Have you ever noticed how a lot of something really pretty can be really, really scary? Like a butterfly. What paints a prettier picture in your head than a little, blond-haired, blue-eyed cherub, running through a country field, her cocker-spaniel running out in front of her. She pauses. A little butterfly floats toward her and lands on her out-stretched hand.
What could be more serene and wonderful? Now imagine that instead of one butterfly, the little girl wanders into a field where about a million monarch butterflies on there way to California have stopped for a little siesta. Imagine their surprise when this girl and her mutt intrude into their field. What do you think they'do. Defend themselves? Swarm? Whatever it is that a swarm of butterflies does when they feel threatened is, I'm sure it's not pretty. So the girl runs. They dog is confused. A million pairs of wings flutter in the air. The dog barks. The girl continues to run, trampling countless hordes of butterflies as she goes. Suddenly, she stumbles. The carcasses of the butterflies on her shoes has turned into a gooey, orange and black mess, causing her to slide and fall and hit her head on a rock, rendering her unconscious. The dog, by now panicked and crazed, licks at the unconscious girl in attempt to revive her. But all he that he succeeds in doing is spreading the butterfly paste that has accumulated around his mouth onto the little girl's face. Unable to revive the girl, the dog succumbs and lies down next to the girl. With order restored, the butterflies return to their rest, with some resting on the girl and her canine companion. I mean, it's not like they're gonna eat her or anything. The most they'd probably do is sniff product treated hair that kinda smells like honey. But the point is, take one butterfly, times 10 to the 6th, and serene, innocent joy, turns into unrelenting terror.
What about so called "beauty marks" like that thing on Cindy Crawford's face? I mean, it's like her trademark. But what if she had like 27 of 'em? Actually, it isn't just a large number that makes things frightening. Just getting really close can have the same effect. Take the butterflies, for example. When it comes down to it, they're just really ugly, creepy bugs that happen to have colorful wings. I mean, moths aren't seen as pretty are they? That's because they're, like, grey, and maybe yellow and brown if they're lucky.
People say that beautiful things are often very fragile. I say beauty itself is very fragile. If you don't leave well-enough alone, you could pay the price. Like once when I saw about 4 or 5, I was out in the backyard looking at fireflies. I thought they were the greatest thing ever. Bugs that lit up? Hah! I remembered my next door neighbor mike had shown me some firefly's in a jar. I thought that was a great idea. I figured that I could use a jar of fireflies as an inexhaustable source of light. Hell, it worked for the smurfs. So I had my dad punch holes in the lid of a baby-food container, and I went on my merry way. After about 4 or 5 minutes, I had a pretty good number of fireflies. More than 20 at least. So I think I'm doing great. But something's not quite right. It's about then that I look down, and covering my hands is what appears to be a black glove. Apparently good ol' dad had punched holes in the lid not only big enough for air to enter, but for the bugs to exit. It was a horrific sight for a young boy to have to endure. Nature at it's very ugliest. I scream, flail my arms widely, and proceed to run inside, shaking the glove of fireflies loose as I go. Just thinking about my hand crawling with bugs right now makes my skin crawl. I haven't touched another one to this day. Stupid bugs! I MAKE YOU GO SQUISH NOW!!!
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