Carey has decided that I am her new experiment... She wants to see how long it takes me to go from talking to the rocks to where the rocks start talking to me. Many theories were advanced on this head; I believe that she is hoping that, unlike Donna (who hated the quartz), I will become its friend and start trying to lock myself into the artifact cabinet overnight. I am hoping that if I do learn to communicate with the rocks I will develop exciting super powers and be able to convince them to sort themselves by what has happened to them in the past. This, I believe, should be a sufficient miracle to have someone apply on my behalf for sainthood. The following existential questions have also come up:
If you were a rock, would you want to be washed, labled, and curated in your own little plastic bag, or would you rather be dumped back out in the field and then paved over? (although, it just occurred to me, if you're a rock, you probably experience things in geologic time and either of these things might make an interesting change from sitting in the clay for centuries watching the water go by)
Does a rock want to become a projectile point? I mean, you get hit on the head a lot and it probably gives you a headache, but then you can kill things...
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}