It Began to Rain

 

Yes, it's raining as I type this letter from the front, the front of our War Against The Weather (WATW). But unlike Wales, the Republic of Texas allows its citizens to leave their homes and buy things, or just drive around or even walk about outside. 

You can't do that in Wales because buying things, driving, and walking in the land of the leek will give you the China virus and then you'll die, except that you won't. Instead, you have to stay at home and work hard at not killing everyone in your miserable bedsit.

Can't Buy Things in Wales or You'll Die

In other news, the Isle of Wight has apparently become a Mohammedan pirate haven. Just yesterday an oil tanker was hijacked by bloodthirsty corsairs to the east of the mysterious island, forcing the fabled Special Boat Service (SBS) to board and seize the ship. They did so in 7 minutes, quick work by anyone's standard. Well done. Anonymous, if you were in on it, congratulations.

Left: Isle of Wight Pirate Haven. Right: Tanker Captured by Pirates Seen From Pirate Haven

Speaking of anonymous, one reader has questioned the reality of Clown Masses. Is this for real? Is seeing believing or some kind of twisted satire? No, it's all true and plays to the point that clowns have taken over the cathedral. Here, look at this, from from Southwark:

A Typical Worship Scene in Southwark Cathedral

But more on the ecclesial clown phenomena later. In the meanwhile, as warming chili simmers in the pot, I leave you with zombies.

Scary

Be safe, we're all in this together!

Cheers,

LSP

Sunday Night Horror!

Here at the Compound we hope you enjoy this terrifying movie, DON'T GET TRICKED, Who's Behind The Mask? Via 2020TRICK.COM:

Happy Halloween,

LSP

Good and Bad

 

Good and bad? You see, there's a difference. On the one hand there's good and on the other, there's bad. Sometimes the two different things masquerade as the same thing, we see this in politics and also in the church. Here, look at this.

That's the bishop figure of London, pretending to be something good, a bishop, which she doesn't believe in anyway. Bad. And here's a couple of clowns celebrating Yewkrist at Trinity Wall Street.

Sinister, don't you think? Go on, receive unholy communion from the clown; sorry about the children, they don't deserve such abuse. But it doesn't have to be this way. There are alternatives.

You can worship God without blasphemously clowning around. Good. It's been done for a few thousand years and's still going on today. Perhaps you need to search it out, it can be hard to find, but it's there and it's worth it.

I say worth it, maybe you'd prefer something else, something more attune to the spirit of the age, something like this:

Why? Because, you know, wymxn priests are gonna fill the pews. Speaking of which, church attendance in England continues to plummet.

At the time of writing, the number of old wymxn on the venerable Church of England's Bench of Bishops is unknown. 

Your Pal,

LSP

Message to Democrats - Walk Away

 

C'mon man! Do the right thing and walk away. You'll feel better for it, just you wait and see.

Rockn',

LSP

Coyotes

 

President Trump unleashed a storm of indignation and outrage when he stated in last night's presidential debate that children were smuggled into the United States by "coyotes."

“How the hell does a coyote bring a whole human across the border?! Lord-----stop talking,” blasted Georgia State Representative Dar'shun Kendrick on social media.

Other Blue Check celebrities took up the cause, ripping Trump for ignorance and stupidity. 

But here at the Compound we have to ask, do these influencers have no knowledge of basic zoology? Coyotes are very capable of taking children, even infants, across our southern border.

Gingerly, in their teeth.

Fast, at a run!

On their backs.

Fearlessly.

Have these people lost their minds, is someone bribing them to be so incredibly stupid, are they mind-bendingly ignorant, or all of the above? Whatever the case, we want to help, charity demands it. So here's a helpful infographic:

Dogstar,

LSP

Presidential Debate

 

Did you watch Biden's scripted, stumbling, lying, fakey, fraudulent, unconvincing, pathetic, weak, pale, corrupt, inconsequential, China scripted attempt to debate Trump? Remember the sinister Urfa Man? 

Wow, that's your boy, Democrats. To say nothing of Alpha meets Beta.

E Pluribus,

LSP

Love Long Range Shooting

someone else's guns

OK, now that I've experienced the awesome enjoyment of shooting successfully out to 1000 yards I've decided that I love it with a passion and want more of it. The appetite, as it were, has found the thing pleasing and wants to enjoy it. This means getting a long range, precision rifle and associated optics.

Is this amor amicitiae ("the love of friendship" or of willing the good of the other for its own sake) or amor concupiscentiae ("the love of fervent desire," and of a good for the beloved)? Both, surely. You apprehend the beatitude of long range shooting and the good, in this case an awesome rifle, to make it happen. And all because, according to Aquinas, you first love yourself.

In recognizing something's good for you, say long range shooting, you see it as good in itself and want the best for it. Its value is your value and so you give yourself to it, in a movement of the heart and mind which is paradoxically the reverse of egotism. Or something like that, such is love. But what about that gun, eh?

J with a gun

Good question. J came by the manse and I asked his advice, "Maybe I should get one of these out of the box precision guns, like a Ruger or a Bergara or something like that?" His answer was, "No, they don't hang with a custom build. What you've got to do is look out for a used one. You can save hundreds of dollars."

Interesting and I think it bears a means test, which is this. Get a reloading press and associated kit, probably a Rock Chucker, and see if I have the commitment to get into precision ammo. Because if you don't, you probably don't have the commitment to invest in a precision, long range rifle. The shared value or commonality isn't there.

Does that make sense?

Gun Rights,

LSP

Love

 

Love, says the Angelic Doctor compactly, consists in willing the good of another. God is this, in perfection, in himself (1 Jn. 1:18). We see the truth of revelation in the Trinity where Father, Son and Spirit live in an eternal dynamic of infinite love. But what are we to this? 

Nothing in comparison, though we're commanded to love God with all our heart, soul and mind. Where does this take us? To nothingness again, which paradoxically becomes something, namely our true selves. We see the thing casually; the person who forgets themselves in conversation is more entertaining than a faked-up fraud.

I found this helpful, by Peter Kreeft:

Nothing is ours by nature. Our very existence is sheer gift. Think for a moment about the fact that you were created, made out of nothing. If a sculptor gives a block of marble the gift of a fine shape, the shape is a gift, but the marble's existence is not. That is the marble's own. But nothing is our own because we were made out of nothing. Our very existence is a gift from God to no one, for we were not there before he created us. There is no receiver of the gift distinct from the gift itself. We are God's gifts. So the saints are right. If I am nothing, nothing that is mine is anything. Nothing is mine by nature. But one thing is mine by my free choice: the self I giveaway in love. That is the thing even God cannot do for me. It is my choice. Everything I say is mine, is not. But everything I say is yours is mine. When asked which of his many library books he thought he would have in heaven, C.S. Lewis replied, "Only the ones I gave away on earth and never got back." The same is true of our very self. It is like a ball in a game of catch: throw it and it will come back to you; hold onto it and that ends the game.

 

And Farrer as always is beautiful:

Even today, when we pray, the hand of God does somewhat put aside that accursed looking-glass, which each of us holds before him, and which shows each of us our own face. Only the day of judgment will strike the glass for ever from our hands, and leave us nowhere reflected but in the pupils of the eyes of God. And then we shall be cured of our self love, and shall love, without even the power of turning from it, the face that is lovely in itself, the face of God; and passing from the great Begetter to what is begotten by him, we shall see his likeness in his creatures, in angels and in blessed saints; returning at long last the love that has been lavished on us, and reflecting back the light with which we have been illuminated. To that blessed consummation, therefore may he lead all those for whom we pray, he who is love himself, who came to us at Bethlehem, and took us by the hand.

 

Love not hate,

LSP

So Worried About The Election!

 

All worried and pent up? Hey, calm down, relax.

DFTR,

LSP

Walk Like an Egyptian? Grill Like a Chieftain

Like an Egyptian? Well, not really but the catchy jingle ran through my head as I passed the jolly old Meth Shack. It's empty now, sadly, and sits disconsolate, waiting for new tenants. I kept walking.

Meth Shack

All the way to the early voting station, where I stood in line waiting to cast my vote with all the other patriots. Or Bolsheviks. Were there any? Hard to tell but I haven't seen this kind of enthusiasm for an early vote ever.

Typical voters

Speaking of which, early voting data shows a large surge for 45, not least in Texas, and no wonder. The corporate sponsored Democrat Communists have made the killer virus that hardly kills anyone part of their platform. 

Whoa... I think I need one

So guess what, all their people are too scared to get out and vote, the virus will kill us!  And on the other hand, they can't be bothered to go to the polls because the Biden/Kamala ticket's so incredibly rubbish. Who wants to vote for that? Then there's the hugely popular riots. Yeah, what a winner.

Grill

Good electoral strategy, guys. Seriously, who's responsible for the K Street genius PR firm? That in mind, I stood in line and cast my vote against Marxism and the corrupt, opportunist crime families who push this odious ideology.

MAGA

Then it was back to the Compound and its grill. Smoke ensued, meat was added to heat and all was well with the world. Burgers were close to perfect, too.

Gator or would that be Caiman?

Your friendly Old Pal,

LSP

Sunday Vespers

 

Keen-eyed readers of this liturgical mind blog will appreciate the photo of LL standing guard on the summit of his mountainous stronghold, high on the Mogollon Rim. Others may simply enjoy Wishbone Ash, or not. No rule.

But in keeping with Argus' classical theme:

Rare, colourized footage of a member of one of Clodius' political gangs, circa March-May 58 BC. pic.twitter.com/ditN5JPwb0

— Andrew James Sillett (@andrewsillett) October 18, 2020

Rather good, eh? In other news, the religion of peace beheaded a teacher in Paris for daring to show his class a drawmo. The peaceful member of TROP was shot dead by police. 

Here in the US, the seething mass of corruption that is our political elite continues to unfold, don't say laptop, and more seriously, Old NFO has published a moving sermon. Read it here.

Nunc Dimittis,

LSP

Rodeo

Yesterday was a big day. Great shooting enjoyment in the morning and then evening rodeo in Waco. 

OK, it's no fun to drive to Waco but the Extraco venue's a great place to see the event, far better than a massive stadium because you're closer to the action, especially with a ringside view.

Good, too, to be with some of the people who organize the competition, which makes everything more personal. But regardless, I like the excitement of the thing.

So much suspense: will she make that barrel, will he get stomped by a raging bull? Why is that USMC veteran a rodeo clown? How long will he stay on the ferociously bucking horse and will he die if he's thrown off into the arena? And so on.

I tell you, adrenaline's up and at it. And guess what, none of the people there took a knee for the national anthem. They're patriots who do not disrespect the flag. The PRA's very different to, say, the NFL or the NBA and thank God for it. 

All that in mind and more, what a great night out. When I got back to the bucolic haven that is this small rural farming community, my eldest called in from Korea. 

"Hey, dad, what's up?" I told him and learned that he 's fine and enjoying army life. Thank God. But exactly what this entails is a bit of a mystery because he steadfastly refuses to send photos of anything beyond being in the "motor pool." Though I've been told beaches are involved. Hmmm.

Therein lies another post. 

Ride on,

LSP