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.
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.