Holy Monday Shoot

The sun shone, rising incandescent over the chicken operation, and you could hear Maria singing to her ravenous birds while peacocks shrieked. A good day to be alive in Texas, a good day to shoot. 

Compound Sun

CC swung by from the metrosprawl, he wanted to test out his Winchester 1200 pump and I wanted to see if the new extractors I'd pinned into a Mossberg 835 lived up to their name. So off we went to the range with a truckload of guns. Holy Monday style.

Guns

Long story short, the 1200 didn't really work. Sure, it started off well enough, then decided it didn't want to feed or shoot when you squeezed the trigger. CC, word to the wise, lose that weapon or hang it on the wall as a keepsake. 

The Mossberg worked well enough, though three shells out of 60(?) failed to extract, the last being shooter error. So maybe a bit more attention's needed in the armory department.

CC, Lose The 1200

Then it was time for 20s. CC knocked a few clays outta the sky with a single shot something from Brazil. I call it "Old Bolsanero," for some reason, and we moved thankfully onto a CZ. Just a lot of fun to shoot, quick, dead on, light and easy on the shoulder. Stylish too, if you like a SxS.

A Couple of 20s

And go figure, we both smoked a lot of clays, hurled into the air redneck style with a plastic thrower. I'd like a machine, to be honest, but saving for a new rig and lever guns takes priority. All in good time.

Check it Out, Tejas

I tell you, this last few months have been all about shotguns. Remedial for me and a reminder of the sheer enjoyment that's to be had from blasting away at flying targets. And I have to say, again, that I'm a total convert to the 20 and, for that matter, doubles. OK, late in the game, LSP, but whatever.

Your Old Pal. Don't be a Narcissist, LSP

Shotgunnery over it was .22 plinkerthon time and what's wrong with that? Nothing at all, and it keeps your aim in on a Holy Week budget. Great fun, courtesy of Ruger and Remington, but news started to filter through to the range. Notre Dame was on fire.

Rig

Serious business, it was time to head back to the Compound.

Gun rights,

LSP

Palm Sunday 2019

I love Palm Sunday, the gateway to Holy Week and with it the opportunity to follow Christ ever more deeply on his way to the cross and resurrection. Beautiful, and it forces two things upon us, discernment and choice.

Who and what do we love, what leads us, who do we follow? Bread and power, the world, the flesh and the devil who hovers over all, or Christ? Discernment achieved, choose wisely.

That said, half of one of the Missions was missing in action today. Why? Because they'd gone to a rabbit show. That's right, a bunny display.

Well, there's nothing quite like anticipating Easter.

Antenicene Fathers forever,

LSP

All Means All

Here we are, on the very cusp of Holy Week, so big thanks goes out to the Minneapolis Desk for  sending in this helpful infographic.

All the world's welcome, except St. Paul, Jesus, and everyone else who's had the backwards, flyover country temerity to think that marriage is somehow confined to men and women.

All means ALL, peasants, so get with the program and hurry up with turning yourselves into sexless drones of the NWO hivemind. 

Think, once the patriarchal oppression of gender's removed you'll be free, at last, to do the will of your bi-coastal elite rulers. Wesley's doubtless turning in his grave.

So to cheer you up, here's this, sent in by our bureau chief in Wales:

You can sign up for a one day course on axe making here. What you do with the axe afterwards is entirely up to you.

Have a beautiful and blessed Palm Sunday.

Your Friend,

LSP

The Deluge

It started off like one of Michael Avenatti's clients, misty rain, but this is Texas not the Cotswolds, so fine April spray soon turned to fierce downpour followed by wind-whipped, cataclysmic deluge. No kidding, the elemental weather spirits were clearly displeased with preparations for Holy Week.

Or perhaps the explanation's natural. As the earth's magnetic field weakens prior to pole flip, so too does our old enemy, the Weather, strengthen. Regardless, the roads into town were on their way to being flooded and having a rig came in handy.

Safely back at the Compound, we stand resolute while lightning cracks overhead and rain crashes down, watching the flotsam and jetsam of a once prosperous farming community sweep by in the rising waters. Discarded weaves, dead blunt packets, broken toys, malt liquor bottles, carrion and other trash, all the usual offscouring of rural life. 

Is this the Eschaton? The dogs certainly think so, howling above the thunder and the sirens which fill the air. But no, surely this is just a harbinger of things to come. 

Speaking of which, top level bi-coastal elite Democrats don't seem too pleased with the President's plan to ship illegal immigrants to sanctuary cities like San Francisco. It's like MAGA's somehow, haha, rained on their MillSoc parade.

Didn't you get the memo, commies? Open borders begin at home.

Shelter from the storm,

LSP

What A Remarkable Week!

What an amazing week it's been, and it's only Thursday. Julian Assange bundled into a freedom van by UK Stasi for having the temerity to report the truth, albeit by way of the loathsome Chelsea Manning. Good thing he's got no dirt on Hillary, right?

Then there's the neverending BREXIT, voted for by the British people and betrayed by NWO Eurocrat Theresa May, but does anyone in the UK really care? The vote's out on that score, but the French continue to riot against their repellent Rothschild puppet overlord, Macron and his aged consort, La Trolle Brigitte. Good luck, Gilets Jaunes.

Closer to home, the Attorney General's accused the Obama sanctioned Deep State of, ahem, malfeasance. Malfeasance as in spying on a political opponent and then orchestrating an attempted coup. Of course we knew this all along, Russian bot style, but now it's out in the open. Heads will seemingly roll.

Like Peter Strzok's, who's apparently about to be indicted for being a traitor, and former White House Counsel Gregory Craig. Craig's a liar, allegedly, and how many others? Comey, McCabe, Brennan, Rosenstein, Clapper, Hillary, Podesta, to name several heavy hitters and to say nothing of their serf underlings.

So exciting, but let's not forget Michael Avenatti, popularly known as "creepy porn lawyer" or "CPL." Do you remember when CPL was riding high, running 2020 and representing Stormy? Now CPL's looking at 335 years for tax dodging, money laundering and downright theft. They even took his private jet. 

Such tragedy, but we have to ask and it's an overarching question, has SATAN discarded its toys? Speaking of which, don't forget Juicy Smollet.

Your Old Mate,

LSP

Event Horizon 2020

Here at the Compound we call this art "Event Horizon 2020."

Powerful, right?

LSP

Do Aliens Live Among Us?

Are space creatures from another planet alive and well and living among us, hiding in plain sight? Here's a small sample:

Maxine Waters, faked-up, corrupt civil rights buffoon, or space alien from the Clown Nebula?

America's favorite hands-on uncle or weirdly creepy ET?

Looks like a clergyperson, xenologists say Grey.

Another Reverend, or would that be a Planet Tawana Reptilian?

Some argue traitorous NWO, Illuminati, Bankster Cabal earth woman, others think differently.

Are these human beings, earth persons in positions of power and influence, or space creatures from another planet?

You decide,

LSP

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