Enemies of Reason Poundshop potshots at the media moral maze.

Apocalypse snow

So, we prepare for the new snow catastrophe. Literally millions of flakes of snow are invading the country with their floaty white evil, preparing to flutter down on unsuspecting hardworking taxpayers and disrupt their otherwise snow-free lives. And as ever, we're faced with a question: are we all going to die?

Probably not, is the answer, but that's beside the point. SNOW CHAOS! Aaargh! Snowfall! Eeee! Snowdrifts! Wooooo! People stockpiling stuff in supermarkets. Thousands of human beings dying! People slipping over on pavements because no-one can grit them because of the elf'n'safety Taliban! (Yes yes, I know, but shhh.) And we're all going to DIE!

And then, worse than that, readers'/viewers' picture of snow. Oh, snowy-white heavens above. "Mrs Archibald Thumbnuts of Pease Pottage has sent us in this lovely photograph of a robin nailed to a twig in her back garden, with some snow on the back of the greenhouse." Oh spare me, spare me the madness. "I made a snowman!" Good for you, I made a fucking chicken dinner the other night, but I didn't send a bloody picture to BBC Breakfast, did I? And do you know why not? Because no-one gives a shit. I don't give a shit! You don't give a shit! No-one gives a shit! Yes, there's some snow, whoopeedeedoodeedoo, piss off! It's some weather conditions! Yes, tobogganing down a hillside on a binliner and all that; but, pictures of snow? Oh, bugger off. Bugger off to somewhere warm, then don't come back. "Has it been drizzling where you are? Send in your drizzle pictures! We want to see a million photos all slightly, slightly different, of some drizzle!"

So here's the thing. The next time someone asks you to send them a picture of snow, send them this. And keep sending them that, a licky boom boom down, until they get the ruddy message.

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