20 December 2012

My Ants

That’s ants. Not aunts ... but pronounced the same way by me and of which I had a few before they took the cemetery rest. Ants in my kitchen. Pharaoh ants throughout the entire building complex around me. Googling was a mistake because I didn’t want to know this city is infested with pharaoh ants and it doesn’t stop there by a long shot. North America is totally blighted with them unless I’ve succumbed to a hoax on tiny little feet.

Not precisely as pictured
Now back when I took the New Testament course in fourth year at St John’s, I’m pretty sure I passed it although I couldn’t give you a quote from the Book of Revelations to save my life. It only comes to mind for some cloudy, sinister images of pestilences to be visited upon us signalling imminence of The End. Speaking of Mayan calculations, did anyone get that right yet? Are they working on a new calendar? I’m telling you, the ants have their own agenda and they are marching.


Along with rats, cockroaches are a given in a big city. At least the sneaky buggers have the wily brains to stay out of sight in daylight. If not, a swiftly well-aimed boot can result in a deeply satisfying crunch. We’ve had them so long, can we really include them as harbingers of End Times?

By my own calculations, ants are the finale in a parade of plagues. Successive waves of  insect control freaks. 

There were the clothing moths. The ones that nested secretly, snugly, under carpets and in your prized sheepskin boots. Treatment: Months of moth balls and wafting camphor fumes as you slink about the outside world on your daily rounds. 

 Fruit flies that multiply like ... well, like fruit flies. Treatment: Months of creatively baiting the little suckers and renouncing bananas for the duration.
 
Bed bugs, driving helpless people to insanity. Treatment: Intense heat. Set fire to everything you own, optionally to yourself.


Now pharaoh ants. Treatment (experimental stages): Read the ingredients on the ant traps. Do not unwittingly supplement with careless bagel crumbs or smears of peanut butter. On the other hand, co-existence may be permanent so think cooperation: new pets? They’re not entirely mindless automatons, y’know. Get a dialogue going. Their leaders might be into sharing space. You will never be alone again. 

Apocalypse ... or attitude adjustment? Are the trumpets of doom blaring? Or sounding a brave strange new world? Whatever. They are coming to get you. Life as we know it is on its way out, folks.
      




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