Shmoop's crack team of P.I.s recently broke into the offices of Dr. Logos, noted therapist to the gods. Behind a secret panel in the wall, we found a treasure trove of recordings. The following is a transcript of Dr. Logos' house call—or should we say mountain call—to a very sad Atlas.
Dr. Logos: Your daughters are very worried about you, Atlas.
Atlas: I'm sure that isn't true.
Dr. Logos: Both the Hesperides and Pleiades came to me.
Atlas: Did they now? Maybe instead of spending so much time with you, they ought to come by and see their dear old dad once in awhile.
Dr. Logos: They tell me you've been very depressed.
Atlas: I'm doomed to hold up the sky for all eternity. Of course I'm depressed.
Dr. Logos: Interesting.
Atlas: It's not interesting at all. It's incredibly boring. That's the worst part, doctor. It's not the weight of the sky. I mean, sure, the sky is incredibly heavy, but I'm incredibly strong, so it balances out. It's having to stand here bent over in one place all day and all night. I hold up all of the beautiful stars, but mostly I just get to stare at my big titanic feet.
Dr. Logos: I can see how that would be tedious.
Atlas: Tedious?! Tedious isn't the word. It's mind-numbing, grueling torture. And I don't deserve it.
Dr. Logos: You feel you're being punished unfairly?
Atlas: What did I really do wrong? Kronos was the one going around swallowing his own children. Did I stand by him when Zeus launched his rebellion? Sure. He was my king. What else could I do? Don't you see how unfair this is?
Dr. Logos: It isn't my place to say.
Atlas: What is your place then? What exactly is your purpose here?
Dr. Logos: Your daughters simply thought that you could express your feelings to me in a way that you couldn't to anyone else.
Atlas: I already told you that I'm depressed.
Dr. Logos: Yes.
Atlas: What else do you need?
Dr. Logos: What else do you need to tell me?
Atlas: Okay, do you know what I think about? Do you know what I think about non-stop?
Dr. Logos: Go on...
Atlas: What would happen if I just let go? You know... what would happen if I just let the sky fall?
Dr. Logos: Oh dear, that doesn't seem at all advisable.
Atlas: Why not? Who cares? I'm stuck here for all eternity anyway. This isn't a life.
Dr. Logos: Many others would die if you let the sky fall.
Atlas: What do I care? They don't care about me. Most people don't even believe I exist anymore. Heck, most of these dummies even think I'm the guy who holds up the earth and not the sky.
Dr. Logos: Yes, that is a popular misconception.
Atlas: Well, I'm sick of it. I'm going to do it. I'm going to let it all come crashing down. Nobody's going to have Atlas to kick around anymore. What do you think about that, Dr. Logos?
Dr. Logos: Well, I think that's a very bad idea.
Atlas: Too bad. Here it comes, doc. The moon is going to crash into the Earth! The stars are going to blaze into the sea! This world will crumble and fall into the black pit of Tartarus, and I don't care! Let them weep! Let them weep!
Dr. Logos: NO! WAIT!
[A huge rumbling is heard. It's as if the entire universe is on the verge of a landslide.
Suddenly, it all goes quiet.]
Dr. Logos: What happened?
Atlas: Nothing. Go away.
Dr. Logos: The sky didn't fall. You had a change of heart?
Atlas: My arms are stuck.
Dr. Logos: What's that?
Atlas: I've been standing here so long that my joints have fused together.
Dr. Logos: Ah, I see.
Atlas: And I thought my life couldn't get any more humiliating than it already was…
Dr. Logos:What can I do for you?
Atlas: Go find Perseus and get him to bring Medusa's head. I just want to turn to stone.