Good Friday

The Altars were stripped and two Masses of the Presanctified loomed large on the horizon; light shone above the empty tabernacle. Face East, and while you're at it, lose that nasty faux teak, Vatican II coffee table. Perhaps you have already, well done.

Deformation of the liturgy aside, what are you going to say after John's Passion. Face it, not an easy act to follow. There He is, the Son of God, fallen into the hands of sinful men, not least ourselves and wickedness looms large and strong. But why is it strong? Because Christ submits to it and He does so out of love.

I find this helpful, via Lectionary Central.

Human wickedness will raise itself in pride and claim to be "as God," but that is devilish delusion. God is not touched unless he will it so to be. 

We bear in mind today the weight of human wickedness, that reckless pride which rises up against the holiness of God and the order of his universe. But that is not what is first and most important in the mystery of the love of God, who freely wills our woes to touch his heart, who freely gives himself against our sins, in the sacrifice of Jesus Christ. That is the mystery of this day, and that is why we call this Friday "Good." We celebrate the mystery of the love of God: that "God so loved the world, that he gave his only Begotten Son." (John 3.16) That is love unthinkable, utterly unmerited, beyond all possible expectation.

The preacher continues:

Our task today is nothing other than the contemplation of that mystery of love. It is to fix our minds and hearts upon the passion and the dying of the Son of God. That is, in a way, the whole task of our discipleship. Christians often ask for detailed recipes for Christian life, solutions to all sorts of problems, great and small, and ways for dealing with our sins. All that is understandable. But in the end, there is only one answer to all of this: we must gaze upon the charity of God in Christ. The charity of God must be our food and drink. That is now our duty: to look upon the crucified, and that must become also our delight. We must be transformed by that renewal of our mind, so charity becomes the very substance of our souls.

You can read the whole thing here and needless to say, charity or love wins the day beyond our wildest dreams. With that, have a blessed Holy Saturday.

Your Old Pal,

LSP

Holy Week And Everything Else

All the teenagers of the world, led by the curiously named Hogg, descended on DC demanding the abolition of firearms. 

Julian Assange has had his internet cut off and the nations of what used to be called the free world are pounding cold war drums -- will they escalate? -- against Russia. And it's Holy Week.

The late great Fr. Crouse has this to say about Maundy Thursday, after first reminding us that friendship doesn't easily occur between unequals.

We are friends of God, because his grace makes us so. He makes us god-like, and grants us the equality of friends, the proportional equality of sons. "Behold what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of God." (1 John 3.1)

That is the friendship which Christians call "charity," the very bond of peace and of all virtues. It is the friendship which binds us to God, and unites us to one another in the new commandment of love, "Fellow-citizens with the saints, and of the household of God." (Ephesians 2.19) And as friends, we must do as friends do: we delight in God's presence, we rejoice in our conversation with him, and find comfort in his consolations. As friends we care for all that is his. We seek to do his will as free men, not as slaves. "For we are in love," says St. Thomas, "and it is from love we act, not from servile fear."

Well said. You can read the whole thing here.

God bless,

LSP

Global Warming Is True!

Global Warming or Climate Change is true, say weather experts, causing ice caps to melt and polar bears to die as rising sea levels threaten the existence of humanity and the bears' natural habitat.

One starving bear was filmed by conservation group, Sea Legacy, near Canada's Baffin island.

“We hear from scientists that in the next 100 to 150 years, we’re going to lose polar bears,” Mittermeier [SeaLegacy co-founder Cristina Mittermeier ] said.

“We wanted the world to see what starvation of a majestic animal like this looks like.”

But it's not just the majestic polar bear that's facing extinction thanks to the tragedy of man-made Global Warming, the existence of humanity is also at stake. 

Rising sea levels caused by melting arctic ice will flood cities, such as New York, Vancouver and San Francisco, while whole states, like Maine and Delaware, will sink beneath the waves of the sea.

With their keen instinct for survival, white wolf populations have been moving to high ground in Arizona, where they will be safe above the waters of the flood and ideally situated to prey on fleeing animals.

Climate Change is caused by industrial carbon emissions, which trap heat in the earth's atmosphere in a greenhouse effect, as well as blocking warmth from the sun, leading to a new ice age.

To stave off this impending ecological and human catastrophe, Western governments have proposed a carbon tax on polluting industry. 

Here at the compound we suggest you do your part to save the planet by sponsoring a polar bear today. Donate directly to WWF.

Al Gore, net worth $300 million, is not our leader.

Gaia,

LSP

YouTube Bans Gun Videos

YouTube's banning gun videos, so here's Hickok45 reviewing an Arsenal AK. And I don't know about you but I'm sold.

Gun rights,

LSP

Rocketman

Hey, this is only a random music blog and we're hoping you'll enjoy Iron Horse's version of Rocketman. Maybe it'll relieve your baffled consternation over McCabe March Madness or wonderment at Mueller's ongoing investigation; it continues, despite no evidence whatsoever that Trump worked with the Russians to defeat Hillary.

Baffling, isn't it. 

Illuminati

Unlike joining the Illuminati, which is simple. Go to Houston's rodeo, thread your way through the crowds, ninja-style, and arrive at the Sling Shot.

Lock Her Up

Then ascend like a master to the heavens and get struck by lightning. Presto, illumination. Use that inner light to lock Hillary up, along with all the rest of her corrupt crew of deep state clowns.

We're working on it.

LSP

Rain Bomb!

The Masses were said, the Sacrifice offered and it seemed right to cook up some macaroni cheese in a heavy metal pot. I wasn't sure which was best, Thin Lizzy's version of Whiskey in the Jar or Metallica's but I did know that we needed milk and cheese. Then it happened.

Rain, gentle at first then crashing down like the wrath of God on the roof of the porch, and everywhere else. Yes, a rain bomb, blitzing from the sky with indiscriminate fury. I pulled on a wax jacket and ran to the rig.

A chinking thud. It was hail, the size of a large marble bouncing off the truck and before you could say shrapnel, the sky was full of hurtling chunks of ice and rain, torrential, wind-lashed, driving rain. There was only one choice; don't give up, keep moving, reach the objective, complete the mission.

Perseverance allied with sheer dogged determination paid off, and I left Brookshire's with milk and cheese safely in hand, noting that our Old Enemy, the Weather, had changed yet again. The rain and hail was gone, leaving a rainbow in its wake.  This parting shot from the opposition curiously snuck up behind First Baptist.

How First Baptist dealt with the multi-hued aggressor is another matter again but I'll tell you this, the heavy metal macaroni cheese was delicious and all the better for being a hard fought prize.

Don't fear the reaper,

LSP

The Awesomness Of Houston

One of the best things about Houston is its awesome Dalek. Conveniently situated in Uptown, the mythic Dalek shines its protective light upon the citizens of its city. We welcomed that on our way to the rodeo.

Good work, Houston Livestock Show and I tell you, rodeo's exciting, skilled, patriotic, wholesome, and all 'round uplifting. Just watching the horsemanship of the pickup riders was a boost, to say nothing of the competitors.

What's the best thing about rodeo? That's hard to say because so many things are good about it, but I like the hi-octane adrenaline . Man and beast going at it fast and if you're a bull, furiously. Were there any progleft, libshill, comsymp globalists in the stadium? If there were, I didn't see any and that's good too.

Then there's the carnival. That's a big deal too and I checked out a deep fried Oreo for the first time only to discover that it's essentially an Oreo cookie in a donut. Neat, but not that exciting, unlike the Slingshot ride, which was top level fun.

What happens is this. A couple of bullethead fairground Serbs stand on a metal platform, dancing to rap music in the disco light of the ride. They wear white shirts, their uniform, and beckon you onto the platform. "Don't fear kebab," they tell you as you're harnessed into the round cage of the mighty Slingshot.

Then the Slingshot hurls you into the air and you hang there, far, far above the fairground while the cage slowly rotates until you're looking down in wonder at the minuscule carnies. You hurtle down, only to be shot back up so you can do it all over again. This happens several times in the ten seconds of forever. Result, I want a Slingshot.

Rides and rodeo over, we headed back to base and the security of the Dalek, a great time had by all. Houston, you proved your awesomeness yet again, well done.

God bless,

LSP

Kremlin Kollusion Fail

Put yourself in the other one's shoes and walk the extra mile. The Presidency is yours, it's like a given, virtually assured but you don't get it. Against all the odds, the pollsters and pundits, the ivory tower intellectuals and the media, against all of them, you lose and lose hard.

So what do you do? First, fly into a drunken rage and launch, spitting with rage and lacquered talons at Mook, but then, when the dust has settled over the Tanqueray, fall back on Plan B. 

That's right, attempt to excuse your dismal failure at the polls and reverse the election result by blaming it all on the Russians.

Heck, this thing has been running in the background for months. You've paid for a phony dossier, given it to your friends in the FBI, who've been wiretapping your opposition on the strength of it and, goddammit, it's ready to go public and morph into the Mueller investigation. 

All in the hope that you'll overturn an elected President and take his place, to become the most powerful woman in the world ever.

Call it a coup if you like and the media leaped right in. Everything and anything they didn't like became a Russian bot in what amounted to the strangest, most bizarre, faked-up, brazen bit of political spin narrative skulduggery since Baghdad Bob, and maybe worse.

Behold its genius. Turn conservative, nationalist populism against itself by, you guessed it, bringing back the Red Menace! That'll turn all those ignorant old-timey Repubilcan conservatives; President Trump isn't really the President because he's a Russian spy. So yes, he must be overthrown and replaced by... 

Hillary! Big drinks at K Street PR all 'round.

The only problem was there wasn't any evidence, it wasn't true, the Mueller probe was bogus from day one and now, at last, it's been called by the House Intel Committee. 

In the meanwhile, don't say Bengahzi, Uranium One, Haiti, Body Count, Spirit Cooking, FISA, Tarmac and a video waiting to be released.

And stay tuned for Melania Mondays!

E Pluribus,

LSP

Detroit Comeback?

"That's not the Philippines that's Detroit you idiot," Spoiler 216

Are you in the music industry? It was 1997 and I was in a cab, fresh out of London and heading to the Town Pump in what passed for downtown Detroit. It was a neat evening and, long story short, I moved. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

But what a culture shock, London to Detroit. It's hard to describe even now and it was harder then. Miles of abandoned or half abandoned city blocks, criss crossed by highways and an unrelenting ghetto of decaying, abandoned, burned out, crack den dystopia. And I didn't see the half of all 138 square miles of it.

Is there anything like it in England? I don't think so and feel that friends in the Old Country thought my email reports were tall tales. No, they weren't. Then again, no city in England has lost a million plus inhabitants in the last 50 years and gone from being the automotive capital of the world to... not. So you can excuse incomprehension.

Fast forward to today. I visit the onetime Motor City when I can and always have fun; it's good to see the city's downtown and immediate neighborhoods looking less blighted and no wonder. The burned out crack houses have fallen down and reverted to nature, leaving what was once a city open to agrarian white hipsterdom. Hey, go for it kids. And the result?

A small island of central civility in the increasingly empty shell of a once major city. Not dissimilar, when you think of it, to ancient Rome following the breakdown of western imperial authority. But will America's Motor City grow wings and fly again? 

Sometimes a song is worth a thousand words.

Your Old Friend,

LSP

The Ontological Argument

The Selous Scout video came to an end and I looked at Blue Ontology and he looked at me. We were on the porch, the Compound's front office, and it was already getting hot, being March in Texas. 

Blue Philosopher looked me in the eye and softly growled, "Master, I've rephrased the Ontological Argument."

"Oh, you have, have you? Fur head."
"Don't call me 'fur head', your Eminence, I'm excited by modal possibility."

Note Shadow Wolf

So much for a pleasant morning sipping strong covfefe and watching the Bush War, in which a country was sold down the river by the West into the hands of Marxist savages. I prepared myself for a canine discourse; sure enough, it came.

"You see, Parson, Anselm can be re-imagined like this!" exclaimed the four legged philosopher.

"If God exists then he has necessary existence. Either God has necessary existence or he doesn't, and if God doesn't have necessary existence, then he necessarily doesn't exist. "Are you with me?" 

I grunted, idly cleaning the gas block of an FN/FAL (SLR/L1A1). My furry intellectual continued.

"Therefore, either God has necessary existence, or he necessarily doesn't, and if God necessarily doesn't have necessary existence, then he necessarily doesn't exist. Therefore, either God has necessary existence, or he necessarily doesn't exist."

Ontology

The dog paused while I reflected on the pros and cons of gas impingement v. piston, "Carry on." He did, I couldn't stop him.

"Master, it is not the case that God necessarily doesn't exist. Therefore God has necessary existence and if God has necessary existence, then God exists. Therefore God exists!"

He sat back, satisfied with his logic and doubtless expecting an ontological "treat." I looked him in the eye, "So, you've been reading Plantinga again, have you? Well, I must say it makes a welcome change from Jan Hus."

Milk Bone

And for that he got a bone, a milk bone. It seemed necessary at the time.

Your Pal,

LSP

Archbishop Of Canterbury Bows Like A Dhimmwit

The Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby, has been caught on camera, bowing like a dhimmwit before Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed Bin Salman.

Salman is on a world tour promoting his version of a more liberal Saudi Arabia. During an hour long meeting with the bowing Archbishop, Salmon reassured the dhimmwitted prelate that Saudi Arabia is committed to "interfaith dialogue within the Kingdom and beyond."

Two Steps Behind, Justin

What would this "dialogue" look like, in a place where the open expression of any faith other than Islam is banned and conversion to another religion is punishable by death? 

Perhaps "interfaith dialogue" is simply a euphemism for bowing before Islam and servile dhimmitude for all who live in the house of war.

Royal Sheikh

It looks like Justin should fit right in.

Kizmet,

LSP 

Reconnaissance

On Wednesday there's Stations of the Cross followed by a class on the Apostles' Creed. On Thursday there's Stations of the Cross at a different church, followed by soup and salad and fellowship. That's Lent for you but here's the thing, the second church is close to a lake.

So, after a tasty if frugal meal of soup I drove down to the lake for a recce to see what the fish were up to. 

These New Rods Need To Be Broken In

It felt good to clamber down the limestone bluff as the sun was setting and you could smell Texas; cedar and sage blown in on clean, clear air. It smells like freedom and a land that's barely been settled but did it augur fish?

No, not this time. I didn't see anything break the water, despite the golden hour time of day. They were probably sleeping, like Western Civilization itself before the onslaught of fanatical Jihad. Fish are like that, they lie suspended and unthinking in the chill water of the lake, waiting for warmer weather to stir them on.

Where's The Fish?

Still, even though the fish were asleep at the wheel, the heavens weren't and it was good to see the sun set over the lake.

We'll be back and back in force; there's outrageously good fishing to be had in just this spot. I know this from experience.

Texas

Wait 'til the Bass are blitzing.

Your Old Mate,

LSP