Vegas!

 

I've never been to Vegas, the City of Lights, but Ma LSP, BW and Bo have. In fact they're there right now along with a couple of friends. Bo, my middle sister and a Byzantine classicist(?) by education was struck by the imperial grandeur of it all and sent in this photo essay. Here it is, Las Vegas June 2021:

Look, Imperial Rome, at 11 a.m.

Varus, where are my Eagles?

And what fresh hell is this? Ostia?

But note the Eagle and Orb of Imperium, held aloft in a darkening, cerulean sky.

And a homely Tuscan villa.

And Ma LSP enjoying St. Mark's Square. 

Feminae, beware the monstrous bird! Good thing it's not angry. Readers, do you see it, lurking?

But upwards, ascendite! to what? The domus aurea of the desert and the casinos of the Gods. Yes, enter at your peril.

Quod scis et divum Augustum et Tiberium Caesarem ad deos isse.

Quite a thing, eh? Imagine, if you can, looking out on the Eternal City from the Palatine Hill and the wreckage of the palace of the Caesars in, say, the 7th Century AD. 

You'd see a sea of ruins, a city that's declined from over a million people to around 20,000, stricken by plague and war but nonetheless home to the great, holy, Patriarch of the West, Gregory, gens Anicii.

There's a parable here, if you care to draw it,

LSP

Feast of Ss. Peter & Paul

 

It's the Feast of Ss. Peter and Paul today, which is a very great thing. Several verses from the Decora Lux, based on Boethius' wife's 5th century poem, are sung today if you have a Schola, I don't, annoyingly. English translation by Dom Gueranger, OSB:

Aurea luce et decore roseo,
Lux lucis, omne perfudisti sæculum:
decorans cælos inclito martyrio.
Hac sacra die, quæ dat reis veniam.

O Light of light (Jesus), thou hast inundated every age  with a golden light and with a ruddy beauty, adorning the heavens with a glorious martyrdom, on this sacred day, which gives pardon to the guilty.

Janitor cæli, doctor orbis pariter,
Judices sæcli, vera mundi lumina:
Per crucem alter, alter ense triumphans,
Vitæ senatum laureati possident.

The door-keeper of heaven, as also the teacher of the universe, the judges of the world, the true lights of the earth, the one conquering by the cross, the other by the sword, crowned with laurel, both take their seats in the senate of life.

Peter and Paul, pray for us,

LSP

You Miserable Offender

 

Look at this miserable offender. Yes, a burned out front indicator bulb, Sylvania #3157A, which gave up the ghost on the way to Made-in-China-Mart, right as the heavens released a relentless barrage of rain.

Park up, test the turning signal, listen to its ADHT fast click, watch the rain pound down, look up the part on your handheld computing device, and then wade through the flood to the store. Find a replacement bulb, look at empty ammo shelves - who knows, maybe they'll magically fill up if you stare hard enough - and head over to groceries for supplies. After all, a man's gotta eat.

That in mind, it's a very good thing that "man does not live by bread alone" because the price of food's skyrocketed, especially steak. It's around 30% more expensive than it was a year ago; just imagine the price if there was any inflation. Well done, prog-left, corp-sponsored oligarchy, everything's more affordable now because it's way more expensive. Awesome work, Socialists.

Back at the Compound, the downpour slowed to a gentle rain and then stopped, so I took advantage of the lull to swap out the busted bulb. It's not hard on an '08 F150. Pop the hood, reach behind the headlight housing, turn the bulb fixture counterclockwise, pull it out, replace the bulb and return the thing to its rightful place. If the recalcitrant anarchist mutinies, pull the headlight unit and teach the beast who's boss, which I ended up doing, annoyingly.

One working front turn signal light later, it seems only right to celebrate this small but important victory with hamburgers. Steak would be better, but that's too pricey. Thanks a lot, commies.

Cheers,

LSP

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