Time Travel

 

Do you remember the days when we were able to afford meat? Yes, actual meat which we cooked on carbon footprint grills. Perhaps you recall that halcyon time and here at Dallas HQ we dialed back the clock last night to relive them.

After a brief dimensional shudder, a rip in the fabric of space and time, there it was, a grill with two New York strips sizzling above the charcoal.

Quick! Grill those bad boys before the Rainbow Time Cops bust down your door like so many SWAT teams ransacking Mar-a-Lago. Then let those steaks rest as you consider the future you've just escaped, a crazy timeline where America's run by a power mad gerontocracy, the Uniparty.

Can the future be changed by going back in time? And if so, where do we start? Perhaps with General Lee winning the War or Archduke Ferdinand's assassin apprehended before he took the fatal shot which set the end of Western civ in motion. But why stop there.

Portal through to the 11th C, stop the Eastern Schism, perhaps a saint speaks sense, turn the 1st Crusade into an allied operation against the Moslem horde and... Asia Minor would still be Christian, to say nothing of the Bosphorus. 

βασιλική Ἄννα Κομνηνή, Princess Anna Comena would rejoice.

Xαῖρε,

LSP

Prophecy

 

Imagine your Grandson, a citizen of the future, a place of flying cars, massive arcologies and limitless fusion power, a place of peace. He looks up at you innocently and asks, "What was it like, Grand Father? Back in the '20s?" And we look back at the child through hoary eyes, looking back in time.

"Well, son, we had to take a vaccine that wasn't a vaccine. We weren't allowed to leave the country. And there was an election that wasn't an election and we didn't know the difference between a man and a woman. 

"So we sent all our money to a country that used to exist in Eastern Europe to give Raytheon and Lockheed Martin even more money than they already had. They called that country 'Ukraine;' now it's part of Russia, Poland and the Austro-Hungarian Empire. And there was Climate Change, which meant a tax to make us richer even though it made us poorer."

Picture the young 'un scratching his head as he plays with your razor sharp saber, "But, Grandfather, why did they do such a thing?" The innocence of youth! "Because, you see, they were driven insane by the evil spirit, by Satan. Its outward and visible sign, you understand sacraments, was Drag Queen Story Hour."

Seriously, we've sent another billion bucks, yes, a BILLION, to our corrupt Ukrainian satrapy and for why? Because Western Values? Laugh your way to the nearest trans toilet. ROI? Now you're talking, and with it the golden opportunity to carve up Russia itself.

Word to the wise, going to war with Russia has a way of going badly, see Napoleon and Hitler. But perhaps this time will be an exception to the rule because we're led by the great Philosopher Kings of the DC Genius Patrol.

Ad Maiorem Dei Gloriam,

LSP

A Good Sunday

 

After spirited, uplifting Sunday worship we ended up at Fort Hood's training grounds. Well, one of the entrances to the thing, and there it was, big Texas under a big sky and enough space for big Army III Corps to do its not inconsiderable thing, and then some.

The kid's proud to be part of that and fair play to him, I would be too, "Look, dad, this is where we ruck, and check out the 15 yard sight-in ranges, dead on at 300." Several motor pool drive-bys and a pit stop for food later we landed at the home of 57th Expeditionary Signals BN  (Enhanced) and that was that, "Train hard, think positive, fight easy," I offered by way of UKLF inspirational cozy farewell, and was met with a grin.

What a good result and what a good Sunday. The Sacred Mysteries offered, ite missa est, a son fast becoming a man under the watchful and doubtless patient eyes of good Command, thank you NCOs and Officers, and Fort Hood itself. Great result.

Next time I'll visit some of the post's museums, stay tuned.

God bless,

LSP

Alright? Rollright

 

Years ago, whaddya do? Drive out of London for the ROLLRIGHT STONES. Set up with a few tarps, grill venison on ye olde homely fire pit, drink a few Hackney Spritzers and then go to the stones as the Moon waxes full.

And there they were, us and the ancient stones themselves, shining in the silvery light of the moon, so ghostly Selene. Witch way? But no Wild Hunt. No UFOs. No ghosts. No portals to another time and space, or were there? Maybe not so fast.

Mr. Winwood sings about it in his acclaimed song:

Rock on kids,

LSP

Look What Happens

 

You take a short break from mind blogging and lo and behold, war nearly breaks out in Serbia/Kosovo, Azerbeijan/Armenia, Taiwan and, in fact, does on the Gaza Strip. Huh, let that be a warning. 

nice cope, rubbish collar

In other news, something called the "Lambeth Conference" is going on in Canterbury, in which the Anglican Communion reaffirms its commitment to heterosexual marriage but equally affirms its gay provinces which don't. The phrase "utterly useless apostate mountebanks" springs to mind.

Grads

More happily, a young soldier's in the house on a weekend pass. This seems to mean playing FPS (First Person Shooter) games with a Death Metal pal in Calgary on the internet, at great volume. Most annoying, but so much better than other alternatives, let the reader understand. And in fairness, the kid gets up at 0500, runs around and does the soldier thing, which is good.

get outta there

He's good at it too, in a rambunctious, fast charging 22 year old kind of way, and's set to become a Team Leader next month. Well done, kid. He deploys to Africa in April '23 for a year, which I think's a good thing. He'll be working with some interesting people.

random Dubonnet Cat marketing

But that's in the future. Here and now, being in the great state of Texas isn't dissimilar to living in a preheating oven. Character building, what? Blessings on this Feast of the Transfiguration.

Your Old Pal,

LSP

Let's Get Funky

 

Hey now. All hail Detroit and well done, girls.

Cheers,

LSP

Sol Invictus

 

The sun rises over Texas, incandescent, unrelenting, invictus, unconquered. Do we back down and hide, skulking like so many knaves in our air conditioned dens? No, we stride out to meet the challenge, all the way to the nearest Pick 'n Steal.

Sure enough, there's modern age debris strewn across the way. A rubberized glove, some ear defenders, but no weaves, dime bags (right price, Ed?), needles, losing lottery tickets and beat up VIP passes to Taylor Swift gigs. Such is life in this blighted second decade of the Great Reset.

No matter Green New Deal, whoever said life'd be easy? Here's our 81 million vote beloved ruler, Old Joe, whom everyone loves:

Your Very Best Pal,

LSP

Who is Taylor Swift?

 

Smash hit Taylor Swift is a North American super celebrity popstar  worth an estimated net $400 million a year. Maybe that's why she's flew her carbon spewing private jet around the world 170 times this year. She could afford to.

Taylor's smash hit discography includes such genius songs as Look What You Made Me Do, Ostfront, You Belong With Me, Sturmtiger, We Are Never Getting Back Together and so much more. But who is Taylor Swift, apart from being a private jet flying green activist with tight little migraine eyes?

Good question. We, the fans, want and need to know.

Sea of Joy,

LSP

Don't Let Hippies Thieve Your Boat

 

Just a warning, kids. The sun shines, the wind's in the sails, and then what? All these grifting freaks running your boat. No, not a good result. See Jack Parsons and L. Ron Hubbard. And then there's The Whore, remember her?

Not Kamela, we're talking Marjorie Cameron, see OGO Crowley Jack Parsons and L. Ron. Speaking of steal the boat, our very own OctoElite, BaltMafia Pelosi's in Taipei. Just hanging out there in the Hyatt for a night and America, Lady Liberty, heaves a sigh of relief. The ancient SURGEONED WITCH is not here. We thank God.

Unlike China. Sorry, Xi, look what we've had to deal with for the past few decades, now it's your turn. And here she is, the SPEAKER. Try not to puke, gentle readers,

Standby aghast as crony thieving mountebanks pretend to conduct foreign policy, like the risible clown buffoons they are. WWIII?  Let's see. In the meanwhile, soft rainbow power Europe gambled on wind driven solar bathrooms and never having to fight another real war, ever. How's that working out for ya?

The Unicorn, dear friends, is a vicious beast.

Pax,

LSP

In The Second Second Of Forever

 

All hail Bob Calvert, Space Rock Supremo:

In the sixth second of forever

I saw your mouth whispering something I could not hear

In the fifth second of forever

I thought of the vermilion deserts of Mars

The jewelled forests of Venus

In the fourth second of forever

I could remember nothing that I did not love

In the third second of forever

I thought of rain against a window, I thought of the wind

In the second second of forever

I thought of the pair of broken shades lying on the tarmac

In the first and final second of forever

I thought of the long past that had led to now

And never... never... never... never

Space Rock Forever,

LSP 

Total Disaster

 

Saturday morning was great, the leafy glens of old Texas and all of that, no complaints whatsoever. Then disaster struck, like no kidding. The phone, that marvel of handheld computing power rings.

"Hey Dad, my car just exploded, literally exploded."

"Say again?"

"Car exploded."

"Where are you?"

"On I35 at Wintergreen. Firemen here and police."

"You OK?"

"I am, come get me, I'll text the address of the police station."

"On my way."

Off I went down I35 to the precinct at Camp Wisdom Rd. East to RV with the young soldier. He was excited because he was alive, thank God. "Hey kid, good to be picking you up from the right side of the station, eh?" He grinned and showed me photos and videos of his exploded Kia.

Dam. The thing was totaled and he was more than lucky to be alive, no kidding. Apparently he'd been driving down the nightmare expressway that is I35 when he smelled burning and then, boom, an explosive sound from the engine, the vehicle lost power and he managed to glide it onto the verge.

At that point the front of the car was on fire and after bailing out of the death trap the Signalsman retrieved his uniform, laptop and personal possessions from the flaming wreckage. Several minutes later the vehicle exploded.

Well done, boy, and I told him that the angels were most definitely working overtime. We can all imagine vastly worse scenarios. But here's the thing. He needs a new ride and has a liability insurance issue. Solution? 

I upgrade to a new/used fleet One Fiddy and the kid gets the old rig. In the meanwhile, looks like another person's adding their name to the great list of people looking at suing Kia for self-igniting kill cars. Photos to follow.

Moral of the story? Be prepared, this night thy soul may be required of you.  And, of course, don't buy cars which spontaneously ignite. In the meanwhile, the OctoPelosi WMD is threatening Asia. Please Lord, grant us some respite.

Your Pal,

LSP

The Leafy Glens Of Old Texas

 

It's a beautiful summer Saturday morning in North Central Texas, so what do you do? What you always do, stroll down sylvan streets to the Pick 'n Steal, aka "Gas Station" for a cheap coffee refill. As you do, reflect on the trees and the generous wisdom of the people who planted them.

Good to look at? Yes, beauty's important. Allies? For sure, they turn persynkind's ancient enemy, Carbon Dioxide, into life giving Oxygen. Oh yes, our friends in the War on the Weather, but more than this, they give us shade.

Don't laugh, this is important when the sun sears down like an incinerating laser. Step into the shade of a tree and feel the drop in temperature; trees make the oven bearable, and that's partly why they planted them. Not just for good looks or their facility for hanging criminals, but as a natural cooling system.

That in mind, why did the genius patrol who run this place chop down all the trees leading up to the Square? Yes, they left the Hanging Trees standing at the courthouse but pretty much everything else had to go.  Their roots messed up the sidewalk, they claimed. Chop them down.

why do you hate trees, 1st Baptist?

Net result? A sun blasted parade square of concrete on the approach to the halls of justice. Walk it at your peril. Did someone profit off the replacement of beautiful cooling trees with hideously ugly hot concrete? Surely not. 

Stay Frosty,

LSP