LINDA G - SERIOUS CALL FOR HELP

Our friend and fellow blogger, Linda G, lost her home to a tornado on Wednesday. Adrienne has set up a GoFundMe page to help her family out.

Linda's home was a 150 year old farmhouse which didn't qualify for insurance. So let's help. She is a veteran, a faithful Christian and a goodhearted gentlewoman. To help this good woman and her family go here:

LindaGoFundMe

And you know what the Epistle says, "faith without works is dead."

So kick in and help out.

I mean it.

LSP

Bonnie Blue

Dark to Light, 

Your Pal,

LSP

Go On, Unload The Truck

The local food bank was taking delivery of a big shipment this morning so I lent a hand unloading the truck. This meant I had to wear a mask for the first time in this strange and dystopic plague year.

Was the wretched mask necessary, and the curious black latex gloves which went with it? Who knows, they're just a "rule" at the food bank, but a Spyderco Persistence certainly came in handy for taking down boxes. It's my pandemic knife carry and seems right for the season.

Fascinating knives aside, there's a small Americana museum next door to the food bank, I think it's an excuse for someone to store his collection, and part of that means several ancient vehicles rusting in a lot beside the building. 

You can imagine the wonder of their makers at being told America would be shut down and 26 million unemployed in 2020 because of a Chinese Virus.

After a couple of hours the job was done and I headed off to Walmart to get some supplies for an elderly lady who doesn't get out much. You'll be glad to know this included a bottle of red wine, which she likes.

And please say a prayer for Linda G, a frequent commenter on this shallow mind blog. She lost her house to a tornado yesterday but, thank God, is safe and unharmed. 

LL puts it well, "Her comments on her own blog and on this one reflect her inner strength, her faith in God and her towering grace of spirit and love toward all." Well said, Mr. Wolf, and God bless you and give you strength, Linda.

Your Old Friend,

LSP

Walkabout

You know what it's like. There you are in the midst of a pandemic threatening to shut down Western Civ, what's left of it anyway, so whaddya do? 

Go for an armed stroll 'round town at 11 pm to see what's up. Load up and off you go, born to have adventure, sort of thing.

But what was up? Not very much. Flags were flying but the streets were empty. Had a neutron bomb gone off? Would you hit anyone if you fired a canon down the middle of the street? No.

So I strolled about and went to the downtown filling station for Marlboro Lights, then stood in the middle of the road and took photos. There wasn't any traffic, it's all shut down because of China, you see. Not that it's especially very busy ever.

Heading home, First Methodee was all lit up but no one was home and the Meth Shack was getting it on with a "domestic." I sensibly ignored the furor and strolled by, round in the chamber. And that was that, mission accomplished.

Message? If you're going walkabout, take a gun.

Best,

LSP

Slave March

Are we a nation of slaves or free men? Serfs and peons ruled over by bought and paid for hypocritical, canting, lying, Subzero fridge, Millionaire Socialist shills? Or something else?  Free men, hopefully.

I like this, by the Mikhailovsky Theatre Orchestra. Note Imperial Anthem from 6:06 and 9:22.

Busy livin' the dream,

LSP

Happy Birthday Ma'am

She was 21 at the time and swore to serve her people. She is 94 now and has upheld and lived by that oath. Your Highness, happy birthday.

God Save The Queen.

LSP

Ready To Rumble

The phone rang. "Hello?" Short silence, then, "We're marching on the state capital, had enough of this BS. Sonofabitch, time to break the law."

Hey, right on, but I urged caution, to be honest. As in, "Sure, maybe this thing's being leveraged by the Party of Satan to bring down 45 but still, don't get sick, right?" That aside, militias might want to think twice about even thinking of going up against the Guard. 

The Monkey, and I tell you, he's a fearsome beast, ain't layin' odds on the outcome, what? So gentlemen, fight smart. Maybe wait 'til the Guard is you. Maybe that way win the firefight if it gets that far which it better not. Just a thought and Devil take the hindmost.

Loading mags and cleaning weapons,

LSP

Satan's Vatican Pay Back

President Trump's announced that Harvard will have to pay back the $9 million it's received as part of the stimulus package supposed to help small businesses hit by the Chinese Plague.

Notoriously known as Satan's Vatican, Harvard took the money under the PPP (Paycheck Protection Program) that's geared towards businesses with 500 or fewer employees. But Satan's Vatican has an astounding endowment of over $40 billion. Hardly likely Harvard's paycheck's in need of protection and yes, Satan is the Father of Lies.

Keen-eyed readers will remember that Harvard was all set to host a Satanic Black Mass in 2014 under the guise of performance art, but had to move the devil ritual off-site due to protests. Maybe the Kremlin on the Charles should pay more than $9 million back to America.

After all, don't they believe in the redistribution of wealth? Speaking of which, Hussein Obama went to Harvard, just in case you've forgotten.

Out Demons Out,

LSP

Lay Down

Well good Lord, it's all goin' on! Smash the NWO. Note, "no rule."

Cheers,

LSP

Spirit Of The Age

Well, well. Your android replica's playing up again but hey, Spirit of the Age.

Your Old Friend,

LSP

Fishing The Pandemic

So what's it like to fish in the scyfy dystopia that is our new normal? Good question, and rather than rely on some kind of "news" channel I went to the lake to find out for myself.

First up, Soldiers Bluff wasn't an option, "Park Closed," said the sign. Undaunted, I made my way to the other side of the dam. Another fail, you could get there but the pier was shut, blocked off by police tape. 

You Can't Fish Here. Thanks, China.

Thanks a lot, China, I was looking forward to fishing the pool, but no. I stared out at the mighty Brazos, streaming its way towards Waco, Houston and the sea under a big Texan sky. Would the ChiCom Plague, this Pandemic, defeat the expedition? 

Wytche Way?

No, it would not, so I drove to the marina, which wasn't blocked off by police tape and threatening signs. Boating's still allowed you see, at least here, and I set up on the pier and fished away. It was slow going and then, just as I was getting ready to pack it in for a bad game of soldiers something took the hook.

Get A Haircut Hippy. Oh, You Can't. Good Work, China

Bam! Rod double, line out action as a monster, maybe a shark, took the bait and ran with it, and run it did, right around the cleaning station. Diving, pulling, thrashing action and I was hoping for a big cat but up came a Leviathan Carp Buffalo. 

China Eats Carp  Buffalo. I Don't. Back You Go

A passing fish head helped me pull the beast out. "Well lookit that," exclaimed my gap-toothed new pal as we looked in wonder at the Carp Buffalo, "They'd be all over that in Russia. On a light little rod too. I reckon I'll just fish this here pier for a few minutes."

The Compound

The prehistorically scaled Carp Buffalo went back to fight again another day and I went back to the Compound in the sun, mission accomplished. So what's it like to fish the Pandemic? Not bad at all.

Tight Lines,

LSP

Low Sunday 2020

Our Orthodox friends are celebrating Easter but for us in the West it's Low Sunday, and it sure started off ominously with low, dark clouds, thunder and the threat of torrential rain. I liked that, it seemed apt, celebrate the Mass in a storm. But the rain held off and the Sacrifice was offered on the church steps of Mission #1 with the people pulling up to the curb for the service. 

Good result, and I'll wager the only "public worship" being offered in this small bucolic farming community on Sunday, or any other day. Of course in England and some US states it'd be banned because it's so very much more dangerous than going to Walmart. Well, that's risky at the best of times, to be fair.

Mission #2 was a bit more advanced, we worshiped God in the car park and everyone stood by their rigs with facemasks. But I'm not sure why they did. How would wearing a facemask, when you're a sturdy 10 feet away from anyone else, protect you from the Red Death? Far more likely to infect yourself with and from the wretched mask. 

Whatever, it was a blessed event and I bellowed out the Mass and a short homily on the reality of the resurrection. Christ's victory was real and it's real for us too because he lives in us and we in him. So be firm, unshakable, rejoice and have hope because in Christ death and the grave have no power over us. DFTR, when you think about it.

Homiletics aside, the sun came out for the Domine non sum dignus (Lord I am not worthy) as I turned and faced the car park massive with the Body of Christ. In that moment, heaven shone on silver and the veil between the worlds was slim.

God bless,

LSP