Category Archives: Musings

War Statue The ants are currently under control for the moment, but reflection on this whole adventure has left me with a few interesting thoughts. I know it is a total cliché to tell a huge story of overwhelming adversity and then follow it up with some moralistic tripe about ‘what we’ve learned,’ but bear with me. Truth be told, what little I learned isn’t so life altering and I find myself left with more questions than I have answers. So, here’s what I did learned:

Cinnamon and ants do not mix.

Not quite a life altering realization about the inner self, but rather a simple factoid found on numerous websites and books. Suffice it to say, cinnamon did become my weapon of choice in fighting the war against these ants. The spice is actually quite effective at repelling them. Actually, I should clarify that, it doesn’t really repel them per se (I know, because I tested it with one of their POWs). As I said in my previous post, ants use scent trails to find their way. Cinnamon simply overpowers the scent of their trails. An ant placed in the center of a spice-covered patch of carpet simply wanders around aimlessly, looking for trail that will lead it home. After some aforementioned experimentation, I liberally sprinkled cinnamon along their trail, which I finally located.

Problem solved, at least until I can get my hands on some stronger stuff.

Cinnamon aside, I think what got me the most about this whole experience was the budding realization that how I perceive the world is not always 100% accurate. To explain, let’s look at the eye for a moment. The human eye is an amazing organ. It can distinguish about 10 million colors and can distinguish between two lines a mere 1.75mm apart from a distance of 20 feet. So, with a 1mm long ant at 6 inches, one would think that finding the ants would be easy. Not so.

The human eye has two types of receptors, cones and rods. Cones detect color, while rods only detect light, but are super sensitive. They are arranged inside the eye so that there are more rods along the periphery of your vision than in your direct line of sight. Since they have this arrangement, your peripheral vision tends to detect movements better. When you’re 6 inches from carpet and see movement out of the corner of your eye, you turn your head to see what’s there. Most of the time it turned out to be nothing. As amazing as our visual systems are, they are still prone to errors.

Then there was the little matter of the psychosomatic skin crawling. After being on the receiving end of a few ant bites, any little bit of fluff on my body was immediately perceived to be an ant. My skin has, and still is, on high alert and occasionally feels as if I have been bit even when I have not. It’s all in my mind, and while I haven’t devolved to the level of delusional parasitosis, I still get creepy, crawly sensations all over my body from time to time.

That said, one of the realizations that came to me during this experience was my use of anthropomorphism when dealing with the ants. For those that don’t know, anthropomorphism is when you assign human qualities and characteristics to non-human objects. In this case, I envisioned the ants as enemies, harboring ill will toward me, and generally scheming and planning my demise. None of that is true in the least. I know that the ants are merely following instinctual behavior patterns and their attacks were merely the result of their natural functions. But somewhere deep in my mind, I found that it was a bit easier to deal with them if I gave them some of these characteristics.

Part of me wonders if anthropomorphism is a coping method that we have as humans and if it is in our nature to treat other objects, inanimate or not, as we would treat other human beings. I know several examples from my own life, and from others I know, where I’ve treated an inanimate object like a human. One only needs to see me arguing with my computer or my car to know this is a common occurrence, and not one that I haven’t given much thought to until now.

I’m aware of research that suggest treating pets as humans may be a way of reducing stress by simulating low-level social engagement. I’ve also read studies that seeing someone as an enemy makes it easier for someone to harm another. Whether or not these studies translate over to my personification of ants as enemy soldiers is unknown. All I know is that I’ve won the battle and soon, the war!

WAR!!!! – Part 1

August 5, 2011

Ryan

Musings 1 Comment

I am at war!

It is roughly 4 o’clock in the morning and I have spent the last few hours on my knees. My face is a mere 6 inches from the ground, and I have a strong florescent desk lamp in one hand and while I brace myself with the other. Systematically, I scan the beige colored carpet for tiny, slightly darker colored ants.

This all started a few days ago, when one of the little buggers decided to bite me while I was lying in bed. I quickly dispatched of the tiny creature, a speck no more than a millimeter long. My experience with ants has taught me that if you see one, there are usually others not far behind. A cursory glance around the room did not reveal the source of the ant, but I did find an old candy wrapper that had fallen behind the nightstand. Thinking this was what they may have been looking for; I disposed of the wrapper and went back to bed.

I would like to say this was where the story ended, but that is obviously not the case. The next night, around the same time, another of the ants bit me. The first one was a nuisance; this one indicated that there was something else afoot. At this point, I had not realized that the ants were at war with me. However, my brain began churning over some details about ants that I remembered from grade school.

Ants follow scent trails. The scouts search for food, and leave behind a scented path for the others to follow. What if the first ant had been searching for food and when I squashed him, I accidently marked myself as a tasty treat. From a behavioral standpoint, the ants are just following the behavior patterns they have for eons.

In light of this new data, some worry began to creep into the back of my mind. Somewhere in my subconscious, images of fire ants consuming my body were beginning to form. Every article on killer ants I had ever read was being recalled and placed on the ready, waiting for an opportune moment to release itself upon my conscious mind. However, I managed to calm myself down. Or so I thought.

The mind is an amazing thing. Just the thought of the ants was enough to unnerve me. Not long after I had settled back down, I found myself dealing with a strange new sensation. My skin felt as if thousands of ants were crawling about its surface, each one preparing to strike at a moment’s notice. I checked every itch, every creeping sensation, but found nothing. The feelings were purely psychosomatic. Being a psychology buff, this effect intrigued me. However, my brain did not give me a moments rest. I decided to check my bed, and discovered an ant crawling up the side of it. After disposing of it, I decided that I had to find out where these ants were coming from, for the last time.

Enter the light.

As I said, earlier these ants are only about a millimeter long, and their coloration makes them difficult to spot on the carpet. My grade school knowledge of ants told me that all I had to do was find their trail, then trace it back to where they were getting into the house. Plug the opening with some sort of ant repellent and my problems would be solved. It seemed simple enough, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t locate a trail of ants.

The ants, apparently well versed in military tactics, had abandoned the age-old strategy of lining up nicely and walking in single file. Obviously, these ants had sent their special forces to attack me, knowing that a few well-trained soldiers acting in stealth could be just as effective as a full platoon. So, no matter how hard I searched, I could only find about three or four ants at any given time. To make matters worse, no two ants ever seemed to travel the same direction. So, there was no way to tell where they were going or where they came from.

I smooshed a couple of them that wondered out onto the metal air vent, the one place where they showed up clearly. However, sensing that my sleep would be disturbed if I continued my hunt, I got out the vacuum and made short work of the ants. I did not sleep easy that night. Nevertheless, I figured that the vacuum would be enough to scatter them, forcing them to regroup overnight, rather than mount their attack.

The stunning conclusion to follow later…