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At my daughter's bedtime we're reading a book from the school library about having insects as pets. It gives you a lot of background on each particular species and then instructions on how to look after them. Phoebe has shown no interest in actually having an insect as a pet, thank God. They sound like a lot of work, just to source the right kind of leaves for the hungry little fuckers to eat and I know it'd be me left doing all the work. I don't want a stick insect in the house. A conservatory full of butterflies would be nice, but I don't have the funds or space to build a conservatory. And I've just seen what my energy bills are going up to in April (and I'd got used to not having to pay those bills, so thanks a lot Ian Bulb).
I am learning lots of stuff about butterflies and caterpillars at the moment - I discussed it a bit with Joz Norris in last week's podcast recording and he told me that caterpillars basically melt in the chrysalis but the butterfly retains their memories. We didn't get to the bottom of how anyone knows that. I have learned a more alarming fact about some butterflies this week though, that some of them are unable to eat anything and so just live a couple of weeks and then, presumably, starve to death. I like the fact that keeps the feeding bills down (though the caterpillars chomp through stuff like very hungry, well, caterpillars), but that's pretty brutal isn't it? The caterpillars live a life of eating, get put into a chrysalis and then melt and then become a beautiful butterfly, who has no mouth, so flies around for a bit, until there's no more fuel. And bang. That's it. I presume they just have time to fuck and lay some eggs and then it's game over.
What kind of God would do this? Let the butterflies live a bit longer - let them enjoy some honeysuckle. They have a pretty good chance of being eaten by a bird or have their wings pulled off by a child in the first couple of days I suppose, but it'd still be nice to see some butterflies live long enough to collect their pension.
Just so brutal to not let them give themselves a chance of survival.
Nature is red in tooth and claw and also psychotically cruel in construction. You'd better not exist God or I am going to be having some pretty strong words with you when I get to meet you. And don't pretend you don't read my blog. I know you read my blog. You'd fucking better read my blog. Just cos you're everywhere doesn't mean you can bow out when stuff gets repetitive and boring. That's what you signed up for, generation upon generation of people making the same mistakes, living the same dull lives and then turning up at your door expecting Ambrosia creamed rice.
You made your bed.
And starving butterflies.
And melting caterpillars.
You lunatic.
