The Closet Professor

Jack Frost must have rebranded himself as Jack Freeze. From Texas to Maine, much of the country is bracing for severe winter weather. Friends in Alabama are expecting over an inch of ice—never a good sign, since power lines tend to come down at just a quarter inch.

Here in Vermont, the temperature is dropping steadily all day. By the time I leave work, wind chills will already be in the negatives. Tomorrow, we’re looking at subzero temperatures all day, with wind chills plunging to somewhere between –25 and –45 degrees. By Sunday and Monday, forecasts are calling for 8–12 inches of snow, with southern Vermont likely seeing more than a foot.

Once I get home this evening, I have no intention of leaving my apartment.

Simply put, it feels like hell is freezing over—that is, the United States under Donald Trump.

Here’s a piece of medieval trivia for you: hell wasn’t always imagined as blazing hot. While the Bible gives us fire and brimstone, some medieval writers pictured the devil trapped in extreme cold—the furthest possible point from God’s light and warmth. In that tradition, hell freezing over isn’t a contradiction at all. It’s the final, most absolute form of separation.

Which feels… depressingly on theme right now.