Mosquitoes Suck

The sun shines and warms and lights us, and we have no curiosity to know why this is so; but we ask the reason of all evil, of pain and hunger, and mosquitoes and silly people.

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

Recently, we celebrated the birthday of our great nation. We celebrated by eating hot dogs and hamburgers, setting off fireworks, and apparently inviting small, flying parasites to dine on…well, me. As we were sitting out in our lawn chairs watching the explosions in the air, I realized that I was just bitten by a mosquito. I know this because of my extensive research as a child. By research, I do mean my time as what I can only describe as a human pin cushion. For some God-forsaken reason, mosquitoes were drawn to me as a kid. I looked as if chicken pox was a chronic condition for me. Seriously, you would think my dad was Lazarus or something. I am pretty sure that if the show had existed back then, my parents could have applied for Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. They would have included pictures of their pock-marked son covered in calamine and the bus would have pulled up shortly thereafter. I can only imagine my interview would resemble that of an interview with a crack addict that needed a fix…all of the scratching – the incessant scratching. In the end, the only improvement that would have been made to the house would be a giant mosquito net encompassing our entire lot, and possibly a year’s supply of OFF.

Speaking of OFF, yes, I did use it this year. As soon as that first bloodthirsty bastard bit me, I immediately reached for the can. I doused myself in this miracle aerosol and I did not feel another bite the rest of the evening. I was so relieved; it worked. Or so I thought. As I sit here and write this, my legs are covered in approximately 15-20 raised, red itch factories. So, I guess the spray that is supposed to create this repellent bubble around me as illustrated in the clever commercials is actually only a sugar-scented numbing agent that gives the consumer a false sense of security and hope. I couldn’t feel the bites, so they didn’t happen, right? Nope. It is 100 degrees outside, and I am tempted to wear corduroy pants just so they will scratch my legs as I walk.

Calamine – that stuff is a crock too. As a kid, calamine was only available in the pink form. Yeah, this is not traumatizing at all. I believe this is where we got the expression “add insult to injury”.

I know that you are constantly scratching red bumps all over your body to the point of discomfort and utter shame and the neighborhood kids won’t play with you, but here let’s put this medicine that looks like Pepto Bismol all over you so that you can feel better.

I think putting me in a bubble would have been less traumatizing. I am also convinced that this is another psychological thing, too. Surely my parents wouldn’t put this awful stuff on me and threaten my place in society if it didn’t work. It did not work. You think it works, but as soon as anything so much as grazes one bite, it is over. Let the clawing commence.

After a weekend full of scarring myself, I decided to research the actual usefulness of mosquitoes. Most of what I could come up with is that they have something to do with the food chain, or the circle of life, or something like that. Here is the science lesson I was given: these flying leeches feed off the blood of animals; they then are eaten by bats; the bats poop; the poop fertilizes the soil; we eat the products of the poop-soil; and then, the mosquitoes bite us some more. It is also stated that without mosquitoes, the bats would not be nourished, and thus would not poop. No bat poop, less food for us. I am pretty sure that I could do without the small amount of food that is made possible by the defecation of bats in order to rid the planet of mosquitoes. I am willing to make that sacrifice. If carrots were not possible because of the lack of bat-poop, I would be willing to find a carrot replacement.

Also in my research, I discovered that mosquitoes do make other contributions as well: malaria, dengue fever, yellow fever, encephalitis, and West Nile virus. Thank you so much. Now, who’s with me on giving up carrots, huh?

The mosquito’s only purpose, as far as I can tell, is to piss us off. That is all. They harm us, they steal from us, they disfigure us, they torture us (itching), and then they flee the scene. If this was a human doing the same thing to us, they would be in prison, and yet the mosquito flies away satisfied from the very meal we provided.  

If you think I am being a little extreme, think back to the last time you killed a mosquito and how much joy it brought to you. A person will spend 10 minutes attempting to kill a mosquito. During this 10 minutes, nothing else matters but the death of that parasitic SOB. Think of the last time you saw one in your car. Imagine your determination at that moment. When you know a mosquito is near, the outside world is non-existent until you see the carcass of the airborne pathogen in your hand.

I typically try and end my posts on some redeeming quality or anecdote. Unfortunately, in the case of mosquitoes, there are no redeeming qualities to speak of. I challenge you to find someone that just loves them. Look at the picture below, and try not to shudder. They are a species that needs to be eradicated, and I am doing my best with each swat of my hand. Join me!