On a chilly, yet refreshing morning here in Fairbanks, Alaska, I woke up and remembered an itsy bitsy spider for some odd reason. This remembrance brought on some interesting thoughts. But first, I must tell you of my clash with... the itsy.. bitsy.. spider..
One evening, I was minding my own business in the kitchen, rummaging about trying to find something to digest. Amidst my burrowing, I suddenly became thirsty. Water, I thought, I must have. I innocently reached out and grasped the cupboard knob and pulled open the door. My innocence was met with a violence to my eyes. There, above the assortment of mismatched and odd-sized cups, was it. The spider.
There it crouched upon its web of confusion. Although perfectly still, it seemed to move its surrounding air in a swirl of death. For some reason, rage began to boil my mind as my eyes met its beady little eyes. Avast, foul beast! I cried within my mind. I shall make sport of thy death, thou vile rogue which hast violated mine abode!
In a feverish frenzy, I retreated to amass my weapons which I would undoubtedly hurl at this grotesque intruder. My mind raced as I assessed the situation, choosing to arm myself with but one weapon---one of a horrible, destructive nature. I got my candle lighter.
Gripping this weapon of mass destruction in my hot palm, blood racing through my veins, I pulled up a chair so as to get close to the enemy. I wish I could say I smelled its fear, but I believe that was my own. Strategy was key. If I allowed the pea-sized brute to escape, it could regroup for a surprise attack. Failure was not an option.
My eyes locked onto it. There were no countermeasures this goliath could employ---nothing would deter my sight. According to my strategy that I had formulated when pulling up the chair to the cupboard, I would activate the lighter first before nearing it to the behemoth, and then... I did so, and with a swift move of my adrenaline-fueled arm, the monster was engulfed in relentless flame.
It took mere milliseconds for it to shrivel up into a crispy little knot as it fell from its web, which had all but disintegrated in the heat. My enemy was defeated...
This is encounter with the arachnid gave me some thoughts on that crisp morning. Just a little while ago, I was sitting there, eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, when suddenly, a feeling of insignificance, yet total self-awareness, befell me. I realized how...human...I was, and somehow insignificant, in a sense---but also my awareness of my own existence became very sudden and real. It was odd. And that is linked, I think, somehow, to my battle with the itsy bitsy spider.
This spider, sitting on its web in the cupboard, was minding its own business, unaware that it was on someone else's territory. I don't think it meant any ill will, but nevertheless, it was occupying a space with a human who, at times, does not realize how instinctive and anamilistic he can be at times. No doubt, it saw me see it, and how I scurried about in horror. Yet, it didn't move at all the whole time. It just watched. Whether out of stupidity or just being unaware, it met its impending doom with a sort of complacency. Spider's are generally more intelligent, being a more powerful type of hunter, than their counterpart bugs, but compared to the vast and essentially infinite intellectual capacity of a human, it is nothing. But something so insignificant as this nothing-spider caused this highly intellectual being (by comparison, anyway) to resort to the most simplistic of reactions: instinctive and animilistic.
The only thing I can say now is, Farewell, my fellow creature. I have yet to model your still resolve in the face of inevitable and unavoidable doom.