Last May, The Institute of Sandstone, NY, awarded me a Doctorate of Geological Psychology. What a thrill! Ceremonies were held at Smith and Wesson .357 Magnum High School. Only three fatalities were reported.
After years of hard work, I am now a Rock Whisperer. Or as my father said, “a stupid, worthless rock whatever-you-call-it”.
Anyway, Mother was proud.
You probably have at least one rock in your yard. According to several ancient world-class religions, every object in the Universe has a soul. No kidding. An asteroid has a soul. Ever wonder why they fly so close to Earth at times? That’s a warning. Learn to be kind and loving, stop the wars and partisan politics, or the next time: POW! The earth breaks into a trillion pieces and everybody dies.
A pencil, a toilet, your neighbor’s lawnmower you want to steal, all have a soul. Theoretically, you can learn to whisper to any object. I have chosen to whisper exclusively to rocks.
Pick up a rock. Any rock. Most of them are deeply depressed. They won’t move unless you give them a good, swift kick in the butt. They live in constant fear that a lawnmower will batter them or a smelly psychopathic brat will pick it up and throw it through a school window. And what can be sadder when it realizes it accomplished nothing during the 100,000,000 years of its existence?
Grim picture, isn’t it? I know you. You are a compassionate person with a great love of nature. Look at your rock, YOUR rock, the one in your hand. Squeeze it. Run your fingers along its skin. Stare at it and tell me if you are not moved by its prolonged anguish?
For the first time is history, we can lift the dark cloud of misery afflicting our protolithic friends. Send your rock to me and only me… along with a small check… very small check… of only $99.99.
For this generous price, I shall give your beloved prehistoric relic My PERSONAL attention for three eight-hour business days. It and I shall work to boost its self-esteem, drive out evil spirits, and clean off unsightly fungus and lichen.
Send me an extra $199.99, I will authenticate up to three historical events your pet had witnessed.
Dallas, November 22, 1963, your rock was embedded in the famed grassy knoll. The Mafia assassin slipped on it after he shot our President Kennedy. Witnesses reported that the killer cursed at the rock, but the Warren Commission didn’t believe them.
Paris on 16 October 1793 at 12:15 p.m., when Marie Antoinette suffered death by guillotine. The executioner sharpened the blade with your rock. It was also drenched in her blood as her head fell into the basket.
Good Friday 33CE in Jerusalem. A Pharisee threw it at Jesus as He struggled up Calvary Hill for his crucifixion.
By the way, you won’t notice any improvement in Rocky’s mood for about a hundred years. Oh, my! You’ll be dead by then, won’t you? Too bad!
With Universal Love for All Objects,
Doctor Conrad Bilgermann, RW