Shroedinger's Ginsberg Paradox

Via Dr. Swankenstein:

Are you familiar with Shroedinger's Ginsberg paradox?

The scenario presents a hypothetical Supreme Court Justice that may be simultaneously both alive and dead, a state known as quantum superposition, as a result of being linked to a random subatomic event that may or may not occur.

Good Lord, remember the sound and fury that surrounded Kavanaugh? Magnify that to infinity on Ginsberg's timely demise.

MAGA 2020,

LSP

They're Satanists

Have you been wondering why the Left are People of the Lie, of inchoate rage, fury, spite, deceit and self-contradiction? How they're all about destruction? For example, the Left is 100% in favor of killing babies in the womb and up to and beyond the point of birth, but they call this healthcare. Lies and destruction.

Again, America elected a president the Left didn't like. So they've lied, destroyed and freaked out in revolutionary fervor to the point of attempting to impeach on the basis of no evidence whatsoever. Pitch, froth, foam, lies and derangement under a pretense of the law. 

As with the absurd "Trump is a Russian Spy!" gambit, so too "Trump is a Ukrainian Crime Lord!" Yet more lies and destruction,  to Hell, literally, with our polity. But no wonder, they don't care, they want to destroy it.

The Left hates this country, its religion, its spirit, its people, its history and everything else about it. So they want to destroy it. 45 doesn't, he represents the old America, the America that loves its country,  so a clash is inevitable.

Who will win and to the point, what ultimately drives either side? On the Left we have lies, fury, hatred, destruction, rage, and infanticide. They're the party of infernal, satanic nonsense, in which men are women, murdered babies are healthcare, government control is freedom, taxation is wealth. 

Of course it makes no sense, but sense isn't in it. They've abandoned reason, ask any undergrad if there's such a thing as "truth." En lieu of that, truth, you have force, power and emotion, the ready weapons of the Left, all directed to tearing down and destroying their enemy, what's left of Western civilization. 

Make no mistake, they hate us and the West with all their emotive force, after all, emotion's all they have left; as it was in October 1917 so it is now, they're murderers from the beginning and their Father is Satan. 

45 would do well to align himself lock, stock and barrel with the other side. That in mind, only one side's going to win, and it won't be  the Devil's.

And I may be old but I'll put my gun on the line. Not kidding.

Your Pal,

LSP

Chow Thief

Note the Thieve's Claws

Yes, he may look innocent but this Blue's an inveterate chow thief. Ask LL, who witnessed Blue Voracious steal a delicious fried cherry pie from the Compound's dining room table. Ask Ma LSP, who saw the aftermath of a raid on a couple of fine New York Strips.

Not Innocent

Go right ahead and ask the neighbor's chickens, who mysteriously vanished without trace apart from a few small feathers which somehow, strangely, found their way onto the muzzle of Blue Eschaton. Yes, a chow thief.

What's The Difference Between Hillary And a Ham Sandwich? You Can Indict a Ham Sandwich

And that's why I hesitated to put a tasty ham sandwich on the kitchen counter. Sure enough, a ravenous, unprincipled someone was looking for targets of opportunity. Only to be thwarted by the watchful eye of his Commander-in-Chief. Still, he got a consolation prize in the form of Alpo Variety Snacks. Ahem, yum.

So Close Yet So Far

Speaking of chow thieves, why is LTC. Vindman still working at the White House? For that matter, why's US Navy Secretary Richard Spencer still employed? Or any of the other thieves, crooks, knaves and placeholders responsible for locking up soldiers for killing head-chopping savages.

Your Old Friend,

LSP

Texas Street Walker

The climate changed, yet again, from a balmy Springlike 70 something to freezing wind and rain. It was like being in Aberystwyth instead of Texas, but you know what they say, adopt, adapt, survive. 

That in mind, I pulled on a pair of sturdy G.H. Bass brogues, an Arctic Hardware fleece and a Barbour jacket, maybe label shock alone would scare our enemy the weather into submission, and ventured forth.

I walked past the Methshack, which is suffering because half of the shackers have been evicted. There it was, sitting in the rain behind a semi-urban field which no one's inclined to buy. Who knows, maybe they're waiting for the shack to be cleared before purchasing land to build on and sell.

The Yellow House wasn't looking too good either. It's famous for something, was reinvented as a bed and breakfast, which didn't work, then re-inhabited by crackheads. A friend tried to buy it last year but the deal went south because of craziness. I always ask myself, why would you paint your house yellow? 

Then it was a short patrol through welfare, several shacks, a pleasantly unpaved vista and on to Montes for a late breakfast. Montes is alright and's upped its game lately, with new menus, suspiciously attentive waitresses and an extra dollar on every meal.

I ordered Huevos Rancheros, which was delicious and filling, and pondered their choice of music. Relaxed New Country as opposed to Mexican House/Techno. Curious, they're obviously trying to appeal to someone and sure enough, there were a couple of cowboys getting into the spirit of the thing.

New Country aside, the Fossil Museum was worth a look in and they seem to be getting actual, literal fossils to display to the public. Well done. It used to be a place where someone from the Metrosprawl kept his collection of vintage Cadillacs, and before that the HQ of a filling station chain which stretched to Europe, forgotten now.

Around the corner lies Franklin, broad and wide to accommodate the cotton traffic which was stolen by greed-filled globalists, and home stretch on to the Compound. A short walk, for sure, but the longest I've made since I was catapulted off the back of a mad Arab back in July.

And I tell you, it's good to get moving again, even if on a short patrol around this small Texan country haven.

God bless,

LSP

Expert Impeachment Commentary

Sometimes it's better to put it in song. Thanks, Blondie, for the uplifting infographic.

Rapture,

LSP

Insect Life on Mars?

After analyzing NASA images, Entomologist William Rosser at Ohio University has made the startling claim that life exists on the red planet in the form of "insect-like fauna," which resemble "Terran insects."

"There is apparent diversity among the Martian insect-like fauna," stated Rosser, "which display many features similar to Terran insects that are interpreted as advanced groups - for example, the presence of wings, wing flexion, agile gliding/flight, and variously structured leg elements."

Rosser believes the photos show evidence of carapaces, antennae, insectoid legs and segmented bodies which stand out from the surrounding martian regolith. However others aren't convinced, with an anonymous whistleblower claiming the martian insects are examples of "pareidolia," a phenomenon in which the mind is tricked into seeing something that isn't there:

If you stare at an object long enough and really want it to be something,  your mind starts seeing patterns and images that aren't really there. We call this pareidolia and that's what's happening here, a pudgy chow thief Lieutenant Colonel turns into a space bug. It's a trick of the mind.

Is Rosser right, is there insect life on Mars or do NASA photos simply reveal a corpulent, corrupt, lying, stand on your rank like a fool, traitorous, uniformed bureaucrat? 

You be the judge,

LSP

Edmund King And Martyr

Perhaps you missed it in the clown show circus, shampeachment event but today's the Feast of St. Edmund, King and Martyr. Edmund was King of East Anglia in the second half of the 9th century A.D. 

He was a model ruler who refused to listen to sneaky, lying, perfidious informant spies, focusing his energies instead on the Christian life and fighting the heathen Vikings.

The latter killed him in 870, torturing the martyr king in a failed attempt to make Edmund renounce his faith before shooting him to death with arrows. The King's shrine was established at the abbey church of Bury St. Edmunds, where it remained until the impious monarch Henry VIII destroyed it in a fit of crazed greed.

Here's his Collect:

O God of ineffable tenderness, who didst enable the most blessed King, Edmund, to overcome his enemy by laying down his life for Thy Name, mercifully grant that we, Thy servants, may, by his intercession, overcome and destroy in ourselves the temptations of our old enemy. Through our Lord . . .

St. Edmund, intercede for us against the raging heathen of our times. 

God bless,

LSP

Clinton Foundation Loses Big

Recent tax records show the Clinton Foundation operating at a combined loss of almost $33 million for two years running, 2017 and 2018. That's because contributions to the, ahem, charity plummeted when Hillary was destroyed at the polls by Trump in 2016, dropping from a massive $300 million when she was Secretary of State to a risible $30.7 million in 2018.

Here's a helpful infographic for the visually inclined:

What a disaster and a sad contrast to the whopping $1.1 billion in revenue pulled in by the Clinton Foundation during the Obama presidency. Why the loss, could it be that in the absence of play no one's prepared to pay?

The Clinton Foundation's famous for philanthropy in Haiti and its close friendship with convicted pedophile Jeffrey Epstein, who didn't commit suicide because everyone chokes themselves until their neck bones break.

That aside, we have to ask. In the face of devastating financial loss, will Hillary return to the polls in a crazed bid to set the balance sheet right?

We can but hope,

LSP

Tight Lines

Inspired by tales of trout in the mountain streams of the White Wolf Mine, I drove to the lake in search of fish. Would there be any and if there were, would they bite? Two weighty mysteries to conjure with on the way to a date with piscine destiny.

And at first it seemed as though the answer was negative on both counts. No fish. No bites. Yes, it was all very beautiful, blue sky, autumnal Texan sun reflecting off the water, and all of that, so good for the soul, but where were the fish?

Then, just as I was about to head somewhere else there was a vicious tug on the line, hookset, and whatever was on took off like Trump Train 2020. Rod double, line out, reeling action, especially when the cunning leviathan made a mad bid to dive under the pier. It failed, but only just, and there he was, at last, a mighty catfish.

I hauled the monster up on the dock for a photo op before putting him back in to fight again another day. What a good fish. And there you have it, a short story of aquatic adventure in the Texan countryside and yet another testimony to the power of worms, small hooks and a light rod. Amazed the thing didn't break, to be honest.

Great fun, and a welcome break from staring in slack-jawed consternation at the corruption and malfeasance of our nation's political elite and their lying shills in the media. But that's a different sermon.

Fish on,

LSP

Convention

You know the old saying, "Bishops should be locked up and put in a cage." So true, but there's an exception which proves the rule, Jack Iker, Bishop of Fort Worth. I tell you, I have not served under a better bishop. Professional, uncompromising in the Faith and remarkably pastoral.

That and far more in mind, it was moving to hear Bishop Jack give his last address to the Diocese before retirement at our Convention this weekend. Quite a thing. Regardless, I sat next to an interesting woman at the convention dinner who told me that when it came to religion "she'd seen and heard everything."

A Typical Owl Idol

I thought about this for less than a second and fired back, "You have? What about this. Our local Church of Christ's teaching its members that the Original Sin wasn't Adam and Eve, no, it was Adam and Lillith. You know, the demon. What about that?"

She was confused and wondered where this curious teaching came from. "Perhaps from the Kabbalah, a grimoire or even the OTO." Huh, "What's that?" Well, you get the drift and she glazed over as I explained the reinvention of occult ritual magic under the aegis of Aleister Crowley. Who can blame her?

MAGA 2020

The night finished at the hotel bar with assorted priests, bishops, and clergy, great fun, as was talking with a couple of cowboys. I figured they were with the rodeo but no, just riggers and we swapped tales of horses and broken bones. What a good crew.

Texas

Saturday saw the business of the Convention, which was mercifully brief, and I headed for home via the country route. It was alright.

Free Roger Stone

LSP

Impeach!

Having you been following the goofy impeachment clownshow, in which outraged Democrats accuse the President of brazenly, shamelessly talking with a foreign head of state? And that, OMG, he even asked the Ukrainian Premier to look into possible corruption? Like, really? 

Yes, really. 45 literally asked Volodymyr Zelensky to look into pay-to-play corruption between the US and the Ukraine. What a crook, but who was paying who to play? The Ukrainians were paying top level Democrats, of course.

What a gig it was! Apparently the Bidens, Kerrys, Pelosis, Clintons and who knows who else, seem to have had a generous helping of rich Ukrainian gravy. And they would be still if the most qualified presidential candidate in the history of the world ever hadn't failed so dismally in 2016.

What a total, utter disaster. Solution? Kick off a deep state coup to unseat the lawfully elected Usurper, call it an insurance policy if you like. Then, when the Trump's a Russian Agent maneuver fails like an out of fuel Sopwith Camel, deploy the Trump's a Ukrainian Crime Lord shampeachment gambit. No evidence, no matter, just do it.

When that fails due to a complete absence of any wrongdoing, there's always the tried and tested backstop. That's right, launch Hillary, again.

Yes please,

LSP

Meet The Social Justice Puppies!

Why? Because awesome. Thanks, GWB.

Your Pal,

LSP