Non-Human Biologics

 

There's a lot going on right now, all of it important, the worship of God on Sunday, a major war in Eastern Europe, a coup in Niger, room temp semiconductor's and the ongoing Hunter Biden corruption Clown Op. Yes, all of that and more, but have you noticed the UFO thing?

Woodentop

Several former military whistle blowers have testified before Congress to the effect that USGOV has recovered "non-human biologics" from space alien craft. Said one observer:

There was a gasp

"There was definitely a gasp and everyone was definitely a little bit shocked," he said, "when Grusch was talking about non-human biologics." There was a similar response when Grusch later touched on the personal retaliation he suffered, according to the man.

Trailer Trash Grifter

Non-human "biologics." We have those here, apparently, but will we take any action to remove this off-world threat, root and branch? That, punters, remains to be seen.

Ad Astra,

LSP

Recumbent Soldiery

 

The erstwhile Cadet passed NCO School yesterday and spun down I35 from Ft. Hood to visit, tell war stories and celebrate his victory. And celebrate we did, well done boy, you came out in the top 30% of the class of which, curiously, around 30% failed, some 100 people.

gull wing

"Why did they fail?" I asked, "Because they were fat and stupid." It's an issue, apparently. Regardless, we had fun and the dog had fun too, discovering a play towel and a plastic Walmart play bin. What fun. But what goes up must come down and the soldier successfully lay recumbent for much of today. 

Unh Hunh

Not me, off to a men's breakfast at Mission #2 by the lake this morning, what great guys, then Walmart, Tractor Supply Company, and afterwards installing a kindly donated toolbox on the rig in the heat of the blazing sun. 

I tell you, sweat was splashing down upon the bed of the truck like rain on the Sahara as I wrangled with the aluminium thing. Such is the coming Ice Age, sorry, Climate Change, that utterly settled science. Don't say Covid and experimental, mandated mRNA jabs.

typical boots on the ground scene

Regardless, there you have it. Good work on the NCO deal, kid.

Arduus Ad Solem,

LSP

45 Attack Ad

 

Just putting it out there, 

LSP

Do You Trust Our Rulers?

 

Serious question, do you trust beloved rulers, people like Acting Deputy Secretary of State Victoria Nuland? Here, have a look at her before Satan claimed his own:

She progressed to this, proof positive for the outward and physical being a reflection of the inward and spiritual:

Nuland's considered one of the architects of our current proxy war on Russia. You might think this war a very good thing but if so, do you really want to be aligned with Nuland and her friends? 

To put it another way, are you on the side of the Deep State MIC (Military Industrial Complex) and its allies, or not? You know, the very same people who rigged an election against 45 who, weirdly, didn't start any wars.

Your call, readers. And remember, we build, they destroy.

Every time,

LSP

Liturgical Slaughter

 

One of the ways Satan attempts to destroy the Church, the Ark of Salvation, is by deforming its language, the language of worship. We see this clearly in the liturgical revisions of the 1970s and '80s. These were supposed to make the language of corporate prayer available to all and succeeded in turning everyone off.

Why? Because the revisions were rubbish, the language ugly, banal, and unprayable. Here's the modern, ahem, Nunc Dimittis from the 1979 Episcopalien Book of Common Prayer, I believe it's common to the Breviary:

Lord, you now have set your servant free *

to go in peace as you have promised;

For these eyes of mine have seen the Savior, *

whom you have prepared for all the world to see:

A Light to enlighten the nations, *

and the glory of your people Israel.

"These eyes of mine." Well isn't that just dandy, said no one ever who's tried to pray this deformed attack language. Here's the original:

LORD, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, 

* according to thy word.

For mine eyes have seen * thy salvation,

Which thou hast prepared * before the face of all people;

To be a light to lighten the Gentiles, * 

and to be the glory of thy people Israel.

Do you see the difference? One is hideous, the other is beautiful. Satan, punters, does his best to destroy our worship, in this case through language.

Here at the Missions we ignore demonic innovation,

LSP

Just Wandering Around In The Heat

 

One of the things we have to do here is get our vehicles inspected to satisfy some kind of state-driven "emissions testing" or, in other words, a tax. But it's not so onerous, 7 bucks, and while the rig was being checked out I took the opportunity to go walk about, in the heat.

"What's it like downtown," I asked myself, "in the heat?" No trees, for a start. Can't have those, thought the geniuses in charge of our small, bucolic farming community. No, can't have those, let's root them out and award ourselves concrete contracts.

Of course no one walks, how could they, but if they did they'd notice "Glitz and Glamor" is open for business, one of our few shops in the aftermath of asset-stripping. So is Texas Through The Ages, which I think's a kind of dinosaur fossil museum adjunct, nice.

Then there's the Discipline School, which sounds dangerously racy but is, in fact, a regular school room where ill-behaved teenagers have to wear a uniform, chinos and a polo, not speak in class unless spoken to and actually do their schoolwork. Huh, much like "school" as I recall it.

Resisting the urge to declaim on the utter failure of our Marxist controlled, taxpayer funded, fake-as-you-like education system, I wandered over to the old Presbyterian church. It gleamed whitely in the sun and comes complete with a little bandstand/outdoor worship area. Nice.

Next door lies the old courthouse and gaol, complete with iron shutters, a reminder of the days when this town was a notorious den of outlaws, rustlers, thieves, bandits and ne'er do wells. You see, some of these boys had just demobbed from the War and weren't about to give up the fight, in whatever form that took.

Walkabout over and strangely not melted into the sidewalk, I made it back to the shop, "Mr. LSP, truck's passed." Well done, shop, we move onwards and upwards.

Cheers,

LSP

Let's Have it Back

 

Hagia Sophia, Holy Wisdom, towers over Constantinople today, perhaps the most magnificent of Roman buildings, Imperial power set in stone under the sovereignty of Christ. Today this Cathedral overlooking the Bosphorus is a mosque.

Western Christendom, this is on you. You could have rallied to our eastern brothers and beat back the Moslem, barbarian horde. But no, First Crusade outstanding, you took a different path. The result is before us, Islam controls the Bosphorus under NATO aegis and GloboHomo apostasy grips the West.

Let's have that back, Hagia Sophia, Ἁγία Σοφία, and tell me, which Christian army's going to take it? The British, French, Germans, US and GloboHomo? Or some other force. Stand against that, when it comes and it will, at your peril.

Russia, you'll have noticed, has banned trans surgery.

 Άγιος,

LSP

The Office - A Short Wednesday Homily

 

The Office? No, not the excellent British comedy series which was hard to watch on account of its cringe making realism but rather the daily duty of prayer. St. Benedict of Nursia broke this up into eight periods: Matins or Vigils, Lauds, Prime, Terce, Sext, None, Vespers, and Compline, thus sanctifying the day on into the night.

In the Anglican world, the wicked if skillful liturgist Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Cranmer, conflated these into the twofold Office of Morning and Evening Prayer. It's solid stuff, especially in the language of the old prayer book (1928) as opposed to the horrific, banal, unsayable modern language variants cooked up by expert liturgists in the 1970s and beyond.

SSH Chapel, my old place

That said, consider the benefit of a set order of prayer, canticles, and readings from the psalms and the Old and New Testaments; every day, morning and evening. Not only does this free the person at prayer from having to cook it all up themselves, which tends to mean they don't, but also unites them to the common, daily, prayer of the Church.

Back to Cranmer, who was burned at the stake in Oxford for being a wicked heretic. Perhaps he was, but I'd argue he did a masterful work of making Benedict's Monastic Office accessible to the laity. Bold call: Look here, laic, you too can sanctify the day as well as priests and religious, provided of course that you can read. 

SSH High Altar, well done RW for bringing it back and so much more

And that's just it, provided you can read. This, punters, is at something of a premium right about now and forces the question: As we sink into barbarism, and we are, will the Church keep the light of civilization burning in the encroaching darkness? She's done so before and I'll wager she'll do so again.

We had five souls at Evening Prayer today in this small garrison style Mission we call the Compound, and there we were, praying with the Church, the Mystical Body of Christ, Mystici Corporis Christi, and you know what? The gates of hell shall not prevail.

God bless you all,

LSP

Wolf Man - Vril

 

I am the Wolfman?  No. That would be LL, under skies heavy with snows my eyes are convex lenses of ebony embedded in amber. 

Well, damme, someone's got to do it, what? Then there's the long-haired Vril. Seriously, Maria, Sigrun, Taut et al believed their beautiful long hair served as an antenna for aliens from Aldebaran, Tau Ceti. That's right, star children. 

Child of God? Are you sure, as opposed to Child of Satan? Guinea on the monkey and twice as fast. Joni, we all warned you. 

OK, translate the above as you will. But what about Vril power and the coming race?

Maria Orsic forever,

LSP

PS. Remember, punters, Jack Parsons, JPL, was a protege of Aleisteir Crowley. Like no kidding.

The Feast Of St. James The Apostle Matamoros

 

Today's the Feast of St. James the Greater, brother of St. John. He was beheaded on the orders of King Herod Agrippa around 42 A.D. and is thee patron saint of equestrians, soldiers and Spain. Here's a prayer:

GRANT, O merciful God, that, as thine holy Apostle Saint James, leaving his father and all that he had, without delay was obedient unto the calling of thy Son Jesus Christ, and followed him; so we, forsaking all worldly and carnal affections, may be evermore ready to follow thy holy commandments; through the same Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

 

According to legend St. James was buried in Spain and gave supernatural aid to the Christian army at Clavijo, defeating the Moslem Moors:

During the Battle of Clavijo, it is said that Saint James the Great miraculously appeared to provide assistance to an outnumbered Spanish Christian army, helping them gain victory against the Moors who had started their conquest of Hispania in AD 711. The battle is placed between AD 834 and 844, about 800 years after the death of St James the Greater. According to legend, Saint James, appeared as a warrior on a white horse amidst the Spanish army, wielding a white banner. Upon seeing him, the Christian army cried out “¡Dios ayuda a Santiago!” which translates to “God save St. James!” It is believed that more than 5,000 Moors were killed during the battle, earning St James the title Matamoros or “Moor-slayer”.

 

¡Dios ayuda a Santiago!

LSP

Are You A Burner?

 

Burning Man's coming up, punters, in just a few weeks. So we have to ask, what sort of Burner would you be? OK, I know only a few of us could begin to afford the huge cost of this elite hippy desert extravaganza or even want to go, but say you could.

Perhaps you would be a Flying Circus hippy.

A Running Swine hippy?

Maybe a Space Reich hippy by a dying tree.

Or just a simple Dome Head.

Then there's always the cowboy option.

down to earth, what?

Here at the Compound we like the cowboy track, allied with Safari Expedition: Tents, rifles, Pimms, Coronation Chicken et al. Then, when the wealthy zombified art hippies are shuffling to the denouement of their freak fayre, a giant burning man, we drop the boom. Recollected readers will remember the film.

Be careful out there,

LSP

What Do You Want To Be When You Grow Up?

 

Oh my, serious question. What do you want to be like, a beautiful trans rainbow unicorn or something else? Like, maybe, Pinochet? Hey, your call and here's some homework:

What a wise child! A young defender of freedom against the Marxist scourge which would chemically and surgically castrate him in the name of freedom. I say again, we're fighting against utter insanic iniquity. Really, your boy is a girl? Good call, let's get her to the surgeons to realize that dream. Then she'll be sane... or not, but there will be profit.

Though not her's, she'll have to live with a lifetime of Big Pharma medication and a 40%+ tendency to kill itself. And all in the name of freedom. Good work, satanic rainbow genius patrol.

I call Satan,

LSP