassel-loafers and bow ties. Have they made you more free? Have their endless policy papers and studies and books conserved anything for you? These people are worthless. They are defunct. You don't need them, and you're better off without them."

I think Michael Brendan Dougherty nails it, and you can, and should, read the whole thing here. 

LSP

Progressive Christianity Will Die

The general consensus amongst the 4 people who read this so-called "mind blog" is that its authors are incapable of serious thought. To make up for that deficiency, here's an excerpt from Fr. Longenecker's 12 step takedown of proglib Christianity:

Crazed

The real divide in Christianity is no longer Protestant and Catholic, but progressive and historic.

When I say “divide” I should say “battle” because both sides are locked in an interminable and unresolvable battle. Interminable because neither side will yield and unresolvable because the divisions extend the theological and philosophical roots of both aspects.

However, it is true to look at the dynamic of progressive Christianity and see that by the end of this century it will have either died out or ceased to be Christianity.

Demented

Longenecker, a former Anglican priest, goes on to make his 12 points and they're certainly pertinent to a form, or a subversion of Christianity that's dying out. But here at the Compound we'd like to add a 13th observation.

Shifty

Why would anyone go to a church that existed to reflect disbelief back on itself? Or, to put it another way, why bother attending a church when you can more comfortably read the New York Times or The Guardian instead? Same message, far less hassle.

Sad Gay

Well guess what, Longenecker's prophecy's being fulfilled and the proglib churches are dying out. You can read their dismal stats on the internet, if you care to find them.

God bless,

LSP

It's Bushcraft Wednesday!

Bushcraft is about surviving in the wild, far away from the comforts of home and supermarket. Part of that means knowing about the creatures of the wild, both predators and prey. To that end, Team LSP is pleased to present this infovideo.

Here at the Compound, we hope you find it as helpful as we do.

Your Pal,

LSP

Ride The Horse

It was a balmy 68* in the Texan winter, as I galloped up a hill on my friend's ranch, which made me wonder if I'd made the right decision in wearing a lined denim jacket. "It's kind of warm in this coat," I cleverly informed my equestrian friend, "but you know what, it protects against thorns." And so it did, they're a hazard.

A Typical Texan Road

We rested on top of the hill and looked out over the countryside to I35, some 10 or 12 miles in the distance, with the setting sun reflecting off trucks making their way north and south along the highway. There we were in the saddle, with the sunset behind us, and there was the traffic, speeding silently towards its destination; quite a divide.

This led to a horseback discussion on the state of the country. Would there be another civil war, my friend pondered, and if so, how would it come about? Through the centrifugal forces unleashed by financial collapse, when the Debt Star decides to collect payment? Through what seems to be increasing, nationwide polarization? One thing's for sure, after 8 years of Gun Control Barack, everyone's armed to the teeth.

Several trot, canter, gallops later we were back at the barn and giving the horses some hay. They attacked it with gusto.

I love riding. Thanks, RP, for the opportunity.

Stay on the horse,

LSP

Go For Another Walk in The Woods

My philisophical pal, GWB, tipped up on Sunday night with a view towards some steaks and an armed stroll in the woods the following day. The steaks were good and so were the the woods, but just in case the latter needed pacifying, we took a small arsenal along.

GWB brought a Remington 870 because a 12 is always useful; I think it's his duck gun. I brought a Ruger American .22 and a .45. Who knows, maybe I'd have to use the pistol to get to the rifle, but even if I had to, I doubt I'd be much use with the rifle. 

Check Out The Pipe

I know this, because I fired off a couple of magazines off-hand against some steel plates, at around 50 yards, before we got to the woods and was appalled by my marksmanship, or rather lack of it. A couple of remedial afternoons at the range is definitely in order. 

Missing the target practice over, we headed into the thorny thicket of the woods, hoping for squirrels. They didn't show, but a stream did. It was tranquil, standing there looking down at the water and seeing fish glide and dart their way along the banks.

Go To The Woods

Water feature enjoyed, it was time to set up by some oaks and try to call in the bushy tailed tree dwellers. No joy, but the sound of the water moving in the near distance, and the woods coming alive in the silence, was soothing to the soul. 

Water, in Texas

At least it was for me, I'm not sure what GWB was up to. He was in a different spot, hidden in the brush, doubtless parsing John Milbank or texting some PH out of Eckland.

Time well spent communing with nature, we made our way out of the woods and back to what passes for civilization, pulled pork sandwiches at Dickey's BBQ Pit. And right tasty they were too.

Next time out, I'll try and shoot something.

God bless,

LSP

#Blackfacematters

Here is our presidential frontrunner.

Some say she is unfit for office.

That is all.

Your Pal,

LSP

Enter Sandman

I have to post this, because it's genius.

Kick out the Jams,

LSP