Ask the Medium

Skiatatuk Speaks
Communiqué No. 10,450

Background:
One of our staffers, who chooses to remain anonymous, has for several decades (long before the channeling fad) been able to alter his/her consciousness (he/she refuses to use the term, "go into a trance") and then speak with a different voice and a different personality. His/her partner has dutifully recorded all sessions. As you will note from the number above, this has been going on for a while. The personality who speaks long ago announced that it wished to be addressed as "Skiatatuk," with--please note--the accents on the second and fourth syllables. Thus: skee-AH-tah-TOOK. Pretentious? Who's to say.

Readers are invited to submit questions. Because of the volume of submissions, Skiatatuk will respond only to queries which we publish.

Query
Dear Skiatatuk,

I am so ashamed, but I need help desperately. Please try to imagine how difficult it is for me to write this, and then to actually click on "SEND". I am putting myself in your hands, trusting that you will respect my anonymity.

My problem is: I have fallen in love with my proctologist.

I have no idea whether he has any feelings for me, so to speak. All I know is, I've never felt such, warm, tender, senstive, well-lubricated fingers.

Now, though, my polyps have been removed, and my anal warts are responding well to topical treatment. I think of Dr. X night and day, but I have no reason to make an appointment. Yet I must see him again. Please help.
                                                         --Wartless in Seattle


Response
My dear, rectally challenged child, if Skiatatuk had known what kind of questions we would be receiving via the Internet, we would never have agreed to this online series of séances.

Still, here we are, so I will give you the benefit of a smidgen of my eternal perspective and a tiny bit of my infinity of experience.

I see from the Akashic Records, that you were not quite completely forthcoming in your query. You neglected to reveal to us that you are in fact the younger sibling of your proctologist's wife.

(Aside to the reader who may be thinking of submitting a query: Please bear in mind that while Skiatatuk does not know all, we know a hell of a lot more that your average, garden-of-Eden-variety human. When you query us, rule one should be: Full disclosure. Got that? Full disclosure.)

My child, ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? What kind of unresolved family issues are in play here? First of all, you apparently indulge in unprotected sex. Then you go to your sister's husband to get the resulting problems treated. Then you fall in love with him.

You realize this whole situation is your own doing. A condom or two would've prevented your current heart pangs. Lacking that, choosing a different proctologist would've prevented it.

As Molly Ivins, the great Texas philosopher has said, Rule One of holes is, when you discover you are in one, stop digging.

Skiatatuk sees two ways out of this mess for you:

1. Get a life.

2. Failing that, book passage on the QE2's next around the world voyage. We are confident that three months at sea with a shipload of 2,000 rich people (at least 20 of whom, we guarantee, will be proctologists) will lead you into a happier sub-derrière relationship.

END

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