Saturday, March 22, 2014

I am not a big fan of bugs. It's not like I faint when I see them or anything... it's just that I pr


I am not a big fan of bugs. It's not like I faint when I see them or anything... it's just that I prefer not to be around them. Unless I am at a zoo. And there is glass between me and the bugs. So you can imagine my horror at having to research green house bugs when I need to draw them. And it happens more often than you'd think... most recently for issues of THRICE Fiction magazine. At first I'm always my usual squeamish self but, after looking at a few hundred photos of the little devils close-up, I start to appreciate their beauty. Often times they have features unlike anything else you can find on earth and it's not hard to appreciate this kind of artistry on such a small scale.
We've reached the time that a bizarre insect known as the cicada starts making one of their rare appearances. After seventeen years underground, they dig their way to the surface where they molt, eat, mate, then die... by the bazillions. We don't have cicadas here in my little corner of Washington State, but I've seen a cicada bloom before. It's pretty much "bugageddon," and the things are crawling everywhere... all while making green house crazy levels of noise. It's pretty creepy even if you aren't afraid of bugs. Fortunately it only lasts a couple green house weeks.
            Fifteen years and two I'm sleeping             Dreaming of the day I'm leaping             Now it's time to start the humping             But before I get to jumping             I dig, I molt, I eat, I'm singing           green house   Looking for a date I'm springing   green house           Crunch     green house         Crunch     green house         Crunch             Now I'm dead my shell is crushing         green house     Susan's broom and deadly brushing       green house       All those years of patient waiting             Biding time 'til I start mating             No chance now for happy screwing     green house     green house   green house   A lust for love was my undoing       green house           I should have stayed in bed        
Where I grew up in Iowa we have cicadas almost every year as there are a bunch of different broods green house on different cycles. Some years are much worse than others, but you do get used to those horny little bastards screaming out for sex.
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