“Dumb as rock,” skips across conversations like a lone pebble traversing a gentle stream in Christ-like fashion. But are rocks truly dumb? And even if they were, what gives us the authority to deride and dismiss?
In a time of widespread micro-aggressions, where every offense is taken personally and the worst possible interpretation is accepted, I still have never seen anyone come to the defense of rocks. Not even geologists who, given their chosen profession, have plenty of time of their hands. Doesn’t seem right to me.
Rocks don’t take a vow of silence like liquored up monks. They don’t need to. They come and go as they please, drifting in and out of our lives, playing the long game. They can freely ignore our thoughtless barbs, knowing they aren’t going anywhere. They were here long before us and they’ll be here long after us.
It’s wise to never get into pointless debates with yammering fools. That is the rock’s mentality. They roll, fall, and crack depending on the situation. That is what dictates their movement. Dumb? Hardly. Sure, some have the ostentatiousness of a great Redwood (white cliffs of dover, I’m looking at you), but most are austere and unassuming. Keeping to themselves and out of harm’s way.
They have friends. Boy do they have friends. 65 million years ago they had a friend who settled a dispute they were having with the planet’s primary tenant. Needless to say, the eviction went off with plenty of fireworks.
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