The Second Civil War

Some argue that the second American civil war, or #2cw, has already begun. A war in which the revolutionary left, backed by millionaire socialists and their agitprop media shills attempts to seize control of the heart, soul and destiny of the nation.

Here at the Compound we hope you're as heartened by the above infographic as we are.

Don't fear the reaper,

LSP

PARAS SHOOT COMRADE CORBYN

Well done, those men! 

Real ammo next time.

Carry on,

LSP

Go For A Drive And Visit The Flock

In the old days you'd walk around the parish and visit people, now you climb into the rig and head out to the county. But I'm not complaining, it's good to drive around Hill County on a spring day, everything's green, the sun shines and all seems well with the world in its central Texan aspect.

Eureka

I passed through Eureka on the back route to Itasca, which was settled after the Civil War and was never very large; now it's smaller, being pretty much a cemetery and some grain bins. The cemetery's on ground owned by the same family since the 1870s, curiously. Then on through the rural Itascan dystopia.

Itasca

Saying that, Itasca does have Karen's and a great new Amish(?) deli, as well as the usual falling down warehouses and boarded up shops. But there's a number of towns here that aren't much more than an historical marker or cemetery; the people, businesses and industry moved on along with the use of the land itself. 

Blanton

Sometimes I'll stop to explore an abandoned house that's returning to nature and I did today, in what was once Blanton. It's eerie, looking at the abandonment, but don't get lost in the thought of the thing and step on a snake, that'd be an error.

 A Dwarf Surfboard?

Blanton prospered in the 1880s and '90s, boasting 150 residents, a school, two doctors, a mason,  blacksmith, shopkeepers, numerous churches, a cotton gin, gristmills and a cemetery. 

Sic Transit

Then the Texas and Brazos Valley Railway bypassed the town in the early 1900s and the place declined. There's little left now.

Fast

Still, it's a tranquil place to gaze out on the countryside from the tailgate with one of Karen's bean and brisket burritos but not today, no bean and brisket because of the Lenten fast. Well, absence makes the heart grow fonder, and after a short no burrito stopover in bucolic Blanton I drove to Whitney via 934/933, enjoying the countryside.

Only to end back at the County Seat and the Tractor Supply Company, where they're selling chicks. Scientists, who are experts, tell us that these are the descendants of mighty dinosaurs. 

Unfazed by this, people buy the fluffy little birds for backyard chicken operations, so there'll be no shortage of eggs here come the Eschaton.

God bless,

LSP

April Fools Shoot

CC swung by from the metrosprawl with a truckload of guns, he especially wanted to see if an old Winchester 1200 pump worked after visiting an armorer. We drove out into the Texan countryside to find out. 

Fail!

The 1200 was up first against the clays, which call themselves White Flyers even though they're orange. Anyway, hopes were high that the Winchester was going to work, it usually doesn't, and CC lined up to shoot, "Pull!" and off flew the orange adversaries into a big sky. Boom, down went a few clays, it looked like the gun was working.

A Glock & A Ruger

Until it didn't. After the first few rounds the troubled beast didn't want to feed, had trouble ejecting and then stopped firing altogether. You'd chamber a round, squeeze the trigger and... nothing. I advised CC to sell the April Fools gun to a pawn shop or part ex it for something useful.

Winchester Model 90?

We changed over to a CZ Bobwhite 20 and merrily smoked skeet till all the ammo was gone. What a lot of fun and what a great little gun. Thanks, TC. After a short bout with a Ruger Redhawk (sorry, Security 6) .357 Magnum and a Glock 21 .45, it was time to plink.

The Range

Shotgun shells, cans, milk jugs, bits of broken skeet, steel plates and more all fell under a deadly hail of .22 LR sent via Ruger and Remington. Hours of enjoyment and then it was time to head back to the Compound, a good time had by all.

Big Sky

In related news, New Zealand's banned pump action shotguns so that only criminals can have them. Now they're much safer.

Gun rights,

LSP

Apropos of Awesome

There he was, on Peshawar's train station pavement, wearing a blazer, straw panama, grey slacks, some sort of dam tie and, to cap it off, an umbrella, furled. Take note, natives, here am I.

And they did, by saluting sharply. The Raj, you see, had returned. Perhaps you think this some kind of made up, ha-ha joke. Think again. No, early 1980s.

Lord Curzon forever,

LSP

Freedom Day March London

Here's a lighthearted video from London via our reporter on the ground. A lot of people aren't too happy at being sold down the river by a gang of Jermyn Street crooks in Parliament, but there wasn't any violence.

Still, OSE, BBC millionaire socialist Jon Snow thought it was racist because so many white people were there. Jon Snow, who's notoriously white, has a handy MillSoc net worth of £5 million.

Change ‘white’ to ‘black’ and his career would’ve been over. https://t.co/YlEuxvGcNB

— Peter Whittle AM (@prwhittle) March 30, 2019

It's weird, but some people found the rich leftist's comments offensive. How could that be, he earns so much more money than you.

The reason Jon Snow’s words are offensive to us all and not just to whites is because they judge us by the colour of our skin and not the content of our character. https://t.co/QJIs50kJZg

— Katharine Birbalsingh (@Miss_Snuffy) March 30, 2019

Perhaps you didn't get the message, serfs. Obey your globalist rulers! With that in mind, faux Tory, real globalist, Dominic Grieve found himself deselected.

Who knows, perhaps the Blairite Conservative traitors will take note and actually deliver on their promise. If they don't, the next march might not be so good-natured. 

See you in the Carlton Club.

BREXIT,

LSP

Build The Wall & Other Things

The Compound's fortunate in many ways, not least for having a sturdy wall. It's made of wood and topped off with a flexi-mesh system to keep out illegal chickens. I know, it sounds cruel, "think of the children!," but it's doing them a favor. 

You see, they fly over looking for a new life, then Blue Terminator kills them, and the poor birds get breasted and turn into jalapeno poppers. Who knows, maybe America's southern border will have a wall one day too. 

Then there's the statues. Do you remember them? All those Confederate statues which prevented people of color from escaping the oppression of systemic racism?

These obviously need to go and many have, leaving a gaping void in our civic landscape. This needs to be filled and quickly, but by what? The answer's clear, statues of a new hero, the Grand Commander, President Trump. In gold obviously, yes, real gold.

In other news, I was going to ride but it's raining and don't want  to slip and skid in the slushy mud of the Texan tundra. So it's time to clean guns instead.

Don't forget, all four of you readers, a clean gun is a happy gun.

Cheers,

LSP

What A Great Week

Some weeks aren't so good but not this week, this is a great week. Here's a short list of victories so far and it's only Thursday.

Two years of the Mueller witch hunt and "Russia stole the election from the most qualified candidate ever in the history of our nation!" collapsed, because guess what? No evidence whatsoever.

Creepy Porn Lawyer Michael Avenatti, onetime presidential hopeful, gets arrested for extortion, wire fraud, and money laundering. #Basta

AOC's GND (Green New Deal) fails to get a single vote in the Senate because it's so transparently stupid that even the Democrats can't endorse it.

Juicy Smollet gets an unsurprising get outta jail free card, nearly tarnishing the week, but then the Great Commander siccs the FBI and DOJ on the celebrity hate crime hoaxer.

All this and more within the octave of the Feast of the Annunciation. Coincidence? I think not.

Carry on,

LSP

Fishing While Jussie Skates

Take advantage of a beautiful Texan spring morning and go fishing; bright, clear air, a shining sun, and the still waters of the lake reflecting the sky. It smells good too, wildflowers, sage, cedar, sun on limestone, and the earth coming alive. 

But I wasn't there to record a lull in the new Ice Age, I was there to fish. And sure enough there was a school of carp under someone's pleasure boat tied up at the pier. You could hear them thrashing and fighting against the pontoons of the boat in some kind of furious carp frenzy.

Very exciting and I baited a small hook with a worm, visions of titanic struggle against monster carp looming large. Not unrealistic either, I'd landed some leviathans with the same bait from that very spot the year before, big fun. 

So off went a worm under the boat into the churning carp, expectation up, and I waited, and waited. No bite. You could see the carp ignoring the delicious worm in droves, they cared nothing for the worm, it didn't matter to them at all.

I bobbed it about, tried different depths and different positions. Perhaps the fish will love this worm if it's a foot higher or lower, or somewhere else altogether. 

No, it meant nothing to them. They didn't like gooey yellow chunks of special carp bait either, which was weird because the packet said carp loved them. They didn't.

Baffled by the perversity of fish, I packed up, promising the piscine adversary I'd be back with a vengeance. Maybe with canned corn, which carp love. Stay tuned.

Back at the Compound I turned on the internet to laugh at rich socialists insisting that Trump's a Russian agent because Hillary lost an election. And then Boom! what's this? Juicy Smollet skates? Yes, on 16 felony counts and the case closed and sealed. No trial, no nothing because of a deal with the state prosecutor. 

Even Rahm Emmanuel and Axelrod think it's a disgrace, which says something. Perhaps something about who wants to be the next mayor of Chicago?

Fish on,

LSP

Monday Shoot

One of the good things about the Feast of the Annunciation is you get to go out and shoot, which is exactly what we did. The orange adversary fell under a flak-tower hail of shot. 

I tell you, it was like screaming Messerschmitts going down over the Channel. But here's a thought.

If you want to hit the clay or for that matter the bird, you mostly have to aim. That's right, put the bead on the target as opposed to firing off in the general direction like some crazed Hitler Youth. It makes a difference.

You see, people come to shotgunnery with all kinds of myths and psychic seconds of forever. They think, understandably perhaps, that they have to over lead the fast moving orange or feathered target. This means they don't aim at it, take too long over the thing, and miss the shot.

No. Those lead BBs are flying out of the barrel at 1,200+ fps, they're fast, really fast. So put the bead on, aim, and shoot. Don't hold back, don't hesitate, engage the target and boom, smoke the clay, drop the bird.

After a while it becomes muscle memory and you can get into the nuance and lead of the thing, not that I'm an expert, but first things first, don't overthink the shot or you'll miss.

There's a moral here if you care to draw it.

Texas Rules,

LSP

No You Are Not Awesome

My, it being a Sunday, just look at these bishop figures. Imagine, if you can, so many people pretending to be something they don't believe in anyway. I like this infographic:

Touching, isn't it. Then there's the new bishop figure of London, pretty hot, eh? C'mon, COE, let's fill those empty pews!

But don't forget Gloucester, which labours under an ancient curse. Maybe Rachel's going to lift that because she's so feminine and gorgeous.

See, the thing is no one's going to take the venerable if disastrously shrinking Church of England seriously if they don't consecrate women to the episcopate.

Just you wait and see; something nasty in the woodshed? With apologies to the awesome Stella Gibbons, hardly, parading in plain sight.

Your Old Friend,

LSP

Satan Does Not Tolerate Failure

I'd say Tucker pretty much nails it, we've been lied to for a good two years and the lie was as big as it was preposterous, that's right, Trump's a Russian agent in the pay of the Kremlin. 

But why the lie? To cover up Hillary Clinton's massive failure in 2016. How?

Via Zerohedge:

1. Undermine his legitimacy before he even takes office.

2. Accuse him of what Hillary actually did: collude with Russians and Ukrainians to effect the outcome of the election.

3. Paralyze Trump on his foreign policy desires to scale back the Empire.

4. Give aid and comfort to hurting progressives and radicalize them further undermining our political system.

5. Polarize the electorate over the false choice of Trump’s guilt.

6. Paralyze the Dept. of Justice and Congress so that they would not uncover the massive corruption in the intelligence agencies in the U.S. and the U.K.

7. Isolate Trump and take away every ally or potential ally he could have by turning them against him through prosecutor overreach.

But the plan didn't work, like Hillary's shot at becoming President it was a monumental failure. There wasn't any Russian collusion, and lo and behold, Trump isn't a Kremlin spy installed in the Oval Office by Putin, Head of Spectre.

That makes two really big, epic failures, 2016 and now this. Think of all the money and vested interests wasted and thwarted by the doubleplusbig loss. Given that Satan doesn't tolerate failure, heads must inevitably roll. The question is, whose?

In the meanwhile, per Tucker, let's see a pardon for Roger Stone.

LSP