Hard Rock

It’s dark and dank here in your home…no, that wasn’t an insult. It is dark. It is wet and has a slight musty odor. It is, by definition, dark and dank.

Now don’t you go high and mighty calling me pedantic…of course I know what it means…no, I don’t need you to…I told you. I’m not pedantic and I know what it means. No, pedantic is not the same as condescending.

I prefer to be called pedantic to being called condescending, especially since it is so much more accurate, and pedantry is not in any way a reflection upon the person with whom you are speaking and more…I see what you did there. That was quite rude, you know.

You’re not allowed to give me the silent treatment. What do you mean you’re not really talking, of course you’re…I don’t care if you’re a rock. Your being a rock has no bearing on your sentience…

How can you not be sentient. Yes, yes, I realize that it usually requires that you be ambulatory, or such is assumed, but for you to understand the requirements of being…of course you understand the…now let’s not get back into the nature of reality conversation again. I actually thought I was a tree for two days after that last one. Let me tell you, believing you’re a tree and suddenly toppling to the ground is a traumatic experience.

Of course I fell asleep standing up. I know that, but since I thought I was a tree at the time…how is my believing you are talking to me the same as my believing I was a tree? It was a conversation you started that convinced me I was…

I am NOT simple minded. I’ll have you know that I received…oh, you already know. We already had this conversation before? If you say so, but I’m sure I would have remembered it…

You are all over the place today, you know that…oh, very funny. That was rock humor, wasn’t it. If you didn’t weight so much, I would throw you across the room.

I’ll have you know that there’s now a god of small rocks so even the pantheon is getting behind the movement…what do you want me to call it? The language was created by and for the ambulatory, so it has idioms that don’t translate well to the lithoid or lithoid adjacent…

What are you talking about his rocks being nothing more than magic imitating life. And I suppose you are going to tell me that Roggan didn’t properly understand the place of rocks in the greater scheme of…of course I knew…well I knew of Roggan. He revered all lithoid life forms.

Roggan was no more insane than you are…Oh, I see what you did there. Because you’re convinced that you’re just a figment of my imagination, that makes you insane. Lots of people think they’re figments of other people’s imaginations. It’s a common belief system, and I appreciate that you are casing me in the role of…

What do you mean you don’t think I’m a god? You think I’m a lonely, smelly, half dead, crazy hermit who has invented an entire world and the people in it to fill the aching void left behind by my abandonment of society? That’s not even true. Merkl and Roggan are real, I tell you…

Wait, now you’ve decided that I’m a figment of my own imagination?

I’m not talking to you anymore.

No, I’m giving you the silent treatment. Eat my passive-aggressiveness and choke…

Wait a minute…how in the world could you tell I’m smelly if you don’t have an olfactory organ?

Image by Simon Weaner