The latest night security drama: I made art, social commentary, highlighted the difficulty of applying ancient Scriptures directly and literally to our contemporary 21st century issues, and most importantly, I made a friend. In some cultures, I would have made food instead. But this is Texas – they may eat catfish, but they do not eat bugs, not even battered and deep-fried, nor do they often eat their work buddies. As someone who is formally trained in cross-cultural sensitivity, I thought it best to apply my education and not eat my new friend. It scares me to think of all those people who don’t have such education, running around the world, eating their new friends. Misunderstood cultural faux pas can cause wars, you know.
Have you ever been in a park with birds or squirrels, and you want to feed them, and someones says, “Just be real still and quiet and they’ll come to you.” Well it was just like that – I was just sitting still reading some Stanley Grenz and my friend just came to me, sat right there on the keyboard.
Yet, it would be disingenuous of me to give the impression that this was an easy choice to make, not to eat my new work buddy. I have tried to artistically display my inner-deliberations through the photographic works of art embedded in this post. Even as I write this I’m tempted to scratch a bite – continual reminders of the dirty who-gets-to-bite-who societal double standards. Some nights on the job I unleash pitiless wrath on every insect that dares enter my personal space, which in this job encompasses the entire first floor of the building.
So I let him live. He camped out on the keyboard and chewed on his legs and one of his antennae (the one I messed with a bit) for hours while I ate cereal, read, and considered contemplating the metaphorical potential of an insect having a good time while oblivious to the giant can of insecticide casting its perceived yet uncomprehended presence over the evenings festivities … for we are like grasshoppers. Hmmm… food for thought.