Jambo, Mr. Nature here–with a dragonfly that has a two-foot wingspan. Sometimes a little more.
Meganeura is prehistoric, so don’t worry about one flying into your car while you’re driving on the highway. Once upon a time, some insects grew to spectacular size (although not to the degree celebrated in assorted 1950s monster movies). Scientists think it was possible for them to grow so large because there was more oxygen in the air then than there is today. Mixing the air is God’s prerogative.
Dragonflies, totally harmless to humans, eat mosquitoes. As far as I’m concerned, we can never have too many dragonflies.
This was going to be an emergency bulletin from Joe Collidge, but he is currently prostrated with fear and unable to write coherently. Also some gym socks he ate for breakfast have disagreed with him.
It seems there’s a growing rumor of giant crabs depopulating islands and dragging whole coastal villages into the deep, all because of Climate Change and Greta Thunberg. Back in 1957, this was cleverly disguised as a science fiction movie. But in 2020, it’s a grim reality.
Or so we’re told. By college professors. So you know it’s got to be true.
Only world government, open borders, and real high taxes can stop the giant crabs.
Did I read that right–the town of Tom River, NJ (where my sister lives), is being “terrorized” by… wild turkeys? (https://www.insider.com/wild-turkeys-terrorizing-toms-river-new-jersey-2019-11).
It could be a 1950s horror movie: Attack of the Wild Turkeys. “See the turkeys take revenge for all those Thanksgiving dinners! See it if you dare!” See them–according to nooze reports–pecking roofs, breaking windows on cars, and “attacking residents.” A former major league baseball player went so far as to tweet the governor, pleading for the state to rescue the beleaguered township: “They trashed my yard!” he laments.
It’s supposedly a “gang”–do turkeys have gangs?–of 40 to 60 birds. Their favorite target, we are told, is the 55-and-over community called Holiday City. Do the turkeys know it’s called that? No wonder they’re on the warpath.
Having lived in the suburbs all my life, I don’t know much about wild turkeys. I do know you can’t shoot them in New Jersey. Not that it would be a good idea for a lot of residents to cut loose with the lead. The houses are way too close together for that.
Some of you who grew up in the country, what do you say? Are turkeys dangerous to humans? Has anyone ever been killed and eaten by turkeys? Did the turkeys want succotash and cranberry sauce with that?
Well, the earth is the Lord’s (Ps. 24), not ours: we just live on it. A few years ago, one day, we had some wild turkeys in our neighborhood. They strolled across the street to St. Francis Cathedral and stood around by the Christmas creche. They looked like they belonged there.
Can we say the same?
We all have our guilty little secrets, and we have all heard that confession is good for the soul. Today I’ll put that to the test.
There are certain things I absolutely shouldn’t like, there must be something wrong with me, how can I live with the shame of it, etc. “Ah! And what are those things?” I don’t hear you ask. Here I will fess up to three of them, and let the chips fall where they may.
1950s horror movies featuring giant insects and crustaceans continue to delight me. What could be finer, on a summer afternoon, than slipping into the air-conditioned darkness of the old Forum Theater to watch army men vainly try to stave off the attacks of giant bugs? If only we had some of those bugs for the Democrat National Convention…
The Three Stooges: thanks to Youtube, I can get the Three Stooges anytime I want–oh, huzzah! You may wonder why the Three Stooges wrecking someone’s house as they try to install a light bulb is funny, but colleges and Congress wrecking America is not. Thing is, when the Stooges are over, they’re over–and no harm has been done to anything or anyone. We don’t have to live with the consequences of the Three Stooges’ actions. And what a relief that is!
Finally, snow. Everybody else crabs and cranks on those rare occasions when it snows (rare around here, I mean: I don’t live in Buffalo). I love to watch it come down and cover up the mud; and for a little while, the neighborhood is quiet. Snow is the only thing, short of the end of the world, that can take away the constant roar of traffic. Engine noise is 24/7 in these parts; but a respectable snowfall can shut it down for 20 minutes or so. And then there is the evergreen memory of not having to go to school that day because it’s snowed. Yes, I admit it: I’d rather go sledding or ice-skating, or build snowmen or snow forts, than sit in a classroom “learning” something which I’ve totally forgotten by now.
As for the question of how I can live with the shame… well, as best I can, I guess.
I cannot understand my wife’s total lack of interest in such cinematic treasures as Attack of the Crab Monsters. She must be a racist. This 1957 gem of a movie accurately portrays what must be done in the event that giant crabs try to take over the world. We have been warned!