Parable of the Sower

I've been reflecting on the Parable of the Sower in Matthew 13 because it's the Gospel for Sunday in our newfangled, confusing, tripartite lectionary. We all know the story and how it illustrates the four different conditions of human heart or soul upon which the Word falls. 

But consider this, from Gerard Manly Hopkins:

Although the letter said
On thistles that men look not grapes to gather,
I read the story rather
How soldiers platting thorns around Christ’s Head
Grapes grew and drops of wine were shed.

Though when the sower sowed,
The wingèd fowls took part, part fell in thorn,
And never turned to corn,
Part found no root upon the flinty road—
Christ at all hazards fruit hath shewed.

From wastes of rock He brings
Food for five thousand: on the thorns He shed
Grains from His drooping Head;
And would not have that legion of winged things
Bear Him to heaven on easeful wings.

Christ, in Himself, transforms and redeems our fallen nature, turning hard, rocky, thorn-choked ground into abundant life. He invites us to share in this victory; God grant us the humility to enter into compassion and life, to repent.

Your Ancient Friend,

LSP

Eat A Peach - Cooking With LSP

There you are, in the midst of an Agenda 21, Kalergi replacement project when one of the the test subjects asks if you'd like some peaches. "Sure, that'd be great," and there they were, thanks to Eduardo and Maria, a basket of wild fruit. What to do?

Not tender enough to eat, so boil 'em up, blanche with ice water, remove skins, or not, and slice those peaches up. Then add a few tablespoons of brown sugar, flour and lemon juice to the mix. Bring to a boil and set the fruity thing aside.

In the meanwhile, combine 1 cup of flour, 3/4 of a cup of light brown sugar, cinnamon and a lot of butter, a stick (8 Tbls). Mix it up with your fingers until the thing's crumbly but clings together. This is your "crumble" or "topping" or whatever, it's not like there's some kind of weird rule.

Congratulate yourself on this achievement and watch Geobbels on BitChute. How could he have been such a monster as to kill his beautiful children? Same applies to you, Magda. Well, there's a special place in Hell for those who kill children, but let's not dwell on the infernal logic of the Pit.

Instead, put the beast in the oven for around 40 minutes at #375, take it out, let it cool for a bit and then, fall on your scoff like a warrior. Don't be shy, soldiers.

Your Ally,

LSP

Dance Music

The French and the Germans thought they could attack and defeat this, in their conceited pride. Whatever, this infovideo only increases from awesome to awesome.

Crush the globalist snake under heel.

It's OK to be white,

LSP

PS. Note Boat.

The Ghost Of Robert E. Lee

What country would erect statues to defeated generals? There's a civil war genius to it, and we're losing that to some weird zero-sum, anarcho-marxist power play. 

Remember, commies, zero-sum works both ways. And get this, we know how to shoot unlike, say, Wakanda.

Lion King,

LSP

Jine The Cavalry

I can post this because I can, actually, ride hell for leather and twice as fast. Well, at least until a Mad Arab kicked me off her back a year ago tomorrow. 

But seriously, one of my best memories of the last decade is running a horse through a Texan field, right through the silvery light of the moon. One heckuvva thing, man and beast, at one, and fast as you like. 

Now, imagine that run in the face of fire. No small matter, and while I scorn historical re-enactors as curiously insane, "Look, crazy people!", I respect our forebears; dam straight. 

Btw, Lspboro raised a Cav Brigade in the war against Northern aggression, Parson's Brigade, no foolin. 

Down with the Eagle, up with the Cross.

Deo Vindice,

LSP 

A Presidential Sunday Homily

The lying, hypocritical, venal, duplicitous, malfeasant, smug, corrupt media say this sermon's "dark" and "divisive." No it's not, it's awesome and calls out out evil while appealing to the good. But perhaps you think a President being patriotic is somehow bad?

If so, you're a right fool. Speak to the Monkey and stop being a useless, self-loathing, pathetic ComSymp lib.

1776,

LSP

Sword Interlude

Deal with this as you may,

LSP

Putin Mocks Pathetic Gay Rainbow

Just to make your Independence Day joy complete, Russian strongman Vladimir Putin poured thinly veiled scorn on the US Embassy in Moscow's pathetically gay rainbow flag.

'Who works in this building?' Putin asked the speaker, Senator Alexei Pushkov, to be told 'Americans.' 

'Let them celebrate. They've shown a certain something about the people who work there,' he added with a smile.

Yes, Putin is awesome and quite possibly the New Constantine.

Cheers,

LSP

Happy Independence Day!

By some miracle, Independence Day in Lspland hasn't been cancelled. This means firing up the grill and getting a couple of steaks out of the fridge and ready for action. In the meanwhile, here's a prayer:

O ETERNAL God, through whose mighty power our fathers won their liberties of old; Grant, we beseech thee, that we and all the people of this land may have grace to maintain these liberties in righteousness and peace; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

God bless, have fun,

LSP

Dallas After Midnight

Your Friend,

LSP

A Stroll To The Shop

The day dawned, with an already fierce sun rising above the treeline, a portent of heat to come. Undaunted, resolute, I loaded the Blue into the rig and drove to the "shop" to get the truck's indicator lever fixed.

Blue liked the ride, an adventure for him these days, and then we walked back to the Compound through the sylvan streets of old Lspboro. Great exercise for the furred Eschaton and good for me too, furthest I've walked since getting kicked off an Arab a year ago.

Safely back at the security of the Compound, I caught up with email, read the news, pondered the iniquity of Marxism, called up the flock, said the Office on the porch, and generally made myself useful until the "shop" called back, "All ready to go, buddy, $360." 

Pretty much exactly what I'd figured. So, off I strolled through the leafy boulevards of this small farming community to the jolly old "shop."

The sun was already rising high and its heat beginning to bounce and shimmer off the roads, paved and unpaved. It's a fierce climate, no doubt about it, which says something about the country people who live in it. 

A tough crew, for sure, but mostly friendly with it. Maybe that's because of a "we're all in this together against the climate" frontier spirit, sort of thing. 

Perhaps. I walked past the site of our old cotton gin, which closed in the 1950s. Good work, proto-globalist asset-strippers. It's becoming a storage facility for broken AC units and U-haul trucks. 

Around the corner from what used to be industry is a kind of open air market, or Suq. No one steals from it, for some reason, and there it sits, rusting metal under a hot, dry sun.

You can buy round bales too, though I don't, shamefacedly, know the cost. Hey, lotta money in grass and I'm glad it's not my job to shift it on and off the trailer.

A few shacks and an RV at the "shop" later, the mission was accomplished. One bright, shiny and working indicator lever achieved. It felt good to have it working again, though I resented having to unlock the safe and pry out cold, hard cash to pay for the plastic miscreant. Made in China? Better not be, and that's for sure.

Next stop? Walmart, where I have a virtual chapel and the wherewithal to buy steak in honor of the 4th, Independence Day. But what's that line?

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."

Gentlemen and women, you have a Republic if you can keep it.

Your Patriotic Pal,

LSP

Fish On, Commies

Do you feel our nation's at a turning point, a crisis, an existential decision which freedom-loving patriots have to make against God-hating, freedom-despising Marxists? Feels that way, at least to me, so to get some air I went fishing.

Nothing fancy, just the marina on Lake Whitney, and lo and behold, caught a good Bass, a junior Cat, and a handful of Perch. Big fun and I lost count. But all of this action was on a casting rod armed with worms, it produced, obviously.

The second rod was equipped with a Perch head, cast into the depths and left there. I was hoping it'd attract the BIG FISH. You know, leviathan cats, monster bass and on. 

Sure enough, the Perch head magic started to work and the rod twitched, bobbed, went double and on more than a few times. But I didn't close the deal.

In fact, the fish closed the deal, stealing one perch head and one perch tail, leaving the hook to fend for itself. Huh. Next time I'll cut the bait up into smaller chunks, easier for the predatory, cannibalistic fish to get their mouth around.

Is there a moral in this? Quite possibly. Would it be better in a boat? That's another question again.

Your Old Pal,

LSP