On a remote patch of land there was a rock. It was, however, not a usual, do-nothing, run-of-the-mill sort of rock. It was an intellectual rock.
The intellectual rock knew many things, and had many thoughts to share. People seeking knowledge would come from far away to question the rock. They regarded it with awe and listened carefully to its discourses.
A young scientist happened to hear of the rock. He decided that if he could prove the intellectualism of the rock beyond any doubt, it would be a great discovery and would make him famous, so he set off to find the rock.
A crowd was gathered around the intellectual rock when the scientist arrived. He announced his intention and motioned the crowd to move back. He had a hammer in his hand.
The intellectual rock was aware of the hammer, and knew what it meant. The rock had to think quickly.
"If the scientist perceives my intellectualism," thought the rock, "he will smash me into pieces and examine me. That would be most unpleasant."
The scientist proceeded to question the rock for several hours, but the rock declined to provide any answers. The scientist gave up and went away, muttering under his breath as he departed, and the rock remained in one piece.
The intellectual rock had learned a valuable lesson: it reasoned that being taken for a usual, do-nothing, run-of-the-mill sort of rock was preferable to being smashed into bits. Thereafter it was loath to display any signs of intellectualism. It may have been only a rock, but it was not a fool.
