Within every snow globe house resides a teeny little Christmas family whose entire experience of the world is a perpetual Rockwellian holiday. From their perspective, the Universe is an unending wholesome family moment, save for the occasional massive earthquake immediately followed by a curiously abrupt blizzard.

The globe people’s whole notion of reality is their comfy little gingerbread house and the swirling colors in the blurred expanse beyond it. They never question their existence, they just continue singing carols, roasting chestnuts, and bracing for the next bout of God’s unsustained Christmas fury.

But on this particular day—completely beyond their ability to comprehend—their entire world looks like it is being sat on by a pair of cherubic buttocks. Makes you think. What do you think is happening beyond our species’ horizons? #TheMatrix