Saturday, June 03, 2006
A few evenings ago I sprayed Aphid Vegas with the wormwood, garlic and chili insecticide I'd received from a friend, but being at work during the daylight since, had to wait till this morning to observe the devastating effect on the sybaritic orgy; I got quite a surprise.
As I bent over to look closely, I beheld not Aphid Armageddon but the Aphid Riviera, crowded with plump and prosperous aphids strolling the leafy avenues or lolling in thongs and shades on the sunny green beaches of my broadbean plants, reading Da Aphid Code as their fat ant overlords moved among them, hustling production for their next blockbuster. It was aphid decadence, and as beanlord I am at a loss. All my natural insecticide has done is get the ants stretch limos and the aphids designer beachwear and bestsellers.
Its not that I want zero aphids, or even aphid ghettos, we all have to make a decent living and support a family. What I would like to do is maybe start an aphid revolution, in which the green underlings overthrow the despotic ants and start a small but prosperous community of their own, with their own leaders - ethnic roots are important - so that they can find their own place to live, other than in broadbean tyranny. But as in the human world, the plump do not revolt.
I know the ants defend the whole racket as a trade off, but it's just the old protection racket writ small; that's how Mussolini got his start, to say nothing of the mafia... As for the ants, they can get jobs anywhere. Anybody have some aphid propaganda on tape, some tiny loudspeakers? Or maybe I could airdrop some nanoleaflets and nanoarmaments, foment an aphid resistance, headquartered in a mountain stronghold of noxious weeds across the road.
But all that takes time. First I want my beans.
Posted by Robert Brady on Saturday, June 03, 2006