Listen up, heathen. It's the Feast of the Assumption, so here's a prayer:
May this hallowed feast shower us with saving grace, O Lord; since today the mother of God underwent the death of the body yet could not be held in deathbonds, as having brought forth Your incarnate Son, Our Lord; Who lives and reigns...
And here's the Latin, for all you trads out there, from the Dominican Breviary.
Veneránda nobis, Dómine, huius diéi festívitas opem cónferat salutárem, in qua sancta Dei Génetrix mortem súbiit temporálem, nec tamen mortis néxibus déprimi pótuit, quae Fílium tuum Dóminum nostrum de se génuit incarnátum: Qui tecum vivit et regnat...
I think the Latin's better, but that's just me. God bless,
The best thing about removing statues of honorable Confederate generals is that it's going to eliminate poverty, injustice and oppression everywhere.
No longer will persons of color and feminist theater study majors have to trudge in slavery under the baleful glare of General Lee, Stonewall Jackson and Jeb Stuart. Smash the statues! Strike off the manacles of fascism! And by the way, eliminate borders so that everyone can be controlled by our unimaginably wealthy transnational elite at slave labor wages.
To coin a phrase, what a crock. So come on, Sabo et al, let's see some life size Confederate street art, everywhere. As I pondered this on the Compound's southern values porch, my son came out, looking suspiciously sharp.
"A friend's coming to get me," he announced cheerily. "Well that's nice, kid," I replied, like a member of Parson's Brigade and before you could whistle Dixie, up pulls the friend in a brand new, gleaming white F250.
Not My Rig
I tell you, it made my rig look like child's play.
Perhaps you've forgotten that it's Melania Mondays!, what with all the statue disturbance going on. Nothing quite like destroying a statue to establish a brave new world globalist utopia, eh? Open borders, TPP, anyone? Occupy Soros, you risible, amnesiac hippies.
Regardless, here at the Compound we most certainly haven't forgotten about the best day of the week. That's right, Monday, Melania Monday.
And guess what, America's popular First Lady hasn't been idle, far from it. She's taken a stand for decency, denouncing the recent violence in Charlottesville on social media, “Our country encourages freedom of speech, but let's communicate w/o hate in our hearts. No good comes from violence.”
Well said, FLOTUS. Take note, Soros-funded fauxtrage; peace and love, please. And remember this. Message to market, /our guys know how to shoot. But that's not all.
Melania's popularizing heels. 8" big time. Good work, Melania. Right in the X Ring.
First Lady, you look good. Thank you for doing your part to make America great again.
Once you get over the video, in which rich sybarite hippies rip-off someone's pricey sailboat, consider this.
When Christ walks on the water He proves His divinity. The Word who spoke creation into being has power over its elements. And the mystical meaning?
The faithful, in the ark of salvation, set sail on the waters of the world as Our Lord ascends the mountain to commune with the Father. In the evening of the day, after many centuries, tempest threatens to overwhelm the Church. But Christ, appearing in the 4th Watch, at the very end of time, stills the storm and rescues the faithful, taking them to the other side of the turbulent sea, to Paradise.
And the moral meaning?
The ship of the soul, endowed by Christ with virtues and graces, signified by the disciples, sets out over the waters of creation while He is in Heaven with the Father. In the evening of the day, as life progresses towards its end, trials and tumults, storms, threaten to swamp the soul but at the final moment, in the 4th Watch, the Judgement, Jesus returns and stills the storm, leading the faithful soul to safety.
So the Gospel does at least three things. Reinforce or prove the divinity of Christ and show the timorous Christian that not only does He have the ship of the Church in hand but also the soul.
Both will reach the other side of the sea, regardless of the storm. But what about Peter, does he act as a focus or summation of the literal and mystical meaning of the miracle. It seems that he does.
Peter stands for the literal. "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God," he says in his confession of faith; He is the rock, accordingly, on which the ship of the Church is founded. As such, he is the faithful soul who goes out to meet Christ across the waves. And when he sinks under their tumult, as we all do, Jesus takes him by the hand and rescues him from the tempest.
Shocked cryptozoologists have captured video footage of the Episcopal Diocese of Kentucky, living under a trestle bridge in Louisville, near an abandoned church.
The frightening images came to light on game cameras as developers gained permission to build retail and office space on abandoned wasteland in the vicinity of the bridge.
Planning Commission staff cited that a mix of commercial uses had been proposed "in a rural area where the scale is inappropriate for the surrounding large rural single family lots. The Diocese of Kentucky is part of folklore but has to move on."
Known locally as the Pope Lick Monster, the Diocese of Kentucky is not to be confused with the Anglo-Catholic movement but may be a species of hybrid.
The Diocese of Kentucky is an enthusiastic supporter of gay marriage and womyn priests. Diocesan Staff were not available for comment.
Scientists and the military are collaborating with futurists and venture capitalists to create a new breed of human, superhumans that transcend our current state through biotechnological augmentation. Science fiction, or science fact?
Science Fiction?
Sources deep within DAARPA have revealed that transhumans are a reality and living among us. However, what some welcome as the next stage in human evolution is still in the early stages of development.
H+
Initial transhuman experiments have shown that chimeras are prone to sociopathic ambition and startling reality cognition dissonance; they lie, constantly, and are typically prone to fits of murderous rage to achieve personal advantage.
A Typical Transhuman Experiment
Others display disturbingly narcissistic behavioral traits while some experiments show an inability to control themselves or think rationally.
New World Order
Will the ongoing attempt to create a new humanity move past these failures into a utopian future of higher humanity, a future defined by a DNA enhanced, germline superclass? A new world order, overseen by gene-spliced supersoldiers?
There's a law, the Bathroom Bill, which may or may not get through a special session of Texas' state legislature. What is this so-called "Bathroom Bill"? It's a draconian ordinance, forcing people to use the bathrooms of their biological gender.
So, if you're a man and you identify as a woman you're straight out of luck. Bathroom Bill says you have to use the man's bathroom. Harsh, eh? As in, say goodbye to freedom, Texas. But don't worry; this fascistic law, which threatens to trample our most basic civil liberties underfoot, doesn't seem likely to pass.
Oppressed
That's because Big Business has gone Big Trans, with some 51 Fortune 500 companies, such as Halliburton, opposing the freedom-crushing legislation. All told, over 720 businesses oppose the bill, claiming that it would harm Texas' business friendly reputation and make it hard to attract and retain skilled workers.
Oppressed
Yes. Think of the hundreds of thousands of highly skilled transsexuals who will flee the state if Bathroom Bill gets its way. Imagine the labor shortage, picture the hollowed out shells of once prosperous Mega Corporations lining the gender dysphoric highways of Dallas, Houston and San Antonio.
Dallas After Bathroom Bill
Then, as this apocalyptic vision of the future unfolds, see, with your mind's eye, the downtrodden masses trudging wearily to yet another day of scarcity, oppression and biologically assigned "restrooms." But there is no rest for them, Bathroom Bill killed that.
Blue Chip Satan
Horrific, isn't it. Fortunately, the nation's Blue Chips and their lesser allies should stop this odious law, allowing Texans everywhere to celebrate their gender fluidity in the toilet of their choice. And we have to ask.
Some Bloke That Thinks He's a Girl
Has Satan driven these clowns insane? As you ask yourself that, don't forget that Baphomet's trans.
I stood to somewhere around first light. No, not to scan the perimeter in the predawn mist, senses sharpened to razor-like intensity, but to get the kid up for his daily football workout. Lights on, hands on socks hands off... you get the drift.
It was a beautiful, cool, overcast morning with the promise of sun breaking through the clouds and it was neat to drive out to the school as the town was coming awake. It reminded me of England in May, except hotter, without the rain and, well, the resemblance fades when you get down to detail.
The kids were already getting athletic by the time we pulled up to Football HQ; there must have been a hundred or so youngsters running around, not including the "ballers" who were starting to get busy lifting weights. And all this activity several weeks before school even starts. Well done kids, healthy body, healthy mind.
Back at the Compound, strong coffee in hand, I reflected on the morning's evolution. They say that life lived for others results in life itself.
There was a big funeral here today and you know what they say, if you put all the pick ups end to end in this town's parade, it'd circle the earth three times over. Like the True Cross, but not as effective against the Moslem horde, Hattin excepted.
Hattin
After the funeral, one of the Missions laid on lunch, fajitas and all of that. And I tell you, it was a good result. The Cadet helped out too, after a football practice, and that was good. After three helpings of fajitas he hit the rack. Children have no stamina.
Rain!
Then, after the team surfaced from a needed re-org, it began to rain. Like silver falling from the clouds and those of you who don't know Texas in August will have to take it on trust.
OK. Military Academy
Of course the weather experts said there'd be no rain but then again, the same fools said polar bears would be drowning inside the Beltway and Donald Trump wouldn't be President.
A Bin Full Of Unicorns
The weather, you see, is a settled science and pop star legend Madonna? Children's author or Devil Witch?
It's the Feast of the Transfiguration today and I hope you all made it safely out of cuddlespace and into church. Here's St. Gregory the Great, commenting on the Voice which was heard from the cloud of divine glory that descended upon Christ on the holy mountain.
"Hear ye Him," therefore, unhesitatingly, in Whom
I am throughout well pleased, and by Whose preaching I am manifested, by Whose
humiliation I am glorified; because He is "the Truth and the Life ,"
He is My "Power and Wisdom." "Hear ye Him," Whom the
mysteries of the Law have foretold, Whom the mouths of prophets have sung.
"Hear ye Him," Who redeems the world by His blood, Who binds the
devil, and carries off his chattels, Who destroys the bond of sin, and the
compact of the transgression. Hear ye Him, Who opens the way to heaven, and by
the punishment of the cross prepares for you the steps of ascent to the
Kingdom? Why tremble ye at being redeemed? why fear ye to be healed of your
wounds? Let that happen which Christ wills and I will. Cast away all fleshly
fear, and arm yourselves with faithful constancy; for it is unworthy that ye
should fear in the Saviour's Passion what by His good gift ye shall not have to
fear even at your own end.
Somehow we get the impression that Gregory wouldn't look too kindly on the Gender Swapping Unicorn Cult (GSUC) that passes for so much of latter day religion.
O GOD, who on the mount didst reveal to chosen witnesses thine only-begotten Son wonderfully transfigured, in raiment white and glistering; Mercifully grant that we, being delivered from the disquietude of this world, may be permitted to behold the King in his beauty, who with thee, O Father, and thee, O Holy Ghost, liveth and reigneth, one God, world without end. Amen.
Thanks to Brietbart's reporting on the Cuddle Industry, we know that cuddle parties are booming, comforting people everywhere who are traumatized by President Trump.
A Typical Cuddle Party
According to professional cuddler, Anastasia Allington of Austin, Texas, cuddling is all about space.
I started thinking about why it would be that people would seek out this service after this particular election and I think it has a lot to do with space. We walk through our days and we wear all these hats: mother, sister, employee, then something like this happens where, for many people, they felt bereft and the world doesn’t stop. In the cuddle space, you can be where you are with whatever emotion you’re feeling and no one has any expectations of you.
Cuddling
I won't comment about space but,No one has any expectations of you, are you sure, Anastasia? Regardless, here's some furries, cuddling.
Cuddlespace is centered in San Francisco and Austin. The number of Episcopalian and Church of England clerics who cuddle is currently unknown.
Country life in Texas is usually, for me, all about shooting, riding, fishing and a bit of hunting but this summer's been different.
It's been about getting a young 'un enrolled in High School, into the football team and its preseason workouts, getting his vaccinations up to date, finding employment for the fellow, you can't be hanging around here all day in bed and if you do you've got another think coming type of thing.
And generally readjusting to being a full-time parent again after many years. To say nothing of recovering from a rib injury, which puts a damper on the sporting life.
So there's not been much getting out in the field, apart from walking Blue Aggressor through packs of stray dogs to the local pick 'n steal, but that's not to say the operation has ground to a halt, far from it. Also, one of the Missions was dealt a bad blow in the sudden loss of its Senior Warden, a fine Christian lady. May she rest in peace.
And there you have it, a fascinating snapshot into the vagaries of LSPland and I tell you this. I'd rather be wrangling with all of it in the country than in one of our dismally failed, social experiment urban hellholes.
I file this exciting report under Country Life In Texas.
