In my travels so far within this life time (about five, to be precise – and they were all boring) I’ve most often been met with places that regularly produced something horrible that is commonly referred to as snow. If you’ve never experienced it outside of pictures, you’re on the right track. You’ll see it looking all sheen and smooth over a hilltop in propagandist postcards and magazines that those who are more liberal with their vocabularies might describe as sexy, or paramedic. But you’ll only see it like that in real life twice, if you’re lucky. In reality, it’s disgusting. It’s all mixed with mud and animal piss and my piss and it creates ice, which, I don’t know if you are aware, but ice is trying to kill you. Ice lays itself over asphalt in such a way that you don’t even know it’s there, and then you slip, cracking your head open to add even more fluids into the mess. It also hangs from roof-edges in the form of assassin’s blades and methodically times itself to fall and pierce into your body.
In fact, pretty much everything that winter has to offer increases your chance of death by the scientifically measured and named amount of Too Friggin Much.
I once lived in a place where it got so cold that if I stepped outside and I felt the snot in my nostrils instantaneously freeze I knew that my car wasn’t going to start.
And even with this information readily available on all major and local news outlets and Wikipedia, as well as first-hand experience from Northern America, Canada, Antarctica, Alaska, other places that I don’t know about because geography is for pussies, people still willingly live where it snows. And I don’t get it.
The only people in their right minds that inhabit such climates are Snowmen, and they don’t have a choice. But, through further thought on the lives of Snowmen, I start to feel that I need to digress, and their habits need to be studied. When it is taken into consideration that humans created them, and then we peruse the many references to them and their nature within our culture, such as with Christmas songs and Children’s stories, I find myself surprised that we seem to know so little about them. Which brings us to the self-destructive tendencies of Snowmankind. You may be wondering what that means, and simply put: It is a contemplation of things that do not make sense.
For instance, Snowpeople often find themselves donning hats and scarves – a controversial action considering that a snowman should like to be as cold as possible.
Another example is the misconception that snowmen ever have such a thing as a “button nose.” I don’t think I’ve seen a single snowman out on the lawn with a button for a nose. A carrot, perhaps, but never a button – and it makes sense: imagine how troublesome it must be to find a button large enough to even be distinguishable as a nose. Impossible, or near it, I would say.
A third, and most important point is that of their exceptionally hazardous habit of smoking pipe tobacco. It can be dangerous enough for humans, but at least the heat and smoke can’t literally melt a human from the inside out starting with the throat. I would also say something about the nicotine discoloring as well, but, as I feel I’ve expressed with enough clarification, snowmen are usually pretty dirty to begin with.
Snowmen, like the Amish, prefer to keep to their own when possible, and so speaking with them on such things, or things at all, is quite nearly as likely as finding a button large enough to be distinguished as a nose. I did, however, come upon one exceptionally talkative snowman one day, who, upon my inquiries into such matters, simply huffed and said, “Propaganda.”
After long turnings-over of these thoughts, I conclude that snowmankind is just as reckless and short-termed in thought and motive as our own kind: Our own kind, who wear too many layers on a hot day, and wear far too little on a cold one, all in the name of fashion; Our own kind, who for some reason equate noses with buttons; Our own kind, who partake in various tobaccos regardless of the risks involved.
Suddenly the self-destructive tendencies of Snowmankind seem far less indiscernible, as we find them made in our very own image.