Dallas - The Way of The Ninja

 

A leader is best when people barely know he exists, when his work is done, his aim fulfilled, they will say: we did it ourselves.

It's Easter Week and you're in Dallas, so what do you do? Grill, go to Hunky's for delicious burgers, help out with yard work, and then ride into the great Metrosprawl. Which is what I did, arriving at the Preston Center in an unmarked white F150. Comms are important, so I texted GWB in Georgia.

"Sometimes what I do is I go to the Orvis store then stop at Half Price Books before strolling over to REI."

"What?!? The way of the Ninja."

"Exactly. I'm outside the Rolex store right now."

"I wouldn't mind a stainless sport Rolex."

"Same. It'll go with the Lambo."

A typical dog scene in the Preston Center Orvis

 

But this wasn't about buying watches, it was about getting a tin of Barbour's "Wax Thornproof Dressing" to refinish a coat. That meant going into Orvis via the car park entrance, because Covid. You see, you're a lot less likely to catch the plague if you go into the hideously expensive country sports store from the rear entrance.

Waxy mission accomplished, I drove down Northwest Highway to Half price Books, a great barn of a place, full of books and empty of people. A kindly old gentleman told me to put a mask on as I entered the warehouse of cut price books, and I did, not wanting to cause a scene, "Oh, thank you! I forgot!" Whatever, no one was there because Covid, and I walked unseen, ninja style, to the scyfy shelves and bought some books. Result.

Next stop REI, which is conveniently next to HPB. There was a special Covid decontamination unit in front the great outdoors industry co-op, and I ignored that because a. it's stupid and b. ninjas don't do that. Speaking of Lao Tse, I bought an REI shirt, which is white and made in Thailand. Yes, it was expensive, but shaolin doesn't come cheap.

Then back to Dallas HQ and the important task of re-waxing my wax coat. It's not hard, just rub the wax into the cloth and let the beast bake in the sun for a few hours. You can and probably should make your own wax mixture, which I've done, but I bought convenience. Ma LSP looked at the refurbed coat and remarked, "That's pretty old timey," And so it is, I like that.

Back in the country now, and I like that too.

God bless,

LSP

Jesus Christ is Risen Today

God bless and happy Easter,

LSP

What Have We Here?

 

You know what it's like. Roll up to the familial homestead for Easter festivity and there it is, one of the guests has a "prays well together" sticker on their car. Really? When was the last time you offered one up at the local mosque while sacrificing to Kali?

Being a polite and hospitable LSP, I didn't say that and resisted the urge to sharpie in some runes on the offensive signage. Still, you can imagine the scene, "What, you don't pray pray well with Armanen worshippers of the Victorious Sun? Maybe you need to be more inclusive." You get the point, but she wouldn't have done, because all religions same. Like, we all pray! And I want world peace! 

So let's test the theory out, here's some Aztec worship. Have a look:

Cortez and the gang felt they had come across a nation of devil worshippers and perhaps they had, the walls of Mexico City's great pyramid dripped with the blood of an estimated 20,000 human sacrifices, annually. They ate the victims too, coexist with that.

Point being, all religions are not the same and given that everyone has one, better choose wisely as opposed to pretending that none of it really matters.

Christus Surrexit,

LSP

Happy Easter!

 

I know, a day late and a dollar short, but Happy Easter!

Christ has risen,

LSP

Holy Saturday

 

Here we are, on Holy Saturday, and the body of our Savior lies in the tomb, the fourteenth station. Consider this, by George Herbert:

Oh blessed body!  Whither art thou thrown? 

No lodging for thee, but a cold hard stone?

So many hearts on earth, and yet not one

Receive thee?

Sure there is room within our hearts good store;

For they can lodge transgressions by the score:

Thousands of toys dwell there, yet out of door

They leave thee.

But that which shows them large, shows them unfit.

Whatever sin did this pure rock commit,

Which holds thee now? Who hath indicted it

Of murder?

Where our hard hearts have took up stones to brain thee,

And missing this, most falsely did arraign thee;

Only these stones in quiet entertain thee,

And order.

And as of old, the law by heav’nly art,

Was writ in stone;  so thou, which also art

The letter of the word, find’st no fit heart

To hold thee.

Yet do we still persist as we began,

And so should perish, but that nothing can,

Though it be cold, hard, foul, from loving man

Withhold thee.

Where our hard hearts have took up stones to brain thee. 

Herbert was a country parson,  as am I. There's clearly a lot to live up to, eh? 

Light v. Dark,

LSP

Good Friday

 

The Tabernacles are empty, the Altars are stripped, and Christ lays in the tomb. It seems as though Satan has won, and he must have thought so. You can imagine the infernal ecstasy. Imagine, too, the horror of the Adversary as Christ rises from the dead, demolishing the calculus of the Pit.

Consummatum est. It is finished, the perfect sacrifice is made, man is reconciled to God and the powers of Hell cast down, only to rage in fury as they descend into the Lake of Fire. 

They take their followers with them, the followers of the False Prophet Caiaphas, who on the sixth hour of the sixth day stamp their foreheads with the mark of the Beast crying out, "We have no king but Caesar!"

We follow a different King, the Lord of Life, who reigns victorious on the hard wood of the Cross. Satan and death have no power over us.

Rejoice in that and stand firm.

God bless,

LSP

Maundy Thursday Pistol

 

One of the things which happens on Maundy Thursday is that the priest gets to wash peoples' feet, as Christ washed his disciples' feet. My MC doesn't like it because he thinks it's "hokey," which perhaps it is. That in mind, most definitely a lesson in humility.

Regardless, there I was, about to wash a rancher's right foot, and there on a sock next to his boot was a compact S&W(?), a 9 or 40 I think. So I looked at the pistol, looked at the foot and did some quick math.

Should I bless the pistol and make it part of the rite or not? I chose the latter path, deciding to store up value for a later a date, a churchwide blessing of guns. Go long and hold, went the arithmetic.

Later, at the Pax, I told  my friend, "That was the safest footwashing I've ever seen." He replied, embarrassed, "Padre, I just forgot it was there, in my boot!" He needn't have worried, "Brother, next year we'll make it mandatory."

And that, all five of you readers, is the story of that. A short tale of God, country life and guns in Texas.

God bless,

LSP

Holy Wednesday

 

In between cleaning all the guns that I don't have and watching scenes from Tombstone on continuous loop, I look forward to Maundy Thursday with it's double mandate, do this and love one another as I have loved you, the former realized in the Eucharist, was ever a command so obeyed?, and the latter signified by Christ washing the feet of his disciples.

The connection is clear and lies in the Cross, from which Jesus washes away our sins in his supreme act of love. And it's precisely this sacrifice that's made present to us in the Sacrament of the Altar. The extent to which we receive the grace offered, think Parable of the Sower, depends on our obedience to the commandment to love. 

Benedict XVI reflects:

In it (Confession), the Lord continually rewashes our dirty feet, and we are able to sit at table with Him.

But in this way, the word takes on yet another meaning, in which the Lord extends the "sacramentum" by making it the "exemplum," a gift, a service for our brother: "If I, therefore, the master and teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash one another's feet" (John 13:14). We must wash each other's feet in the daily mutual service of love. But we must also wash our feet in the sense of constantly forgiving one another. The debt that the Lord has forgiven us is always infinitely greater than all of the debts that others could owe to us (cf. Mt. 18:21-35). It is to this that Holy Thursday exhorts us: not to allow rancor toward others to become, in its depths, a poisoning of the soul. It exhorts us to constantly purify our memory, forgiving one another from the heart, washing each other's feet, thus being able to join together in the banquet of God.

Holy Thursday is a day of gratitude and of joy for the great gift of love to the end that the Lord has given to us. We want to pray to the Lord at this time, so that gratitude and joy may become in us the power of loving together with his love. Amen.

Amen to that. We must and should hunger and thirst for righteousness, swords about the Cross. But by the same token, there is no place for the poisonous serpent of hatred within our hearts. It is the hallmark of our Adversary, Satan. And remember, though it seems counter-intuitive, the enemy's lost and lost hard.

Be on the side of Light,

LSP

A Typical Night At The Compound

 

Just another typical day in North Central Texas. Make of it what you will.

Wild West,

LSP

You Dirty Beasts!

 

If you lost all your guns when the canoe capsized on the Brazos you don't need to worry about cleaning them because they're gone, lost to the waters of the deep. But say, hypothetically, you were able to retrieve some of the firearms, perhaps with rope and magnets. Well then, you'd clean them.

Light and Fast

Otherwise they'd be filthy, dirty, beasts and wouldn't work properly, and what's the point of a gun if it doesn't work? Speaking of dirty, I like gas guns a lot, they're fun to shoot, but they do get fouled up and take time to clean.

7.62 Weightlifting, anyone?

Thanks a lot, "gas impingement." Still, it works, and I like the low recoil of the .308/7.62 AR as much as I dislike the weight of the thing. Is it a deadly assault rifle? Good question, it's certainly black, so perhaps it is. Who knows, maybe it'll learn to take a thermal and assault the nocturnal porcuswine.

Typical Street Scene in Biden's America

But that's in the future. In the meanwhile, I'm waiting for ammo prices to drop from their currently obscene heights; 50 cents per round for .22LR, really? Over a buck for a round of 5.56, what? And that's if you can find it.

Not that it matters, I lost all my guns when the skiff hit a reef in Lake Whitney and sank beneath the waves. What. A. Catastrophe.

#2A,

LSP 

Juke Box Monday

 

Shoot some pool, fire off a few darts, have a pint or several and spin some tunes on the juke. Yes, it's Jukebox Monday and here's Juliette's choice, Copperhead Road. Great choice.

Infidel takes us to a contemplative space, with Stella Blue. Let's hear it for the Dead:

RHT recommends Stevie boy.

And here's some country from Jim.

Me? I just like Thunderstruck, because it's awesome. Check it out:

Rock on,

LSP

Wolf Pack

 

It's been a busy time here at the Compound, so we're catching up. This short infovid's for our nautical friend LL; we managed to get some video footage, so check it out. And if you don't like the "Metal"? Too bad, no one ever said life'd be easy (click "watch on Youtube" and widescreen):

Mind how you go,

LSP