AI-generated image (by me) of Bugs, Bugs Bunny, Bugsy Malone, all blended into one. It looks like a buggy bunny gangsta with a grungy bug feel to it

Have I ever mentioned that I hate bugs? Well, let me tell you.

From the wascally wabbit, Bugs Bunny, with his carrot-chomping grin to the uninvited guests at every picnic, those backyard bugs. Even the notorious Bugsy Malone, with his splurge gun antics, can’t worm his way into my affections. Those invisible flu bugs? They knock us flat when we least expect it. And don’t even get me started on computer bugs — the gremlins lurking in our machines, ready to turn a day’s work into digital dust.

And bugs, by the way, they’re not fond of me and my wife, either.

Bugs in Fiction are No Improvement!

It’s a universal truth that bugs rarely endear themselves to anyone. They annoy with their persistence, disturb with their presence, and sometimes horrify with their very existence. Take for example the silver screen monstrosity ‘The Human Centipede.’ Roger Ebert, may he rest in peace, captured it succinctly when he remarked, “This is a sick, sick film.” A sentiment to which I wholeheartedly tip my hat.

But what about bugs in fiction? The ones weaved into stories, anthropomorphized with traits that sometimes reflect the best of humanity? Well, don’t take my word for it. Just look at Roald Dahl’s ‘James and the Giant Peach.’ Mr. Centipede struts into politics as New York’s mayor and adopts the role of James’ father. Miss Spider spins her way into the nightclub scene, becoming his doting mother. Earthworm wriggles into the spotlight as a skin-care mascot, and by default, James’ uncle. Mrs. Ladybug flutters into the medical field as an obstetrician, assuming the title of aunt. Mr. Grasshopper leaps into a musical career as a concert violinist, grandly stepping into the shoes of a grandfather. And Glowworm? She illuminates the path to liberty as the very light in the torch of the Statue of Liberty, warmly embracing the role of James’ grandmother. A whimsical family tree, no doubt, pulled straight from the fertile grounds of Wikipedia (yes, pinch of salt taken).

Yet, for all these creatively spun yarns, bugs and I have maintained a mutual dislike. They invade my space, I shoo them away — our dance is one of mutual disdain.

The Featured Image Bug is a Feature; Not a Bug (Exactly)

But then there’s the bug in the Featured Image. This dapper fellow, dressed to the nines and straight out of a bygone era, with an air of mystery and a twinkle in his eye. This, dear readers, is a bug I can tolerate. Why? Perhaps it’s the human touch, the artistic flair. After all, I had a hand in its creation, and it’s safely contained within the realm of pixels and imagination.

In conclusion, whether they creep, crawl, fly, or even campaign for office, bugs are an unfascinating bunch of buggy bastards. They’re the villains I hate and the characters that do not intrigue me even in tales.

My disdain for them might be unwavering, but I begrudgingly appreciate their place in our stories and our ecosystems — albeit from a considerable distance.

So here’s to the bugs — may they stay forever in fiction and far from my home.

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