There are times when humanity's fascination with destruction simply boggles the mind. It snowed steadily all day yesterday, big fat fluffy flakes on a warm-ish day, the sort that simply begs to be played in. True to form, some of the students labored for a good five hours as I watched from my third-floor window to erect a snow sculpture on the green that was a true engineering masterpiece. It was simple, but graceful, a tall and slim hollowed-out pyramid that stood supported on its four narrow legs.
This afternoon I watched again as two other students came upon the pyramid. The temperature had dropped overnight, and so the snow was hard enough that their initial kicking and punching couldn't dent it. Undeterred, instead of giving up and moving on to more productive pursuits, they actually scouted the entire surrounding area until they found a broken tree branch to aid in attacking the sculpture. Finally they managed to chip enough snow away that one could climb to the top, where he began jumping up and down until the peak caved in. The rest was cold-bloodedly, methodically thorough. When they were done only a pile of broken chunks of snow marked what had been an aesthetic and creative piece of structural imagination.
It was the sheer pointlessness of it that struck me.