10 Ways You Know For Sure That This Is Definitely Not A Cult

I would like to address a few of the concerns I’m hearing from you all. And, well, Amberushka’s family, implying that this group of ours is a cult. Which it’s definitely is not. It’s a club. But I’m happy to go point by point here just to make sure we’re all on the same page. We’ve got all the time in the world, so, about 2 months, 13 days, and 21 hours. Your Velcro, please.

1.     The special vocabulary: I realize that the last clubhouse, as some of you have pointed out, was “The Barn,” but since our current clubhouse is also a barn, it makes perfect sense to call this one “The Barn,” too, and no, I don’t think that’s confusing at all. Attention, once again, is “Velcro.”  (I do see some irony in your forgetting that one.) Walking is “blipping.” Poison is “Jeffrey.” “Dastardly” is not a word we made up, just to be clear here; I see one of you put that on the list. “Dastard” we did make up, and that just means someone who is behaving dastardly, i.e., wickedly. Instead of saying “to die,” we now say “to woodle.” Now “to die” is the verb for what happens when we leave the club. Ha! A little in-group humor there. Anyway, some of you just needed a brush-up, but some of you seem to have some problems with the very existence of the special vocabulary. Well, I can tell you this: diction does not a cult make. A lot of fields, like math, have special vocabularies that are TOTALLY MADE UP, and no one gets worked up about words like “integers.”

2.     Contact with families: I don’t know what to say here, guys. I have never tried to bias you against your Mamabads and Papabads, though it is true that communication with them is made more slightly difficult by our current off-off-grid situation.  Honestly, I feel that you’re using our club as the excuse you always wanted to take a breather from your relatives, which is what I explained when Amberushka’s family spearheaded that EXTREMELY unnecessary raid last week at The Barn–the former barn. I also feel that if you were more forthright about our belief system, everyone would not get so panicky.

3.     The belief system: Is simple. Again, each of us is attached to a giant doughboy, not unlike the Pillsbury Doughboy, but bigger and more invisible. The doughboy is like a soul, but outside of us. Each of us is, essentially, a backpack that the doughboy is wearing on his front; our backs are pressed against his belly. Our doughboys are much more powerful than we are, so influencing them is hard… but possible. Amberova, I know this is your handwriting, and I think your comment here is obtuse, and, if I may say so, a little snarky. If you think about it, it’s not odd at all, that, given our relative proportions to the doughboy, the doughboy’s feet would be well below the earth’s surface. The doughboy is a semiphysical entity. The doughboy’s feet could be anywhere, and that would be okay with the doughboy.

4.     The movement rules: Again, when we ignore our doughboys, they’re liable to throw tantrums. Conversely, our continuous, calm Velcro serves to placate them and bring out their best qualities. So, we blip along with our legs spread wide and our arms far from our bodies, just like our doughboys do, to show that we are aware of their presence, and we inhabit only the spaces in which they can fit comfortably, which is why we are in another barn and seated so far apart from each other, and why, in general, we always stand facing each other and turn away very slowly and carefully: we’re trying not to whack anyone with our doughboys. Kings and queens know about doughboys, and that’s why they put their thrones in big rooms and make people back away from them without turning around.

5.     Not being allowed to watch TV: This has absolutely nothing to do with me not wanting you to find out where I supposedly got the doughboy idea from, an allegation that is pure nonsense, by the way. I’ve never watched a movie in my life, and, if you don’t believe me, then, Houston, we have a problem. You know, I really regret telling you that the term “Jeffrey” grew out of a negative experience with a certain person from my past; now you think everything is derivative instead of arrived at through pure, consistent Velcro to the semiphysical realm. The reason you don’t want to watch movies is that artificial light is absolute Jeffrey to your doughboy.

6.     Food/Punishments: We are conflating two different things here. Our meals are not a punishment; roughage has a pacifying effect. And, okay, again, the crawlspace under floorboards of The Barn is not a punishment for YOU, it is meant to crowd your doughboy, who made you do the bad thing, like take more than your portion of pickleweed and turnips.

7.     My “Messiah Complex”: Ha! That’s a good one. I don’t make anyone call me “Messiah,” do I? Or call you underlings or peons? No! Rather, you call me by my name, and you all have diminutive, only-somewhat-culturally-appropriative versions of that name. It’s true that I’m the only one who can see the doughboys consistently right now, but isn’t that why we’re here? And aren’t we making progress? Amberina and Amberito said they saw them for a few seconds just the other day, and Amberesca can feel her doughboy’s stomach growling if she closes her eyes. 

8.     The need for a forum for complaints: That this is not a cult is, I think, proven by the fact that I am taking entire minutes of earth’s fast-waning existence to address the complaints in the complaint box that Amberoochie put out without asking. Amberoochie, please go into the crawlspace now.

9.     The alleged group suicide plan in anticipation of the world’s end: We do not have this. Not that there aren’t some days I’ve had it up to here with you guys. Just kidding! Also, while I’m thinking of it, you won’t want to go up into the hayloft right now; there is a rat problem up there for which we have had to order some plastic cups and Jeffrey.

10.  Okay, whoever wrote this one can blip right out those barn doors anytime you want, just as soon as I unlock them.  What I really don’t like is how you are wrapping us all up in the problem you have with yourself: none of the rest of us think “we look like goddamn misfits.” I do not think Amberenka who has been stapling your rompers together out of wool remnants and cutting your hair around her special bowl would like your implication at all.

Those are the biggies. You can get up. Before you go foraging, stretch a little. Any way you want. Just don’t get too close. Doesn’t it feel good to get your doughboys moving? Don’t we have fun together? That’s what clubs are for.

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