There's a connection between being a husband and being a farmer, in fact a farmer used to be known as a husbandman. The connection is not accidental, as the Earth has always been considered feminine. Man, as part of his duties and responsibilities as an image bearer of God, is to cultivate and plow the Earth. And much like a good man will lead his wife with gentleness and firmness, will cultivate her virtues and beauty, so a husbandman will cultivate the Earth, removing stones and weeds and briars that he might fertilized and plow and beautify otherwise fallow land to bring forth New Life. The plow is a masculine object, it parts the Earth in preparation that it might accept new seed. There is an obvious sexual connotation of the most wholesome nature. A degenerate and irresponsible man will scatter his seed across any land that he can, on the roadside, in the desert, in the swamp, almost haphazardly. The wicked man does not make a covenant with the land, he does not tend it or cultivated or ensure that it does bring a good crop. The good man on the other hand, binds himself to the land, he makes a vow with it, like a husband does with his bride, to love, to honor and obey, forsaking all others as long as they both shall live. That is why we are not to enter into relationship lightly, nor to forsake the homeland of our birth and people. A good man, a Christian, should marry only another Christian woman of good reputation, of high virtues, of Chastity, of honorable and Noble character. This is especially difficult in an age of degeneration and disillusion. But we are relearning these values, we are relearning the necessity of Chastity and fidelity, and honor and love for our people and our land.

It's time to claim the rainbow back for God 🌈 #corn

Stella Maris

The ones that have been following me some time already might remember the impact playing Death Stranding had on me last year.
So much so that I bought a pair of Salomon hiking boots and started going to the mountains very frequently.
The lockdown was quite tough on this since there were almost two months during which I couldn't leave my flat.
Fortunately that's over now.
The thing is that whenever I walk up and down the mountains I come across this weird guys I don't understand.
Trail runners.
They are the most incomprehensible of people.
And don't get me wrong, I hike very very fast. I walk a lot and I have great cardio conditioning so I can mostly cover 700 meters of ascent without stopping for a breath.
But these guys? They run haphazardly over rocks where chances of falling and splitting a leg in two are non-trivial.
A woman last Saturday passed by me running downhill and she almost didn't make it down in one piece.
She was also not very young either. Probably 50 years old already.
A fall at that age is not something to laugh about.
Bottom line, I think people nowadays are in much need of dopamine and do the lost outlandish things to get a little bit of it on the weekends.

The puer æternus feels sorrow while facing the absence of extraterrestrial life.
This is because of what Aimé Michel called "The Problem of Non-Contact".
Which in an adult and theological formulation would simply be the silence of God.
—@pesimismobiocosmico

The Gateway to the Great Temple at Baalbec - 1841 - David Roberts
Through the threshold and back.

Now therefore you are no more strangers and foreigners: but you are fellow citizens with the saints and the domestics of God, built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner stone: in whom all the building, being framed together, groweth up into an holy temple in the Lord.
—Ephesians 2:19-21

Eastern entrance of the Temple of Bacchus at Baalbec - ca. 1870 - Félix Bonfils
The handwritten text on the bottom left erroneously calls it Temple of Jupiter.

The stone which the builders rejected; the same is become the head of the corner.
—Psalm 117:22

牛力美的 - Æｓｔｈｅｔｉｃ　ｂｕｌｌ　ｓｔｒｅｎｇｔｈ