Ode to Heinz.

Here's an analogy for you. This one's refined -- subject to scrutiny for years, but it has proven its correctness time and time again. There really is no other way to explain it.

Today... we are going to talk about Cramps.

Cramps. are like ketchup bottles. Bear with me. Imagine... a ketchup bottle. This... sad, populous, abused icon of our society. Let's imagine for a moment, that there is not much ketchup left in the bottle. It is mostly filled with what? Air. Gas. But alas... there is in fact that little bit of ketchup left in the very bottom of the bottle. That little, tiny bit -- a teaspoon or less! -- that no second generation could ever forego (being raised, of course, by their first generation parents). Waste not!! That final, last bit of ketchup, like other things, should not be thrown away if it can be salvaged. Times are tough, I hear.

So, what happens? You turn the ketchup bottle upside-down. All polarity is reversed. (I stress this sentence enough to repeat it). Polarity. is reversed. Then what? You begin to shake the bottle. Up and down and up and down. Violent thrusting motions down toward the center of the Earth's gravity. And then... you begin to squeeze.... You squeeze said unsuspecting ketchup bottle... so close to the end of its battered life, forcing the air inside to contort and fill places that should not have air in them!! Squeezing, harder and harder! and still speeding downwards... I don't know about you, but I have a headache already.
........Oh, shit. ...Here comes the knife.

Knife? What kni-- AAAOOOOOOooooohhhh!!! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!

Yeah, so you've got this knife. Usually it's a butter knife -- sharp enough to get the job done, though still blunt enough to hurt -- but sometimes... it's a steak knife. And you've got this knife sticking all up in you STICK STICK STICK! then scraaaaping the inside walls of the ketchup bottle.
Shaking. Squeezing. Stabbing. A vicious torture. Over and over and over again. Just as the ketchup bottle comes to expect it, so do we. And try as we might, to ease the strange suffering... when it all comes right down to it, there's really nothing we can do about it.
This is my Ode to Heinz. Know it. Recognize it. And remember to honor it. Maybe you can never understand, but you can at least let that one last teaspoon of ketchup go.

Spare the bottle.