Mile
Zero

A Talk with the Neighborhood Abominable Snowman
By Tenna Vasquez

EXCLUSIVE TO THE NATIONAL WEEKLY WORLD INQUIRER NEWS!! MUST CREDIT NWWIN!!

"It's hard, you know? I won't lie to you now. It's hard." The yeti leans back in his chair, a stylish Swedish contraption made of balsa wood and green canvas. I expected to be in a forest for this interview, but instead my directions brought me to a condo in Greenbelt, Maryland. The yeti met me at the door and gave me a Coke, which I sip in his lounge-themed living room.

"I mean," he continues, "being a mythical creatures isn't what it used to be. But you've got to change with the times, man. Just keep on truckin', you know?" And with those words, the Yeti unloads his furry soul to me.

CON MEN

"For example, everyone's always tryin' to make money off you. All kinds of people. They sell fake yeti fur, yeti toenails. Maybe they really believe it, but in the end they're still taking advantage of others." The snowman sighs and reaches across his desk. "It's not just me, right? Check this out." He hands me a plastic card with scribbles all over it. "It's supposed to be some kind of astral protection, but this guy Skeptico says it's just a waste of time. People are paying good money for that. I'm in the wrong business."

It's as bad as homeopathy, the yeti insists. "Do you know how much I've paid for homeopathic fur softeners?" he complains. "And then I find out from my friend Jim at Some Are Boojums that they might hurt animals. Heck, I might have been better off doing nothing at all! It's killing my self esteem." I try to look comforting, but he's off on a new target before I can get a word in. "I've tried it all, you know? And it took Pharyngula's PZ Myers to clue me in, but I finally realized that alternative medicine, even from a university, isn't going to help anyone."

I try to change the subject before he gets really excited.

BACK TO SCIENCE

The yeti isn't upset by people who claim he doesn't exist, which surprises me. I was worried that he wouldn't react well when I brought it up, but he's really very sympathetic. "I can't blame them," he says. "There's no evidence for me at all, really--and there's not going to be." I remember his insistence that a photographer would not be allowed. So he's a pro-science bigfoot?

"Oh, absolutely. Look at the history of us mythical creatures. A pack of hoaxes and lies, you know? And now they're trying to tar science with the same kind of crap. Look at this post from Matt at Pooflinger's Anonymous, about textbooks that try to discredit evolution. That stuff really burns me up. I'm thinking about running for the local school board."

But isn't he flattered by the attention of the hoaxers?

"No way, those people are nuts. Bunch of tin-foil wearing conspiracy-theorists. And that's not even going to help them. I saw the other day a note from Phil at Bad Astronomy where MIT studied foil headwear and couldn't find any benefit. It's a bad scene. I don't want to be associated with that kind of thing."

He's getting worked up again. Before I can stop him, he's rummaging through another stack of papers to add to my growing collection of handouts. "Here," he says, thrusting another hairy hand toward me with a printout. "This is what I'm talking about. You've got to be skeptical, but you also have to be scientific, you know what I mean?" I nod, but I have no idea, so to cover I look down at the paper. It's a post from Orac, covering Dean Esmay's HIV denialism, and it is very detailed. The snowman is grinning at me--respectfully, but insolently.

LOSING HIS RELIGION

So what does a yeti believe about the world beyond? The answer is vague. "It's not really specific," the yeti muses. "Am I in an organized religion? No, not really. On the other hand, I've got friends who are writing their own creation myths, like Mark at Be Lambic or Green and his egocentric intelligent design. Whatever works for them, right?"

But the yeti does get specific about what he doesn't believe. He's not a believer in Reiki, for example. "Check out what EoR wrote at The Second Sight about it: it's more of secret cult. I've got no time for that kind of thing. What's next, Scientology?"

He's also dismissive of supersititions. "It'd be one thing if you could produce results with it. But it's really being laid out that there's no accuracy derived from mysticism. People are keeping diaries, something I've always wanted to do. Look at Jim from Decorabilia: he's chronicling his dreams to compare them to reality--I don't want to live in his dreams! Or Rockstar Ryan's Rockstar Ramblings about his horoscopes: it's great snark, but also great skepticism about the techniques of fortune-telling."

"In the end, I guess you could say I'm non-denominationally spiritual," says the yeti. "But then I think--man, I don't even know what that means, dig? I'll say this," and he leans in closer to me, "the atheism argument is pretty convincing some days. I've read Darksyde's What It Feels Like To Be an Atheist at Unscrewing the Inscrutable, and I just about give up on religion. ...or become a Santist, really." He peeks down at my notes. "That's 'Santist,'" he says. "Not 'Satanist.' Make sure you get that right."

MO BETTA' META

Our time's just about up, and I stand to take my leave. The not-so-abominable snowman seems uncomfortable with goodbye, and continues to thrust skeptical writing at me. "You want some more classical stuff?" he asks, and hands over some skeptical philosophy from Steve at Socratic Gadfly. "Or maybe you want to talk about fighting a backlash against the Enlightenment, like this piece from Skeptic Rant's LBBP?" I assure the yeti that I'm sure it's very nice, but I have a deadline to meet and a long Metro trip ahead of me.

Looking back on it, all I've got from my interview with the yeti is just pages of notes. I forgot to even get a fur sample. But while his existence may be in doubt, the lessons of critical thought he taught me are something I can take to the bank.

(signed) Tenna Vasquez, for the The National Weekly World Inquirer News