Mexicans On The Roof

 

Never a dull moment at the Compound. Today we had Mexicans on the Roof? Why? Because the roof over the church hall was rotten and had to be replaced and the Hernandez crew gave us the best deal. So off they went, crashing and banging and nailing from 0800.

Not that I'm complaining, those boys work hard, for a realistic price and sure enough, they'd removed rotten shingles and laid a new set by end of play. Of course they wanted a check for fiddy percent on completion.

Well, they'll get get that tomorrow morrow morning. And what a good gang, hard working, polite, quick and hey, they got the job done at a good price. Were those boys wearing gold crucifixes? Yes they were, and I like that too.

So here we are, new roof on and all the better for it. Beto, on the other hand, is suffering from MillSoc MonkeyPox. Count your blessings as you find 'em, eh?

Rule Britannia,

LSP

What An Epic Loser

 

what a rich dumbass

Yes, we're talking about Beto. No so much a politician as a failed faux/mex sandwich. Millionare socialist Beto, net worth $6,667,013, is sick with a bacterial infection, monkeypox?, and can't campaign no more.

no one's ever even liked you, Beto

Oh dear, what a disaster, said no on ever. Beto's famous for marrying money and then spending it on his pathetic, loser, dime bag attempt to seize power and get even richer. But zhe keeps on losing. 

here's Kasich, yet another sandwich fraud

Far-sighted readers may remember the Kasich, another two-bit sandwich attempt at power. Imagine the scene, there you are in some beastly suburb of Philly, "I'll have a Kasich lite anna Beto, hold the mustard." Checkout stops, a pause, "You wanna discount for your two losers?"

I rest my case,

LSP

The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down

 

No thanks to the beasts, Grant and Sherman. At the checkout counter, "Where you from?" Boy, "10th Mountain." Moment of reflection, "From the North?" Quick as a flash, "You calling me a dam Yankee?" Pause, "Nossir, but he's from England."

He looked at me, full of war, but we were at peace, "That's different," he grinned, and so it was.

Rise up Southron,

LSP

Go Green

 

How awesome it is to go green and save the planet! said every infantile 16 year old girl ever. But hey, good call, here's an infographic:

go green serfs

Europe deindustrializes? Hurray! Yes, back to the plow and the furrow. And how ya gonna heat your house? By chopping wood? How very heimat. But it's worth it because Ukraine. Don't get me wrong, by all means go back to hunter gather status but if you do don't complain when the Russkies and ChiComs rule.

shocking bad taste

Whatever. Curry here at the Compound while we still have electricity, light and meat, chicken. Then we'll go green, just like all those other seaside millionaires on Martha's Vinyard.

Your Eco Friend,

LSP

Sunday Sermon

 

Trads, try not to scorn me but we use the new-fangled three year lectionary in the missions, which means today's Gospel was Luke 14:1, 7-14. Here, Jesus is at a feast held by a ruler of the pharisees and he gives, on the face of it, a simple warning against pride.

When you're invited to a wedding feast don't go for the seat of honor lest you're cast down in shame to a lower place. Instead, go for the lower place and be invited up. He concludes, "He who exalts himself will be humbled and he who humbles himself will be exalted."

How that must have stung in such exalted company. Woe to you pharisees! You tithe and go for the seats of honor at the synagogue, you make long prayers and while you're at it devour widow's houses. "Ye are as graves," spiritually dead.

We can imagine the dinner party's host shifting uneasily as he's served five star from his slaves, and we can also imagine the Savior holding the man's gaze, eye to eye. The Word pinning the darkness to itself, and of course the pharisee can't complain; God abhors the proud, they are repellent to him, the Law and Prophets make this clear. Our Lady exults, "He has cast down the mighty from their seat and exalted the humble and meek." But why are the proud so egregious in the eyes of God?

Because they're ugly in themselves. "Look at me, I am so very, very important," said the junior British Army officer, fresh out of Sandhurst. to the platoon and the world. I know, a certain arrogance goes with the trade, but still, no one likes that man, not me, not you, not God. Again, pride is the start of sin, a well-head of wickedness. What evil will a proud, self-obsessed, exalted man not commit? More seriously, this deluded, luciferean attitude of heart and mind, of soul, is idolatrous.

The proud man sets himself up against God, he's forgotten "it is he that hath made us and not we ourselves." And therein lies disaster, you cannot go against God, reality itself, and stand. The math doesn't work. What a warning to the pharisees, what a warning to our present age.

Are we not at the xenith, the pyramid peak of rebellion against God? What would the spirit of the age, the zeitgeist look like if was a person? Hideous thought. I tell you, its head would be so swollen with self-importance that it couldn't fit through the door posts of the narrow gate which leads to the marriage feast, to heaven. 

Caveat in mind,  what a blessing that the people of the missions and all over the world came together in humility to worship God, to adore Christ as their sovereign King and Lord, to hear his revealed Word and be nourished by the Sacrament of the Altar in which we find union with the one perfect sacrifice of our Savior.

Domine non sum dignus

May God give us the grace to go out into the world and invite the "maimed, the lame, the blind," all those wounded by sin, to the Feast, to the heavenly banquet, even as we ourselves have been invited by the author and perfecter of our faith.

Ad Maiorem,

LSP

Clubs

 

Have you noticed there's this weird axiom or principle. Viz. Don't go to war against Russia."Ha, ha!" you say, "We are so powerful now that we can defeat that puny 13 time zone state, with its peasant ways and backwards obsession with artillery." Like how weird, here's a country which actually makes shells for its guns, how primitive and stupid.

Then there's Western Europe, which has gambled for decades on never, ever having to fight another kinetic war. You know, with guns and missiles and actual soldiers. Oops.

In other news, the Eagles are gearing up for an RV in London. This means, for me, revitalizing club memberships. Witch one? I hear the yuck Reform's going cheap. Then there's the nasty National Liberal Club. Abhorrent, but think of the reciprocity.

The Bangalore Club, the Bermuda Yacht Club, our very own Petroleum, and on across the world. And you get a beautiful Thames Embankment terrace, which we love. And reciprocal at the good old East India and the nasty Army club in DC.

Ad pursuit of happiness,

LSP

Tim Page RIP

Thanks to Wild I know that legendary war photographer Tim Page has died in his late 70s, may he rest in peace. Page was remarkable for his photography of the SE Asian conflict and I wish I'd met him.

But it wasn't to be, he was doubtless more concerned with other things, like moving to Australia, curiously. Brisbane aside, Page certainly shot the war, respect.

I first heard about him from Michael Herr's psychedelic book Dispatches, which had a deleterious impact on several levels. Regardless, Page's photography was outstanding.

May he rest in peace. In related news, a Gathering of Eagles is scheduled in London Sept/Oct, depending on Whitehall. See you there, Mandarins nothwithstanding, on the steps of St. Paul's.

Lee Ho Fooks,

LSP

SHIA CONVERTS TO CATHOLICISM

 

hmmm, note WHITE WOLF

Yes, we live in an age of miracle and wonder, Shia LaBeouf has converted to traditional Roman Catholicism. No, this isn't from the Babylon Bee, the Onion or the autists at /pol, Shia's actually done it, he's embraced the Faith. Far out, it wasn't always this way:

Lampooned in the pages of this popular mind blog and relentlessly attacked by 4Chan basement dwellers, don't say Shadilay, for being a two-bit millionaire socialist fraud, Shia found his life spiraling out of control. So to save his plummeting career and possibly his life, the actor accepted a part as St. Padre Pio in an upcoming movie.

wow

Moved by the Spirit and his experience living with Capuchin friars, to say nothing of learning the Latin Mass, Shia converted. I know, you couldn't make it up if you tried, but such is grace, here's Fox, via the NYP:

“I know now that God was using my ego to draw me to Him. Drawing me away from worldly desires. It was all happening simultaneously. But there would have been no impetus for me to get in my car, drive up [to the monastery] if I didn’t think, ‘Oh, I’m gonna save my career.'” 

While researching and performing the role, however, LaBeouf said he felt “tricked” by God.

“And when I got here, a switch happened. It was like Three-Card Monte. It was like someone tricked me into it, it felt like,” the actor recounted. “Not in a bad way. In a way that I couldn’t see it. I was so close to it that I couldn’t see it. I see it differently now that time has passed.”

There is, says the Good Book, more joy in heaven over one sinner that repents than over ninety-nine self-righteous prig hypocrites that don't. And note this, all ye doomers, if it can happen to him there's hope for us all yet.

Well done, Shia, keep it up, love you brother.

Your Old Pal,

LSP

Under Glowering Skies

No foreign sky protected me,

no stranger's wing shielded my face.

I stand as witness to the common lot,

survivor of that time, that place. 

(Anna Akhmatova)

What remained after the flood? For us, we few survivors? A glowering sky for sure, that much is constant.

And shacks, somehow these too remain.

As does the Dojo. Kick 'em out, kids, before you too are washed away in the flood.

But trees still stand. What happens here is that roots destroy the sidewalk which no one walks on, so the Town in its wisdom cuts down the trees. Idiots.

So back again to the Compound, unscathed, frosty, our enemy the Weather threatening. But questions remain.

Have we paid too much Climate Tax, too little, or is this an issue caused by prayer? Pray for rain, God agrees, cause and effect. Problem, solution. But note how abundantly our Creator provides this. 

Do you detect judgment?

LSP

Climate Change Eschaton

 

This small farming community in North central Texas faced down ferocious storms on Monday, but it was nothing compared to Dallas. Our Old Adversary, the Weather, changed with a vengeance and flooded the Metrosprawl.

Like no kidding. Torrential rain turned suburban streets into raging torrents and shut down the Mix Master, an insane highway complex in the center of town which is a nightmare at the best of times. A woman died in Mesquite, caught in her car as it was carried under by the current. May she rest in peace.

Even the world famous Margaret Hunt bridge was threatened with disaster as the waters rose with primal, apocalyptic fury. Yes, the levees hold, for now. And it's a here and now issue because, apparently, that's not some kind of God-given thing. Work it out, Dallas.

In the meanwhile, Ma LSP's house rests on high ground and I'll be sure to swing by and make sure all's well, safe from marauding hordes of waterborne looters. On that note, smart people are investing in BOATS.

Row Jimmy row,

LSP

Monday Admonishment

 

Who do you love? Your truck, your money, the British Army, what's left of it, the ritual of the Mass itself?, the idea of Rhodesia and the Selous Scouts? How very awesome, until it isn't.

I tell you, readers, there's no luggage rack on the back of a hearse; so store up treasure in heaven, strive for eternal value. Which reminds me of all these young brokers in London, back in the day, "Value!" they'd shout, while hoisting yet another champagne bottle before they got busted for *dealing.

Gross, eh, picture the scene, all kinds of hi-spirits. That in mind, crazy rain here and we thank God for this. Providence, kids, is both loving and implacable.

Your Old Pal,

LSP

Yet Another Sunday Sermon -- WARNING GRAPHIC

I'm not a contractor, never have been, never will be, just a humble LSP, but I do know this. 

Roddy walked into our South Ken office in '97, in tears, positively weeping, all 6.4 of him. Why? Because Lady Di had died and he'd just visited her multi-candlelit shrine. "Why are you crying, Roddy?" asked the Guv'nor. "Because she... she... died!"

Our boss paused, "But Roddy, you're a fkn arms dealer." And he was; tragedy meet mourner and, to be fair, what a neat guy. He sold missiles and drove a Porsche through West London while threatening to invite me to the Special Forces Club. 

Drive Safe.

Your Old Pal,

LSP