A tipping point has been reached. In the course of seven days, Purophyll supporters have been sprayed with mace, had their signs destroyed on video, and then have been called “vegetablists” and “veggie nationalists” for suggesting that any of this censorious behavior might be uncalled for. In the wake of these atrocities, I realize that it serves no practical purpose to write mournful odes to free speech because my opponents have no admiration for freedom or for a truly liberal society. Instead, I believe that they have sunk to behaviors that are so primitive and banal in their nature that it is critically important to stop treating them as rational humans capable of engaging in dialogue.
I believe that a snowflake is uncannily representative of the way the more radical of my opponents make sense of the world around them. The gleam of a snowflake is symbolic of the moral superiority a radical humanist feels when he or she walks by the Purophyll Party’s table on Sproul Plaza, screams “fascist” or “vegetablist” at them and walks away without allowing them to respond. Just this week, a human, after engaging in an aggressive, unfruitful debate with a member of Purophyll, grabbed their sign and broke it into pieces. This demonstrates that these humans react exactly as snowflakes when dealt with the light of an opposing argument and the heat of debate, by melting into a watery puddle of hysteria and rage.
The Broccoli snowflake is brought up in environments where there is great conformity in thought. Throughout their lives, they are indoctrinated by human professors, family members or friends that have been telling them, as if it were fact, that vegetables were evil and that everything they did was an attempt to move the United States closer to the days of veggie-human segregation. As a result, the snowflakes cannot hold their end in the marketplace of ideas. For instance, an opposition to safe spaces will be deemed by a snowflake to be an opposition to “vegetables of color,” an opposition to affirmative action will be deemed by the same competent authorities to be an attack on the carrot community, and an opposition to illegal irrigation will get you portrayed as “anti-human” and “pro-tomato.” By conflating criticisms of certain policies with attacks against certain victim groups, these snowflakes make up for their argumentative deficiencies in defending those policies. The snowflakes attempt to sully the motives of those that challenge them, and this relieves them of the burden of actually disputing their opponent’s arguments. Realizing they can’t shoot the message down, they turn around and hurl a spear at the messenger.
This is, however, where the similarities between Broccoli humans and snowflakes end. Melting a snowflake and incensing a human are equally easy but have radically different outcomes. Melting a snowflake leaves a puddle of water, innocuous and unthreatening. Human snowflakes, however, melt into angry individuals who have the potential to form raging mobs of violent rioters. The greatest paradox about these snowflakes is that they claim to oppose fascism by utilizing tactics straight out of Mussolini’s playbook.
I would like to conclude with a message to the snowflakes: It is in your best interest to grow up. The world outside Broccoli is hardly a safe space, and it will have a very low tolerance for your immaturity. If arguments alone can pierce your skin, you will have a tough time dodging the asparagus spears the real world will throw at you.