Torrential Rain and Mammon

Driving to the second Mass of the day was a bit of a deal because of torrential rain. Who wants to hydroplane across HWY 22 in the downpour? So I took it slow and wore a pair of Wellington boots to keep my 1% inside-the-beltway loafers dry.

In the sacristy I pointed to the boots and asked our MC, who's a renowned bronc champion, if he liked my "new church shoes." He shook his head.

"It's not that bad out there."

"Well c'mon, it was pretty much zero-viz coming up from the compound."

"Look. I'm not interested in your sad little stories, LSP."

"Yeah, said the rich man. You can't serve God and Mammon."

Wellingtons

And that's what the sermon was about, with reference to Dives and Lazarus. Note that the former isn't named in the Gospel, he's nameless and accordingly not written into the book of life. "I do not know you," says Christ, elsewhere, and, "Depart from me ye cursed, into the lake of eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you did not feed me."

A Random Fish

No, the rich man was too busy enjoying the mammonistic gravy train to love God or his neighbor and accordingly found his way to perdition, which is separated from heaven by a great chasm.

Don't Worship This

Some say the god of our age is Mammon. I'd think twice before you pledge allegiance to that particular deity.

God bless,

LSP

Diocese of Toronto Flies Over The Rainbow

Appalled

The Anglican Church of Canada (ACoC) flew over the rainbow this week, electing its first ever openly partnered gay bishop (OPGB), Keith Robertson. Robertson will serve as one of three Suffragan Bishops in the Diocese of Toronto.

Speaking after his election, Robertson stated that he would work for the "peace and unity" of the church and that he would be "a bishop for the whole church."

The peace and unity of the church is really important to me and I will work to continue that peace and unity as a bishop... I think LGBTQ clergy and lay people might naturally gravitate towards me looking for some leadership around the issue of full inclusion, but I absolutely see myself as a bishop for the whole church, including people who have a very different view of things than I do. I'm their bishop, too."

Well that's just it, isn't it; you're not our bishop. Bishops are centers of Apostolic unity in the church and that's exactly what Robertson is not. He can't be a bishop for the whole church because his OPGB lifestyle puts him outside the communion of the church, making him a locus of disunity and schism rather than unity. 

This means that Toronto's new Suffragan, despite good intentions, acts as an anti-bishop who will serve to further fragment the already scandalously divided Body of Christ. 

A Rainbow Unicorn

So well done, ACoC, for bravely flying over the rainbow and away from the church you claim to be a part of.

Be sure to dodge the unicorns on the way up.

LSP 

Mix it up, Fool!

Everyone's bored of "the usual spot" and stories of Bluegill rising from the depths and into the fry pan, and I don't blame you. It's been samey. So, with an eye on adventure, I went to the other side of lake Whitney dam, to the spillway, to see what was up.

I'll tell you what was up, SeaWorld. A brief recce from the top of the riprap told me there were plenty of fish in the channel, and in the pool beneath the fishing pier. Big Gar, up to 4' long, maybe larger, sizable catfish, suspended in wait of prey, schools of young Sand Bass darting about and who knows what else. Just all kinds of fish, visible through the technology of a pair of polarized Ugly Stick sunglasses. Cheap, maybe $10 at Walmart.

Excited at the prospect of catching a monster, I cast off with a light rod, 12lb test, a treble hook and a worm, weightless (WWR). Natural presentation and no resistance rules, says fishing wisdom. Well, let's see about that, I thought, cynically.

Kaboom! No sooner had the worm begun to sink than something hit it like a Rhodesian Light Infantry flying column. Thrash! Drag out! Rod bent double, and remember, it's a light rod. Then up came a Gar; they're gentle giants, for all their ferocious prehistoric teeth, and this was a young one. Back you go, my friend.

Just for kicks, I moved down the pier and cast off by the wall of the dam. There were big Catfish lurking in the depths, you could see them, and who knows, maybe they'd be interested in the weightless worm rig.

After a few minutes waiting, what cost patience?, something most certainly was. The fish tore out into mid-pool and dived ferociously for the bank, then back again. A fighter. This went on for maybe 5 minutes, which seemed like the 10 seconds of forever, until the fish was finished. I reeled him in. A Catfish, not a monster, but not far off, either. 

An hour or two later, Striper, Black Drum, and more Catfish than I could be bothered to count struck the WWR and came in. Pretty much every cast a fish, and good ones, too. If I'd had a cooler, well, there'd be a big fish fry tonight.

As it is, a couple of fat Bluegill are about to hit the pan.

Fish On,

LSP

B-Dog Under Investigation

Blue Congressman, who goes by B-Dog on Kik, is under investigation. So far authorities haven't found anything incriminating.

No Kik for B-Dog

Perhaps that's because he doesn't have thumbs, or even fingers, which makes it hard for him to use the Kik app.

No iPhone?!?

Or an iPhone. And, of course, he's been "done."

T-Dog

Some observers believe that T-Dog is "done" too, but that's a different story altogether.

Your Old Pal,

LSP

Tranquil

They say that at the Mass, or the Eucharist, please don't say "Yewkrist," time and eternity intersect as the sacrificial act of Calvary breaks through into the present moment, uniting us with the redemptive love of Christ. His Sacrifice becomes our sacrifice, however imperfectly, and finding atonement in Him we glimpse, fleetingly for sure, the peace which passes all understanding.

Just Some Goon With his Hand up a Puppet

Of course that doesn't happen at a Clown Mass, I thought to myself bitterly, casting off in search of Behemoth Bluegill. And there's a whole lot of something that passes all understandng when the liturgical dancers kick off, and some priestess goons around pretending to be something she doesn't even believe in anyway.

Nice Little Fryer!

Then the reverie was broken by a fish plowing into my hook and the fun was on. A nearby kid asked his dad why I was catching fish, "Well, he's got worms!" It's true, I did, and after reeling in Leviathan, I gave them a couple and a hook. "Thank you, sir, you're a gentleman and a scholar," said the Father; he was keen for his boy to get a fish, and so was I. He did, too, with a little patience.

You know, I think there's something pretty good about a Father and his son, or sons, out on the water fishing. 

As the sun set, I headed for the Compound, tranquil. And that was that.

LSP

Reporters Attacked in Charlotte!

Rioters attempted to throw an NBC affiliated reporter on a fire last night in downtown Charlotte, prompting some observers to ask, "What, only one? Try harder."

But seriously, would the networks change their narrative if more of them were attacked by Boosie Badazz fans? While you ponder that, you can listen to Lil Boosie here.

In other news, Hillary's on video shouting, "Why aren't I 50 points ahead!" Simple answer, "Because you're terrible."

Carry on,

LSP

The Charlotte Cook-Off

Everyone's seen the pictures and videos of Charlotte cooking off because a black cop with a gun shot a black thug with a gun. But that's not how the Soros funded looters saw it.

Keith Lamont was a "peaceful family man," who was "disabled" and guilty of carrying nothing more deadly than a "book" when he was shot.

Maybe Lamont's peace-loving nature was a contributing factor in being sentenced to 7 years in prison, in 2005, for aggravated assault with a deadly weapon. Or his conviction in 2004 of a misdemeanor assault with a deadly weapon. And what about that "book"?

Some people say it looks an awful lot like a gun. But what can we say? Obviously another case of an unprovoked attack on academia.

Ferguson, Baltimore, Dallas, Milwaukee, Charlotte and on. 

Well done, Team Obama. Epic fail.

LSP

The Feast of St. Matthew

It's the Feast of St. Matthew, who was a publican and a bad sinner who got the call. Here's the Collect:

O ALMIGHTY God, who by thy blessed Son didst call Matthew from the recipt of custom to be an Apostle and Evangelist; Grant us grace to forsake all covetous desires, and inordinate love of riches, and to follow the same thy Son Jesus Christ, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Ghost, one God, world without end. Amen.

Now, there's a right way to worship God,

And a wrong way.

You decide which is which.

God bless,

LSP

Satanic Temple Moves to Salem. Go Figure

The Satanic Temple, led by Lucien Greaves, aka Doug Mesner, is setting up shop in America's witchcraft capital, Salem, where the devil cult will occupy an attractive Victorian house.

“The history of Salem is also part of the history of Satanism, I feel that [Salem] is a very appropriate place for this,” stated Mesner.

The Satanic Temple boasts 40,000 adherents. How many of those are Episcopal bishops and members of Hillary's campaign team is currently unknown.

Note well: The Satanic Temple's brazen idol, Baphomet, is trans.

Out demons, out,

LSP

We Out Like Taliban

After a strangely peaceful Indian summer lull of a few weeks, it seems that America's back to normal, with terrorist attacks that aren't terrorist attacks committed by a Muslim who isn't a Muslim, and a race riot that isn't a race riot cooking off in Charlotte.

"We out like Taliban!" shouted one rioter. No, you're not out like Taliban, you're out like a crew of out of control, ghetto thugs looking for the nearest Walmart to loot. And it looks like they found one.

A Typical Taliban With a Looted Daisy Red Rider BB Gun

As one noted ironist observed, "Walmart looted of flat screens and iPads? #Justice." The cause of the shooting? A black man with a gun was shot by a black policeman with a gun. Which black life mattered most?

You decide.

LSP

Get Out And Fish

The international readership of this popular mind blog aren't slow when it comes to editorial advice. "Hey, LSP," they say, "Less God and more fishin'!" It's a very good thing, then, that I was able to swing by the lake today on the way back from visiting the sick.

I set up on the bank opposite my usual spot because I was looking for adventure and sure enough, there were plenty of fish cruising the submerged limestone bank. Hopes up, it was time to cast off with the tried and true weightless worm rig (WWR), but the fish were slow to bite, perhaps because it was pushing 100* in the shade. Still, a few took the bait and before long I'd tallied up a decent little catch of Bluegill.

But what I really wanted was a school of leaping, blitzing Bass to come into the shore, and the chance to get on them with topwater lures. Good action when you can get it and the backup rod was ready for just that, rigged for the surface with a Heddon Tiny Torpedo. True to form, the fish were jumping about 100 feet off the bank, would they get any closer?

Looking Over Yonder at the Usual Spot

The question was called by a couple of young Lakesters, "Y'all caught 'nyfish?" and I  told them I had. "You bet, Bluegill, but look at that, jumping Bass. Set up for topwater." Right at that moment the line bent low and something fierce took the worm and started to run, I love that feeling, fish on! And it was, another Bluegill, but a good one. I reeled him in. "Nice Perch," said my new fishing friend and walked down the bank with his pal to try their luck.

That didn't happen for them and before long they were doing backflips off the bluff and "singing" country rap. I scorn country rap and moved away in search of a better spot. A few casts later, something hit my worm like a miniature freight train, and lo and behold, out came a baby Bass. A ferocious little thing, and that's put me in mind to go after his larger cousins.

With apologies to the "Less God Brigade," I thank Him for the opportunity to get out to the glassy waters of the lake and the chance to fish under the big Texan sky. There's peace in that and excitement, too, when the fish are on.

Tight lines,

LSP

Skittles

Well, would you?

LSP