Monoliths don’t specialize in high-end yoga apparel. Nor do they prefer Cadillacs. You’ll never find a monolith paying taxes. Monoliths don’t dissemble. If ever you see a Monolith playing piano, rest assured, you are totally bananapants. Monoliths are rocks. Giant, mind-boggling rocks. Sometimes they join the party via erosion, other times, they exist in cinematic lenses as enigmatic challenges to our monkey brains. Often they stand oblivious to incorrect naming translations and myths about pregnant, architectural spirits. All of which is to say, they are open to interpretation but are never meaningless. This week may be a monolilth, Members, but massive doesn’t necessarily mean mute. The Sphinx has plenty to say and surely, some of it is funny.