Massacre Lore

Grandpa/brother, circa 16 cycles ago. 60x magnification. Click image for original source.

The father/brother was talking to his son/brother, passing down information that had been handed down from generation to generation. “My father/brother told me this story when I was about your age. Now I’m passing it on to you. Someday you’ll share this story with your son/brother.”

“It was many harvest cycles ago…

Your great-great-grandpa/brother described the excitement that rippled through the colony on that fateful day. All came to the great chamber to hear the scouts describe the greatest food source they had ever seen. Even our brothers in the food storage chambers and nurseries came to listen.

The colony really came together that and responded as one. A super-highway was established along the route the scouts had mapped and we committed most of our brothers to the food retrieval project. Things were really going well. Or so we thought.

Something went seriously wrong. With no warning a living thing larger than you could ever imagine appeared. Our brothers were afraid, but in the proudest of our traditions, remained fixed on their goal. To their credit, they never wavered.

The creature thing was enormous, even higher than the tallest structure we’ve ever made. And it moved like the wind. It could cover vast distances in a single step. And it was described at the most hideous thing our kind have ever seen. So ugly it burned a hole in your soul through all of your eyes. No one who lived through that massacre ever forgot what they saw. They were changed.

And yes, it was a massacre. The creature thing came closer and literally crushed and scooped up our brothers by the hundreds. Most were carried away, but some remained, sprinkled dead along the highway. The first attack killed 20 percent of them.

It went away, and it when it returned, it somehow made it rain. It was not a normal rain. It was evil water. And when it touched our brothers they began to squeak and buzz in intense pain. They lost control of their bodies. They violently twitched until they died, which, for most of them, fortunately didn’t take long. Others, however, were merely crippled and took many micro-cycles to pass.

The survivors, of which there were very few, regrouped at the colony. And, I’m proud to say, another group of our brothers immediately set out for that food source along the very same highway. We are not easily deterred!

It is now your duty to remember that day and pass on what you have learned. It rests on you. We are capable of many great things, but our claw hands make it hard to write this down. We must always remain one with the memory of The Massacre.

Finis

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Ants at work can be a pain. Even though the boss has established a fully-functional kitchen in our 20′ x 20′ micro-office and strews food particulate matter all over creation like a friggin’ slob, we have been unable to determine what on Earth could possibly be attracting the little piss ants. (They smell delicious when you crush them with your finger.)

The feeling of working on your computer and noticing an ant working its way up your arm is delightful. Or an ant playing hide-n-seek on your keyboard.

I feel for the new guy. The boss fashioned him a “work space”directly next to his food prep/cooking surface. Good times!

Of course I keep my station under biological threat lockdown. No crumbs are allowed and food waste (wrappers, cups, etc.) are immediately taken out to the dumpster. (I’m the only one who enforces this standard.) There are also regular wipedowns with Clorox moist chemical sheets with enough chemicals to satisfy even a major league baseball pitcher or home run batter.

Even with these defenses, the opposing army can still effectively stage successful incursions into my perimeter. Thus, I have taken up the motto: Always Kill Scouts.

I found this excellent article about ants that contained these amazing facts:

• Scout ants leave the nest and employ a random search pattern in the quest for food. The pattern is described as “meandering outward.” They do not leave a scent trail while in this mode.
• When food is found, the scout proceeds back to the nest in a straight line, while also laying a scent that will direct other ants to the food with the shortest possible route. This means the ant is able to remember where “home” is after all the random movements.
• A straight line is always the shortest distance between two points. However, obstacles may not make it the fastest route. The ants are able to make decisions that allow them to bypass the shortest route if a quicker route is available.

I put this information to good use. One I came to work and there were quite a few ants on my desk. I may have mentioned this in a tweet. I’m not sure. I’m usually so reticent about talking about work.

I immediately killed them all. Then, for the rest of the day, I watched like a hawk for scouts. I killed them all. I figured that if I could find and eliminate thembefore they had the chance to lay a trail eventually I would win. How many scouts are they willing to send intocertain death in this gaping maw of hell I have created, I asked myself.

Eventually it paid off. The next day there were no ants. Yeah.

And yes, before you ask, this is just a small sampling of some of the great accomplishments we undertake at the office. Our business is primarily concerned with everything in the universe except making money. That’s just the way the boss wants it. Friggin’ idiot.