The jungle is fierce and inevitable. Trees grow around or on power lines. Tree roots breach the concrete seas like wooden still-life dolphins. Occasionally the concrete swells like a tumor, a sedate yet imminent promise of rubble to come. Weeds and grasses prodigiously grow between sidewalk tiles. Metal roofs slowly drip rust trails down building exteriors. Large holes in the paint often reveal underlying mold, moss, or rot. The occasional fern courageously plants itself into a crack in a wall and grows sideways. The rapidity and inevitability of constant decay lends itself to a certain amount of “Que sera sera” in regards to building maintenance.
Thus it is that the jungle enters our buildings also. Our ceiling and moulding feed termites and wood burrowing beetles. Rats scurry or fight on our ceiling tiles. Cockroaches and drain flies exit out of our floor drain. Lizards crawl out of various corners to eat said insects (except cockroaches; too large). New termites and the occasional centipede crawl in under the front door, drawn in by the bright light shining through the threshold. Mosquitos brazenly invite themselves in whenever the door opens.
We never see our cohabitants during the day, but their marks greet us every morning. Plucked or discarded wings form trails on the floor. Lizard pellets sit on our shelving. Little piles of sawdust dot our otherwise pristine floor. The floor around the nyamuk-killer (blacklight with an electrified cage) is littered with small corpses [see: I’m THAT Foreigner (Part II)].
Dana has always been an early sleeper. One of the benefits of this is that she misses all the sordid theater in our house that happens after dark. She would rather not watch the sausage being made. I think knowing how the sausage is made makes it more palatable. Luckily, I am a night owl.
Thrill or Thrall?
I came around a curious scene one night around 1am. All the lights in house were off save the blacklight. Approaching the blacklight were several waves of 5-6 winged insects. Yet each wave crawled towards the light without deviating left or right. The straightness of their path was unnerving, reminiscent either of myopic religious fervor or zombies (or myopically religious zombies). I have no idea where they came from but their destination was certain. My blacklight had become the equivalent of purple divine visitation.
The bugs were gathering in a loose semicircle around my blacklight. I was reminded of pagan religious gatherings depicted in comics and books. Or perhaps a secret sect with its furtive handshakes and low whispers of divine knowledge. Every follower had come to behold their purple god in holy rapture.
The lead insect reached the base of the light and performed a short hop towards it. It could not or did not fly. Rather, it jumped straight into the tray of the blacklight meant to hold corpses till the tray is cleaned out. It leapt towards the light… and was then promptly eaten.
Welcome to the Jungle
Inside the tray was a lizard, smart enough to figure out that it would never starve if it sat under the light. Thus it was that I watched wave after wave of winged insects jump into the tray, worshippers approaching their purple god only to be swallowed as prey. Some naturally slipped by the lizard since it could only eat one at a time. Those worshippers approached the purple god and were electrocuted for their fervor.
I sat amused by the 15 minutes of pseudo-religious drama. It seemed beholding divinity had blinded them to the predator laying in wait at the bottom. Was it better to be eaten so they never knew the truth of their purple god? Or was it better to die learning that the object of their devotion was a lie? I suppose I could simply have turned off the light, thus denying the insects their object of worship yet also giving them a chance to live. Then again, I have zero pity for insects.
I was reminded of The Guns n’ Roses song “Welcome to the Jungle”, a song about Hollywood. Underneath the lights, glamour, and glitz was a world of predators, prey, and death. When entering the world of Hollywood you either became like a predator or you died. The insects likewise entered the light believing one thing about it only to find quite a different thing underneath.
Hollywood Internet stardom Popularity The rat race The corporate ladder The lizard was merciless, methodical, and ravenous. Nothing was left of the scene the next morning other than a long trail of wings leading to the corner the lizards apparently use to enter and exit. Welcome to the jungle; may your sausage be ever tasty.