Ashes to Ashes, Moth to Moth

I'm not really sure how to contextualise this story. It is another tick in the 'for' column of my 'for or against thinking kids are evil' tally. As you'll be aware if you read this regularly, I work around children and so I am surprised that I am not handed more occasions to put a tick in said box. Saying that, I have just illuminated my own prejudice and bias, therefore outing this as an unreliable study.

The annoyances that come my way from children are generally of a low level; the volume of their conversation or the frenzied nature of their incessantly running around perhaps. Or maybe their ignorance, stupidity, lack of respect, stupid hair, high pitched voices, idiotic questions etc. I am about as child-friendly as a wall of sweets armed with child-seeking circular saws. But I make more of an effort, at least.

So when a situation comes around that genuinely informs my intolerant 'argh! children!' attitude, I am delighted. Although in this case, also shocked by the child's actions.

It is spring here in the fair land of Walisich, and this means that the weather lapses incoherently between nippy winds and rain to days where the we may all feel the soft palm of summer stroking down upon us. It is on the latter days whence the various buzzing nuisances descend upon us, managing even to make their inconvenient ways indoors, or more accurately, inwindows. So it came to pass that the Moth found his way into the cafe. Such an event, is it, that it will be hereafter remembered as the Great Mothcoming of '10. Or not.

It wasn't a particularly large moth, such as the corpulent terrors which sometimes breach indoors and lunge at your face, causing unparalleled fright. A moth mid face-swoop is a terror unmatched in all the time of Man. Nay, twere not such a creature. Twere but an injured lil moth, the sort of moth that would be amiably rendered in a pixar production, say in, The Adventures of Mothy McMoth; the Injured Moth. I clearly have no real knowledge of pixar. I didn't even capitalise the 'P'. Shame on me.

Unfortunately, this moth had the poor luck of landing near a demonchild. That is perhaps a bit strong, but I am taking creative licence. If hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, then hell hath no evil like a child bored. While most children, I imagine, would freak out and break into a psychedelic frenzied dance of disgust should a moth land on them (I still would), this child reacted with the composed nature of the Spanish inquisition.

I am unable to directly deal with the details of the event, so I have rendered the crux of this tale in verse.

*****
Sadism in Children

"I am unable to fly", quoth the moth.
For him, the wortht pothible lohth.
In the hands of a child about to serve hell up,
For his empathy is underdeveloped.

He put-th the moth in thome thquath,
Then drownth him in froth,
To show him who'th bohth.

There'd have been an experiment,
Had I not arrived;
Could a moth have survived,
Insertion into a CD-Rom drive?

*****

I've had a mixed reaction retelling this tale to people. All find the actual thought of a child holding a computer-based cd-tray moth-execution quite a disturbing and grim thing, though some are significantly more appalled. There was conjecture in a seminar about challenging behaviour, which I attended awhile back, where some posited that cruelty to animals is sometimes a precursor for more seriously harmful behaviour in the future. If this is founded with any accuracy then his neighbours should be concerned, for the uncaring coldness with which he undertook the grim preparation was unsettling.

We may in the future be searching frantically for a technologically-advanced futuristic Jigsaw character, who will be attempting to slice humans in half using a giant, purpose-built, cd-tray.
Luckily the child didn't mumble "Do you want to play a game?" as his hand hovered over the button which would retract the tray, so perhaps we'll be fine.

As the poem describes, I managed to stop him completing the garish procedure on Mothy Antoinette, but I was slightly boggled as to what I should have him do with the moth. Eventually I told him to put it out the window, having decided that putting him in the bin would be equally unethical, if lacking the I AM THE DEATHBRINGER feel of the cd-tray fate.

The child later asked to be allowed onto the computers, and I had to say "no". When he, inevitably, asked "Why?", I had the joy of replying; "because you tried to shut a moth in the cd drive".

Case closed.