Serfs Can't Have This

 

What can we say? The beauty of modern engineering.

What a charger!

RAP Adjustable, too.

Too bad it all sunk beneath the waves of Lake Whitney in a tragic kayak trip. Oh well, win some lose some. Maybe powerful magnets on the end of ropes will bring this custom bad boy up from the depths. In the meanwhile, the Ukraine's recovering from an onslaught of Bono/Edge, Justine Trudeau, Doc Jill, Pelosi and the hideous BoJo clown.

Yes, they're shell shocked. Let's see how this beast shoots.

Your Pal,

LSP

Just Out And About

 

Just strolling

And grilling

Right here in the metrosprawl, where everyone's a citizen of Ukraine, according to the flags. Das Reich AZOV anyone, or is that too Der Bunker?

Cheers,

LSP

Will The Torture Never Stop?

 

"Have we not suffered enough?" sobbed Annalise Kovalenko over the sonic attack, "Please, will this torture never stop?" Kovalenko is just one of many innocent Ukrainians scarred by what appears to be yet another incident of "friendly fire" in the war torn nation, an impromptu gig by Bono and Edge in the Kiev metro.

The number of civilians injured by the Bono-Edge anti-personnel munition is currently unknown but could reach into the 100s. Codenamed PopStar, the aging Bono-Edge is designed to deliver devastating losses on concentrations of troops and material, but clearly missed its target.

This is the latest example of outdated Western military aid gone awry, following Pelosi, Darth-Blinken, BoJo, DocJill and RainbowJustine "smart" bombs landing on Ukraine's capital city. Here at the Compound we have to ask, what next, the ancient Geldof submunition? 

And perhaps cynically, are we deliberately depleting our outdated military stockpiles with a view to replenishment and profit, all at the expense of Kiev and its people?

Sunday Bloody Sunday,

LSP

Mother's Day

 

Respect, love and joy to our mothers, not least the great Mother of God, Mary most holy. Here's a prayer:

Hail, holy Queen, Mother of mercy, hail, our life, our sweetness and our hope. To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve: to thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this vale of tears. Turn then, most gracious Advocate, thine eyes of mercy toward us, and after this our exile, show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus, O merciful, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary! Amen.

And in the better and martial Latin:

Salve, Regina, mater misericordiae:

Vita, dulcedo, et spes nostra, salve.

Ad te clamamus, exsules, filii Hevae.

Ad te suspiramus, gementes et flentes

in hac lacrimarum valle.

Eia ergo, Advocata nostra,

illos tuos misericordes oculos

ad nos converte.

Et Iesum, benedictum fructum ventris tui,

nobis, post hoc exsilium ostende.

O clemens: O pia: O dulcis

Virgo Maria.

To Motherhood, life and the Blessed Virgin,

LSP

1918 or 2022?

 

What is this, a colorized shot of the Western Front in 1918?

No, gentle readers, it's Popasnaya 2022.

A strategic height in the Donbas salient, Chechen and DPR troops spent several weeks taking the town with the help of round the clock bombardment.

The Ukrainians had 8 years to fortify this position and did, turning it into a maze of bunkers, tunnels and trenches. You can imagine the ferocity of the fighting. Similar, perhaps, to Japanese positions in the Pacific but more industrial.

That we've come to this, in the 21st century, when we should be enjoying a "peace dividend" brought about by the fall of the Iron Curtain and the Warsaw Pact is appalling. Equally so are the calls for a hot war against Russia, a nuclear conflict which would destroy us and the planet. But what can I say, people who eagerly kill babies in the womb will do anything.

By way of a parting shot, humanitarian aid and war supplies are being sold in the markets of Odessa. No surprise there, more on this anon.

LSP

Asgardia Doggerland

 

A home awaits us beyond the stars, ASGARDIA.

An orbital habitat, one humanity, one unity with overwatch on our native utopia, DOGGERLAND.

Fabled continent risen from the waves, land of myth and legend, what could possibly go wrong?

Never forget, Doggerland is our land.

Ad Astra,

LSP

Gotterdamerung

 

On May 1, 1945, victorious Russian troops hoisted the Red Flag from the Reichstag, the heart of the Third Reich. The day after, Supreme Warlord Adolf Hitler shot himself in a death pact with Eva Braun. Germany surrendered unconditionally on May 5.

Soviet estimates for the battle of Berlin are 81,116 killed/missing and 280,251 wounded, with German casualties as high as 458,080 killed and 479,298 captured. Civilian losses may have been as much as 125,000. These figures are surely high for the German side, but an undoubtedly catastrophic loss of life occurred at the close of this titanic conflict.

Not that anyone cares, but I respect the German Army and soldier of the 1940s, the Deutsche Heere, though their cause was bad. I respect the Russian soldiers too, who took the grisly fight to conclusion.Very brave men, to put it mildly.

May 9 is fast upon us and with it the Russian Victory Parade. Will RF forces achieve significant victory over the weekend? Unlikely. But readers, let's not forget this "rule." It goes like this, do not go to war against Russia. It ends badly, see Napoleon and Der Fuhrer.

Cheers,

LSP

Vesper Light

 

Sunlight gleamed through the window of this humble church, illuminating the temple. What a good way to end Evening Prayer, "Lord now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace according to thy word, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation."

That in mind, here's some insight from Farrer:

From the first moment of its foundation, the Church was hard, clear, visible and firmly knit: nothing mossy about its edges. Its members professed one truth – they would not have risked death for religion, if they had not been convinced of the Gospel. They submitted their lives to the congregation, under the leadership of the ministers whom Christ’s Apostles had given them: if they were judged to have given scandal by their disloyal lives, they accepted penances from the Church, they fasted and wore mourning until they were readmitted to communion. They paid for the upkeep of the poor. They were present every Sunday at the Holy Sacrament: if they were absent, they were assumed to be sick: they were enquired after and the Holy Communion carried to them. Their heathen friends divorced their wives if they were tired of them: the Christians did not. Their heathen friends could make money in any profitable line: the Christians were forbidden a whole list of dishonest or indecent occupations. Their heathen friends rose in the government service: not so the Christians, because of the idolatrous oaths and other ceremonies attached to public office under Caesar. The lines were clear enough, sharp enough and costly enough, which silhouetted the living temple of God against a heathen sky.

This was the Church which Christ’s Apostles built for the honour of God, and if they did not know the mind of Christ, it is useless indeed for you to think that you will ever know it.

The lines were clear enough, sharp enough and costly enough, which silhouetted the living temple of God against a heathen sky. Yes indeed, and guinea on the monkey we're fast coming full circle to that very point.

God bless,

LSP

Cinco De Mayo Apocalypse

 

Rain lashed down as lightning cracked across a darkening sky and thunder rolled across the firmament like massed guns on the Donbas salient. Terrifying. Of course I set up on the porch and braved the elemental power of the storm while the Compound shook and shuddered with each blast of celestial fury. 

Then it was time to head to the kitchen and make coffee, wondering at the day turned to night. Was this the apocalypse, the Eschaton, brought on by our Old Enemy the Weather? Will there be anything left of this small Texan farming community when the waters subside? Discarded weaves, tamale husks, meth bags? Such is the wake of the flood.

Blue Ahab didn't venture an opinion, being unable to speak as well as blind, but he looked in need of a treat or two, delicious Alpo Variety Snaps, which he loves with fierce abandon. "Have these delicious snaps, my furry Bulgakov," I uttered, giving the faithful protector a couple of irresistible chicken flavor dry biscuit things. Yum. 

Doggerland Utopia

At last the storm's subsided, and this part of Texas still stands firm above the waters of chaos. We have not sunk beneath the flood unlike the hapless DOGGERLAND.

Stay Safe,

LSP

Headless Thompson Gunner

 

Hey, it's not Zevon but I call good work, Lauren. All this in re: Bel Air Thompsons which may or may not be semi. Haunting, eh? And just for kix:

Ave C,

LSP

War On

 

A war rages at the Compound. The protagonists?

An exotic duck.

And a ferocious dog, seeking whom he may devour.

You see, what happens here is that the duck flies over the perimeter in search of food and Blue Terminator doesn't take that lying down. No, he advances to contact, slowly, because he's blind. Meanwhile the duck continues, oblivious, until the last moment and then flies away.

Make of this problem farm parable what you will.

Rus in Urbe,

LSP

GUNS - APOLOGY!

Apology! The Thompsons on yesterday's post were not from beleaguered Der Bunker Ukraine, they were from Bel Air. Sorry. That in mind, I've always wanted to go to the gun markets of the NWFP (North West Frontier Province). You can see why, Lewis Guns, to say nothing of anything else. Thanks, RHT, for the VidLink. Nice one. 

Shoot straight,

LSP