Well That Was Fun - Part Two

 

That's right, we climbed off the train at EDI (Edinburgh) and bundled into a cab. "Where to, sir?" Good question, "Royal Scots Club, cabbie," and off we went to the RSC. What a great little club. Back in the day it was very much regimental, and it holds that ethos today, which I like. And here's the thing, the RSC's relaxing, civilized, congenial, and altogether worth joining unless you're a Lib, in which case you'd hate it.

After several hearty meet-ups with the President of the Ghost Club, an old friend, we reluctantly left the RSC to Waverly and thence to the halcyon market town idyl that is Ludlow. Watch out, kids, navigate that change at Crewe, and ride the rails into town. And what a town.

Beautiful, medieval, half-timbered gorgeousness. And oh, let's not forget the bakeries, butchers and market, where you can buy all this real food. Real food, far out, right? Back in the day Ludlow had a wall, with gates, portcullis style. Maybe it will again, let the reader understand.

Caveat in mind, we boarded the train to London several days later. It was easy and involved sandwiches, many sandwiches, which you can order from the buffet car. Tasty as you like and then some, but stop. Do you remember dining cars? You know, with white table cloths, waiters and all of that. All gone, apparently, in our progressively awful new world order.

Devolution of Western Civ aside, we rolled into Euston with the North's great unwashed, no bad thing, mind your wallet. From there? "Reform Club, please, cabbie." Quick as a flash, "Yes, sir," and off we went. And thus began the third evolution of this remarkable adventure. Stay tuned for part three of this foray into the beating heart of the Rainbow Caliphate.

Best,

LSP

Well That Was Fun - Part One

 

It's been a busy couple of weeks and it started like this. You climb onto a plane at DFW, marvel at the lack of people on the flight, and fly to London. Get out at London Heathrow's curiously cramped Terminal 3 and head downtown via train, then set up in Whitehall. Great result, you've made it.

Go exploring for the next couple of days and meet up with old friends on Pall Mall and Soho, notably the famous Coach and Horses on Greek Street. It's a tradition and a good one, if noisy, and you can end the evening with strong covefe at Bar Italia, another tradition. Next evolution?

Go full-on patriot and join Unite The Kingdom, a massive march protesting open borders great replacement immigration, censorship and the iniquity of the UK's Rainbow Caliphate orthodoxy. Seriously, it was a big march, maybe a million strong, which the smug, mendacious, passive aggressive BBC deceitfully undercounted by around 900,000 people.

Well, we navved into the midst of it after an informal lunch in the courtyard of the In & Out (Naval & Military Club) and were struck by the good humor, patriotism and sense of the crowd, many of whom were shocked by Charlie Kirk's assassination and, curiously, were eager to share their faith. Quite a thing, and well worthy of a separate post. More on this later.

Marching for freedom against the wickedness of Globalist Puppet Two-Tier Kier done, we fell back to Trafalgar Square where the boys were starting to get a bit rowdy, and from there to the Harp for a pint and from there to clubland, which meant negronis in the Waterloo Room of the East India, nice. From there?

A delicious dinner at Cafe Zedel, which is an art deco bistro restaurant off Piccadilly Circus. I think it used to be the restaurant of a hotel my Mother stayed in during her purgatorial time at General Synod. Whatever, it's been fixed up and offers good French style food at a very reasonable price. Check it out, but be warned, it can be very full and very noisy; the latter compounded by live jazz 1930s style from a side stage. Hey, living the dream.

Saying goodbye to friends at Piccadilly Circus, we headed down Shaftsbury Avenue in the rain to Soho and the French House. I love the French House, it has magic, and the magic wasn't absent that night. We fell in with a couple of young Gurkha officers (logistics) who'd been at the club that afternoon. 

One was an ADC and I told him, "ADCs always frightened me," which they did, and he told me he wasn't especially frightening, which he didn't seem to be. "But perhaps you can be," I offered by way of social compromise. And so the evening spun on, but not uncontrollably so, and we found ourselves, safe and sound, back at the civilized, relaxing, congenial, attentive, polite, Reform Club. Result.

The next day was all about Mass at the Brompton Oratory, beautiful, lunch at the East India Club which, I tell you, punches high when it comes to salmon and roast beef, not kidding, and from there an easy night. All good, and the next step? Edinburgh and the Royal Scots.

That, dear readers, all five of you, is the next stop on this exciting and adventurous excursion into Kier Starmer's Great Britain, aka Rainbow Caliphate. Stay tuned.

Your Pal,

LSP

Reform Club

 

Reform Club. There is no need to leave. So I guess the Club Shootout's settled, more on this anon. In the meanwhile, let's see what tomorrow brings.

Your Friend,

LSP

A Short Sunday Sermon

 

Do you remember, gentle readers, when we in the West excoriated the Russian Soviets for atheistical malfeasance? Sure you do, the Red Bolsheviks hated Christ and tried to stamp him out; many, many faithful Christians lost their lives in the Red Terror and beyond. Fast forward to today.

What was once Western Christendom has been taken over by Christ-hating Cultural Marxism. They really, really hate the Faith, which explains the bizarre alliance of the Rainbow Left with Islam. The enemy of my enemy, goes the saying, is my friend. It'd also go some way towards parsing their utter, spitting hatred of Russia.

🙏🏼☦️🇷🇸🇷🇺☦️🙏🏼 pic.twitter.com/fj7HxAX6BE

— VukFeNix (@vukfenix) September 7, 2025

 

Yes, the same Russia which threw off its godless Bolshevik tyrant rulers and re-embraced the Cross, the Faith. That seems to be going strong in the New Rome, here's a short video.

Today in Moscow, a massive Orthodox procession with hundreds of flags of our Lord Jesus Christ.

🇷🇺☦️ pic.twitter.com/fCbAksjGtq

— Based Serbia (@SerbiaBased) September 7, 2025

Imagine the howls of outrage over such a procession if it were held in, say, England. We've become the enemy in the cold war we fought against and in theory won. Perhaps that will change, by the grace of God, as it did in Russia.

Here Endeth The Lesson,

LSP

Batshit Bonkers!

 

Gotta hand it to her.

 

KATIE HOPKINS LIVE AT NUMBER 10

… where it’s all about to kick off with the black & white t towel brigade .. pic.twitter.com/JFSVHV4ymu

— Katie Hopkins (@KTHopkins) September 6, 2025

So how come the UK's beloved Stasi haven't taken this maven down?  Good question. For goodness sake, don't you know that hate speech doesn't equal free speech?

Cheers,

LSP

Listen Up All Ye Heathen

 

"JESUS broke the bread which he gave to his disciples, and they did the same afterwards in observing his sacrament.  In fact the earliest name for it was 'the bread-breaking'.  He broke it himself, in token that his enemies would break his body; he broke it himself, because his sacrifice was voluntary, he consented that they should do what they did.  In the prayers after the consecration I must also break the bread; I must break it over the name of Jesus when I pray for deliverance from all evils through his death.  Must I break the body, must I perform in solemn symbol the work of Christ's executioners?  I must, for I must accept, I must identify myself with his willingness to die for my salvation.  There are no limits to the self-bestowing love of God; no truth is more common on our lips than this, and none more distant from our hearts." (Farrer, Crown of the Year)

"Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me," says Christ, "cannot be my disciple." We share in that cross, it lives in us when we receive the Sacrament of the Altar. Do we accept or reject this gift?

Serious question with serious consequences.

Your call,

LSP

How Very Awesome!

 

Great Britain has a new Home Secretary, Shabana Mahmoud. Shabana's a self-proclaimed devout Moslem who's now in charge of the UK's borders, counter-terrorism, immigration, and MI5. What, dear friends, could possibly go wrong?

Do you get the feeling that the beloved rulers of the United Kingdom are openly laughing in the face of their subjects? Take that, serfs, whilst (why do my fellow Brits insist on "whilst"?) we destroy your farms, arrest you for thoughtcrime and tax the pitiful amount you earn into oblivion.

Two-Bit Crook

Others say that Two-Tier Kier's government without mandate is simply rearranging chairs on the Titanic prior to a Labour wipeout in a 2027 snap election. Let's see. In related news, Angela Huckster Rayner's had to resign because of mortgage fraud. Bye bye, Ginger Growler.Sound familiar?

Cheers,

LSP

Question

 

If you were an irregular cavalry unit how would you dress? Good question. Like Probyn, obviously. Here he is in latter years. Respect.

Ride On,

LSP

Total Abject Failure

 

There was a plan, and a dam good one. Viz. Go fishing on Lake Whitney this morning. So what happened, you ask in questioning wonder. I'll tell you, the plan went all to hell and there was no fishing, I wasn't even able to break free of the Compound except to check the PO Box and Walmart, and that was on a schedule. Huh. Total FAIL  So here's some earlier action to virtually make up the miserable deficit.

Surprise striper, caught on a baby bluegill. Huh, far out, wasn't expecting that one.

Well... dam... big fish, light rod. What a lot of fun.

Never underestimate the fun of a plate sized bluegill, tasty too. Kid's a Sergeant now, remarkably. Ahem, commission please, but that's up to him. Whatev. Dads, don't take your kids to degenerate drag queen story hours, take them fishing instead.

Just some bass on the mighty, mighty Brazos.

Message to market? Get back on the water.

Tight Lines,

LSP

Batshit Bonkers

 

Let's hear it from Katie herself:

Batshit Bonkers Britain Wed 3 Sept

Many British police have lost their tiny minds. Sofa humping eunuchs. Get a bloody grip. pic.twitter.com/CjR6iy6gUY

— Katie Hopkins (@KTHopkins) September 3, 2025

Do any of you, yes all three of you readers, have any notion whatsoever why this ENEMY OF THE PEOPLE isn't slung into gaol immediately? Free speech, fellow Soviets, is not hate speech.

Cheers,

LSP 

So What's Next?

 

So what's next? A multipolar order, the collapse of the Dollar, an imploding Pound, race war and balkanization in the UK, the demographic crisis of the West, yield curves going weird, time to invest in precious metal, the return of the Latin Mass and the Rite of Western Christendom? Who knows, perhaps all of this and far, far more. 

You do know, gentle readers, all three of you, that the problem with debt is that someone, eventually, wants to be paid back, typically at interest. That in mind, The Compound's debt free, entirely, not one loan or credit card on site. Cash on the nail's our policy.

That in mind, what next? The collapse of what little's left of Western Civ, obviously, and it won't be nice. In the meanwhile, the Team are fixing to go swimming and fishing in the lake tomorrow, Who knows, maybe some spritely Blue Gill will end up in the fry pan, delicious.

Be Good,

LSP

Round About

 

What an excellent little book!

LSP