What's REALLY happening.

[Cain]

[Doktor Howl]

Also this

[chaotic neutral observer]

Statistics don't lie.

[Doktor Howl]

Cramulism, (noun): The process whereby a thing that had some inherent budding merit is driven down in quality by low-quality intermediaries, inadvisable practices, or a willful effort launched in a bid to keep a lesser being from appearing to be outclassed, whether true or not. Also relates to the promotion of that which had diddly-squat going for it in the first place, such as the 70s rock band Angel or the television show Airwolf.

[Doktor Howl]

Crammed, (adjective):  Not really crazy in the usual sense, but someone behaves like such a butthead, you lose your cool and vent on them as if you had lost that proverbial last nerve.  Sometimes you HAVE and it takes some time to grow back. Anyway, you were behaving reasonably well until they started up with that crap, so they deserved it. May involve grannies.

[Doktor Howl]

I remember that one time in Boston, when I met Cramulus and his shady pal Cainad.  By the end of the day, I was exhausted and pissed off.  I said to Cramulus, "You know, despite all your hype, fisting Joel Osteen congregation members is not a substitute for a healthy diet and regular exercise."

He just smiled that shit-eating smile of his and said, "We'll see who gets rich first, Dok."

And damned if he wasn't right.  But at what cost?  I'd say "his soul", if he HAD one.  I'd say "his moral code," if that wasn't obviously a howling abyss.

So I guess it cost him nothing...But it's worth mentioning that nobody has seen Cainad in years.

[Doktor Howl]

I was never really comfortable about telling you guys how I really got where I am today, but this is a thread about what's real, so I guess I better.

LMNO and I were on a tag team for the regional SMACKDOWN SUNDAY championships, and we drew Cramulus and Cainad for our first round opponents.  I was feeling pretty good, a little nervous, when I heard someone clear their throat behind me.  We turned around, and Goddamn if it wasn't MR ROGERS.

He said "Whatever happens in the ring, I want you to remember that you two boys are unique and special, and I like you just the way you are."

I choked up a little bit, but then he said "Only I bet against you.  I mean, this IS a smackdown, and even though I think you are great people, I didn't get this rich by betting like a fan."

I was devastated, but then the bell rang and Cramulus came across the mat with his facial hair all sticking out like it does when he perceives a threat, and then and then and then..

...I woke up working for a weapons company in a shitty border town, and LMNO is encased, like a mosquito in amber, in a world of completely inexplicable voodoo finance.

And I never saw Mister Rogers again.

[Eater of Clowns]

When Cramulon Enterprises first moved into my home city I thought, Great! We could really use the industry in this run down mill town. The city council waved them into the biggest industrial park plot they could find, way over in the North End, where the waste treatment facility was supposed to be. We just about had a parade.

I was down on my luck myself, having recently been deposed by unlawful coup from my position as a certain Central American nation. Thinking with my tail brain I figured they'd want some new employees. I went straight to the shop. The line was around the building.

After the fourth day, we started getting a little suspicious. I was warming up a can of beans around the Line Section 12 trash fire when it happened. Cramulus himself was making the rounds or, more appropriately, the straights.

Cram! Hey Cram it's me, EoC! Remember your old pal? I cried out.

He stopped and said, Well sure, of course buddy good to see you again. Hey be a trooper and hand out these new hiree packets to the rest of your section for me? I gotta run I'll be right back.

He slapped a wad of strangely wet papers into my hand and ran off. I haven't seen him since. Anyway things turned out okay. I met my girl in that line, pretty thing from Section 11. They said our love was forbidden but I'd like to see them say that to our daughter. She'll be 4 soon and one day our spots in line will be hers. Damn fine man, that Cram, doing this for our community.

[Doktor Howl]

When Cramulon Enterprises first moved into my home city I thought, Great! We could really use the industry in this run down mill town. The city council waved them into the biggest industrial park plot they could find, way over in the North End, where the waste treatment facility was supposed to be. We just about had a parade.

I was down on my luck myself, having recently been deposed by unlawful coup from my position as a certain Central American nation. Thinking with my tail brain I figured they'd want some new employees. I went straight to the shop. The line was around the building.

After the fourth day, we started getting a little suspicious. I was warming up a can of beans around the Line Section 12 trash fire when it happened. Cramulus himself was making the rounds or, more appropriately, the straights.

Cram! Hey Cram it's me, EoC! Remember your old pal? I cried out.

He stopped and said, Well sure, of course buddy good to see you again. Hey be a trooper and hand out these new hiree packets to the rest of your section for me? I gotta run I'll be right back.

He slapped a wad of strangely wet papers into my hand and ran off. I haven't seen him since. Anyway things turned out okay. I met my girl in that line, pretty thing from Section 11. They said our love was forbidden but I'd like to see them say that to our daughter. She'll be 4 soon and one day our spots in line will be hers. Damn fine man, that Cram, doing this for our community.

It is just like Cramulus to let section 11 people breed with section 12 people.  It's this kind of depravity that makes otherwise rational people care about "The Grand Ole Opry". 

[altered]

No one's ever actually seen Cramulus in years. There's just a strange smell, and a misplaced mustache.

When we see the mustache is gone, we know he's arrived. We think we see his silhouette behind the glass, but it's frosted glass and he keeps his office dark. We all enter our buildings after he arrives and leave before the end of his shift, so we aren't actually ever sure what we're seeing there, but the mustache is gone and the stink of cheese and burning hair is wafting from the vents, so it must be Cramulus.

Ever since he was stripped of his title as Professor, things have been this way. Each section crawls out of the nest in the storefront they will spend their day serving. Strange, faceless figures come through and speak in buzzing, unnatural voices, they purchase goods from us, they leave.

Over it all, the office of Cramulus, where a strange figure wanders back and forth, wobbling as if drunk or standing motionless for hours, not even the slight disturbance of breathing, and sometimes a light shines on a section and their metrics deteriorate and half of them are torn by dogs in the night at random.

When the mustache disappears, we fear.

[hooplala]

No one's ever actually seen Cramulus in years. There's just a strange smell, and a misplaced mustache.

When we see the mustache is gone, we know he's arrived. We think we see his silhouette behind the glass, but it's frosted glass and he keeps his office dark. We all enter our buildings after he arrives and leave before the end of his shift, so we aren't actually ever sure what we're seeing there, but the mustache is gone and the stink of cheese and burning hair is wafting from the vents, so it must be Cramulus.

Ever since he was stripped of his title as Professor, things have been this way. Each section crawls out of the nest in the storefront they will spend their day serving. Strange, faceless figures come through and speak in buzzing, unnatural voices, they purchase goods from us, they leave.

Over it all, the office of Cramulus, where a strange figure wanders back and forth, wobbling as if drunk or standing motionless for hours, not even the slight disturbance of breathing, and sometimes a light shines on a section and their metrics deteriorate and half of them are torn by dogs in the night at random.

When the mustache disappears, we fear.

I've seen him. There are photos to PROVE it.

He showed me his pet project, he is slowly rebuilding the Five Points in lower Manhattan. HE STILL HAS THAT GODDAM MUSTACHE. And he WEARS IT IN PUBLIC. When he is finally finished with his little project he plans to rule the entire area, calling himself Daniel Day Lewis.

ALSO - you know why he joined that cult, right? TO TAKE IT THE FUCK OVER. Those poor schmucks never knew what hit them. Go jump over to YouTube and search for Gurdjieff Movements... it used to be a slightly odd but beautiful multi-layered synchronized dance.... now there is just one "movement" ... IT'S CALLED THE MADISON.

[Doktor Howl]

No one's ever actually seen Cramulus in years. There's just a strange smell, and a misplaced mustache.

When we see the mustache is gone, we know he's arrived. We think we see his silhouette behind the glass, but it's frosted glass and he keeps his office dark. We all enter our buildings after he arrives and leave before the end of his shift, so we aren't actually ever sure what we're seeing there, but the mustache is gone and the stink of cheese and burning hair is wafting from the vents, so it must be Cramulus.

Ever since he was stripped of his title as Professor, things have been this way. Each section crawls out of the nest in the storefront they will spend their day serving. Strange, faceless figures come through and speak in buzzing, unnatural voices, they purchase goods from us, they leave.

Over it all, the office of Cramulus, where a strange figure wanders back and forth, wobbling as if drunk or standing motionless for hours, not even the slight disturbance of breathing, and sometimes a light shines on a section and their metrics deteriorate and half of them are torn by dogs in the night at random.

When the mustache disappears, we fear.

I've seen him. There are photos to PROVE it.

He showed me his pet project, he is slowly rebuilding the Five Points in lower Manhattan. HE STILL HAS THAT GODDAM MUSTACHE. And he WEARS IT IN PUBLIC. When he is finally finished with his little project he plans to rule the entire area, calling himself Daniel Day Lewis.

ALSO - you know why he joined that cult, right? TO TAKE IT THE FUCK OVER. Those poor schmucks never knew what hit them. Go jump over to YouTube and search for Gurdjieff Movements... it used to be a slightly odd but beautiful multi-layered synchronized dance.... now there is just one "movement" ... IT'S CALLED THE MADISON.

I would have thought Cram would be more of a Charleston guy.

[hooplala]

No one's ever actually seen Cramulus in years. There's just a strange smell, and a misplaced mustache.

When we see the mustache is gone, we know he's arrived. We think we see his silhouette behind the glass, but it's frosted glass and he keeps his office dark. We all enter our buildings after he arrives and leave before the end of his shift, so we aren't actually ever sure what we're seeing there, but the mustache is gone and the stink of cheese and burning hair is wafting from the vents, so it must be Cramulus.

Ever since he was stripped of his title as Professor, things have been this way. Each section crawls out of the nest in the storefront they will spend their day serving. Strange, faceless figures come through and speak in buzzing, unnatural voices, they purchase goods from us, they leave.

Over it all, the office of Cramulus, where a strange figure wanders back and forth, wobbling as if drunk or standing motionless for hours, not even the slight disturbance of breathing, and sometimes a light shines on a section and their metrics deteriorate and half of them are torn by dogs in the night at random.

When the mustache disappears, we fear.

I've seen him. There are photos to PROVE it.

He showed me his pet project, he is slowly rebuilding the Five Points in lower Manhattan. HE STILL HAS THAT GODDAM MUSTACHE. And he WEARS IT IN PUBLIC. When he is finally finished with his little project he plans to rule the entire area, calling himself Daniel Day Lewis.

ALSO - you know why he joined that cult, right? TO TAKE IT THE FUCK OVER. Those poor schmucks never knew what hit them. Go jump over to YouTube and search for Gurdjieff Movements... it used to be a slightly odd but beautiful multi-layered synchronized dance.... now there is just one "movement" ... IT'S CALLED THE MADISON.

I would have thought Cram would be more of a Charleston guy.

I used to think a lot of things.

[Doktor Howl]

I just watched a video of both and he is definitely a Charleston guy.

[Cramulus]

I fucking love you guys

also

HAVE YOU ASKED YOUR DOCTOR?? The latest medical fashion is bullying. That's right, you can get a prescription to have some kid from the neighborhood say shitty things to you as you get in your car. He's wearing one of those weird little felt crowns that kids wore in the 1950s. He's got a stick, and he poked poop with that stick, and now he's writing your name in poop on the side of your car.

"Now this is pod racing" you say to yourself as he waves the stick under your nose, causing your eyes to tear up and your stomach to heave. There are immeasurable medical benefits to getting bullied by a small child. Your fur and tail will shine. But what's more, there are moral benefits, too. You start that kids life from the right position - one of total indignance and absurd hostility towards adults. As he grows up, he's going to explore those feelings, developing them into the psychological equivalent of methamphetamines. As a teenager, he'll pay for his college tuition by selling them from an alley. We'll freebase those feelings and get fuckin ripped up.

But aside from the physical side effects, being bullied will give you the humility that will make you an effective employee of Crambonian Enterprises, which is basically like Amazon for complete dipshits.

But how does this work, you ask? How does an 11 year old kid effectively bully a 37 year old grown-ass man? Doesn't bullying involve a power gradient? Can two people on equal standing bully each other? How is bullying different from normal everyday conflict?

The answer lies in that power gradient -- you have to give that child leverage over you. Give him your wallet. Name him as your emergency medical contact. This will equip him with a feeling of POWER which will benefit both you and him.

And this is what's REALLY happening.