Our Town MAGA 2020

"The sun's gone down on my town." Respect to Miss Dement, but that's exactly what we're working to turn around, putting an end to the asset-stripping gutting of our country by a transnational crew of elite Illuminati sociopaths.

The message resonates, which is why 45's filling stadiums and Groper Biden isn't. Look out, Virginia.

Watch my tracer.

MAGA 2020,

LSP

The Baptism of Christ and Other Epiphanies

We celebrate the Baptism of Christ today and find an epiphany, God is a trinity of persons, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. "This is my beloved son," says the Father as Christ rises from the Jordan and the Spirit, like a dove, rests upon him. But what of the baptism?

Jesus, taking sinful humanity on himself descends into the waters only to rise again to the acclaim of the Father, and the heavens are opened to him and the humanity he has assumed. We will see this again as our Lord descends to the dead from Golgotha and rises from the tomb at Easter. So we find another epiphany, Jesus' baptism at the outset of his ministry describes its salvific action. 

No wonder, then, that the Spirit rests on him like the dove over the waters of creation or Noah's dove flying over the flood to dry land. Jesus is the Spirit anointed Messiah who recreates humanity through his passion, death and resurrection, the dry ground in whom we find entry to paradise.

All well and good, but the epiphanies weren't over. I got back to the Compound to find Christmas decorations being taken down and new decorations being put up. There they were, snowperson statues with owls on every table of the church hall. Gifte Shoppe snowperson centerpieces. But why, for what?

"I don't even like snowpersons," said the exhausted tablepiece decorator responsible for these wintry idols. "Why don't you shoot them then," I suggested, "Do you have a gun? No? Don't worry, I've got plenty, bullets too. You can borrow them." She declined, "But I like doing it, parson!" 

The snowpersons and their owls remain, as does the great mystery  and Feast of the Baptism of Jesus in the Jordan.

God bless,

LSP

Wake Of The Flood

Everyone's asking, did this pastoral Texan haven survive last night's sound and fury, did it survive the flood? Yes, by the grace of God it did. 

You could see the after effects of the storm this morning. Pecans and the broken debris of modern life lying in the gutter where they'd been swept by the floods. Want a weave or a styrofoam Whattaburger cup? Take your pick, there's plenty.

Regardless, POCs were scavenging the detritus as I walked Blue Eschaton to the Pick'n Steal. Good for them, big money in pecans. And that was that, we survived yet another raid by our Old Enemy, the Weather on the brave Republic of Texas.

I know, you're cautioning against false complacency. A battle won is not the same as a war won and that, all of you ten readers, is why we're prepared. 

Come and take it,

LSP

Virginia

I was moved by this, via Borepatch:

For every Southern boy fourteen years old, not once but whenever he wants it, there is the instant when it’s still not yet two o’clock on that July afternoon in 1863, the brigades are in position behind the rail fence, the guns are laid and ready in the woods and the furled flags are already loosened to break out and Pickett himself with his long oiled ringlets and his hat in one hand probably and his sword in the other looking up the hill waiting for Longstreet to give the word and it’s all in the balance, it hasn’t happened yet, it hasn’t even begun yet, it not only hasn’t begun yet but there is still time for it not to begin ...

                                  William Faulkner, Intruder In The Dust

Let's hope; deputization in the Old Dominion.

#2A Sic Semper,

LSP

Crazy Storm

Texas is big and so is its weather. When it's hot it's really hot, like an oven. When it storms it really storms and that's what happened tonight. We were at the Four Seasons, no, not that one, this is a different place, the one next to Internet, Sweepstakes, Fun Time, then crash, down came the rain. 

You could hear it pounding on the roof above the stained acoustic tile drop ceiling while sheet lightning lit up the sky beyond the Seasons' barred windows. There it was, our Old Enemy the Weather venting its fury like a thwarted Presidential Candidate falling on Mook with outstretched talons. 

The ride home down a black ribbon of half-submerged asphalt was dramatic enough but uneventful, I took it slow and so did everyone else. Smart, who wants to hydroplane in a near zero viz stormfront?

Still, it was good to get back to the Compound. I set up on the porch as lightning arced across the sky, rain sheeted down and tornado warnings flashed on the phone screen. Thunder's rocking the house now, Elite Hotel's playing on the jukebox.

Will anything be left of this town tomorrow, will it be washed away like so many futile Bloomberg millions in Virginia? Only time, and a new dawn, will tell. 

For now, we stand to, cleaning weapons, sharpening kukris, loading magazines and throwing last year's broken furniture on the fire.

#2A,

LSP

Melania & Satan's Ruby Ring

Here at the Compound we were delighted to receive a Christmas card from America's popular and glamorous First Lady. Thank you, Melania, for the work you do to keep America great and for being a faithful Catholic Christian. 

Are the two synonymous? Surely yes, Christ didn't start anything that wasn't complete.

Our Adversary, on the other hand, marches to the beat of a different drum and loves rubies, ruby rings especially. Have a look:

Satan's jewel crown? Emmylou sings:

God grant you a blessed and peaceful night, White Hats rule this town now.

Victory is assured,

LSP

K9 Genius

Do you get the impression that the Persian business is a kind of political theater? Speaking of which, some idiot savant's declared that America would need a million troops to invade and conquer Iran.

Really? A million soldiers to take out Iran? I put the question to Blue Battlegroup, who replied by way of snatching up a tennis ball and savaging it with his fangs. A message to Tehran, perhaps, which has wisely stood down to the tune of President Trump's message of peace and love.

Some call it the shortest World War in history.

Your Old Friend,

LSP

Rock On

It's all getting very geopolitical, so here's some TS McPhee to accelerate the mood. And while we're reflecting on the genius of early '70s rock, who was it that convinced the Democrats to stand on an "I love Jihad terrorists and hate America" platform?

Oh yeah, that'd be '45. I predict a landslide.

MAGA 2020,

LSP

Epiphany

We celebrate the great Feast of the Epiphany today and with it look to the Magi, the Wise Men, who in turn point to Christ and reveal his nature in their gifts. Gold for Kingship, frankincense for divinity and myrrh for embalming and death. The Christ child is our divine king whose throne is the cross. But what of the Magi themselves?

They were astronomers who followed a star, and some argue this was a supernova, a conjunction of planets or something else again, a miraculous event. Perhaps it was all of these, but the Wise Men were more than  astral calculators, they were "wise," they looked for the truth and they found it, Incarnate, lying in a manger.

I was struck by this, from Pope Benedict XVI:

They were "wise." They represent the inner dynamic of religion toward self-transcendence, which involves a search for truth, a search for the true God and hence "philosophy" in the original sense of the word. Wisdom, then, serves to purify the message of "science": the rationality of that message does not remain at the level of intellectual knowledge, but seeks understanding in its fullness, and so raises reason to its loftiest possibilities.

Loftiest possibilities? Heaven itself and the throne of glory, all to be found in the baby lying under a star in a manger.

God bless you all,

LSP

Greta Awesome - Not So Hot For Quds

Back in Texas and 2020's off to a good start, unless you're boss of the Quds Force & Co.

Stars save the planet.

Rods from God & MAGA 2020,

LSP

Happy New Year!

Here we are on the dawn of a whole new year and I can't complain about the closing days of the last. A pub lunch and darts at the Swan with the boys, an uplifting Solemn High Mass on Sunday, Ordinariate style, and I have to say it was good to see the old place so full of young families and children.

And what trip to Calgary and Inglewood would be complete without visiting Crown Surplus and the militaria shop? The Crown's changed things up a bit and now devotes most of its space to tactical gear, which is great if you're an operator or looking for neat backpacks, knives and tactical accessories for your Glock/Sig. I like the other side of the store more, genuine surplus at OK prices.

The militaria place is alright too, though not as good as it once was before it moved down the street 5 years ago. Still, if you're desperate for a Grenadier Guards tunic or a bust of Hitler it's your shop. I took a couple of pictures and got in trouble, they're afraid of memorabila thieves.

Walking Holly was fun too, she's a rescue dog from the rez, not sure which one, and we get on well. She's vastly excited to go on trips through the frozen wastes and alleyways of this part of Alberta's onetime cow town. And there it is for now, more reflections on the Great White North as they come to mind.

In the meanwhile,

Happy New Year!

LSP

Boxing Day And On To Canada

Christmas day was great, feasting and fun with friends and family, then it was Boxing Day. I strolled over to a diner with the Private for a late and large portioned breakfast, tasty.  And after a well needed re-org we headed to the airport, objective? The Land of The Ice And Snow, aka Canada.

As everyone knows, flying's pretty miserable but our flight worked out well thanks to not one but two upgrades on account of the Private being active military traveling with orders. Good work AA, USO didn't hurt either.

So we ended up in the first two seats of the plane with a bizarre amount of legroom, comp drinks in real glasses, a meal with metal cutlery and all laid on, thank you very much. A bit like flying in the olden days and I tell you, it made the trip to Calgary most congenial.

And there we were, as if faster than you could say Justine Blackface Beta Socks Trudeau, landed at YYC. 

It was good to be back in the Great White North; I like Canada and I especially like Calgary. Stay tuned as this snowy mountain town adventure unfolds.

Merry Christmas,

LSP