I'm not someone who thinks that hotter summers is a reason to welcome global warming, and I've never understood why people love heat so much. There was a time in Britain – when I was young – when you need never sweat, if only you never exerted yourself. Those days are gone. Another disadvantage of a hotter climate is the rise of unpleasant insects. Previously, most British insects, like most British wildlife generally, have been of the innocuous kind that would make good secondary characters in a story by Beatrix Potter. The reason there are no mosquito screens on the windows and doors in Britain is that we've never had mosquitoes before. These days, however, there are summer nights when the evil whine of the mosquito keeps me awake. I have at least some trouble with the idea of eating a thing I would not be prepared to kill. I am quite prepared to kill mosquitoes, though, unfortunately, I don't find the thought of eating them appetising.
Anyway… recently I have had something of a struggle with nocturnal insects. I have come to the conclusion that a kind of airlock must be enforced at night between the bathroom and my bedroom. The bathroom window tends to be open now, because the nights are so balmy, and when the light is on, after a few moments, whole battalions of winged insects come throbbing in from the dark. I need a light on in my bedroom to find my way back there, but if I then turn the light off in the bathroom, the insects – mainly moths – are drawn along the landing from the bathroom to my room, and I have the choice of removing them, killing them, or spending some hours in sleeplessness. Moths, I prefer not to kill. So, I am careful with windows, doors and lights.
By the way, do you know why moths are attracted to light? Neither do I. It is a question that some people occasionally ask. Bizarrely, it only occurred to me to ask the question the other day. That is, I'm sure I've said to myself or someone else before, "Yeah, why do moths like lights so much?" But I've never really asked the question. It's never really occurred to me that there might be an actual answer. So, for the first time ever, I've done some research on the matter (though admittedly very little), and I've found this:
There seems little reason a moth should be distracted from its business of sipping nectar and avoiding predators by something as dangerous as an artificial light. Yet, porch lamps and streetlights are irresistible beacons to moths. Moths circle the light as if mesmerized, in frenzied, dizzy orbits. Once caught in their blind orbits, moths become easy prey for bats and nighthawks, or they batter themselves to death, or singe their wings to uselessness on hot surfaces, or die of exhaustion. And nobody knows why.
So, there you have it. Nobody knows.
I think I like moths better for this. Victor Pelevin deals with moths in The Life of Insects and gives a deep philosophical answer to their attraction to light, but I'm not sure I can paraphrase, or that his treatment of the subject in any way illuminates (so to speak) the essential mystery.
I think there's a common perception that moths are rather drab and not as attractive as butterflies. This might be partly because they are nocturnal and partly because, in Britain at least, moths' colours tend to be limited to a palette of brown and grey. However, I think I may be changing my mind about this.
The other night, I was brushing my teeth and looked down into the basin to see that a moth had been caught in a blob of toothpaste foam that I'd spat out. I put the tip of my forefinger in front of the moth so it could get a grip, and pulled it out of its minty marsh. I had no idea if it would survive. Anyway, I put it on the edge of the basin and hoped it would be able to walk off the toothpaste. I examined the moth as I did so, and it seemed to me not so much grey, as a kind of sleek, silvery white, like a little, delicate snippet of the most beautiful, shimmering lingerie.
(An excuse to post here a music video of moth-like beauty):
(Admittedly the graphics there seem to be on a butterfly rather than moth theme, but I think they are paying tribute to the human moths they surround.)
Anyway, I finished brushing my teeth and went to bed.
The next day I found the moth on the edge of the open window frame. I suppose it had crawled there rather than flown. It was motionless, stuck. It was as if the drying toothpaste had glued or welded the poor insect to the wood. It was dead. Mummified. Embalmed in toothpaste. And I put this stuff in my mouth twice a day!, I mused to myself (meaning the toothpaste, not dead moths).
The perils of this world are many and the dramas strange. Who knows but that we are all moths drawn towards the light of a bathroom at night, and caught in the toothpaste of the gods.
Maybe.
Well, I had to finish the story somehow.
That reminds me of the first time I had an encounter with moon moths.Several years ago in Virginia, I was up late, well past midnight, reading. I had the lamp on and the sliding glass door to the back porch open, enjoying the summer evening and listening to the leaves rustling in the forest behind the house. I suddenly hear a *whap! thud! Whap-whap-whap!* There were about 5 or so ginormous moths, amongst the group of smaller, more normal sized moths. They were all happily banging against the glass – trying to break in. The moon moths were big enough to cause very audible bangs. These things were the size of my head. Seriously. After the initial “Jesus Christ! What the Hell is that?! Where’s my shotgun??” reaction I went to take a closer look. Their wings were a pale yellow, like butter, and they had some of the most intricate designs, all eyes and swirls. There was something oddly beautiful about them.But, a giant moth’s body and head are rather creepy. They really do look like little aliens.
That reminds me in turn of a night I spent wandering some suburbs of Chicago, or of some satellite of Chicago, and I’m sure I saw some quite spectacular moths, and, on the pavement opposite me, a deer.I’m also reminded of this, for some reason:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OvMoRVrqx_I
Cap writes:After I move I’ll comment here about the insects I encounter in my current room. It’s night here and I have to go back there shortly and I’m afraid if I list their names it will summon them out.Good luck with your insect struggles.
You could buy some mosquito incense and light it after dark. Moths make holes in your clothes when you least expect it and I hate the smell of mothballs.
Alexandra writes:I have a very unhealthy and unreasonable phobia of moths. If one is trapped in my bedroom, I have a very difficult time falling asleep. My basement was infested with moths once, and of course they quickly spread throughout the rest of the house. It was a nightmare for me, literally. Luckily it all got sorted out in the end.On another note, I adore “Life’s What You Make It”. I totally forgot how eerie that video was.
Presumably the sun has something to do with a moth’s habit of heading towards a bright light. Perhaps it’s a moth’s way of getting the last of the days nectar, by heading towards the setting sun to find flowers to feed from, before any other moths finish the nectar off.Or perhaps they’re just incredibly curious of technology. I once showed a standard vibrator to a speckled moth and it started having a religious-esque spasm on my bedroom windowsill! God only knows what would happen if I showed it a rabbit! :eyes:Am I the only one who had a twinge in his groin when watching that spasm video? :confused:
Originally posted by anonymous: It’s night here and I have to go back there shortly and I’m afraid if I list their names it will summon them out.I understand. I currently have my bedroom window open and am surprised to note no insects as yet. Perhaps I’m tempting fate.Originally posted by solid copper:You could buy some mosquito incent and light it after dark. Moths make holes in your clothes when you least expect it and I hate the smell of mothballs.I’m not sure they sell them round here, unfortunately, mosquitoes being such a new problem in Britain. But I do like the little coils of mosquito incense I remember from Japan. I also like the smell of mothballs. Brings back such memories…Originally posted by anonymous:I have a very unhealthy and unreasonable phobia of moths. If one is trapped in my bedroom, I have a very difficult time falling asleep. My basement was infested with moths once, and of course they quickly spread throughout the rest of the house.So, would I be right in saying that for you, Mothra is the ultimate screen monster?Originally posted by anonymous:It was a nightmare for me, literally.I’m very tempted to be pedantic here.Originally posted by anonymous:On another note, I adore “Life’s What You Make It”. I totally forgot how eerie that video was.From a great album. Whatever happened to Talk Talk?Originally posted by adamfoxley:Presumably the sun has something to do with a moth’s habit of heading towards a bright light. Perhaps it’s a moth’s way of getting the last of the days nectar, by heading towards the setting sun to find flowers to feed from, before any other moths finish the nectar off.Actually, in the place I linked to, from which I quoted the “nobody knows why” bit, some similar theories were offered. But I left them out because I just wanted to end with, “And nobody knows why.” Originally posted by adamfoxley:Or perhaps they’re just incredibly curious of technology.This seems the more plausible explanation.Originally posted by adamfoxley:I once showed a standard vibrator to a speckled moth and it started having a religious-esque spasm on my bedroom windowsill! God only knows what would happen if I showed it a rabbit! I was wondering earlier how they actually discovered the psychic powers of Paul the psychic octopus originally. They must have been idly showing flags to the octopus while engaged in making bets on football teams or something. Anyway, in a similar vein (?), the idea of showing sex toys to insects opens up whole new vistas of possible research and discovery.
TC writes:oh you were in Chicago, that’s my home city.What did you think of it?
I’ve been there a few times. I know people there. You will no doubt recognise some of this:http://my.opera.com/quentinscrisp/albums/show.dml?id=646139Last time I went, when these photos were taken, I had a good time. The time with the deer that I mentioned above was not so great, but that was due to circumstances, and wasn’t Chicago’s fault. The first time I went, I was too young to remember much. …My name is called… I’ll have to write more later.
I was wondering earlier how they actually discovered the psychic powers of Paul the psychic octopus originally – Quentin BoyOh come on, everyone knows that Paul The Psychic Octopus is a cyborg who escaped from a CIA laboratory in Area 51! Who with his newly found mental abilities above that of the average football analyst, made predictions to satisfy his out of control ego on a world stage! :sherlock:
Originally posted by adamfoxley:Oh come on, everyone knows that Paul The Psychic Octopus is a cyborg who escaped from a CIA laboratory in Area 51! Who with his newly found mental abilities above that of the average football analyst, made predictions to satisfy his out of control ego on a world stage!If I’d kept up with the football scene, I would have known this. I feel so foolish now. I want to write a novel about Paul the Psychic Octopus, but I suppose it’s already been done. Or, if it hasn’t, it’s because the subject is too dangerous. If I wrote the wrong thing, I might find myself being tipped over the edge of a bridge in the dead of night.Originally posted by anonymous:TC writes:oh you were in Chicago, that’s my home city.What did you think of it?To get back to this question, I don’t really have a strong sense of the specific characteristics of Chicago, as opposed to other American cities. I do have connections in Chicago, though. Also, I like white wooden porches, which are not to be found much in the centre of Chicago, of course, but which I did find elsewhere. I also enjoyed the lakeshore, and being taken around the city in a horse-drawn cart was very pleasant. The food was also very good, although I remember on the last visit being hassled by a waitress who obviously wanted us (two of us) to order more than we did. I can’t handle that kind of pressure.Maybe what I really need is a guide to the seedier side of the city, as I’ve only really been to the safe, touristy sort of places.
an albino moth, quite pleased with itself befriended me at camp deerhorn in wisconsin. i was about ten. he stayed on my shoulder through the day and did his thing, i guess, at night, because he was gone as far as i could tell… out gallivanting. but for many days he was there when i woke up. moths are very strange beings.by the way quentin, i am right now reveling in ‘karakasa’, about halfway through your book, “all god angels, beware!”. although, i have read the last story first. the only way to read your fascinating writing is to give it my full attention. that’s what’s taking me so long. i love it but i only get to read it when i am taking my half hour in my little backyard in the hot sun. sometimes i get engrossed enough to read on in easier conditions.oh, and the solution to getting around in the dark, from bathroom to bed, is a candle. then you will no doubt be amused at the kamikaze insect cremations.
Sounds like another lost cause. :rolleyes:
Originally posted by I_ArtMan:an albino moth, quite pleased with itself befriended me at camp deerhorn in wisconsin. i was about ten. he stayed on my shoulder through the day and did his thing, i guess, at night, because he was gone as far as i could tell… out gallivanting. but for many days he was there when i woke up. moths are very strange beings.I don’t think I’ve ever met an albino moth. I do think they are strange, yes. I believe I learnt something about caterpillars and butterflies at school, but nothing about moths. They must be occult creatures of some kind.Originally posted by I_ArtMan:by the way quentin, i am right now reveling in ‘karakasa’, about halfway through your book, “all god angels, beware!”. although, i have read the last story first. the only way to read your fascinating writing is to give it my full attention. that’s what’s taking me so long. i love it but i only get to read it when i am taking my half hour in my little backyard in the hot sun. sometimes i get engrossed enough to read on in easier conditions.I’m glad you’re finding it absorbing. I do tend to write rather densely – I hope this goes towards justifying the rather hefty and expensive book. Anyway, I hope that you find the remaining half of the book interesting, too. I’d be happy to hear any thoughts when you’ve finished.Originally posted by I_ArtMan:oh, and the solution to getting around in the dark, from bathroom to bed, is a candle. then you will no doubt be amused at the kamikaze insect cremations.I do like candles, so I’m tempted to take this up for the sheer aesthetic ritual of it. However, it would only be for the length of the landing, really, since I need full light to read, etc., so I might have to shelve this plan for now.
Originally posted by solid copper:Sounds like another lost causeI wonder if I’ll ever find anything that’s not.
lucy pling writes:hi, my name is lucy i am a 10 year old girl and my worst fear is …… moths ! not the ones that eat your clothes but the ordainary ones the fly in my house and because my favourite colour is yellow, a bright colour nearly looking like light,my mum buy’s me so many yellow top’s so ovoiously i shall wear them but my problem is that moths get attracted to yellow and i’m writing this on my dsixl and there’ a moth in my kitchen he/she slept over night as if he/she was having a sleep over and i had this dream,proper nightmear,that i was on the internet when all those things pop up and i said moths can eat you and posion you or even kill you,i’m scared god help me!
Hello Lucy.I hope the moth enjoyed its sleepover and wasn’t too much of a nuisance. I’m not sure there’s a solution to the moth problem that doesn’t involve not wearing yellow. They are harmless, of course, but I’m sure you know this.By the way, in your dream, just a suggestion but, if you are attacked by a moth, don’t run away. Just see what happens. You can’t die in dreams, so something interesting could happen.
lucy pling writes:thankyou,quiten s crisp well it says that on my dsixl its very kind of you to help me on my mmmmm…..m..o…t…h.h..h,moth situation my daddy said today at about 2.30 midnight this “not to be scared of moths besides they die in 6 hours minimum and then he showed me a dead moth behind the curtain which made me scream had feel happy (is that how you spell “minimum” ?) and no i didnt know that they werent harmless and i will try that dream …?weird no one plans their dream lol!
lucy pling writes:did that make sence to you ?
Hello again, Lucy.I believe you have spelt ‘minimum’ correctly, yes. Good luck with the dreams!Originally posted by anonymous:lucy pling writes:did that make sence to you ?I wasn’t sure about this bit:”i didnt know that they werent harmless”Do you mean, you didn’t know they were harmless? I think an unnecessary negative has slipped in there. Two negatives make a positive, even though two wrongs don’t make a right, etc.Are you ready for a picture of a large but beautiful moth? If so, here’s a link:http://www.scenicreflections.com/files/Madagascar_Moon_Moth_Wallpaper__yvt2.jpg
lucy pling writes:i knew that i had spelt minium correctly but i wasnt so surei have been waiting for your reply all of today and yesterday!the question i asked and you which you then figured out was correct ,a possitve just slipped in there. i viewed the picture i tried to imagine it as a butterfly but …beautiful butterflies…mukkie moths… im sorry but moths really doesnt connect with me and im waiting for your reply
Originally posted by anonymous:i knew that i had spelt minium correctly But not this time!Originally posted by anonymous:i have been waiting for your reply all of today and yesterday!I’m sorry to hear this. I’m not sure you should be spending your time waiting for boring replies like this from people on the internet. I’m sure it would be much more fun for you to be out in the sunshine examining butterflies, and maybe even moths.I expect your father would agree – you should ask him. Have a good time with those butterflies!
Apologies. That might’ve sounded unkind.In all seriousness, though, I do think your time would be better spent with living butterflies in the sun, than waiting for replies from some internet fellow.