Hey now
Everyone knows how the money laundering scheme in the Ukraine will rake in billions for our beloved Elite Overlords. But what about you, the pitiful serf? Here's a helpful infographic:
Yes, you're better off now because you've been taxed moar. And by all means disagree, go right ahead, and get raided at 3 am by our loyal Federal Stasi. Speaking of which, do you remember how the Soviet Union banned prayer in its schools? Not like us, at all. Whatever, go on Great Britain, take one for the team.
All hail our Hellscape Overlords,
LSP
Never a dull moment at the Compound. Today we had Mexicans on the Roof? Why? Because the roof over the church hall was rotten and had to be replaced and the Hernandez crew gave us the best deal. So off they went, crashing and banging and nailing from 0800.
Not that I'm complaining, those boys work hard, for a realistic price and sure enough, they'd removed rotten shingles and laid a new set by end of play. Of course they wanted a check for fiddy percent on completion.
Well, they'll get get that tomorrow morrow morning. And what a good gang, hard working, polite, quick and hey, they got the job done at a good price. Were those boys wearing gold crucifixes? Yes they were, and I like that too.
So here we are, new roof on and all the better for it. Beto, on the other hand, is suffering from MillSoc MonkeyPox. Count your blessings as you find 'em, eh?
Rule Britannia,
LSP
Yes, we're talking about Beto. No so much a politician as a failed faux/mex sandwich. Millionare socialist Beto, net worth $6,667,013, is sick with a bacterial infection, monkeypox?, and can't campaign no more.
Far-sighted readers may remember the Kasich, another two-bit sandwich attempt at power. Imagine the scene, there you are in some beastly suburb of Philly, "I'll have a Kasich lite anna Beto, hold the mustard." Checkout stops, a pause, "You wanna discount for your two losers?"
I rest my case,
LSP
No thanks to the beasts, Grant and Sherman. At the checkout counter, "Where you from?" Boy, "10th Mountain." Moment of reflection, "From the North?" Quick as a flash, "You calling me a dam Yankee?" Pause, "Nossir, but he's from England."
He looked at me, full of war, but we were at peace, "That's different," he grinned, and so it was.
Rise up Southron,
LSP
How awesome it is to go green and save the planet! said every infantile 16 year old girl ever. But hey, good call, here's an infographic:
Europe deindustrializes? Hurray! Yes, back to the plow and the furrow. And how ya gonna heat your house? By chopping wood? How very heimat. But it's worth it because Ukraine. Don't get me wrong, by all means go back to hunter gather status but if you do don't complain when the Russkies and ChiComs rule.
Whatever. Curry here at the Compound while we still have electricity, light and meat, chicken. Then we'll go green, just like all those other seaside millionaires on Martha's Vinyard.
Your Eco Friend,
LSP
Trads, try not to scorn me but we use the new-fangled three year lectionary in the missions, which means today's Gospel was Luke 14:1, 7-14. Here, Jesus is at a feast held by a ruler of the pharisees and he gives, on the face of it, a simple warning against pride.
When you're invited to a wedding feast don't go for the seat of honor lest you're cast down in shame to a lower place. Instead, go for the lower place and be invited up. He concludes, "He who exalts himself will be humbled and he who humbles himself will be exalted."
How that must have stung in such exalted company. Woe to you pharisees! You tithe and go for the seats of honor at the synagogue, you make long prayers and while you're at it devour widow's houses. "Ye are as graves," spiritually dead.
We can imagine the dinner party's host shifting uneasily as he's served five star from his slaves, and we can also imagine the Savior holding the man's gaze, eye to eye. The Word pinning the darkness to itself, and of course the pharisee can't complain; God abhors the proud, they are repellent to him, the Law and Prophets make this clear. Our Lady exults, "He has cast down the mighty from their seat and exalted the humble and meek." But why are the proud so egregious in the eyes of God?
Because they're ugly in themselves. "Look at me, I am so very, very important," said the junior British Army officer, fresh out of Sandhurst. to the platoon and the world. I know, a certain arrogance goes with the trade, but still, no one likes that man, not me, not you, not God. Again, pride is the start of sin, a well-head of wickedness. What evil will a proud, self-obsessed, exalted man not commit? More seriously, this deluded, luciferean attitude of heart and mind, of soul, is idolatrous.
The proud man sets himself up against God, he's forgotten "it is he that hath made us and not we ourselves." And therein lies disaster, you cannot go against God, reality itself, and stand. The math doesn't work. What a warning to the pharisees, what a warning to our present age.
Are we not at the xenith, the pyramid peak of rebellion against God? What would the spirit of the age, the zeitgeist look like if was a person? Hideous thought. I tell you, its head would be so swollen with self-importance that it couldn't fit through the door posts of the narrow gate which leads to the marriage feast, to heaven.
Caveat in mind, what a blessing that the people of the missions and all over the world came together in humility to worship God, to adore Christ as their sovereign King and Lord, to hear his revealed Word and be nourished by the Sacrament of the Altar in which we find union with the one perfect sacrifice of our Savior.
May God give us the grace to go out into the world and invite the "maimed, the lame, the blind," all those wounded by sin, to the Feast, to the heavenly banquet, even as we ourselves have been invited by the author and perfecter of our faith.
Ad Maiorem,
LSP

Thanks to Wild I know that legendary war photographer Tim Page has died in his late 70s, may he rest in peace. Page was remarkable for his photography of the SE Asian conflict and I wish I'd met him.
But it wasn't to be, he was doubtless more concerned with other things, like moving to Australia, curiously. Brisbane aside, Page certainly shot the war, respect.
I first heard about him from Michael Herr's psychedelic book Dispatches, which had a deleterious impact on several levels. Regardless, Page's photography was outstanding.
May he rest in peace. In related news, a Gathering of Eagles is scheduled in London Sept/Oct, depending on Whitehall. See you there, Mandarins nothwithstanding, on the steps of St. Paul's.
LSP