An ice cream van, remember those? wends its way through the leafy streets of this bucolic Texan haven. It's a noisy thing and I happen to know it peddles rather more than refreshing ices, maybe the cops will shut it down, please.
Speaking of which, there was a bust outside the Pick 'n Steal (Shamrock filling station) this evening. A couple of Tahoes, lights strobing, a POC with his shorts hanging low cuffed on the back of a beat up Honda, and a "caucasian female" 'splainin' to the Blue. Uh huh.
I didn't stop because I had a Mass to catch but you can imagine the low-level failed heist scenario. Whatev, the PnS is always getting ripped off, maybe the Nepalese who own it need to hire private security.
In related news, our Beloved Leader wants to send $33 BILLION to Ukraine. Leaving aside the knotty question "why do they need the money when they're so clearly, obviously and literally winning" we have to ask. Who benefits from this?
Don't say DC consultancies, firms like Raytheon, corrupt politicians and the whole MIC. No, say freedom loving people everywhere. War, it's said, is a racket and that wouldn't be so bad, perhaps, if it didn't actually kill people.
In the old days leftists were against war, do you remember that?
Your Old Pal,
LSP
One of the things about hippies is they don't wash. But sometimes they get near water and even in it, like a crew of motorcycle hippies chancing it out of Austin who ended up in my friend's stock tank. His Mossberg pump told them to leave, along with the snakes, and they did.
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Speaking of which, the last trailer full of stuff left my friend's (RIP) place today. I tell you, he sure collected and where is all that going now? Hey, you get the sermon. Moral aside or perhaps reinforced, we found his old '60s service dress uniform. Neatly pressed. Respect.
My friend was a member of an experimental US/AUS chopper unit which saw action in Laos and Cambodia. Their motto? Get The Bloody Job Done. And they did. Utter respect. Anyway, we got the job done today and all was good.
A friend, RIP, landed at LAX during the conflict and a hippy punched him in the taxi rank, shrieking "baby killer." He hit that hippy right in the face and a cop came up, "Do you want me to book her for assault?"
Your Best Pal,
LSP
Birds sing and fight ferociously with squirrels, Blue Terminator rests on the kitchen floor, Mex/Latino big bass pounds from the neighbor's compound and it's the second Sunday of Easter. Or the first if you're old skool lectionary.
Lectionary wars aside, here's some Farrer:
THE death and resurrection of Christ draw near to us in this sacrament. The bread is broken - there Christ dies; we receive it as Christ alive - there is his resurrection. It is the typical expression of divine power to make something from nothing. God has made the world where no world was, and God makes life out of death. Such is the God with whom we have to do. We do not come to God for a little help, a little support to our own good intentions. We come to him for resurrection. God will not be asked for a little, he will be asked for all. We reckon ourselves dead, says St. Paul, that we may ask God for a resurrection, not of ourselves, but of Christ in us.
Christ in us, crucified and risen. What can we do but with Thomas, fall down and worship at touching so great a mystery, my Lord and my God! Some call that the most magnificent confession of faith in Gospels.
Pax,
LSP
What beautiful music from the Kiev-Pechersk Lavra. And here we are, on Orthodoxy's Easter Vigil and the Feast of St. George. I won't comment but to say, the Cross leads to the empty tomb and victory over hell, death and Satan. And so Chrysostom:
O death, where is your sting? O Hades, where is your victory? Christ is risen and you are abolished. Christ is risen and the demons are cast down. Christ is risen and the angels rejoice. Christ is risen and life is freed. Christ is risen and the tomb is emptied of the dead: for Christ, being risen from the dead, has become the Leader and Reviver of those who had fallen asleep. To Him be glory and power for ever and ever. Amen.
Bless you all, not least our brothers in the East.
Христос воскресе! Воистину воскресе!
LSP
After the rigors of Holy Week it only seemed right to take a day of rest at family HQ in Dallas. Blue agreed and wasted no time falling to sleep on a Moslem rug, not that he's a Moslem, by the beard of the Prophet, but he does like their rugs.
As do I, but rugs aside you may have noticed something about the soldiers fighting in the Ukraine. There's all sorts, obviously, but some seem more equal than others, they're bigger and older, as if construction worker turned gunfighter.
Shades, when you think on it, of the German veterans who went into the Ardennes, or something like that. Huh. Modern war as deconstruction site and soldiers as its lethal tradesmen and laborers? Respect to both, but still.
Speaking of the Ardennes, imagine you were wandering around inna woods of Ukraine with, say, an SS dagger, just coz, and you were captured by some Chechens. What would you say:
A. I just found it, honest!
B. I'm a battlefield archeologist, my good sir.
C. Give a crisp Seig Heil, sing a verse of Erika and wait to be recruited into the WAGNER PMC?
All options are risky and I'd have gone for unspoken option D. Lose that bad boy before you get captured. Some guy didn't the other day in Mariupol and looked more than a little sheepish. Maybe he's still alive, unlike this unfortunate.
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Seriously, what's with all the NSDAP in Eastern Europe? Well, therein lies another tale.
Mind how you go,
LSP
