Thursday, November 14, 2002
An Educational, if somewhat unsanitary, Blog
I hope you know, this means war
So I'm setting up house in my new apartment and, surprise, it has bugs. Okay, I knew it had bugs because most old buildings that I've seen around this area do have a bug problem. But I like my apartment: the neighborhood; the fact that in the one month that I've been living there, no one has tried to break in; the extra room; and so on, so I figure I'm here to stay. I'm going to roll up my sleeves and go to war with my non-rent paying, six-legged room mates. Before I moved very much stuff in, I fogged up the place. "Now," I think, "I can just leave a few bait thingees around to get the ones that avoided the fog, and I should be good to go." And it might have worked, too, if I all I had to deal with was some good ol' American and German roaches. Actually, I suspect that even my German roaches were hatched locally, so it's probably better to call them German-American roaches. They get citizenship by being born here, as much as I'd like to deport them. Anyhow, the fog seemed to do the trick because I haven't seen hardly any living roaches since then, which is good for them, because I've become war-hardened, as opposed to when I got my last apartment and I was so young, so green...
A pacifist by nature
I really don't like to kill things. Even bugs. This really annoys some people. Especially since many of my friends/coworkers are women, and somehow there seems to be an understanding that a woman cannot squish a bug and therefore the nearest man is obligated to do it for them. I seldom oblige, although I have been known to capture and release the offending insect. When I first moved into my last apartment. I was having trouble with some bugs. I would get up in the middle of the night, click on the living room light, and do a "bug sweep," which involved opening up the front door and sweeping all the roaches out. I'm not sure this was very effective, as my place was far from air tight, but I think eventually most of the bugs started staying out, or at least out sight, just to humour me. Eventually the only intruders I would find would be these giant roaches, which somehow, to my mind, seemed friendlier than the others. Besides, I was assured they were actually out door roaches, and had just wandered in, not to stay, but to have a look around. I started catching them and booting them out the door, too. But they weren't taking the hint. Eventually I had to take a harder line with them. I'd still capture them, but instead of out the door, they'd get flushed. In reality, they probably did not survive the flushing process, but I chose to believe that a) it gave them a fighting chance, and b) if they survived, they'd be a little farther away from my apartment, and therefore a little less likely to return. Of course if they did return, and didn't wipe their feet first, yuck.
No more mister nice guy
Still, easing from "bouncing" roaches to flushing them made the next transition to chemical warfare all the easier. I could never bring myself to use the bait on the big roaches because the package claimed that the roaches ate the bait, then took it back to the nest and shared the poision with the rest of the roach family. I couldn't justify eradicating whole roach families just because one had wandered into my territory. That would be kind of like attacking a whole country just because they might get uppity with you one day... I figured when and if the bugs came in, I'd deal with them individually, on a case-by-case basis. But when I saw some little, tiny roaches hanging out one day, I knew they weren't visiting, but were homesteading, so I graduated to sprays and baits, which might be looked at as being against the current enforcement policy, but they had started moving in, so I had to be a little more ruthless when defending my territory. And I won, too, I think. When I moved out last month, it had been ages since I'd seen a roach, and hopefully I'll be able to adapt the tactics to reclaim my new place from the insectiod invaders...
Attack of the Tachycines asynamorous
Have you seen one of these things? The first time I saw one, I was reminded of the critters in the movie eXistenZ or the those bugs from the early seasons of Star Trek: the Next Generation that tried to take over the Federation by implanting themselves into the necks of high-ranking officers.
Not that my bugs looked at all similar, but they seemed to have a certain unrealness about them, plus they moved in kind of jerky way, reminiscent of badly done stop-animation. Either way, I figure when you're life starts to resemble a Cronenberg movie, it's time to duck and cover. One of the critters showed up on my bathroom floor when I stepped out of the shower yesterday morning. My rule: If you're a bug that makes an audible sound when you move around, you are to big to share my apartment. Plus these things just look scary. I disposed of that one and thought, "I hope he's a loner, because I could stand to go a long time without seeing another one." But no such luck. This morning there was another one waiting outide the bathroom, appearantly waiting for his turn in the shower. Well I supplied his shower via aerosol spray, and now all of his waiting is over. So I tried to find out what I had. I did a google search on "demon crickets" because that seemed to be the best description I could come up with. It turns out there is such a thing as a demon cricket, and thank goodness it's not what I have.
I don't like to step on bugs or kill them at all if possible(except for the really freaky ones), but I like to think that if I did take one on, I would unquestionably be the victor, but with a bug the size of my hand, and me being out of shape and sporting two less limbs than that thing, well, let's just say I'm glad I don't have actual demon crickets to go up against.
It turns out that what I have is called a camel cricket or a cave cricket or, also known as a greenhouse or stone cricket or as I like to call it, a "what the f**k is that?!?!?!"
Everything you wanted to know about Camel Crickets but were really afraid to ask
Once the culprit was identified, I was able to find a wealth of info on the Camel Cricket. There seem to be a number of pesticide suppliers with information, as well as info supplied by some universities(the pictures link to their sources if you really want to bone up on your insects spawned from satan).
What I really found interesting was two sites about raising and keeping these things(site 1 site 2). I guess it takes all sorts. I know, I'm supposed to be above being taken in by appearances, I mean, I'm no prize myself, but I can't help it. I'm just sure these things are evil. They don't even make the pleasant, cricket chirping noise. The info I have says they make no noise at all, but I've heard them click across the tile bathroom floor. And also I'm pretty certain they make another sound, too, although I've yet to hear them do it. It's a sound from "The Devil Went Down to Georgia," where the devil starts to play the violin and song goes "And he pulled the bow across the strings and it made an evil hiss." That's sound I imagine they make, down in my dank, dark basement, plotting their next foray into the world of men to do the evil bidding of their master. Or maybe they're just regular bugs, I don't know.
posted 6:02 PM
