Ursula von der Leyen Zapfenstreich!

Germany's outgoing Defense Minister Ursula von der Leyen got quite the sendoff  on her way to become President of the European Commission. Look, here's a short video.

This is Ursula Von Der Leyen’s. Leaving bash in Germany. In appreciation of her newly appointed Presidency of the emerging federal EUSSR quango in Brussels. This should send clear warnings to anyone who voted REMAIN ! RETWEET WITH GUSTO !#StandUp4Democracy pic.twitter.com/jsKvYANOVD

— Andrew Henderson (@arhselk) August 21, 2019

I like martial tradition, a lot, but where have we seen this sort of thing before? The "great replacement" might want to take note of precedent. 

That aside, the German military are obviously pleased to see their Defense Minister go, and who can blame them? They've been training with broomsticks, their planes don't fly, their subs don't work, and they have these weird little tents. Hardly good for morale. 

Not to worry, Fatherland, Ursula's taking her, ahem, warlike qualifications to Fortress Europa, where plans are afoot for a grand EU Army.

The world quakes at the dread prospect of the rainbow legion! Except that it doesn't. You see, behind every dark cloud there's a silver lining.

Your Old Friend,

LSP

Greenland? Our Land.

I promise not to do this to Greenland! pic.twitter.com/03DdyVU6HA

— Donald J. Trump (@realDonaldTrump) August 20, 2019

Yes, '45 is an APEX TROLL. Mr. President, that island belongs to US. You see, yet more happy news.

Your Friend,

LSP

Love

Tired of an endless stream of negativity? Maybe Donna will help.

Love,

LSP

Up To Their Old Tricks or Rank Hypocrisy in High Places

As dogs return to their vomit, Harry and Meghan run to their jets

Celebrated royal eco-warriors Harry and Meghan are exhausted from their mission to tell you to save the planet. That's why they climbed on another private jet, again, to visit Elton John's rainbow palace in Nice.

Nice if you can have it, which we don't, but not to worry. "Sir" Elton's promised to pay a "carbon tax" to offset the royal couple's expenditure in fossil fuel. Big sigh of relief. 

Thanks, Elton, and behold your new reality, serfs. A transnational elite flying Gulfstream to visit each other while lecturing you, their slaves, to pay up, pay up, and the pay the game. 

Oh, and by the way, don't you dare accuse a jowly old pop star of being anything other than normal. That's be racist, homophobes.

Hey, don't worry, your city might be a hollowed out, asset-stripped wasteland but at least you, the serf, has access to trans toilets. So everything's rainbow alright. Celebrate that, peons, while your betters climb aboard their Gulf Streams.

Halfhearted rant aside, I'm a loyal servant of the Crown, a Monarchist, the Old Service. Can someone please tell these Green Imposterf that privilege comes with responsibility? Otherwise watch out for pitch forks down the Mall. 

And that, friends, is the very least of it,

LSP

A Curious Tale To Mark The Anniversary Of Woodstock

Here's a short and curious tale to mark the 50th anniversary of Woodstock, the greatest hippy gathering the world has ever known.

It was a hot night in Dallas and the whisky flowed freely on my friend's back porch as we talked of guns, religion, Sergeant Majors, wars and hippies. 

Then the conversation turned personal. TH fixed me in the eye, he'd been a combat diver in Vietnam, a kind of proto SEAL.

"I'd just returned from a mission, it'd been," he paused, "difficult. And got orders to go on leave, so off I went without changing uniform. Out of the jungle and onto the plane.

"Landed in LA, and went outside to get a cab. It was right after Woodstock, and there was this hippy woman, staring, I must have looked a mess. She jabs her finger and calls me a 'baby killer.' What? I couldn't take that at all so I knocked her out, bang. 

"A cop comes over, he'd seen it, and asks, 'Do you want me to book her for assault?' I thought for a moment, no, let it be."

Here endeth the Lesson.

Rest in peace, TH.

LSP

Observations Upon A Dog

Keen-eyed readers of this popular and cosmopolitan mind blog have noticed the startling similarity of the Compound's dog, Blue Monarchist, to Prince Rupert of the Rhine's notorious canine accomplice, Boy.

Feared and hated by Parliamentarians as a devil dog and witch's familiar, Boy, a rare white hunting poodle, was applauded by Royalists for his(?) ability to speak multiple languages, prophecy, make himself and his master impervious to bullets, while wreaking bloody mayhem amongst those who dared offend him. 

All this to say nothing of the dog's preference for stained glass, oriented altars and chanted liturgy. 

Boy infuriated the mutinous, superstitious, killjoy, Christmas-banning Puritans as much as he pleased loyal servants of the Crown, who famously made the dog Sergeant Major General of the British Army. 

Notwithstanding rank or perhaps because of it, Boy chased out of rear echelon captivity to follow his master at the charge, and was shot at Marston Moor. The Royalist cause followed soon after, along with Britain's first and only military dictatorship.

Blue Edgehill, you have been warned.

Spiro Spero,

LSP

Behold The Revolution

Oh no!!! Antifa brought a unicorn. #Portland #PortlandProtest #PortlandProtests pic.twitter.com/BRRUrfIzh3

— Malissa Tormey (@MalissaTormey) August 18, 2019

Beware, readers, of its thudding hooves and goring horn. And with that in mind, behold the state of revolutionary Anarcho/Marxism in Portland, today.

KAG2020,

LSP

Dog Days

It's ferociously hot and Blue Monarchist leads the way, Edgehill's another day. But what about Naseby and Marston Moor I ask him, incredulously. 

By way of answer he sits with loyal expectancy and asks for a treat, as though that, somehow, will stop the New Model Army and advance the last gasp of chivalry. Fond imagining, but he gets one anyway.

Quarter Master over, we went out back with a good view to capturing Banbury, Reading, Oxford, and Bristol. Quite the campaign and devil take the hindmost. Charge and scatter the enemy to the winds!

Needless, Blue No Bishop No King got stuck into the Anabaptist provisions and ate my sister's dog's toy. Typical cavalier ill-discipline, raid the enemy's baggage train in the exuberance of the after-charge. And lose the war. Good work, furhead.

Chagrined, Blue Divine Right Of Kings went prowling in search of Trained Bands to destroy and defeat. Perhaps they were hiding in the cover, in a psalm-singing fit of millenarian expectancy. Good luck with that, Blue Old Service is prowling, seeking whom he may devour.

Not least the advance scouts of the enemy, Chimney Swifts. They're protected by Law, no thanks to Edwardus Coke, and doubly by a sheet of cardboard. Undaunted by pettifogging legal skulduggery, Blue Loyalist stands guard.

As did I, when I could stand. But seriously, as a loyal Son of the Crown and an irregular cavalryman to boot, let's see a bit more Divine Right of Kings and less Satanic Rule of the New World Order.

Vivat,

LSP

Regime Change?

Some say we need to sort out Puerto Rico first. Here at the Compound we say, "Whatever, let's have that island."

Nothing Says Green Like A Gulfstream

Speaking of which, the noted millionaire socialist, Illuminati celebrity couple, Prince Harry and Meghn are back from well needed R&R in Ibiza. You know, 'coz nothing says Green like a Gulfstream.

Come A Long Way From The D List

So what? So a lot. How dare these outrageously rich, and by extension powerful people, be such canting, commie, leftist, elite, champagne SJW hypocrites instead of working to make the world a better place. As in leading instead of goofing off to leftist platitude.

Proles Partying in Ibiza, Spot Harry & Megynn

Which they could do, given their cash, influence and standing. But no, all these Illuminati shills are apparently capable of is turning an anointed monarchy into a laughing stock. That, to me, is outrageous.

Go Green On A Gulfstream

Harry, sort it out, or others will for you.

Regime change?

LSP

Hanging Around

Ultra wealthy sex freak, Pedo Epstein, was found dead in his cell, everyone knows this. He hanged himself, apparently.

Yes, because everyone kneels on the floor of their cell and "hangs" themselves until their neck bones break.

In the meanwhile, where's GHISLAINE?

Just hanging around,

LSP

Feast of the Assumption

Some people think the Assumption's idolatrous, that we're worshiping the Blessed Virgin Mary as some kind of false goddess. Hardly, we're celebrating the holiness that brought salvation, Christ, into the world. 

Holiness in advance of Enoch and Elijah, surely. If they were taken up into heaven, why not Mary, the Mother of God.

Here's a prayer:

WE BESEECH thee, O Lord; mercifully to forgive the sins of thy people; that we, who of ourselves can do nothing that is acceptable unto thee, my be succoured by the intercession of the Mother of thy Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. Who liveth and reigneth with thee.

Have a blessed Feast,

LSP

Just Driving Around In An Oven

"How's it goin' Padre?"

"A bit chilly, what?"

Meaning it's 105* in the shade and Devil take the hindmost. Undaunted by an I'm in a preheating oven kind of feeling, I climbed into the rig and drove to the Pick 'n Steal. Old habits die hard and there, predictably, was First Baptist shining in the sun.

I always wonder if being First translates to Best. Do the First Families of the town go to the  first baptist church in the town? Perhaps they do, though once they would've been Episcopalien. Well, we messed that up.

Whatever, unfold the frame and scoot across the melting asphalt to the Shamrock and the best filling station coffee in town. I tell you, the shop's AC's a welcome relief. How did Texans get by without air conditioning?

Well, they mostly didn't because no one wanted to move here before it happened. Note, Dallas and the associated metrosprawl have only ballooned out of proportion subsequently. Which brings us to shooting.

A few years ago I'd think nothing of getting out in the heat and blasting away for a day in the August sun. 105*? Whatever, pass the ACP and all the rest. Now? Not so much. 

Mind you, I don't have much choice coz the leg's busted. How's that going to work out for September 1 and dove? Set up on a tailgate with a couple of Mojos out front and a 20? 

This, as with so much in life, remains to be seen. In the meanwhile, try not to melt.

God bless,

LSP