Whither the snowflakes? Inquiring minds want to know. Curious people all over the country are wondering what will occur when the snowflakes — aka, the crybullies — are finally forced out of their safe spaces on campus, and into the cold winds of life. Three nasty shocks seem in store for these little darlings: When they find out — the horror — that there are no “safe spaces”; when they find out that others are allowed to speak sometimes; and when they discover their degrees in race/gender studies may not be the asset they thought.

While student hysterics are nothing too novel, what is new is this sense of excessive fragility in which they demand as a right a complete insulation from all things unpleasant — a loud noise, a cold look, a harsh word. Someone you don’t like comes to visit your campus? Go to a safe room, and hug a stuffed animal. A line in a poem triggers a “flashback?” Ask for a warning, and cry. “I don’t want to debate, I want to talk about my pain,” a student wrote in the Yale Herald. He may want to talk, but few want to listen. And what a shock to his system when he finds this out.