Glasgow PD Goes Full Rainbow Nazi

Nothing quite like a knock on the door at 4 am, is there, and let's hope your family doesn't mind paying for the bullet. But maybe that won't be necessary, there's plenty of room in Scotland for gulags. You know, for all those people who post unkind thoughts on the internet.

Obey Your Rulers!

Glasgow PD, you win the NWO Illuminati drivel prize for safe space, cry baby, dropped-on-head-as-infant, rainbow unicorn fascism. You are now scorned.

And that's kind,

LSP

Behold Your Rulers

Look at our rulers. They're responsible for our security, the preservation of liberty and the common good.

Dumbass

Here's the most powerful one. Inspiring, isn't he.

No Comment

And here's Trudeau's boy. He'll make sure Canada's safe from attack.

Now You're Safe

But what about Great Britain? The Free World is safe for gay marriage with Dave!

Nice One, Shillary

Maybe the next Nuclear Security Summit will be hosted by the famous NWO Illuminati Powershill, Hillary Clinton. What can we say, the genius of Yoko?

Kick out the JAMS.

LSP

The Diocese of New Westminster Crashes in Pershore!

Residents of a sleepy market town in Worcestershire, England, got a rude awakening when the Diocese of New Westminster fell to earth early this morning.

Pershore High Street

The piece of space junk crashed onto Pershore's Church Walk, near the toney farming community's historic abbey, narrowly missing cars and startling locals.

"I was on my way to buy some smoked salmon and pheasant," stated Annabelle Harley-Ffoulkes, "when there was an appalling noise. I thought it was one of those beastly women vicars at the Abbey, but it was just the Diocese of New Westminster. I was pretty relieved, I can tell you."

Typical Pershore Street Scene

The Diocese of New Westminster went into orbit in the early 1990s, along with the Anglican Church of Canada (ACoC), and communicated sporadically with earth until it crash landed in the prosperous farming community.

Space Junk

There are an estimated 500,000 pieces of man made debris, or space junk, orbiting the earth at speeds of up to 17,500 mph. Pershore is home to 8000 people.

LSP

It's Bushcraft Wednesday!

Everyone knows the famous Bushcraft classic, Guy on a Buffalo, but here's the genius that started it all. Sit back, tan some buckskin, sharpen your Puuko knife, light a fire using flint and steel, and enjoy the show.

Your Outdoors Friend,

LSP

You Plinker!

Some say that a dinner of roast quail and venison sausage, rifle to table, helps you shoot better the next day at the range. I drove out into the Texan countryside with my philisophical pal, GWB, to find out.

We took along a couple of scoped Ruger .22s, an American and a 10/22, representing the bolt and the semi side of the rimfire world. And a couple of pistols, a Sig and a Glock, chambered for 9mm and .45. But what about the quail and venison theory of marksmanship, how did that stand up, in the real world?

If a metal kettle, a plastic Folgers container, steel plates and turkey, at 75 and 100 yards, are anything to go by, the theory holds true. Down went the opposition, with a vengeance. I claim the best pistol shot of the day, hitting the kettle at 75 yards with the Glock. Sorry, kettle, you lose. I never much liked you anyway.

Shoot over, GWB wanted to check out the land behind the range for what he calls "native Texan grasses." That excitement over, I spotted a piece of metal, shining in the hot spring sun. "Look at that, you see it, glinting in the sun?" I asked my Wittgensteinian ally, "Maybe it's a piece of UFO debris. Let's have a look."

It wasn't a bit of space junk, annoyingly, just an old air conditioner that someone had dumped. And as I reflected on the higher implications of that, a long rattlesnake uncoiled silently from beneath the rusting metal and made its way, gliding and deadly, into a nearby pipe. Moral of the story?

Quail and venison help you shoot. This is now settled science. Also, don't be a dimwit when you go for a nature ramble in Texas, it's not Devon, or the Cotswolds. Take a gun, you might need it, and be careful poking around in space junk, who knows what killers might lurk within.

Shoot straight,

LSP

Don't Forget The Battle of Towton

You may have forgotten, like me, that yesterday was the 555th anniversary of the Battle of Towton, in Yorkshire, England. Something like 28,000 men died on that day, or 1% of the population, making it one of England's bloodiest actions.

Here's a description of the battle, in which Edward, soon to be Edward IV, fought with 48,000 men against Queen Margaret of Anjou's army of 60,000, in a blizzard:

Soon they were being driven into a wetland that swiftly became a deathly pool of blood: their only escape was to scramble uphill from the left flank and attempt to flee. Doing so, however, meant climbing up wet and churned-up turf with the blizzard on their backs. As they tried to run they were mown down by the Yorkist cavalry, who swept over the open ground, cudgelling and lancing their enemies with abandon. Even those who made it past Towton suddenly found themselves trapped once more: before the battle the Lancastrians had broken the wooden bridge further up Cock Beck, and they were now penned in at the far end of the battle-site. As the cavalry closed in on them, men threw off their armour and tried to wade or swim through the brisk water. Weary, wounded or half-frozen, they drowned by the dozen, until eventually the beck was so dammed with corpses that their colleagues could scramble to safety over what became known as the Bridge of Bodies.

The Lancastrian defeat turned into a slaughterous frenzy of killing and mutilation:

With men dying in their thousands, the Lancastrian line dissolved by midafternoon, and the leaders took flight. Behind them, defeat became a devastating rout. On Edward’s orders, no mercy was shown in victory. Skulls later found on the battlefield showed the most horrific injuries: faces split down the bone, heads cut in half, holes punched straight through foreheads. Some men died with more than 20 wounds to their head: the signs of frenzied slaughter by men whipped into a state of barbaric bloodlust. Some victims were mutilated: their noses and ears ripped off, fingers snipped from hands to remove rings and jewellery in the plunder of the dying.

Edward went on to become King of England and Margaret fled to France, returning to England to lead an army against Yorkist forces in 1471, at the battle of Tewkesbury. She was defeated and her son, Edward, was killed. The fierce Queen was imprisoned, her spirit broken, and eventually ransomed by her cousin, Louis XI of France.

Margaret lived the last 7 years of her life in France, dying at the age of 52 in Anjou. She was buried in Angers Cathedral next to her parents and remained there until her tomb was desecrated by revolutionaries who pillaged the cathedral in the French Revolution.

Here endeth the lesson,

LSP

Europe at War?

The prescient Rod Dreher comments on Europe's response to being attacked by Islamic terrorists, and though he doesn't mention rousing choruses of Imagine, he might just as well have done:

One of these days — sooner rather than later — Europeans will tire of hashtags, candles in the square, and diversity-is-our-strength lectures from their leaders. Then what?

The Jihad Runs From a Peace Sign. In Candles.

Then what. Dreher hints at an outcome earlier on in his blog piece, after hearing a list of potential Jihad targets from an Italian intelligence source:

If those Islamic terror cells activate themselves, Europe is not only going to have to worry about its train stations and airports. This would be all-out guerrilla war, and nobody would be safe.

Get Used to a Lot More of This

With that, the boom would come down on Europe's post-war liberal society, and its freedom, to say nothing of Aleppo coming to a city near you.

Aleppo

One major power, Russia, appears to take this seriously, perhaps because the Jihad's on its borders, but in Western Europe that border's blurred, if it's there at all. And after the hashtags, peace signs and John Lennon songs have bitten the dust, what then?

I'm not a betting man, but I wager the result won't be a whole lot of peace, love and music. You can read the whole thing here.

ISIS Laughs.

LSP

Cooking With LSP, Just Throw it in The Pot

One of the many benefits of Easter is that you get leftover lamb. What do you do with all that lamb? Cut it up and throw it in the pot with diced onions and garlic, and fry it in olive oil and butter. 

Add some curry powder, tomato and chili powder. Don't be shy, chuck it in. After all, this isn't a fancy pants Ivy League curry, or a Druid Hill, Trump 2016, I went to Emory curry. No, it's just a rough and ready, throw-it-in-the-pot, take it as you find it curry.

Let it simmer, as you drink a cold beer. I like Fosters, which reminds me of England, even though it's from Australia.

Perhaps you roll out some dough and make naan bread in an iron skillet, perhaps not, there's no "rule." And then, simmer over, serve with rice and eat that scoff like a warrior.

Cheers,

LSP

Shoot Your Guns

Some people have ONE gun, others have several, but whatever the case, the song remains the same. If you're going to be any good with firearms you have to actually shoot them, as opposed to staring at them fondly as they stand gleaming in their racks.

Thieves

That was brought home to me a little while ago, after a dismal offhand performance against some steel plates. The expression, "couldn't spot a thieving hippy on the hustle in Austin from 10 paces" totally applied, embarrassingly. So I set out to change that, with a Glock 21, an AR 15 and a Ruger American .22.

After a brisk warm up against an unfortunate silhouette, the plates were swinging at 50 and 75 yards. Well done, Ruger. 

Here's a Handy Chart

I left the rifle zeroed at 50 yards; just dial it up a fraction under 5.5" for 100 yards. And note how the Ruger American takes the ubiquitous 10/22 30 round magazine. Good job, team.

The AR did fine, too, and made handy work of an empty value pack of .223. It has a Primary Arms 1x6 scope on it, which I'm tempted to upgrade. Perhaps with a Vortex Strike Eagle.

Then there's Glock. Some people don't like Glocks and call them "rubbish." Well, the Glock 21 isn't a Colt Python and it can't send the mighty .357 Magnum through your enemy's engine block, but still, I'm not complaining. That pistol is all business.

Shoot over, head for home.

Gun Rights,

LSP

Christ Has Risen!

Happy Easter and God bless,

LSP

Banana Republic?

Have we become a Banana Republic? ZeroHedge seems to think so. Here's an excerpt:

Perkins: It’s been interesting because, in the past, the economic hit man economy was being propagated in order to make America wealthier and presumably to make people here better off, but as this whole process has expanded in the U.S. and Europe, what we’ve seen is a tremendous growth in the very wealthy at the expense of everybody else.

Your Old Friend

According to the article, 62 persons own half of the entire world's assets. And how many of those support SHillary? Food for thought, eh? But I won't bang on.

Have a blessed Easter Vigil.

Your Pal,

LSP 

Holy Saturday

The body of Christ lays in the Tomb.

LSP