Author’s Take on Holiday Classic

This entry originally appeared on NEHW member Stacey Longo’s blog.

Here Comes the Sun

by Stacey Longo

I’m not crazy about The Year Without a Santa Claus, and as you know, I despise Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, but the one holiday cartoon that I hate more than a root canal is Frosty The Snowman. Just hearing this self-centered, nihilistic boob’s voice gives me the dry heaves. Sometimes the wet heaves, too.

This cartoon starts off with a bunch of ably-challenged children being let out of school on Christmas Eve. I’m assuming they’re challenged, because one of them actually says “snow is good” when they’re let out of class, which is, of course, crazy. They decide to build a snowman, and one of these special kids wants to name their creation “Oatmeal,” which further proves my case that these kids are challenged. But I digress.

The magician who was hired to entertain these kids on the last day of school before winter break tosses out his hat, which lands on Frosty’s head, bringing him to life. The first thing he says is “Happy Birthday!” which would be nice if he was remembering what Christmas is actually celebrating. But no, the selfish sacrilegious snowball is talking about his own birthday, which he clearly feels is more important than, say, the birthday of the son of God. What a pompous egomaniac!

As soon as this numbskull is born, he immediately starts complaining that it is so hot he’s melting. Hey, stupid. Maybe you should have thought about that before coming to life in a temperate climate.

Frosty leads a parade through the center of town, scaring the bejeepers out of the townspeople. One poor policeman is so alarmed by the walking, talking snow abomination that he swallows his own traffic whistle, causing (I am sure) permanent damage to the man’s trachea. Frosty (I am sure) doesn’t care.

Frosty now reveals his true nature. Instead of buying a train ticket to the North Pole like a decent snowman, he kidnaps a little girl, Karen, and hops in to a refrigerated boxcar, which, might I remind you, is illegal. Of course, the little girl that is stuck freight-hopping with Frosty starts to suffer from hypothermia and frostbite. Good job, Frosty. He bullies some woodland creatures into making her a fire, but then the magician, who simply wants the hat Frosty stole from him back, blows out the fire. Apparently this scrawny magician has the lung capacity of the wolf from the Three Little Pigs, which I never would have guessed from looking at him.

The highlight of this nauseating cartoon is when Frosty and Karen find a greenhouse in the middle of the frozen tundra…as you do. Inside the greenhouse, Frosty melts to a puddle in what I like to think of as a slow, agonizing death. Then Santa comes along and, proving he is looooong overdue to retire, brings him back to life. Really, Santa, what are you thinking? Frosty just kidnapped a kid and tried to freeze her to death! Also, I was taught that only one being was ever able to die and then rise from the grave, but I believe we’ve already established that this cartoon was written by a bunch of atheists. And really, who needs Jesus when you’ve got a self-centered, parading snow terrorist to worship?

The only nice thing that I can say about this cartoon is that at least it ends before Frosty can insist that Christmas be renamed in his honor. I say, bring on the sun!

Editor’s note: Stacey Longo also has an entry about Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer on her blog.

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