I Saw A UFO On Sunday

A UFO? Don't you mean ACoC (Anglican Church of Canada), flying across the heavens on its way to the icy void of deep space? No, readers, this was the real deal.

Two days ago I stepped out onto Compound's back porch to take in the starry brilliance of a Texan night sky. OK, not as Milky Way remarkable as, say, West Texas but still, not bad. Then a light appeared in my peripheral vision, very bright, moving North to South. 

The exhaust looked a bit like this but more defined

I thought it was a chopper, perhaps a Careflight, or Law Enforcement chasing down some cultural enrichment. In a second it was in front and above me, moving fast. I looked up, noticing an intermittent jetlike red exhaust behind the craft. Weird, do choppers do that? then registered that whatever it was was silent, no noise whatsoever. 

No sooner noted than the light and exhaust blinked out as though they had never been, nothing was there, not even a silhouette against the starlit sky. So what was this thing?

Some kind of new, noiseless stealth tech, a visitor from another dimension, defying the laws of space and time? A Toronto deanery,  a liturgical dancer, Hillary's emails? Who knows, but there it was, silent and fast, and then it wasn't.

Make of this what you will,

LSP

Is The Australian Airforce A Pathetic SJW Joke?

Has the once mighty Aussie Air Force become an aerial social justice warrior joke? Apparently it has, with new guidelines telling pilots to think of wymmyn and take a "gender perspective" when bombing the enemy.

According to its new rainbow hued "Gender in Air Operations" doctrine:

Although destroying this target may provide a military advantage against the enemy, the second order effect may mean that, due to the gendered social roles, women need to travel further afield, on unfamiliar and less secure, well-known or well-lit routes to gather water and firewood.

Watch out, pilots, better not bomb the trans disco. In the meanwhile, good luck RAAF, maybe the enemy'll die laughing.

I'm off to see if the fish are biting after a weekend of global cooling deluge. We can but hope.

Your Old Friend,

LSP

Who Do You Love?

Who do you love? Anyone, anything? To put it another way, what do you really want, bread and power, the world, the flesh and devil or some other thing?

Your call. Sermon over,

LSP

How To Replace The Extractors On A Mossberg 835 Ulti-Mag

"So, LSP, if that's your real name which we doubt, how do you replace the extractors on a Mossberg 835 Ulti-Mag 12 gauge?" Good question, punters.  First things first, you put the beast on a Led Sled and take a photo with your not-so-smart phone. Beautiful, isn't it.

Then you reminisce about all the armed strolls through the country, dove down, skeet smoked, rabbits for the pot, ducks missed and general pump action shotgunnery. Good times, no doubt about it.

But here's the thing, it may be a deadly assault shotgun but only if the extractors work and the gun cycles ammo. Then it's banned in dhimmitudes like New Zealand, Great Britain, Australia and beyond. In those countries only criminals can own guns, so law abiding citizens are safer.

Reverie over you move to the task in hand, changing out the 20 year old (?) extractors and their dualist, Manichean springs. How? It's not hard, take down the weapon, behold the bolt, place it on two blocks of wood and tap out the pins which hold the extractors and springs in place. Then replace. Easy, right?

No, not easy, because the pins are held in place by dark Zeroastrian magicke, Pangea, typical. First you take a pin punch to the thing, tap, tap, tap; tap out the pin, LSP. Fail. The pins don't want to move because they're wedded to staying deep within the Solar Disc of the bolt.

Don't give up like some kind of RINO, fight through to the objective. For me, that meant moving the lubed up bolt to  a vise. Resist, Ulti-Mag enthusiasts, the urge to pound the bolt with a hammer. Instead, take a sturdier punch to the task and tap again, the pin should move. Follow through with a lighter gauge punch equivalent.

Retaining pins driven out of communion, replace the worn out qabbalists with new parts. It's easy enough, pop in the springs and extractors, hold the extractors in place with a retaining punch and tap in the pins. Do it in a vise, if you're me. 

Please don't freak out and pound on the immobile pins with a sledgehammer, that'll mess up the job. Stay calm and while you're at it it, remove and clean the bolt lock. You don't have to, there's no "rule," but I recommend it.

Then sit back and behold the glory of the thing. Two new extractors in an old bolt and a gun restored to fight again for another couple of decades. Right on, and you did it yourself as opposed to paying someone at Ray's to rip you off $200.

The Mossberg 835 Ulti-Mag began life in 1988 as an all-purpose shotgun, capable of handling small to big loads, 2 1/4-3 1/2". It retails at around $600, mine cost $200 from a gun show a decade ago, and features a ported barrel, tang safety and over-bored barrel (don't try slugs, kids). It's been a workhorse and worth every penny.

Buy one if you like, but be sure to spray the unpleasant camo on the new guns black. Better yet, go to a gun show and buy one at the right price.

Your Pal,

LSP

The Beauty of Feminist Liturgy

What better way to unwind after a hard day's work than to sit back and relax with some feminist liturgy. Like Our Mother Who Is Within Us:

Our Mother who is within us

we celebrate your many names.

Your wisdom come.

Your will be done,

unfolding from the depths within us.

Each day you give us all that we need.

You remind us of our limits

and we let go.

You support us in our power

and we act with courage.

For you are the dwelling place within us

the empowerment around us

and the celebration among us

now and for ever. Amen

Beautiful, isn't it, but don't forget croning. Yes, croning, in which a group of old crones celebrate being just that, crones. One of the better parts of this empowering liturgy features the Presentation of Crone Jewels, which only cost around a buck apiece from a "rock shop." It goes like this:

Presentation of Crone Jewels (These can be purchased at a rock shop for about $1 each)

Leader: “Amethyst has long been credited with special magic, believed to have powers of protection, healing, and enhancement of mental powers and wit, valued as a stone of spirituality and peace. It is associated especially with the Crone. We wish to present each of the honorees with her own Crone jewel as a token of her status as Crone.”

[Stones presented by Leader]
Toast to the New Crones (Have a sparkling drink here)
Leader: “Let us now toast the new Crones.”
Group Chant: “The earth, the air, the fire, the water, return, return, return, return.”

So special, treasure your crone jewels. After a closing benediction invoking the elemental spirits of earth, air, fire and water, the newly minted crones are free to disperse. 

You can read the whole thing here or, if you prefer, be inspired by the ACoC (Anglican Church of Canada) clergyperson who's also a wizard figure.

Your Friend,

LSP

Trump 2020 Trailer - Here We Go Now

President Donald Trump 2020 trailer. A sneak peak of the upcoming 2020 election pic.twitter.com/QZXePmcj6r

— Wojciech Pawelczyk 🇵🇱 (@PolishPatriotTM) April 5, 2019

Good work, team,

LSP

Brexit Betrayal?

Is Theresa May doomed to go down as the worst UK Prime Minister after Oswald Mosely? Bets on she will, following her traitorous attempt to make a Brexit that isn't a Brexit, all the while keeping her globalist NWO pals in power and cash.

Globalist Shill

As it is, over 17 million people who voted to leave the EU are seeing their votes disregarded by the very people who depend on their votes, that's right, MPs. What does this mean for UK democracy? 

NWO Stooge

You guessed it, suck it up, serfs, while your country's flooded with votes, sorry, immigrants, until you don't matter anymore and the Britain you vaguely remember will be just that, a dream. 

3 Para

And then, while you're staring around in slack-jawed amazement, you'll be picked up for thoughtcrime and re-educated. But who'll do the rounding up, the Army? Maybe 3 Para thinks otherwise.

Watch out, commies, we're comin' for 'ya.

LSP 

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