I want to nuke the North Pole.

Yes, really. Don’t act surprised, I know you’ve thought about it, too. I mean, what else are we going to do with all of this stockpiled uranium and plutonium? We can’t just let it go and decay now, can we? And what about all of these centrifuges? I like cotton candy as much as the next guy, but something tells me they’re too unwieldy for a carnival. And these ICBMs? It would be a tragedy to waste them on lowly chemical or biological weapons. I for one will not settle for destruction-lite.

I want to nuke the North Pole.

You heard me right, and here’s why: I’m tired of all this doomsday talk about global warming. Carbon dioxide this, climate change, that. Enough with the useless foreboding—let’s get on with it, already! Honestly, how much longer d’you reckon we put up with scientists pontificating about what’s to come “in the coming decades,” or “for future generations.” The apprehension is unbearable! The anxiety is crippling! And, perhaps most importantly, the suspense is killing me! Some estimates say that the full range of effects may not manifest themselves for hundreds of years. I’ll be dead by then! And I’ll be damned if I miss out on the spectacle. No more of this gradual sea level rise nonsense; let’s melt the Arctic now, in one fell swoop! As the old adage goes, “Why put off ‘till tomorrow what you can annihilate today?”

I want to nuke the North Pole.

I didn’t stutter. And don’t start crying about Old Saint Nick. How I see it, expelling that corpulent bastard’s workshop from the face of the Earth is an added bonus. What kind of person uses slave labor to produce low-quality consumer goods for a bunch of spoiled brats while hundreds of millions of children starve? How about flying that tacky-ass sleigh to Africa and giving Ogechukwukama some damn food, never mind a new Hot Wheels® set. I mean, It’s clear the man likes to eat, so you’d think he’d have some sympathy, but no. And what a misogynist he is, keeping Mrs. Clause locked up in the house at all times, having her wait on him hand and foot, forcing her to cook him meal after gluttonous meal. And the poor elves, oh the poor elves. Ordered to work day in and day out for no pay, being constantly admonished, barely receiving enough sustenance to stave off exhaustion. It’s unconscionable. Santa is a capitalist pig, a patriarch, and the quintessential white-man. It is therefore with relish that I await his atomically induced demise. As for the missus and the elves… Well, at least they’ll be put out of their misery.

I want to nuke the North Pole.

And you should, too, if for no other reason than a change of scenery. Earth’s poor capo has been covered in ice—and not much else—for 2.7 million years. That’s a long f**king time! Don’t get me wrong, ice is important and all; how else would I chill my raspberry lemonade on a sultry afternoon? But millennia after millennia of nothing but frozen dihydrogen monoxide has left me jaded. I’m ready for something new, something different. Besides, a thermonuclear explosion could be just what the doctor ordered. At last, our dream of exploring the hitherto unnavigable polar sea could become a reality. Perhaps some new wildlife will flock to the area, bringing much-needed biodiversity. Heck, we could even go swimming!

_____

I know what you’re thinking, comrades, that this is an impossible feat. But I’m here to tell you you’re wrong. Did Hitler say that when he embarked on the Holocaust? No way! What about Bushy Jr., when he led an entire country to war under false pretenses? Not a chance. Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has. Someone said that, I forget who. The point is, come join me and help usher in a new era of lofty seas and Santa-less skies. For more information, go to Ice-the-Ice.org.

Global Warmly,

Austin

