Shattered

 

What! I looked at the phone and it looked at me, broken and shattered like a mute parable of the state of our nation. Seriously, what isn't broken right about now. Our governance, borders, elections, finance, and all that it is to come together as a country; who we are as a nation?

Shattered glass aside, I went into the T Mobile shop to get a fix for the phone I'd foolishly dropped the night before, "I need a new phone, this one's glass is shattered like the state of Union itself."

Bonnie Blue

Of course they could have got right on it but here's the thing, I was invisible to their system, off grid. No kidding, no IMEI, no social, no name, no nothing, the manager wasn't even allowed, by the system, to access my account. "What do you actually do?" he asked, "That," I replied, "is a very good question."

We looked at each other in a moment of understanding. "Look, man, all I want to do is sell you a phone, at the right price." I thought for a moment, "Yes, that's what I want too, we think as one." And we did.

Sure, it took a while, but in that time we talked of late antiquity, the ruins of Rome in the 6th century, Detroit, architecture as a reflection of the soul of a nation and how we're sadly wanting in that regard, and so much more besides.

Probyn

As time went interminably call-center on I amused myself by marching about the store and saluting, Brit style, various icons, images of phones. "Eyes Left!" Quite the drill movement, to say nothing of about turn on the march and let me tell you, all were impressed. As in open order, right dress! Ahem.

Militarist gymnastics over I checked out with a brand new nicely discounted phone, and learned that the manager of the shop's cousin(?) was a Captain and that his store associate had just left Ft. Hood after 4 years of service. 

She told me, "I cried when I left." She loved Ft. Hood and the Army and has serious disabilities to contend with. "I will pray for you," I offered, and meant it wholeheartedly. 

What a good store. I love these people and wish them well. By the left.

Your Old Friend,

LSP

Who Is the Worst US General Ever?

 

Evil Old Fraud

Who's the worst general ever, maybe it's this bemedalled old fraud.

Wicked Old Diversity Fraud

Then there's diversity genius.

What awesome, war-winning commanders we have. Can you imagine how they inspire the troops? They love their leaders, yes, they're prepared to die for them, lay down their lives for their ideal. 

Perhaps they think the troops are stupid,

LSP

The Light Shines

 

We live in a barrage of lies, perhaps as never before. All the more reason to attend to the truth. Here it is, St. John's Prologue, which is said correctly at the end of Mass. Don't forget the genuflexion at the Incarnatus:

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.

The same was in the beginning with God.

All things were made by Him, and without Him was made nothing that was made:

in Him was life, and the life was the Light of men;

and the Light shineth in darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it.

There was a man sent from God, whose name was John.

This man came for a witness, to give testimony of the Light,

that all men might believe through him.

He was not the Light, but was to give testimony of the Light.

That was the true Light, which enlighteneth every man that cometh into this world.

He was in the world, and the world was made by Him,

and the world knew Him not.

He came unto His own, and His own received Him not.

But as many as received Him, He gave them power to be made the sons of God,

to them that believe in His Name,

who are born not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man,

but of God.

AND THE WORD WAS MADE FLESH,

and dwelt among us:

and we saw His glory, the glory as it were of the Only begotten of the Father,

full of grace and truth.

The Light shineth in darkness. And there it is. Go against this at the peril of your immortal soul. And the reverse, of course, is true.

LSP

TEXAS FREE STATE

 

That is all,

LSP

THIS IS UTTERLY INSANE

 

We're in the midst of a killer pandemic of historic proportions, so our beneficent elite overlords have to take drastic measures to keep us safe. Which is why they're firing nurses and staff at hospitals, you can read all about it at Old NFO.

Think about that, if only for a moment because the math isn't hard, and then run the other side of the equation. Congress and its staff, the Postal Service and illegal immigrants are exempt from the vax. 

They don't have to get it to function as Federal employees or enter the country, unlike everyone else, say, soldiers. Add this all together, to say nothing of minor fractions like Pharma's liability waiver, and eureka, the equation's solved. What an utter clownshow.

We've been and are being fed a pack of lies to make a gang of mendacious crooks, mountebanks and grifters get even richer than they already were. The cost to you, the serf? Loss of liberty, life and the pursuit of happiness, as in "don't you even think of taking your kids to an ice rink in Ontario without your vax papers, criminal."

Or worshiping God or going to a restaurant or flying a fighter jet or leaving the country or, if DiFi gets her way, leaving your state. You get the drift and I'll cut to the chase.

This whole thing is totally, bizarrely insane. Why, in the name of science, are we firing healthcare workers in a pandemic? Perhaps because there isn't one, only an evil shell game ponzi riding high on a sea of lies fostered by the criminals' infernal father, Satan. 

I'll leave it right there.

Your Old Friend,

LSP

Spooky

 

Nothing sinister or spooky about anything at all, right about now, but mind how you go.

Your Pal,

LSP

Michaelmas

 

It's the great Feast of the Archangel today and we surely need his protection right about now. Here's a small sample, via Zero:

Evergrande’s going down.  And it’s taking the life savings of countless good people down with it.

But while Evergrande’s going down.  Food prices are going up.  Moreover, they’re going up a lot.

According to the United Nations Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO), global food prices were up nearly 33 percent year over year in August.  Vegetable oil, grains, and meat all cost more.  Unfortunately, rising food prices – and empty stomachs – often presage social chaos and revolution.

If you recall, a decade ago food inflation triggered the Arab Spring uprisings across the Middle East and North Africa.  And food shortages were commonplace in Communist Romania in the 1980s.  That was before the country’s dictator Nicolae Ceausescu was overthrown, tried by a kangaroo court, lined up against a wall, and executed by firing squad on Christmas Day in 1989.

Rare is the revolution ignited by a populace with a full stomach.  Historically, surges against an oppressive regime are sparked by a steep and extended rise in food prices.

 

 Rare is the revolution ignited by a populace with a full stomach. Take note, elite puppet stooge rulers of the NWO. You have been weighed in the balance and found wanting.

Sermon over, as you were,

LSP

Tulsa Queen

I think this awesome, you may not. Your call, no rule, and all hail Emmylou,

LSP

Quis ut Deus

 

Here, on the eve of Michaelmas, we present this:

Now war arose in heaven, Michael and his angels fighting against the dragon. And the dragon and his angels fought back, but he was defeated, and there was no longer any place for them in heaven. And the great dragon was thrown down, that ancient serpent, who is called the devil and Satan, the deceiver of the whole world—he was thrown down to the earth, and his angels were thrown down with him. (Revelation 12:7-9)

 

At that time shall arise Michael, the great prince who has charge of your people. And there shall be a time of trouble, such as never has been since there was a nation till that time. But at that time your people shall be delivered, everyone whose name shall be found written in the book. (Daniel 12:1)

 

Yes, there is war in heaven and tomorrow's the Feast of the Archangel. Pray:

Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil; May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; And do thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host, by the power of God, thrust into hell Satan and all evil spirits who wander through the world for the ruin of souls. Amen.

 

Word to the wise. Do not, I say again, do not go against the implacable will of the angels. It won't work out well for you, just try it and see. 

Your Pal,

LSP

Weird As Hell

 

Don't say eyes wide shut, just remember it's all a larf 'til you wake up and realize a demon's gnawing on your inner thigh. 

No further comment except, "Note gaping pie hole." I'd say that was rather polite, let the reader understand, and thanks, M, for the infographic.

Your Old Pal,

LSP

Get Out And Fish

 

It's not much fun getting up in the dark at a ridiculously early hour but you know it's worth it as you power across the lake in Pat's skiff, followed by a fiery Texan sunrise.

We were looking for striper and sure enough, Pat knows where to find them. He's just a great guide, friendly, helpful and most importantly he gets you on the fish, usually with live shad. But today it was all about 6" Cotton Cordell pencil poppers and big silver spoons.

Old LSP with a fish

First off, topwater poppers and brisk action as the ferocious predators exploded onto our lures like Red Guards on a gang of recidivist Mensheviks. Or something like that. But look, and I know you're all experts, in the adrenaline rush excitement of the strike, do not try a premature hookset. 

Don't do it, no, let the fish take the lure down into the depths and if he doesn't, leave it be, chances are the enraged bass will come back again and again in its misguided fury. And you'll get your fish.

A few big fellas

Next up, silver spoons, which are a workout. Drop the spoon into the water, let it hit bottom, then "whippit up, and let it flutter down. They'll tear into that thing." And so they did, but not so much for me. Still, I wasn't complaining, the topwater had been outstanding.

Then back to the boat ramp, where Pat cleaned the fish in a fraction of the time I could've done and that was that, back to the Compound where fish awaits. My plan is this. Salt and pepper a fillet or two, pan fry in olive oil on medium high heat, serve with some kind of vegetable or two and fall on that scoff like a warrior.

What a good morning! Thanks, S.O. for the fun, and Pat for being a great guide.

Fish On,

LSP

The Plan

 

Typical Cadets

The kid has a plan, and it's this. Complete two years of a remote/online computer science degree and then go "green to gold" for the final two years at Texas A&M's ROTC, the Corps of Cadets. Then, riding boots burnished to a reflective glow, get a commission and go from there.

Good plan, eh? And  it starts this week as classes commence. So let's see if the onetime cadet will become the genuine article, a real Cadet. But first things first. Our conversation went like this as we were about to take the Bernie Beck gate exit to the home of III Corps.

Swords Are Key 

"Let's get you fixed up for a vehicle." He paused and went lateral, "One private bought an old fire truck." I slowed down as the old rig made it's way to the Great Place, "What?" Quick as a flash the boy replied, "A firetruck. The CO got mad and made him get rid of it." 

What a wasted opportunity, I thought to myself, and then out loud. "That's pretty shortsighted. I'd have made him give it to Brigade and made it the THUNDERBIRDS truck. You know, paint up the Thunderbirds logo and drive around base playing the brigade song. From speakers, loud, very loud. It'd boost morale. You do have a brigade song, right?"

The once and maybe future Cadet pondered this and promised to find the rousing song, "There has to be one, dad." And surely there is.

In other news, our new Afghan friends are sexually attacking US servicewomen at various bases around the country. How totally unpredictable. Good work, Team Biden.

Cheers,

LSP

Jungle Warrior

 

Today's warfighter has to deliver mission critical, cutting edge solutions in a fast-paced, high threat environment. That's why I sent the Specialist on the Compound's justly famous Jungle Warfare Training School (JWTS). 

Some people go to Belize, others to SE Asia, but here in Texas we do it in house. "Take this cutting edge to the enemy, son," I announced with typical paternal affection, "And knock down the green menace. Chop, chop. That hedge won't cut itself." Quite.

Arboreal,

LSP

The Apocalypse Begins

And so the Reich collapsed, only to be replaced by our own rainbow version of stainless steel tolerance. You'll note the Colonel v. Luftwaffe interaction. Someone's said, "So nothing's changed?"

Make of this ghostly infovideo what you will,

LSP

The Light

Here we are on the porch, with the light shining in darkness, back from Fort Hood with a happily off-duty Specialist. "Hey, dad, we're off work at 1300, can you pick me up? I'll serve Mass on Sunday," some kind of bribe? 

Regardless, off I went only to return to the sylvan groves of this small but steadfast farming community, at the Compound. But maybe trouble is brewing, a cloud's on the horizon, perhaps.

simpering poof

You see, the troops are excited, ecstatic and enthusiastic about the vax mandate. They're veritably lining up to get the jab. Like my kid, who got in early and nearly died because of it. No. Kidding. "What happens," he asked on the outskirts of Temple, "when a third, a quarter or even an eighth of Command refuses to take the jab in the face of a dishonorable discharge?"

terrifying

I told him him to keep his head down, get the degree (CS) which starts in October, and see where the wind blows. "We're in uncharted waters, son, and bombarded with so many lies that it's hard to keep track. And who knows, the Pentagon might strike a deal like the postal workers."

Go figure. You can be a "postie" and don't have to take the vax, but a soldier? Don't even think it. Illegal immigrant? No vax for you, no, of course not. That'd be racist. Again, here we are at the Emmys, maskless, rich, cavorting and free, unlike our waitserf underlings. Which forces us to wonder if the whole thing is utter BS.

you elite mountebanks

Wonder? There's no wonder in it at all except in the sheer magnitude of the deceit and the success of the thing. People are, still, consumed with fear of imminent death from a batflu with a >99.70 recovery rate. It's almost as if they wanted the STATE to control them.

That said, Truth, with a capital T, has a way of winning out. Take heart in that. And so we do, The light shineth in darkness and the darkness comprehendeth it not.

God bless,

LSP

Oops, Fail

 

I love the Church of England, with all it's glorious patrimony, stately worship and beautiful buildings. So very awesome. But what's the point of it if nobody goes? To fix this knotty conundrum, the venerable CoE spent >$248 million on "renewal and reform." between 2017 and 2020. The result? Fewer people going to church.

What a dismal fail. According to Breitbart "typical Sunday church attendance fell to 690,000 in 2019 from 740,000 in 2016." So strange, and despite all those millions.

Maybe the English, or anyone else for that matter, aren't convinced by the Baphomet Rainbow. Maybe they're not drawn to the 1st Church of Trans, and who knows, could it be that all those wymyn bishop figures don't cut it when it comes to souls in church, on an actual Sunday.

Readers may recall that the Church, writ large, has been saying for decades, "Unless you conform to the age no one will take you seriously and the pews will empty." My, how that worm's turned. And go figure, why should any Guardian/NYT/NPR zombie go to church to have their disbelief reflected back on them.

Well the proof's in the data. No one, much, is. What does this mean? That the libs, like parasites, will destroy their host and a righteous remnant will remain. Against this, all you jaded cynics, the gates of Hell shall not prevail.

Cheers,

LSP

Country & Western

Years ago some fool said "I thought the Grateful Dead would be cool, but they were just Country and Western."

Yes, fool.

Your Old Friend,

LSP

Midweek Roundup

 

Typical Texas Street Scene

It's a hard life. When not watching inspirational videos of Eva Peron who could, per LL, launch several B 52s, it's all about Vespers or Evening Prayer.

Speaking of which, do you remember our bizarrely incompetent retreat from Afghanistan? How much money, we have to ask, was paid to the "big guy," and why aren't the people he paid in full control of the Panjshir Valley? Apparently they're not. "Ban, ban, Taliban," as the song goes.

Let's see how the resistance plays out. In other news, more and more people are getting sick from the vax, China's facing a Lehman moment and Biden's popularity is tanking, which is weird, coz he's the most popular president ever in the history of popularity. 

And lest we forget, the millionaire celebrities at the Emmys were exempt from masking because they're "performers." Quite unlike you, the serf. Maybe we need some frontier justice?

Your Old Pal,

LSP

The Feast of St. Matthew The Apostle

 

Not only is it beautifully cool in north central Texas and even rained, miraculously, but it's also the Feast of St. Matthew. We all know how Matthew was converted and went from being a wicked tax collector to a holy man of God, an Apostle. Less well known is the great saint's mission to Ethiopia, in which the Apostle confronted two sorcerers, Zaroes and Arphaxat.

Zaroes and Arphaxat were in the habit of secretly enchanting people, causing them to be immobile and then, cunningly, curing their paralyzed victims. It's possible that the adepts used magically conjured snakes in these acts of occult chicanery, regardless, they were hailed as Gods by the incredulous and doubtless made a lot of money.

Matthew, no stranger to fiduciary malfeasance, occult or otherwise, saw through Zaroes and Arphaxat's trickery and went out to meet the sorcerers. These mountebanks of the dark side proceeded to set their two dragons on the Apostle, who promptly put the reptilians to sleep. A 13th century Legend describes the encounter:

Then said Matthew to the enchanters: Where is your craft? Awake ye them if ye may; and if I would pray our Lord, that which ye would have committed in me, I should soon execute on you. And when the people were assembled, he commanded the dragons that they should depart without hurting of any, and they went anon.

 

Needless to say, the dragons went on their way, Matthew preached a remarkable sermon, the occult mountebanks were thrown in prison, and the Apostle retired to the Queen of Ethiopia's palace. Yes, the enigmatic Candace was his patroness. 

He then raised the king's son from the dead, converted the nation, and was promptly martyred by the king's successor for challenging the monarch's sexual immorality. How dare you take the Virgin Ephigenia?

The evil king then imitated Herod, beheaded the Apostle and burned Ephigenia alive. Perhaps conscience got the better of him, as the Legend tells us he "slew himself with his own hand by the sword." Our friends Zaroes and Arphaxat survived, curiously, and fled to Persia. 

Their spirit is evidently alive, well and kicking. Just ask any country whose money is an IOU at interest to a privately owned bank. 

St. Matthew, pray for us and vanquish the sorcerers and their dragons.

God bless,

LSP

Justine Trudeau

 

Canada goes to the polls tonight.

Your friend,

LSP

Vaxxing It Up

Did you watch the Emmys, in which a cast of self-congratulatory, MillSoc celebrities gave themselves awards and partied? No? Neither did anyone else, much, but those that did will have noticed a curious thing. The celebrity leftists didn't wear masks, but their servants did.

You'll be reminded of the Met Gala and Obama's birthday party, where rich and powerful socialists met together to celebrate their wealth, all the while waited upon by their masked serfs. Which raises several questions.

Obscene

Apart from the brazen hypocrisy of it all, how seriously do our rulers take their own own laws? Obviously not very when it comes to themselves. You wear the mask, serf, and we don't because we rule you. Science. And more seriously again, why this bizarre level of dissonance between truth and the law and our rulers?

Demented

Surely not because a self-perpetuating crew of charlatans, pastry cooks, knaves, weavers, crooks, acrobats and mountebanks are running the country for their own pandemic profit. Follow the money, it pays them to enforce lockdowns, shots and fear. 

Martyr

But when the masks are off there they were, partying, reveling in their shame. It's like Versailles, but gross, without the talent or beauty, and we all know what happened to that. Apologies to Antionette.

Still, as someone famously once said, "Let them eat cake. Oh, they can't, they're wearing masks."

Sun King,

LSP 

An Officer And A Gentleman

 

You may not have heard of Lieutenant Colonel Alfred Wintle MC, but he was a remarkable man. An eccentric Lion of the Empire who fought with great distinction in World War I and II. He was, needless to say, difficult. Here's a snapshot via the loathsome Wikipedia:

After the French surrender, Wintle demanded an aircraft (with which he intended to rally the French Air Force to fly their planes to Britain and continue fighting Germany from British air bases); when refused, he threatened an RAF officer (Air Commodore A.R. Boyle) with a gun. It was alleged that he had threatened to shoot himself and Boyle, and for this he was imprisoned in the Tower of London.

Wintle enjoyed himself in the Tower thus:

My life in the Tower had begun. How different it was from what I had expected. Officers at first cut me dead, thinking that I was some kind of traitor; but when news of my doings leaked out they could not do enough for me. My cell became the most popular meeting place in the garrison and I was as well cared for as if I had been at the Ritz. I would have a stroll in the (dry) moat after breakfast for exercise. Then sharp at eleven Guardsman McKie, detailed as my servant, would arrive from the officers' mess with a large whisky and ginger ale. He would find me already spick and span, for though I have a great regard for the Guards, they have not the gift to look after a cavalry officer's equipment. The morning would pass pleasantly. By noon visitors would begin to arrive. One or two always stayed to lunch. They always brought something with them. I remember one particularly succulent duck in aspic - it gave me indigestion - and a fine box of cigars brought by my family doctor. Tea time was elastic and informal. Visitors dropped in at intervals, usually bringing along bottles which were uncorked on the spot. I don't recall that any of them contained any tea. Dinner, on the other hand, was strictly formal. I dined sharp at eight and entertained only such guests as had been invited beforehand. After a few days of settling in, I was surprised to find that - as a way of life- being a prisoner in the Tower of London had its points.

You will note "for though I have a great regard for the Guards, they have not the gift to look after a cavalry officer's equipment." Quite. Here's Wintle after the war, at El Vino's on Fleet Street, from a 1999 letter to the Spectator:

Sir:

Frank Bower was not always able to eject unwanted patrons from El Vino (Letters, 1 May). One morning in the late Fifties, a West Indian workman entered what he thought was a pub and asked the proprietor for a pint of bitter. Empurpled with rage, embroidered waistcoat at bursting point, Bower was hustling him into Fleet Street when interrupted by a crisp military command from the back of the bar: 'That gentleman is a friend of mine. I have been expecting him. Kindly show him to my table.' Colonel Wintle - celebrated for inspecting the turn out of his German guards when a prisoner of war and for debagging a solicitor - had spoken.

Rising to greet his guest, Wintle trained his monocle on Bower and ordered, 'Pray bring us two small glasses of white wine.' When this had been drunk and a convivial conversation concluded, the Colonel and his new friend rose, shook hands and went their separate ways.

Wintle wore a monocle because his eye was blown out in the war

 

Yes, there were giants in those days, and thanks Anon for the link and make of this what you will.

Your Old Pal,

LSP

It's A Woke Woke World

Thanks, WWW, for the awesome infotoon.

Cheers,

LSP

Sunday Sermon

 

St. James says, "Do you not know that friendship with the world is enmity with God? Therefore whoever wishes to be a friend of the world makes himself an enemy of God."

At enmity with God, what a terrifying position to be in, and isn't that where we are now as a nation. For example, how many billions of dollars were made in profit over 30 years of war, which we curiously didn't win, and how much of that money was spent on the love of God and neighbor? None, to speak of. On the contrary, the cash flowed into the pockets of our rulers and their puppets, making them even richer than they were already.

Again, can you imagine any country claiming with any legitimacy that they worship God when they subsidize abortion to the tune of over $600 million annually. That's almost $2 million dollars a day, to kill children in the womb of a mother. A country which does that doesn't worship God, it worships some other thing.

I'll cut to the chase. America, to say nothing of any other country, Anglosphere, we're looking at you, has become worldly. We've become, as a nation, friends of the world, and people who love the world do all in their power to possess as much of the object of their desire as they can.

Thus, driven by prideful greed and vainglorious ambition, the worldly heap up for themselves money, possessions, power, and influence. After all, what's the point of all that cash when you can't fly your private jet to Davos and scheme the greater imposition of your will upon others. And the result?

James is clear. Discord, fighting, division, killing, and every kind of "vile practice." Is that not us, as a country, right now? I'll spare you the examples, all you have to do is throw a dart at the internet and pull out a story. But suffice to say, America's at enmity with God. 

The worldly, who rule and influence us, promote pride instead of humility, hatred instead of love, disbelief instead of faith, division instead of peace, death instead of life, and iniquity instead of righteousness. They are, when we pause to reflect, against the qualities which Christ revealed to us on the Cross.

They hate that, they're opposed to it, and mock, deride and blaspheme it, they are enemies of God. What a terrible position to be in, not least on account of its telos or end. Writing to the Philippians, St. Paul describes their character and fate, "They are enemies of the cross of Christ. Their end is destruction. Their god is the belly and they glory in their shame."

St. James is no less fierce, "Go to now, ye rich men, weep and howl for your miseries that shall come upon you. Your riches are corrupted, and your garments are motheaten. Your gold and silver is cankered; and the rust of them shall be a witness against you, and shall eat your flesh as it were fire."

The end of the way of the cross is paradoxically very different. As Christ teaches his uncomprehending disciples on the way to Capernaum, “The Son of man will be delivered into the hands of men, and they will kill him; and when he is killed, after three days he will rise.” 

He will rise, triumphant over Hell and death.

The way of humility, faith, love and righteousness is the way of life, the way of the Cross. Choose that and live by the grace of God.

Here Endeth the Lesson,

LSP

PS. Do you not think "Friends of The World" sounds like a Soros funded NGO? Just sayn.

You Wicked Old Fraud

 

Old Fraud

Look at this wicked old fraud, he's our top general. That's why he called up Chinese generals saying that he'd warn them before we attacked them, if we ever did.

Maybe because he's such a great general he led our troops into victory in Central Asia. Whoops. That's why he has so many medals, on account of all the wars he's won. But don't worry, zhe's busy fighting the race war. 

Mountebank

Gotta sort out that old white rage, eh? Whatever the hell that is, and in the meanwhile drone 10 Afghan civilians to death because "top ISIS-K leader." He called that "righteous." What a killer, what a wicked old politicized fraud mountebank shill of the NWO, and don't think for a second that the troops are pleased. They're not, trust me.

War's a racket, said someone important, and Woke Mountebank Fraud Milley exemplifies the maxim. Picture his afterlife in consultancy after leaving the service, Met Galas all 'round.

NWO Shill Loser

What utter turpitude, betrayal and, evidently, callous disregard for life itself. Sorry, ten Afghan peasant people, we've got some PR to do, time to die. 

Maybe you remember our Savior's words, "He was a murderer from the beginning."

ENDEX,

LSP