despite my vaguely-established quasi-pro-life viewpoint established recently, the time has come to resort to vile tactics in order to deal with the increasing influx of immigrant individuals into this sovereign nation. I will therefore be establishing foodstuff distributorships at strategic locations stocked with poisoned goods to be dispersed to scout individuals to be taken back to their primary residence and consumed with the intent of destroying them within their own homes.

Of course, i'm talking about the ants. I was fine with a couple scouts running along the walls or showing up here and there, but when they began cluttering my desk and ascending my legs en masse while working in the studio our unspoken agreement had been irrevocably breached.

I refer to a decision reached some years ago in the case of "Me Vs. The Deer Ticks" wherein a similar situation had arisen involving my computer workspace, and my personal hexagon had been invaded by hostiles with the express intent to burrow into my skin and consume my fluids while introducing foreign viruses into vital appendages. The accused were summarily executed and the premises scoured for holdouts in a bloody purge that lasted more than a day. Families were destroyed and the veil of security was irreparably shattered, and it was my intent that my iron-fisted decision would stand as an example to all vermin who would pull this type of horseplay.

I was tempted to extend a degree of mercy when the ants took up these shenanigans, as i had relocated since the Tick fiasco and my brand of Texas justice was foreign to these critters. But I regret to inform you good people that there exists a communications barrier between man and insect bridged only by violence and hate, for it is all we understand of one another. Since ants do not respond to the King's English (i suspect out of their slavering devotion to their queen) I attempted to assert my will via smashing individuals in plain sight when their trespasses interfered with me. Normally, in the course of political relations, such high-profile killings stand as calls to action. I would have accepted emissaries or diplomatic summits in order to redefine our respective zones, and would gladly have ceded control of the outdoor garbage collection area to their exclusive authority. These terms were more than reasonable, but their persistence proved fatal. I commenced several dozen more public executions, to no avail.

So regrettably, we have moved forward into chemical warfare.

Ants occupy every sector of my territory and in spite of very vocal warnings have moved high concentrations of their forces into sensitive restricted areas and have openly molested inhabitants of apartment 2. They have spat on diplomacy and have exhibited despicable indifference to the deaths of their own comrades. Therefore I have allocated funds to be set aside for the acquisition of poison-laced foodstuffs in a clandestine bid of cloak-and-dagger assassination of their leader and her subjects. The stakes will be placed at unspecified points and will be monitored for effectiveness. Should these measures prove inadequate we will not hesitate to escalate the offensive and commence spraying operations to carpet whole areas with chemical attacks even at the cost of the banana stockpile.

__________

In other news...

This is totally self-serving, but the other day commented on my Moto-Bomango piece [link]
and made mention of a fascinating archetype that's rather common in sci-fi: that of the deranged always getting access to the most destructive toys.

It ranks right up there with the old "an accident in the laboratory" shtick (another favorite plot device), where some type of super-soldier or what-have-ya is totally front-loaded with next-gen weaponry but somehow never seems to undergo advanced mental conditioning to offset possible psychoses. Personally, i think it's NEAT-O for story purposes to bypass the hell out of regulations and throw caution to the tornado but it IS kind of funny when you think how many antagonists are just allowed to be crazy as hell. Even in the real world your average tyrant is usually like "Well, shoot, if this is going to happen right i suppose we ought to make sure our ducks are in a row". But in storyland, all it takes is pure uncut crazy and the will to outfit your basket case with all kinds of kooky accessories.

so in a (hopefully) rare bit of self-re-posting, i want to share my response from the VanHeist Board of Mad Science meeting #265 on the ill-advised activation of subject Moto-Bomango:

"This prototype is highly unstable, exhibits a monstrous capacity for total mental breakdown, is prone to fits of boundless rage, and has a marked distaste for authority combined with a physiology specifically designed to counter offensive actions. Note also the inclusion of a reactor core whose malfunction or possible destruction could cause a shockwave of carnage within a six-block radius.

"It is therefore clear, gentlemen, that we must arm this abomination with state-of-the-art, maximum-devastation weaponry. I submit that without the proper lethal armaments, any potential (and altogether 100% likely) existential crises this unit undergoes will lack the capacity to bludgeoningly reinforce the timeless message of Man foolishly meddling with forces he cannot comprehend.

"We must also rush this unit into a combat situation immediately without further testing. We must abort any additional formal training so that the prototype's psychology is swifty warped by the rigors of battle, causing it to revert to a primordial state of self-preserving frenzy, annihilating its sense of reason and loyalty and triggering a psychotic bloodlust that will push it to the brink of total insanity. Only then can we be assured of compliance with the well-worn tenets of gross mismanagement regarding traditional super-soldier canon!"

Thank you.

ja, mata