This tome was found in a room in the But shortly after the cultists left it.

Hello again, legion of Bwog. It is once again safe for me to cease radio silence and let you in on the truth behind the lies. Blue Cheetah here with another hair-rising, tail-twitching, haunch-trembling discovery. My recent intel about Pupin Plaza may have been shocking, but get ready for a true revelation. This time I dive into your deepest, darkest fear: The But.

That’s right, some of Columbia’s darkest secrets are lurking in your precious haven of broken dreams, Butler Library. There are questions that the Administration doesn’t want you to ask, but I won’t take no for an answer. The whole operation is layer on layer of devious dealings like a huge, stinky onion. Speaking of stenches, one question shrouded in mystery is: why does the fourth floor smell so awful? Also, what is the eighth floor, and how does it fit in a building that visually appears to have roughly 6.5 floors ? Can one “check out” a book from Butler, and if so, how is this done?

But the most important, question I have sought in vain to answer is…WTF is up with the air-conditioning in the entrance to the library?

Several worthy theories have been suggested by my partners in truth, such as the possibility that Butler is a portal of divine judgment, similar to purgatory, in which your ability to enter the very building itself is a test of your strength, morals, and character. There is speculation that Butler’s wind tunnel technology is part of a government program to create the all-caps of air-conditioning.

I’m here to tell you that all of these theories are wrong, wrong, WRONG! I have finally discovered the truth behind the lies, the facts the Administration doesn’t want you to know. The reason will become obvious when you hear what’s been going on in the bowels of the But.

I have long been aware that a small group of dedicated, loyal, intelligent, and eccentric individuals meet in the bottom of the But on Tuesdays and Thursdays. No, I know what you’re thinking, but this is not an Econ study group. It is a cult. Or rather, it is a much more sinister kind of cult. For weeks I have stalked with the stealth of a cheetah to find out what they are up to, and now I am finally ready to pounce.

You may ask, “Why do I care about a group of Satan Worshippers who meet in my precious But? I’m sure some of the students here study weirder things.” (Seriously, come on “Applied Mathematics,” what are you really up to?) While that may be true, these particular weirdos are up to something malevolent, more dire than numerical analysis. Simply put, these cultists are brainwashing us.

How? What? Why? WHEN? WHERE? IN MY BUT?!?! Yes, they infect you as soon as you “enter the But.” That huge gush of wind in the library is not some air conditioning unit gone rogue. It is actually a mind-control gas. When the time comes, the Satanists will control each and every lost soul who entered the library to get some work done.  Don’t believe me? Why do you think everyone in Butler looks so blank and emotionless? BECAUSE THEIR SOULS WERE STOLEN.

This begs the questions: who are these people, and why are they doing this? As the curious cat I am, I pawed deeper. Apparently they ar

*Editor’s Note: This is the end of Blue Cheetah’s submission. Bwog can only speculate as to what happened to this champion of Columbia. We are desperately awaiting his/her return. If you have any information about Blue Cheetah, or what this cult is, please forward it to tips@bwog.com.

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