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Last night I met Phil for some beers. He was really into politics. I was surprised to find out how little I know (or, frankly, care) about what's going on in the world. Whenever I see someting in the news, there's always this immediate response in my brain: You have other things to worry about. I mentioned this to Phil and he said "Oh, yeah, that would be 'Take care of your own garden'", which is a line I connected to Descartes, but it's from Voltaire, actually (I always mix up these two guys. Same thing with Ambrose Bierce and Pierce Brosnam. And "uvula" with "vulva", this last one already having caused the most embarrassing 30 minutes in my adult life, but that's a story for another day).
Phil said he had some interesting papers he'd love to show me about this concept, "entomofascism", which is the way he describes the innate mindset operating within an insect colony. He was transported by his ideas to an euphoric state which contrasts so much with his usual furtive ways, I could just watch fascinated, and feeling a little bit envious: I'm definitely a man of hobbies, not of passions...
But, as I was saying, Phil was feeling upset about the state of matters in the world, all the confusion, avarice running rampant. Then he mentioned the "pure altruism", "constant humiliation of the ego" which were the norm in insect societies (which I think is more than taking some poetic liberties with a bunch of bugs, by the way).
I was a little dizzy (after we were done with the beers he had produced a small bottle with some liquor he wouldn't tell me what it was.), that's why I asked him, abruptly, what would he feel if, just like Gregor Samsa, he woke up one day to find he had become a huge insect.
And he replied, with a smirk:
"Everybody is someone else's bug, if you look up high enough". Which got me completely lost, but I was too drunk already to care.
Oh, and by the way: All the roaches disappeared from my place. Gone. I couldn't find even a withered carcass behind the fridge. So hooray.
Phil said he had some interesting papers he'd love to show me about this concept, "entomofascism", which is the way he describes the innate mindset operating within an insect colony. He was transported by his ideas to an euphoric state which contrasts so much with his usual furtive ways, I could just watch fascinated, and feeling a little bit envious: I'm definitely a man of hobbies, not of passions...
But, as I was saying, Phil was feeling upset about the state of matters in the world, all the confusion, avarice running rampant. Then he mentioned the "pure altruism", "constant humiliation of the ego" which were the norm in insect societies (which I think is more than taking some poetic liberties with a bunch of bugs, by the way).
I was a little dizzy (after we were done with the beers he had produced a small bottle with some liquor he wouldn't tell me what it was.), that's why I asked him, abruptly, what would he feel if, just like Gregor Samsa, he woke up one day to find he had become a huge insect.
And he replied, with a smirk:
"Everybody is someone else's bug, if you look up high enough". Which got me completely lost, but I was too drunk already to care.
Oh, and by the way: All the roaches disappeared from my place. Gone. I couldn't find even a withered carcass behind the fridge. So hooray.