January 23, 2004
I love snow. There’s really nothing like it, and even though you could say that about a lot of things it doesn’t change the fact that there’s nothing quite like snow. I probably love snow because I live in the Southeastern United States where we usually get one really good snowfall a year–and by "good" I mean "what Alaskans would consider a light dusting". A good snowfall, for me, is more than an inch which is enough to paralyze the city for at least four hours while the salt truck operators get a locksmith to open the door to the garage where the salt trucks are kept because they can’t remember where they left the key.
Remember when you were a kid and sick of math class and snow would start falling? The first time that happened I was in first grade and the teacher said, "Let’s all just quietly watch the snow," not realizing that no one under the age of fourteen trapped in school can quietly watch salvation from math falling from the sky. We ended up building a bonfire of multiplication flash cards and broken desks, smeared our bodies with chocolate milk, and performed a ceremony so bizarre and terrifying that the class hamster, Dweezil, never went near his plastic wheel again. After that my teachers decided that the only way to prevent anarchy was to try and take all the fun out of snow by making it educational. Trying to make kids absorb information while it’s snowing is like trying to make a corporate executive turn down a raise. It’s like dangling a chicken in front of a crocodile and telling it not to eat it. It’s like…well there’s nothing quite like it.
I do remember one thing that the teacher told us: no two snowflakes are alike. But even as a child I was skeptical; I had a "scientific" or, as it’s more commonly known, "smart-aleck" perspective. How does anyone know no two snowflakes are alike? And have you ever noticed how small snowflakes are? It takes a lot of them to create havoc where I live–and even more to do the same in, say, Canada. Nobody’s examined every single snowflake, but even so I think it’s statistically more likely that a lot of snowflakes are exactly alike. So were all my teachers. They were exactly alike in their shared delusion that they could maintain order and discipline among a group of children who hadn’t seen snow in at least eleven months. And they were all flakes.
Enjoy this week’s offerings.
This is an authentic psychological test. It is a story about a girl. While at the funeral of her mother, she met a man whom she did not know. She thought he was amazing, her dream guy, and she fell in love with him but never asked for his number and could not find him after the funeral. A few days later the girl killed her sister.
Question: What was her motive in killing her sister?
Give this some thought before you scroll down.
She was hoping that the guy would appear at her sister’s funeral. If you answered this correctly, you think like a psychopath. This was a test a famous American psychologist used to test if one has the same mentality as a killer. Many arrested serial killers took this test and answered it correctly.
If you didn’t answer correctly – good for you.
If you got the answer correct, please let me know so I be extra nice to you from now on.