Ad Vesperum

Lux

Miserere

Großer Gott, wir loben dich

God bless you all,

LSP

PS. Vastly looking forward to the powerful and needed return of Consistory Courts. Yes, I will take on this burden, with the help of LL as Vicar General.

A Short Sunday Sermon

 

"And Jesus looking upon him loved him, and said to him, “You lack one thing; go, sell what you have, and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” (Mk 10:21) Says Christ to the rich young man, and note, our Savior "loved him." Why? Perhaps because he sought spiritual perfection. 

Regardless, Jesus gives him the key. Be truly righteous, obedient to the Law, and give all that you have for the love of God and neighbor. And then you will have treasure in heaven as you follow Christ to Calvary and from there to eternal life. The man is grieved and walks away, for he had "great possessions."

And so to us; Christ looks down from the Cross in love and asks us to follow him. What holds us back, what earthly store of value locks us into the temporal at the expense of the heavenly? Is it wealth, literal cash with all the things it represents, is that where our heart lies? Remember, sinner, ye cannot serve God and Mammon. Or perhaps it's food, drink and beyond. 

What aspect of the world, the flesh, and by extension the Devil, do we set our hearts on at the expense of life? To cut to the quick, who do we love, ourselves or God.

We must decide, and in that choice, that act of will, lies the difference between Heaven and Hell, life and death, salvation and perdition. I say again, on this choice hangs our eternal destiny.

Choose well, punters, in the power of the Spirit and by the grace of God, so that in following Christ on the way to the Cross we may be raised with and in him to everlasting life. And remember, it's harder for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of Heaven than a camel to pass through the eye of a needle.

Caveat,

LSP

Loadout

 

And That's Just The Start

We've come to this critical part of the evening where we're talking loadout. What can and should you carry when SHTF in an EOTW scenario or even, kyrie, actual warfare. What do you carry and how heavy should it be?

Current US doctrine says something in the region of >100 Lbs, plus water, ammo, helmet, yet more ammo, weapon and all the rest. Very, very heavy. Maybe as heavy as the fighter himself. So there you have all these guys humping at least 100 Lbs of stuff around. Nightmare, you're so heavy you can't operate, to say nothing of no knees in the future.

So whaddya do? Stash the unnecessary kit in a hole somewhere, a "cache," and march on with what you actually need. Point being, take what you need. Maybe that's just an FN and some stupidly short shorts.

All this in mind, no, I did not go running with an 80 Lb load the other day, but I did cook some delicious mac cheese. Yum. Caveat, fall upon your enemies and destroy them utterly.

Travel Light,

LSP

Traffic

 

Why is Texas so awesome? Perhaps because of its light and sky, which point to higher things, a vast frontier with all the freedom therein. That said, I35's a nightmare in the Waco chokehold. Get 'round that by exiting the highway and taking 84 through what's left of town to 6 and rejoining 35 from there. Presto, you've missed the hideous traffic jam.

In other news, the POC who shot up a school in metrosprawl Arlington has been released from jail on a 75k bond, as opposed to the Kenosha Kid who shot 3 skateboard revolutionaries in self-defense and spent months in prison and's on a $2 million bond.  Such systemic white privilege. Don't say whitewashed sepulchers of Pharisaical grift, corruption and malfeasance. 

Speaking of privilege, my eldest's been running around the local park, he's on an incredibly racist Columbus Day weekend pass, with something like 80 Lbs weight, maybe more. "Easy, tiger," I urged with paternal affection, "Don't hurt yourself." But what can I say, the youth of today.

Your Old Friend,

LSP

LEPANTO!

 

We beat back Mohammad's Sea Jihad today, thanks to the miraculous intercession of the Blessed Ever Virgin Mary and her Rosary. A huge victory, and Western civilization was saved against the demonic Moslem horde. Here's some poetry:

White founts falling in the courts of the sun,

And the Soldan of Byzantium is smiling as they run;

There is laughter like the fountains in that face of all men feared,

It stirs the forest darkness, the darkness of his beard,

It curls the blood-red crescent, the crescent of his lips,

For the inmost sea of all the earth is shaken with his ships.

They have dared the white republics up the capes of Italy,

They have dashed the Adriatic round the Lion of the Sea,

And the Pope has cast his arms abroad for agony and loss,

And called the kings of Christendom for swords about the Cross,

The cold queen of England is looking in the glass;

The shadow of the Valois is yawning at the Mass;

From evening isles fantastical rings faint the Spanish gun,

And the Lord upon the Golden Horn is laughing in the sun.

Dim drums throbbing, in the hills half heard,

Where only on a nameless throne a crownless prince has stirred,

Where, risen from a doubtful seat and half attainted stall,

The last knight of Europe takes weapons from the wall,

The last and lingering troubadour to whom the bird has sung,

That once went singing southward when all the world was young,

In that enormous silence, tiny and unafraid,

Comes up along a winding road the noise of the Crusade.

Strong gongs groaning as the guns boom far,

Don John of Austria is going to the war,

Stiff flags straining in the night-blasts cold

In the gloom black-purple, in the glint old-gold,

Torchlight crimson on the copper kettle-drums,

Then the tuckets, then the trumpets, then the cannon, and he comes.

Don John laughing in the brave beard curled,

Spurning of his stirrups like the thrones of all the world,

Holding his head up for a flag of all the free.

Love-light of Spain—hurrah!

Death-light of Africa!

Don John of Austria

Is riding to the sea.

Mahound is in his paradise above the evening star,

(Don John of Austria is going to the war.)

He moves a mighty turban on the timeless houri’s knees,

His turban that is woven of the sunset and the seas.

He shakes the peacock gardens as he rises from his ease,

And he strides among the tree-tops and is taller than the trees,

And his voice through all the garden is a thunder sent to bring

Black Azrael and Ariel and Ammon on the wing.

Giants and the Genii,

Multiplex of wing and eye,

Whose strong obedience broke the sky

When Solomon was king.

They rush in red and purple from the red clouds of the morn,

From temples where the yellow gods shut up their eyes in scorn;

They rise in green robes roaring from the green hells of the sea

Where fallen skies and evil hues and eyeless creatures be;

On them the sea-valves cluster and the grey sea-forests curl,

Splashed with a splendid sickness, the sickness of the pearl;

They swell in sapphire smoke out of the blue cracks of the ground,—

They gather and they wonder and give worship to Mahound.

And he saith, “Break up the mountains where the hermit-folk can hide,

And sift the red and silver sands lest bone of saint abide,

And chase the Giaours flying night and day, not giving rest,

For that which was our trouble comes again out of the west.

We have set the seal of Solomon on all things under sun,

Of knowledge and of sorrow and endurance of things done,

But a noise is in the mountains, in the mountains, and I know

The voice that shook our palaces—four hundred years ago:

It is he that saith not ‘Kismet’; it is he that knows not Fate ;

It is Richard, it is Raymond, it is Godfrey in the gate!

It is he whose loss is laughter when he counts the wager worth,

Put down your feet upon him, that our peace be on the earth.”

For he heard drums groaning and he heard guns jar,

(Don John of Austria is going to the war.)

Sudden and still—hurrah!

Bolt from Iberia!

Don John of Austria

Is gone by Alcalar.

St. Michael’s on his mountain in the sea-roads of the north

(Don John of Austria is girt and going forth.)

Where the grey seas glitter and the sharp tides shift

And the sea folk labour and the red sails lift.

He shakes his lance of iron and he claps his wings of stone;

The noise is gone through Normandy; the noise is gone alone;

The North is full of tangled things and texts and aching eyes

And dead is all the innocence of anger and surprise,

And Christian killeth Christian in a narrow dusty room,

And Christian dreadeth Christ that hath a newer face of doom,

And Christian hateth Mary that God kissed in Galilee,

But Don John of Austria is riding to the sea.

Don John calling through the blast and the eclipse

Crying with the trumpet, with the trumpet of his lips,

Trumpet that sayeth ha!

      Domino gloria!

Don John of Austria

Is shouting to the ships.

King Philip’s in his closet with the Fleece about his neck

(Don John of Austria is armed upon the deck.)

The walls are hung with velvet that is black and soft as sin,

And little dwarfs creep out of it and little dwarfs creep in.

He holds a crystal phial that has colours like the moon,

He touches, and it tingles, and he trembles very soon,

And his face is as a fungus of a leprous white and grey

Like plants in the high houses that are shuttered from the day,

And death is in the phial, and the end of noble work,

But Don John of Austria has fired upon the Turk.

Don John’s hunting, and his hounds have bayed—

Booms away past Italy the rumour of his raid

Gun upon gun, ha! ha!

Gun upon gun, hurrah!

Don John of Austria

Has loosed the cannonade.

The Pope was in his chapel before day or battle broke,

(Don John of Austria is hidden in the smoke.)

The hidden room in man’s house where God sits all the year,

The secret window whence the world looks small and very dear.

He sees as in a mirror on the monstrous twilight sea

The crescent of his cruel ships whose name is mystery;

They fling great shadows foe-wards, making Cross and Castle dark,

They veil the plumèd lions on the galleys of St. Mark;

And above the ships are palaces of brown, black-bearded chiefs,

And below the ships are prisons, where with multitudinous griefs,

Christian captives sick and sunless, all a labouring race repines

Like a race in sunken cities, like a nation in the mines.

They are lost like slaves that sweat, and in the skies of morning hung

The stair-ways of the tallest gods when tyranny was young.

They are countless, voiceless, hopeless as those fallen or fleeing on

Before the high Kings’ horses in the granite of Babylon.

And many a one grows witless in his quiet room in hell

Where a yellow face looks inward through the lattice of his cell,

And he finds his God forgotten, and he seeks no more a sign—

(But Don John of Austria has burst the battle-line!)

Don John pounding from the slaughter-painted poop,

Purpling all the ocean like a bloody pirate’s sloop,

Scarlet running over on the silvers and the golds,

Breaking of the hatches up and bursting of the holds,

Thronging of the thousands up that labour under sea

White for bliss and blind for sun and stunned for liberty.

Vivat Hispania!

Domino Gloria!

Don John of Austria

Has set his people free!

Cervantes on his galley sets the sword back in the sheath

(Don John of Austria rides homeward with a wreath.)

And he sees across a weary land a straggling road in Spain,

Up which a lean and foolish knight forever rides in vain,

And he smiles, but not as Sultans smile, and settles back the blade....

(But Don John of Austria rides home from the Crusade.)

Vivat Hispania! Domino Gloria! Don John of Austria has set his people free! Yes. And let's have Constantinople back. We need the Bosphorus. 

Ave Maria gratia plena,

LSP

Sweet Home

Rock on,

LSP

Oops

 

Vermont has the highest vax rate in the US, with over 69% of its serfs vaxxed up, which is really weird coz the vax vaccinates you from the CCP virus and protects you from it. But it doesn't, so you'd better get the vax to flatten the curve, stop the spread, make Pharma richer, buy your, hahaha, "elected representatives" another mansion and or jet and you, the peasant, another slice of lockdown.

What gets me about the whole thing is how quickly and pretty much without protest, everyone put on their masks and knuckled down. In other news, don't you dare protest Marxist school boards for CRT, because that'd be domestic terr*rism. Just ask the FBLie. 

So how do we sort this out? See LL's helpful post on prison hulks and imagine them, resting at anchor on the Potomac. Beltway Bandits/LCS? Problem, solution.

Your Old Friend,

LSP

Monday Madness

 

I've heard Albertans are fleeing the Province.

Why would that be?

And they're moving to Texas. Yes, the FREE STATE.

Your Pal,

LSP

Sunday Reflection

 

Hope you're all having a beautiful Sunday, worshipping God and having fun. What is it people do here, go out for Sunday brunch? How delicious and I'd enjoy it too but can't because of Mass #2. Oh well.

In other news, it seems China's occupied Bagram AFB, which we abandoned to our frenemies the Taliban. Via Zero:

Months ago, Bagram Air Base became center stage of the calamitous withdrawal of U.S. forces from Afghanistan. Since then, foreign policy experts have opined that it will unveil the next act of that tragedy in welcoming growing Chinese interest in Afghanistan. Now, the page has been seemingly turned onto that chapter. This morning, it appears the next stage of that plan may be unfolding following multiple confirmed reports of planes landing at the airfield across social media and mainstream outlets.

Speaking of which, do you remember our highest ranking general telling the world that he opened backdoor channels with China, promising to inform their leaders of any impending hostile US action? That's right, the same General Milley who instructs junior officers to read books on French pastry cooking while rainbow wondering about "white rage." What. A. Traitorous. Old. Fraud.

Milley Center

Chicaney aside, how big, do you think, was this uniformed, bemedalled, mountebank's pay-off?

Your Old Pal,

LSP

Shattered

 

What! I looked at the phone and it looked at me, broken and shattered like a mute parable of the state of our nation. Seriously, what isn't broken right about now. Our governance, borders, elections, finance, and all that it is to come together as a country; who we are as a nation?

Shattered glass aside, I went into the T Mobile shop to get a fix for the phone I'd foolishly dropped the night before, "I need a new phone, this one's glass is shattered like the state of Union itself."

Bonnie Blue

Of course they could have got right on it but here's the thing, I was invisible to their system, off grid. No kidding, no IMEI, no social, no name, no nothing, the manager wasn't even allowed, by the system, to access my account. "What do you actually do?" he asked, "That," I replied, "is a very good question."

We looked at each other in a moment of understanding. "Look, man, all I want to do is sell you a phone, at the right price." I thought for a moment, "Yes, that's what I want too, we think as one." And we did.

Sure, it took a while, but in that time we talked of late antiquity, the ruins of Rome in the 6th century, Detroit, architecture as a reflection of the soul of a nation and how we're sadly wanting in that regard, and so much more besides.

Probyn

As time went interminably call-center on I amused myself by marching about the store and saluting, Brit style, various icons, images of phones. "Eyes Left!" Quite the drill movement, to say nothing of about turn on the march and let me tell you, all were impressed. As in open order, right dress! Ahem.

Militarist gymnastics over I checked out with a brand new nicely discounted phone, and learned that the manager of the shop's cousin(?) was a Captain and that his store associate had just left Ft. Hood after 4 years of service. 

She told me, "I cried when I left." She loved Ft. Hood and the Army and has serious disabilities to contend with. "I will pray for you," I offered, and meant it wholeheartedly. 

What a good store. I love these people and wish them well. By the left.

Your Old Friend,

LSP

Who Is the Worst US General Ever?

 

Evil Old Fraud

Who's the worst general ever, maybe it's this bemedalled old fraud.

Wicked Old Diversity Fraud

Then there's diversity genius.

What awesome, war-winning commanders we have. Can you imagine how they inspire the troops? They love their leaders, yes, they're prepared to die for them, lay down their lives for their ideal. 

Perhaps they think the troops are stupid,

LSP

The Light Shines

 

We live in a barrage of lies, perhaps as never before. All the more reason to attend to the truth. Here it is, St. John's Prologue, which is said correctly at the end of Mass. Don't forget the genuflexion at the Incarnatus:

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.

The same was in the beginning with God.

All things were made by Him, and without Him was made nothing that was made:

in Him was life, and the life was the Light of men;

and the Light shineth in darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it.

There was a man sent from God, whose name was John.

This man came for a witness, to give testimony of the Light,

that all men might believe through him.

He was not the Light, but was to give testimony of the Light.

That was the true Light, which enlighteneth every man that cometh into this world.

He was in the world, and the world was made by Him,

and the world knew Him not.

He came unto His own, and His own received Him not.

But as many as received Him, He gave them power to be made the sons of God,

to them that believe in His Name,

who are born not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man,

but of God.

AND THE WORD WAS MADE FLESH,

and dwelt among us:

and we saw His glory, the glory as it were of the Only begotten of the Father,

full of grace and truth.

The Light shineth in darkness. And there it is. Go against this at the peril of your immortal soul. And the reverse, of course, is true.

LSP