Seven Stanzas Of Easter

 

Do you read John Updike? I don't, but I do like this:

Make no mistake: if He rose at all

it was as His body;

if the cells’ dissolution did not reverse, the molecules

reknit, the amino acids rekindle,

the Church will fall.

It was not as the flowers,

each soft Spring recurrent;

it was not as His Spirit in the mouths and fuddled

eyes of the eleven apostles;

it was as His flesh: ours.

The same hinged thumbs and toes,

the same valved heart

that–pierced–died, withered, paused, and then

regathered out of enduring Might

new strength to enclose.

Let us not mock God with metaphor,

analogy, sidestepping, transcendence;

making of the event a parable, a sign painted in the

faded credulity of earlier ages:

let us walk through the door.

The stone is rolled back, not papier-mâché,

not a stone in a story,

but the vast rock of materiality that in the slow

grinding of time will eclipse for each of us

the wide light of day.

And if we will have an angel at the tomb,

make it a real angel,

weighty with Max Planck’s quanta, vivid with hair,

opaque in the dawn light, robed in real linen

spun on a definite loom.

Let us not seek to make it less monstrous,

for our own convenience, our own sense of beauty,

lest, awakened in one unthinkable hour, we are

embarrassed by the miracle,

and crushed by remonstrance.

You'll be amused to know my Treasurer, a Vietnam vet artillery captain, forbids the use of simile and metaphor in sermons. "Don't do it," he says, "Or I'll leave." He has a point. Either we believe or we don't, and that's just it.

LSP

Well What Have We Here

 

A morbidly obese oddity who's the size of a Buick, behold Miss Alabama 2024. Let's zoom in on this new kegweight examplar of southern femininity:

Beautiful, isn't it, except it's not, and that's exactly the point. Destroy all objective value, truth itself, and arrive, apotheosis, at existential liberation from the bonds of oppression. Now, with Miss Alabama, wymxn are finally set free from slavery to look good.

Dam straight, you can win a beauty pageant even though you're fat and gross. Good call, ProgLeft, but is anyone fooled. Trot out all the obesity you like and call it beauty and see how far you go. Well, in this instance you'll destroy beauty pageants, in another, the Armed Forces, Judiciary, Press, Academe or the Episcopal Church. But even if the institutions are hollowed out, the truth remains.

spot the odd one out

Beautiful women are still beautiful, brave soldiers are brave regardless of the rainbow flags in their barracks, and on. Point being, you cannot destroy objective value even though you try your damndest to do so. Truth remains truth, regardless of the lies you tell. That in mind, at least Miss Alabama is actually a woman, unlike, say, Miss Maryland.

Your Pal,

LSP

LIARS

 

Do you remember when, what, 51 top US spies told the world that Hunter Biden's crack-whoretop was Russian disinfo, planted by GRU to interfere with our totally free and fair elections? Sure you do. There it was, yet more proof that Trump was and is a Kremlin agent. Fast forward to today.

The venerable crack-whore laptop's telling it's nasty story in a court of law and lo and behold, it wasn't a shameless plant, it's the real deal. Hunter got wasted, a lot, bought a gun illegally, made out with whores, and made a whole lotta cash while he was at it. And at it he was, smoking down that sweet, sweet crack every 20 minutes while raking in the money.

At least that's what his GF at the time says, and why should we doubt her. Maybe Hunter didn't give the poor girl enough money. More seriously, will all the senior spooks who lied and ran election interference in 2020 and beyond be held accountable? 

Don't be stupid, of course they won't. My money, and guinea on the monkey, is no, they will not. Of course we know who their Father is, he was a lying murderer from the beginning.

Still, Your Call,

LSP

D Day

 

 

80 years ago:

 

Almighty God: Our sons, pride of our Nation, this day have set upon a mighty endeavor, a struggle to preserve our Republic, our religion, and our civilization, and to set free a suffering humanity.

Lead them straight and true; give strength to their arms, stoutness to their hearts, steadfastness in their faith.

They will need Thy blessings. Their road will be long and hard. For the enemy is strong. He may hurl back our forces. Success may not come with rushing speed, but we shall return again and again; and we know that by Thy grace, and by the righteousness of our cause, our sons will triumph.

They will be sore tried, by night and by day, without rest-until the victory is won. The darkness will be rent by noise and flame. Men's souls will be shaken with the violence of war.

For these men are lately drawn from the ways of peace. They fight not for the lust of conquest. They fight to end conquest. They fight to liberate. They fight to let justice arise, and tolerance and good will among all Thy people. They yearn but for the end of battle, for their return to the haven of home.

Some will never return. Embrace these, Father, and receive them, Thy heroic servants, into Thy kingdom.

And for us at home -- fathers, mothers, children, wives, sisters, and brothers of brave men overseas -- whose thoughts and prayers are ever with them--help us, Almighty God, to rededicate ourselves in renewed faith in Thee in this hour of great sacrifice.

Many people have urged that I call the Nation into a single day of special prayer. But because the road is long and the desire is great, I ask that our people devote themselves in a continuance of prayer. As we rise to each new day, and again when each day is spent, let words of prayer be on our lips, invoking Thy help to our efforts.

Give us strength, too -- strength in our daily tasks, to redouble the contributions we make in the physical and the material support of our armed forces.

And let our hearts be stout, to wait out the long travail, to bear sorrows that may come, to impart our courage unto our sons wheresoever they may be.

And, O Lord, give us Faith. Give us Faith in Thee; Faith in our sons; Faith in each other; Faith in our united crusade. Let not the keenness of our spirit ever be dulled. Let not the impacts of temporary events, of temporal matters of but fleeting moment let not these deter us in our unconquerable purpose.

With Thy blessing, we shall prevail over the unholy forces of our enemy. Help us to conquer the apostles of greed and racial arrogancies. Lead us to the saving of our country, and with our sister Nations into a world unity that will spell a sure peace a peace invulnerable to the schemings of unworthy men. And a peace that will let all of men live in freedom, reaping the just rewards of their honest toil.

Thy will be done, Almighty God.

Amen.

Do not forget,

LSP 

Lose Yourself

 

8 Mile. Mind how you go.

Quite the toe tapper, recognize the bridge?

Vale,

LSP

Something's Happening Here

 

Huh, who are these freaks. You'll note an early Neil Young pretending to be a Red Indian. Well, hardly the Airplane or the Dead, what? Anyway, here's a tune:

Is that a real cowboy hat? There's a man with a gun over there? Good heavens. Be careful! Reverb forever.

Cheers,

LSP

When Is Enough?

 

This sickens me. Here we are, on the very verge of going to war, and this is the garbage we're being called upon to die for. Let's be clear. Join up and die for gayness, abortion, drag acts and trans surgery.

What a total insult to the people who have already died for their country, who have given everything for what's right, good and true. What a total insult to all normal people, and to those patriots who put their lives on the line and continue to so. For God's sake, look at this, an Admiral, so-called, and try not to throw up in your mouth.

Go On, Die For This, Peasants

So I ask you Libs, are you prepared to lay down your lives for the Rainbow? Are you? Or are you too busy reading the New York Times and sipping foaming coffee as you click for war. Are you a pathetic hypocritical sham?

Or are you true believers who will die and fight for what you believe in. No, I don't see you lining up at the Recruiters' office, you hypocritical, venal, lying, privileged, overeducated beyond your competence dupe shills of the NWO. 

Still, you voted for it and maybe you need to join it, in a Blackrock funded trench in the Ukraine. Perhaps you'll be forced to when conscription kicks in. Go on, do it, sign up early so that Fortress Europa can be the rainbow-hued garden it was always meant to be.

In the meanwhile, apologies to all SEALS and associated warriors. Someone please sort this out, it's getting really stupid.

Rant over,

LSP

S'Up?

 

What's up? Well I'll tell you. A recce mission to the lake to see if the Piscine Adversary was biting. No, it was not. I think they were stunned by the shock of massive heat after massive rain. Still, I tried my luck with topwater lures and it was good to get out in God's clean air by the water.

Waterworld, Thanks A Lot, NWO

Other people were fishing and not catching either, so I didn't feel so bad as I melted into the limestone of what was once an enormous paleolithic reef in an inland sea. A rogue rooster didn't seem to care one way or the other, he just strutted around. And I wondered.

Imagine This Bird Eight Or Nine Feet Tall

If that bird was paleo large, say 6-8' tall+, would it kill you? Dam straight it would, if only by reflex, and just think, our ancestors in the age of magafauna fought and survived against such fearsome beasts. But now they're shrunken and harmless, unless you're a member of our Godless Elite who want to erase all life from the planet apart from themselves.

Top Water No Bites

CS Lewis writes about this in That Hideous Strength and the Abolition of Man. Read 'em both if you haven't already, and if you have, read 'em again. By the way, the former's a novelization of the latter and, I'd say, all the better for that.

What You Gonna Do LSP, Shoot All The Fish?

Then there's fish. They were lying low today, like Democrats in defense of Hunter Biden's cracked up gun buying, but don't kid yourselves, aquatic predators, we'll be back. And then some.

Tight Lines,

LSP

Respect Melania

 

Melania is vilified by our Godless, mendacious, boastful, belligerent, condescending, prideful Press, but for all that she's the Colonel (Hon) of an irregular troop of horsemen, the prestigious Dallas Light Cavalry (DLC). And that's not all, she's no mean artist, have a look:

Well you can see why the boys like her and the pedo rainbow Satans hate her. Here at DLC HQ we respect our honorary Colonel and suggest you do too.

Ride on gentlemen,

LSP

Corpus Christi

 

While you were all running around yesterday waving rainbow flags with Justine Trudeau, others were celebrating the Feast of Corpus Christi. Here's an uplifting song:

Verus,

LSP

A Short Sunday Sermon

 

A short homily via GWB.

That is all,

LSP

Pride Month

 

Wow. Here it comes, again. The great corporate sponsored tsunami of gayness. Dear readers, are you ready?

It's not easy, is it, to swallow the demonic gayness.

But never fear. Do not give in to the evil rainbow hued multinational monolith that is Pink Moloch. Like mist or fog it will dissipate in the bright light of day.

Maybe add some bullets to that.

Your Old Friend,

LSP