I started musing again on stones after visiting Darbs’ house. Darbs has a unique thought process I might write a separate post about it. From that stone his son had picked up in New York’s Central Park, I was led (astray) into this stone of Jacob and beyond. Enjoy the stone story:
Tweets from Genesis 28-29:
- Isaac blessed Jacob for him to marry any of the daughters of his uncle Laban in faraway Haran.
- Jacob along the way, took a stone, put it under his head, slept under the starlights, and dreamt of an enchanting stairway to heaven. (Note: Ecstasy was not invented yet just in case your naughty imagination is ruling this in.) God did his blessing monologue.
- Neither the aroma of a cappuccino nor the shout of “pandesal!” woke him up. He just did pipol.
- The stone he made as his pillow, he made into an altar for God, contrary to modern hearsay of a monitor desk.
- There is no record of a carinderia stopover but he just continued his escapade until he reached Haran, not on some $2o,000 per meal New York French resto.
- He came to a well with droves of sheeps near it, and not a long Presidential entourage crowding the White House. But a big stone covered the mouth of the well. “There goes the root of the problem of thirst of these sheeps,” thought Jacob – the big, damned, blocking stone. Here’s one more spam: the big, damned, blocking stone (BDBS) can only be removed with the strength of all the shepherds in the village gathered. More damned thoughts from Jacob.
- Tsadaaan. Guess who’s coming? Rachel, Laban’s younger daughter. Right in that EB moment, Jacob wanted to conquer her by marrying her. “Gosh, Rachel and this well, they’re both life-giving, both sources of fertility,” Jacob muses. But first, Jacob had to be a shepherd to these thirsty sheeps before he could shepherd his own family with the likeable Rachel. Don’t ask me where he scientifically got the strength. But singlehandedly as in “tumabi kayo!”, he rolled the big, damned, blocking stone and water gushes forth for the sheeps. “Kiss, kiss,” shouted the awed kilig shepherds. He rendered a French one not exactly knowing how it was called.
- Haha. Please read the real, written “tweet” to know that the shepherds did not shout and the French label was not that ancient.
- More on the big, damned, blocking stone in my next post. Meanwhile, let me leave you with an ala-Regine high-pitched question: “Are you the next big, damned, blocking stone?”
Photo credit: Darbs