What A Good Day!

 

Every day is a good day in the great Republic of Texas, but today was especially good. Mass #1 went well in an early morning kind of way, and the Senior Warden surprised me afterwards, asking, "What're we going to do for the Feast of Mary in August, because we're St. Mary's." I looked at GH and he looked at me, a man of few words.

GH's Dad, Rest in Peace

"The Feast of the Assumption?" I asked, "That's right, August fifteenth, I reckon we should get together for a cookout the day before. Hamburgers."  Easy decision, "Good idea, let's do it."

And so we  have a plan. Just so you know, GH raises Polled Hereford's on the side and is a good man. I've spent many a happy hour shooting pistols with his father (RIP), against hay bale berms and shooting dove in season on their land. Big fun. Setup in a treeline behind some Mojo decoys and wait for the avian acrobats to brave the flak barrage of #8 shot.

Typical Texas Country Pistol Scene

Mass #2 went well too, with lots of kids, a mercifully brief LSP homily on the remarkable, moving, powerful miracle of Jairus' daughter being raised from the dead, maiden, arise, and then an outstanding potluck after the service. Slow cooked ribs, turkey, pulled pork and more sides than you could count. All delicious. Just a really enjoyable country church lunch after a spirited Eucharist.

Then, as everyone was enjoying themselves, the heavens opened and rain shot down with frontier intensity on the parked rigs of the faithful and the baked Texan land. Seriously, it was pretty much zero viz for an hour or two. 

A Random Firearm

It's raining now, though less furiously, and I like that, cools things right off and smells good to boot. You see, sometimes our old adversary The Weather is our friend. But Climate War aside, what a good day.

God Bless,

LSP

Shouldn't Do That

 

Steal an election. Shouldn't do that, just don't do it. Pretend you're for the working poor as you open the border to low paid labor and cause a scamdemic to make yourself even richer. Shouldn't do that either. It's wrong, very wrong. Ship all your industry overseas to fund that beach house. Not ethically sound. At. All. Shouldn't do that. 

Watch your cities turn into urban hellholes while you sit back on the profit, but don't worry, trans bathrooms and gay flags. Big mistake. Shouldn't do that. Kill your babies in the womb in the name of freedom. You most especially shouldn't do that, you utter satans.  

Go on, blame your egregious breach of social contract, of governors to governed, on imaginary third parties and watch, Versailles-style, that illusion come crashing down. 

To put it another way, their chicanery, malfeasance, greed and deceit has within itself the seeds of its own undoing. A house built on sand cannot stand and, when it falls, great will be the fall of it.

So be prepared. Space Rock forever,

LSP

Liars Knaves And Hypocrites

 

Sometimes a picture's worth a thousand words. Did you catch the most popular president figure in the history of popularity telling everyone that they'd need F 15s and nukes to bring down the government?

There's a kind of truth in that, to be fair, which makes us wonder. Why was the unarmed protest earlier this year such a fatal, grievous, evil threat to our great democratic republic. As in, better arrest that 73 year old grandma!

Why? Because it wasn't bought and paid for by our Oligarchical Overlords, like BLM. Message to market. Go against your corporate communist rulers and pay the price, you pathetic serf.

In the meanwhile, nukes and F-15s are selling like hot cakes at sporting stores nationwide.

Kyrie Eleison,

LSP

This And That

 

What's it like in Texas, apart from being like a preheating oven. Answer? It's good. Big sky, trucks, guns and all of that. Also, you get to free-range and shoot with friends on their land. It's just better than the other thing, especially when it's as well set up as JF's range.

That in mind, I drove down the road to the 200 yard line, a bit late to the party, and found young T shooting .17 HMR at a swinging gong in moderately gusting wind. The kid did well, typically scoring at 3 o'clock right at the edge of the bull. "Hold a bit further to your left at 9 '0 clock, young 'un." And he did. Boom. Dead on.

Typical Texan Truck Scene

So that was fun. I mostly spent the time spotting or going for head shots on "Jihad," a large steel silhouette, and blasting away at 25 yards with a Ruger .22 match pistol, complete with red dot. I tell you, watch that dot weave, duck and dive like a drunken man. Hmmmm. Maybe some remedial pistol practice is in order.

In other news, you'll note that America has two main enemies. Viz. The Weather, obviously, and White Supremacy. Such heinous threats, and you know what it's like. There you are, walking down the aisle of your local Walmart when Klansmen surround you. That's right, the Klan itself, and you gasp in dismay at the news of your beachfront home in Martha's Vineyard sinking beneath the waves of glacial meltdown.

Just a Couple of Millionaire Socialist Frauds

Such a threat. That's why the Klan set US cities alight last summer.  Remember Lafayette Square, Baltimore, Portland, Minneapolis, Baltimore, Chicago, New York and on. All that looting, burning and mayhem? Sure you do, and all of it caused by The Weather and extremely dangerous white supremacists.

A Typical Chimp-Out

Said no one ever, apart from our Millionaire Socialist overlords and their willing dupe-shill, NYT reading, Berkley educated, snerk, puppets. What will these clowns do when the revolution turns around and there they are, living on tofu, old New Yorker covers, wearing  a mask and not allowed to leave the country?

Oh, we're already there.

Your Pal,

LSP

Out And About

Redivivus

 

Blue needed a flea pill and I needed to go to the range for remedial off-hand rifle practice. But how could two such very different goals meet as one? Easy, the vet's on the way to the range. So, yummy pill administered, off we went to the shooting gallery. Straight shot, as it were.

To be honest, I hadn't been there in some time, mostly because of the ammo shortage and because I've been able to shoot at JF's setup, which is far more awesome. Still, I like this little 100 yard shoot 'em up. Just you, the guns and the big Texan sky.

A Happy Blue

Blue liked it too, big time, and grinned away as I let a couple of steel turkeys know who was boss with a gas gun, aka deadly assault rifle. Take that, steel enemy. Then, after searching the shooting house for precious brass, we headed back to the Compound via a dolla cheeseburger at McDonalds. Yum, if nothing like a hamburger.

Big Sky. Note Battered Steel

That last bit's tradition. Love it, like it, scorn it, whatever, it's just the way it is. And I tell you this, readers, it felt good to get out in the clean country air of Texas and shoot. Blue agreed, as you can see.

Gun rights,

LSP

RIP Mr. McAfee

 

The infamous, yacht sailing, run from the Feds, multimillionaire tech libertarian is dead, suicided today in a Spanish prison cell following a court approving his extradition to the US for tax fraud. 

Did McAfee kill himself en lieu of spending the rest of his life in solitary supermax? Or did someone reach out and end him, Epstein style? Who knows, but the onetime tech mogul is famously on record saying he would kill himself. He even got a tattoo to prove it:

So what's the deal. Did McAfee owe too much cash to the wrong people or did he have damning evidence that'd come out in a US trial, "discovery," or both? For that matter, who else is involved, the Epstein Island flight list, the Clintons themselves? Surely not our intel agencies, that'd be unthinkable.

Hey, I don't know, being a humble serf of the New World Order, but isn't this the second suicide in so many months? Maybe you remember the guy who reported on Loretta Lynch's  meeting with Kill Clinton on the tarmac. Oops. Time to die. Go against our beneficent Millionaire Socialist rulers at your peril. 

Such Utter Racism

As we ponder this timely message, spare a thought and a prayer for John McAfee. OK, he helped author an annoying software program but made up for it by sailing around the world,  and defying it and its masters. 

I like that. He boosted the Peoples Currency too, and I like that as well.

God bless,

LSP

Life On The Range

 

It was just like the old days. Get up around first light, say Morning Prayer, drink coffee, then load up the rig with guns and head for the range. But this was different, this is JF's range with steel targets and shooting stations at 200, 600 and 1000 yards, all on his family ranch. What a great setup.

The crew were sighting in new Windham Armory AR pistols at 25 yards when I pulled in, and what solid little beasts they were! Good shooters, too. Then an AR rifle topped off with Aimpoint (nice) and a magnifier. 

JF Zeroing Some AR Pistols at 25 yards

After a few test shots to see if the weapon was on, it pretty much was, R went out to 200 yards, the furthest he'd shot, and was amazed to get his final round right in the center of the bull of a steel silhouette. I spotted, "Well done!" 

Behold big rejoicing in R's world. And fair play, not only does the rifle I built work but I can actually shoot it, sort of thing.  Next up, I got on JF's M1A, built from original parts except for the receiver, which is comparatively new and forged by wizards in some mountain fastness. Hey, it shot like a champ with .308 handloads striking gongs with regular authority. Iron sights to boot. I tell you, I want one.

Behold 1940s Awesome

Then, for kicks, a rimfire assault on our steel adversaries. I started off with a Marlin .22 WMR, compensating for an appx 100 yard zero and a moderate right to left wind. You see, at 200 yards the wind's going to blow that pokey if little bullet about, so try and shoot accordingly. 

I did, and the gun did well, with convincing shots in or around the bull. But if the power .22 performed, what about its little brother, a .22LR? With a 100 yard zeroed scope, compensate for bullet drop of around 2', wind, and squeeze the trigger. Then be amazed as the tiny round reaches its intended destination. Thanks, Ruger American.

Not A Ruger American

JF's 1940s match Winchester 52 B(?) with a Unertl scope didn't disappoint either. There it was, Browning match .22 LR filling the orange bull on a 36" plate. What a lot of fun. Would my Ruger American .17 HMR work at the 200 yard range, given the tiny, tiny bullet is liable to be taken up and gusted off target by even moderately big Texan wind? Wow. It worked and I was taken aback. Far less compensation needed than the .22 WMR.  Fast and flat. Awesome little zipper of a round.

200 Yard Line , Zoom in to See Targets on The Berm

Of course it helped to have a good spotter, thanks JF, at every level. And the moral? Get out and shoot under the big sky of Texas, preferably on a friend's land and, note, rimfire at 200 yards is good training for reading the wind at an affordable price. And it's fun, which is what it's all about.

Shoot straight,

LSP

Juke Box Mondays

Here we are, back at Juke Box Mondays with the good ole Grateful Dead. "I love the Dead!" exclaimed no girlfriend ever. And by popular demand, and it's just that, popular demand, here's Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon.

But Jim wants Wanda, so here she is.

And RHT is urgent. Let's hear it for Foreigner.

But what's this?!? Hocus Pocus by Focus?!? Travel back in time and behold the fretboard glory of it all.

Then there's Heart of Glass, which we love. A Lot. Ignore the band.

Cheers, requests open,

LSP

Life Is Good

 

You never quite know what you'll find at the local country Made-in-China-Mart in these uncertain times, apart from everyone having a tattoo regardless of age. It's like some kind of convention of extras from Pirates of the Caribbean.

Buccaneers aside, I checked out the ammo aisle by force of habit. Lo and behold, there were Valu-Paks of .22LR, 20 gauge 8 shot, and a few lonesome boxes of .22 WMR; and all at normal prices. Result. I bought a box of each, per store limit, and drove back to the Compound in high spirits. 

Inspired by this not inconsiderable victory, it seemed right to clean some guns, one gun in particular, a Ruger American .17 HMR. Clean that bolt, LSP, lest the dirty little beast seizes up and fails to fire. Which is a bit of an issue with Ruger's American rimfire line because the manufacturer in its wisdom packed the bolts in grease, which solidifies over time and stops the rifle from working as it should. So sort it out; here's a helpful video, if you're interested. 

That said, let's see how the little beast performs at JF's range tomorrow. We'll be shooting from the 200 yard line, and there's nothing wrong with that. At all.

In the meanwhile, ribs are on the grill and life is good.

Your Friend,

LSP

Well Done Old Girl!

 

Behold the awesome PMK, on her way to meet the simpering, D List, wokevry no-talent Megyxn Markle. Let's zoom in.

Is that a Blackamoor? Well done, old girl! 

Your Old Friend,

LSP

Sunday Message

 

This one's via Dostoevsky to Maikov in 1870:

Exactly the same thing happened in our country: the devils went out of the Russian man and entered into a herd of swine, into the Nechaevs (nihilists)… These are drowned or will be drowned, and the healed man, from whom the devils have departed, sits at the feet of Jesus… And bear this in mind, my dear friend, that a man who loses his people and his national roots also loses faith in his fathers and his God. Well, if you really want to know – this is in essence the theme of my novel [Demons].

Note the seer-like precision of will be drowned. Take heart from that, but know, great will be the fall of it.

Cheers,

LSP

Happy Juneteenth!

 

I don't know how you celebrated Juneteenth or even Kwanza, but here at the Compound it just seemed right to clean a couple of shotguns which had cleverly swum back from their watery grave in the mighty Brazos.

And what filthy beasts they were! You see, it's all very well to have guns but if you don't clean them they don't work, they jam, seize up and fail. Just the other day I watched a friend unleash his Remington 870 on a clay. Boom, smoked it, and then what? 

A Gun

Nothing, the gun failed to extract, and all because the chamber hadn't been cleaned in a years worth of Sundays. Net result? Shell stuck in chamber, gun useless except as Zulu style club. And we all know spear chuckers can be deadly but properly functioning firearms deadlier still, so set about those guns with Juneteenth fervor. Let's see 'em shine, inside and out.

A Juneteenth Angel

And shine they did. Excited, I texted a friend in England who had been in the Army (TA) and he asked if it brought back memories. It did, of course. Weapons cleaning, running, endless shaving and ironing, a Sergeant directing our parade attention to a "Colour" ambling largely along the edge of the Square, "Look at that, boys. Too fat to F***ing fight. Get OFF MY SQUARE. YOU'RE F***ING TILTING IT." 

Another Gun!

"That story," remarked my pal, "has stuck with me, indelibly." And same here, but of course I was there, back in the mists of time. Text convo over, Eduardo tipped up on the porch, he runs a chicken operation behind the Compound and has bad English, "Mi Padre, favor?" he asked, eyeing gleaming shotguns. "Car no good, drive to liquor store?"

Yet Moar Gun

Off we went, and he bought a case of beer for Fathers Day. Well done that man. And with that, all three of you gentle readers, all was well with the world on this great, awesome, holy and wonderful holiday that is... Juneteenth. Gun rights.

Your Pal,

LSP