Crank Epiphany

Date: Thu, 12 Jan 1995

("Cranky" was a mailing list -- doo dah, doo dah -- which recently atrophied and was murdered. I was thus inspired.)

From: Kafka Dreams
To: void
Subject: Crank Epiphany


Or "a theory on why cranky failed" (even when compensating for the
lameness factor):

Cuz other cranks don't count as an audience and they won't give you
sympathy and they're generally so wrapped up in their own crankiness
that you can't wreck their day with yours. If anything, they'll just
make ya gloomier. Some folks don't even notice each other, just keep
screaming stridently at the tops of their lungs, deafly ignoring each
other, until the whole thing sounds like a buncha pissed off chickens
squawking and scratching and ignoring each other.

And basically, that sucks.

(I think this works for misanthropes, psychopaths and rock stars as
well...)

Anyway -- BEFORE YOUR FRAGILE BRAINS BEGIN TO FLAME -- since I made
the rule, I'm naming the exception: experts.

Yes, experts. As in the elite of alt.peeves and talk.bizarre.
Individuals so talented at their crankiness, their annoyance, their
flaming that they rise above the pettiness and achieve a higher
level... nay, a higher plane of existence. A kind of grumpy nirvana.

_They_ can make an audience out of other cranks. _They_ can inspire
psychopaths to massage the Expert's misanthropy. _They_ can gather an
audience comprised entirely of fools who will both know and not know
that they are the targets and shred them. And _They_ can make them
enjoy the experience.

THEY ARE ARTISTS!

And I say unto you... so should you be too. Strive to refine your
grumpiness. Hone it to a fine point of classy annoyance. Rise above
the chaff, you goobers.

And remember the grumpy creed: "No. Fuck YOU."

Kelly J. Cooper, copyright 1994, all rights reserved.

Back up to FLAMAGE