Crane flies, which appear to be insane spiders with wings, are the Drunken Aviators of the insect world. Not only is their flying comically erratic, it's a miracle they have not yet gone extinct simply due to their inherent unfettered stupidity. Case in point: tonight while davening Ma'ariv, a crane fly landed on my knee during Shmona Esrei--just buzzed right in and touched down. All through the shuckling, bowing and stepping, it remained serenely undisturbed. When I was done, I commenced attempting to swat it. After having missed on the first two tries (during which it remained on my knee as though glued there), I finally connecting on the third go-around. Without it having been even a particularly strong swat, that dumb ol' crane fly fell down on the floor, dead as the proverbial doornail; at least now its physical state matched its mental state. Unless this crane fly was merely a spectacularly stupid specimen (which is quite possible), this seems to disprove Darwin's theory about the Survival of the Fittest.

TODAY'S BOOK: "Seabiscuit: An American Legend", by Laura Hillenbrand ((c) 2001)

Labels: biographical