Enemy Ants

We were here first, this is our garden and we wont stop this until they go back to the other side of the fence. I heard one of the other ants in the nest saying that there’s an even bigger colony on the far side of the neighbours garden. But I fail to see why that should be our problem. There are only so many pieces of fallen fruit and scraps dropped on the ground. I can tell you now that if they even think of trying to send their ants into the house to collect food there will be a massive battle. Our queen has been presiding over a colony that’s occupied that house since before the current humans moved in.

The word is that the far colony is trying to muscle the enemy out of their house. So I don’t see how we could lose the battle if they did try to invade further. They can’t fight a war that big on two fronts. The skirmishes they’ve instigated over here have been small so far. They sneak across and try to get to a dead sparrow before us. Or steal the crumbs after the humans have had a barbeque. But trying to get into the house, that would be an all out declaration of war. I don’t think they’d try, or if they do it would only be because they don’t understand just how extensive our supply lines are, just what we have running in and out of that place. There are workers going in and back all around the clock, every single day of the week. We own that place, they wouldn’t dare.

If there was a war I’m sure we’d win. I don’t think their colony is as big as ours, so not every ant would have to go to war. I don’t think so anyway. I’ve got a lot of work to do and I don’t want to get behind. I figure that if there is a war, the scouts will be exempt from fighting. Surely it’ll be more important than ever to go out and find new sources of food. But then again, we are the fittest and the fastest. But it wont matter, I’m sure they’ll never try anything that bold.

So today I was out scouring the area around the back door, the humans often drop things around there. While I was looking around I thought I saw a strange ant near the cracked paint under the doorframe. I went closer and saw that some of the enemy ants were poking around. Things got ugly, there was maybe nine or ten of them. It got violent and I killed three of them. After the first little scuffle the others fled, I was kind of glad they did. I don’t think they realised that I was on my own because between them all they could have easily overpowered me. Although they all looked hungry, they were skinny and a bit weak.

But the thing that worried me most wasn’t fear that I could’ve been killed. That didn’t kick in until later. No the thing that shook me the most was where they went. They didn’t head back towards the enemy colony, their trail took them in the other direction. Towards number ten. Why would ants from the colony at number ten come here? We’ve had a truce with their colony for years. The only reason I can think of scares me. What if they’re under attack as well? How bad must it be if they’re sneaking around over here? I don’t want to admit it to myself but I think all of the colonies must be under pressure. I don’t know how we can fight off everyone and still get enough food out of the house to feed ourselves. A battle over one fence is bad enough, let alone battles on both sides. 

The Enemy

They keep pouring in. It’s a constant stream, their infantry seems to be endless. But the weird thing about them is that they all look the same. They’ve all got the same way of moving, all the same size and it’s like the all think the same. We’ve captured one or two of them before and they didn’t seem to have any kind of personality at all. They didn’t make any noise, they just mindlessly and without any kind of thought, struggled to escape until they didn’t have any struggle left in them. That’s the thing that makes me scared of them now, the apparent lack of personality. It’s like they’re just cardboard cut outs of each other, you kill one and there’s another one just like it coming to take its place. It’s a never ending battle.

Chemical warfare has been the most effective so far. I don’t really know how I feel about it, but it’s much better than the alternative. If we weren’t poisoning them they would take over, they’d overrun this place in no time, there just seems to be an endless supply of them that I don’t doubt that left alone they could take over.

I sure don’t want to be like them. Living under a feudal system where everything in life revolves around their queen. I don’t know that much about them but from what I do know it doesn’t sound like an organisational structure that values difference or creativity or anything other than working, workers working hard for their queen.

And when we’re not at war with them, work seems to be all that they’re about. From what I can tell their life involves a lot of heavy lifting and a lot of marching, leaving little time for much else.

On top of that, and I think it goes without saying, they’re dirty. No one likes to have them around. As much as I don’t like the idea of killing there isn’t an alternative. If they stayed away I wouldn’t have a problem with them, but they continue to invade and I’m left with no choice but to kill the filthy things and keep them at bay for as long as it takes for them to realise that there’s no place for them here. We don’t want them, nobody does. I’m not someone that hates, but I hate those ants and I just want them out of my house. 

How'd I Get Here

I don’t really know how I got here. I was just hanging out in the bush and enjoying a warm sunny morning. All of a sudden I felt like I was being grabbed, then all I could see was the inside of a sack. I was abducted, stolen, kidnapped. A person carried me away from the hillside, I don’t know who, or anything about them, as I didn’t get a chance to really see them before everything went dark.

They walked for quite some time from what I could gather. I don’t know what direction, it’s so disorientating when you can’t see. But when the journey finally finished I was dumped in with many others. There must have been thousands of us. None of us had any way of telling where we were. Or more importantly where we might be going.

As it turned out we were in for a long trip. I simply cannot fathom how far we must have travelled in the weeks or even months that followed. Piled in tightly together we began to get very dehydrated. It was hot and uncomfortable but nothing about it prepared us for what was going to happen.

Eventually after the arduous confinement of out trip we were slowly separated and sent off in smaller groups. What turned out to be our final destination was at first a lot more pleasant. We were separated out cleaned and groomed. A more comfortable spacing between us it started to feel like the worst had passed. I didn’t want to fall in to a trap of compliancy though and when I saw an opportunity I took it. I managed to jump over the wall nearest to me and although the fall was quite severe I landed in a spot that was out of sight, to my surprise no one came looking for me. It seems that as a group we’re valuable but on our own we’re nothing. One of us gone missing doesn’t even seem to register.

Very soon I was glad that I’d taken my window to get out of there. What happened to the rest of them shakes me to think of. I didn’t know any of them, we just happened to be swept away together but I feel for them even more sharply knowing that it could easily have been me. They were cooked. They were roasted under intense heat until they turned a dark dark brown colour. Then, probably the worst of all, they were group up to a fine powder, hot water was forced through their remains and then people came and drank this liquid in some kind of sick morning ritual.

It disgusts me, I see this happening from under this bench where I fell. I’ve seen new batches come in, not knowing the fate that awaits them. Every day I see the people come in and enjoy the drinking of this carcass water. I don’t know how long I’ll last here, several times I’ve seen them sweeping for escapees. It happens in a kind of absent minded way that is only really thorough in the wide open spaces of the floor. In some ways I welcome being found. It would be a relief from the daily torment I see here. 

A Day in the Life of Kevin

The day starts early, he likes the quiet that you find first thing in the morning it helps him prepare for the day ahead. It’s still dark when the alarm goes off and it’s usually a struggle to get out of bed. But by the time he’s showered and brewing coffee he’s glad he made the effort. Given his status Kevin could choose to sleep in all morning, but that’s not his style. You don’t get to be the king without doing the hard work. Now he’s made it to the top he feels a duty to keep sharp; he’s not one to rest on his laurels.

After his coffee and a light breakfast he might skim the newspaper for a while. Then it’s time to get down to business, being the king does allow certain privileges and Kevin is lucky enough to have a dance floor right there in his castle. It’s downstairs right behind the entrance hall where he receives official guests and performs other duties incumbent on the king of the dance floor. He skips down the long curving marble staircase. The walk to the dancing room is a kind of warm up, it helps him to get into the groove so to speak. He loosens up as he makes that trip.

Once he’s in the dancing room he selects a few favorite tunes for his first dance of the day. Usually a playlist that lasts about two hours, although on some days he’ll cut it short. It’s important not to overdo it in the mornings you see. For the morning dance he’ll stick to music he’s familiar with and he’ll run through all of his favorite dance moves. This isn’t a session that’s for innovation or perseverance, this is more about holding on to the joy of dancing. The morning dance is just about fun.

After the morning session Kevin usually showers, it’s normally getting close to ten by the time he’s clean and refreshed. A snack on some fruit helps him keep his energy up. Kevin feels that a big part of maintaining his reign is the diet he tries to adhere to. Mostly fresh foods, a lot of fruit and vegetables and only a little meat. Plenty of water is important too, so he takes the opportunity of the mid morning break to rehydrate. Sometimes another coffee as well but he’s conscious on the dehydrating effects of caffeine so it depends on the intensity of session he’s just had.

Late morning is a busy time mentally for Kevin. He concentrates on research over this period, finding new music, watching online videos of other dancers and generally trying to keep up with the latest trends. Or spotting what is about to be a trend. To a point this is something of a self-fulfilling prophecy, if Kevin spots an emerging trend that he likes, it will inevitably blow up. Not necessarily because Kevin was particularly prescient, but it will become popular because it’s what the king has begun dancing to, or the new dance style he’s adopted. Of course not every trend in music and dance is attributable to Kevin, he takes no responsibility at all for dubstep, in fact he distances himself from it as much as possible.

After the morning of research it’s time for Kevin to take his lunch. This meal he usually has prepared for him, it’ll tend to be very salad centric with maybe some freshly baked bread as well. He’ll take his time over lunch, it’s an opportunity for him to relax and digest all of the research that he’s been doing in the late morning. The learning isn’t forced, he tries not to adopt things deliberately. It’s more of an osmosis by which these new trends and fresh ideas naturally make their way into his repertoire. He’ll sometimes read a book or do something else not related to dancing as his lunch settles, this is his pause in the day.

Once the meal and the fresh ideas have settled, Kevin heads back to the dancing room. This session starts with a long stretching session, not that Kevin gets particularly tight or sore. It’s more of a way to keep his body as tuned as he can and to keep in close connection with his body. This will be a much longer dance so he wants to be prepared. When he’s feeling limber he’ll ease his way into the day’s main dance. The playlist for this session will usually incorporate some newer music, things he’s found and listened to over the last few days. It’s a constant process of finding new things and trying them out. The dance innovations usually come from things he’s seen or improvised, added to some new music or a different setting.

In some of these sessions he’ll invite other people to his dance floor. While he often likes to work alone, particularly if he’s working on a new move or style, it’s important to keep his skills tuned in the context of a crowded dance floor. It isn’t difficult to fill the floor when he requires it. Who wouldn’t want to dance with the king on his own private dance floor, right here at Boogie Castle.

The main dance session of the day can sometimes roll on for hours, especially on the days when Kevin isn’t alone. The dance floor takes on a life of it’s own and Kevin is just the vehicle for the music and movement to travel through. It all depends on the day, the magic isn’t always there but if it isn’t, Kevin will persevere for as long as possible. He can’t force the magic but he can force practice. And practice is the only way he can keep raising the bar and pushing the level of dance across the kingdom.

Once the time comes that Kevin feels he’s done his dancing for the day he’ll thank any guests that might’ve been there. Have a debrief with his royal DJ, maybe asking him to flag particular tunes that he enjoyed or point out any that aren’t working and take them off future playlists. He’ll keep drinking water to rehydrate again, this is normally the hottest sweatiest session of the day and he knows the importance of recovery.

Another shower before he heads to the main dining hall for his dinner. Over the last few hours Kevin will have worked up quite and appetite so dinner will be a large meal. This is sometimes a time when the king will entertain guests, although with his flexible afternoon schedule there can be notoriously long waits for his guest to be received. On the occasions where he is entertaining, Kevin will have some wine with his guests. He tries to keep the alcohol to a minimum on normal working days. It’s a different story of course when it gets to the weekend. After an official dance session on a Saturday night, Kevin will open the champagne and enjoy a few drinks with his friends. On these nights he’ll socialise and talk with friends and subjects long into the night. But on most days it’s a quiet affair in the castle. After dinner he’ll retire to his bedroom, maybe watch a movie or read for a while. But he never stays awake for too long. He’s already thinking about waking up tomorrow and starting again.

He loves the dance and he loves the process of perfecting and progressing it and working on it every day. Tomorrow is always another day to work on his dancing and to discover more music to dance to. Even if he’s tired when he wakes up, or if he isn’t inspired when he starts to dance. Kevin has come to understand that he has to dance regardless. 

Weather

You know how sometimes the weather just doesn’t seem right? Those summer day’s where you need to put on a sweatshirt? Or the middle of winter and it’s not just sunny but too hot to be wearing jeans? Well I found out how that happens, I can’t tell you how I found out but I can tell you a little bit about what goes wrong on those days.

See, there’s this room, I don’t know where exactly it is but I got the feeling it was under a mountain or something, underground somewhere anyway. It doesn’t have any windows and there are a lot of long corridors and doors to pass through before you get there. But when you do, you open that last door and walk into this room. It’s a control room, to be honest it looks a lot like the kind of room you’d see in a movie about space shuttles or something. Only the technology seems to be a lot more advanced in this room than it was in the 1960s.

I think you’ve probably already worked out that this room is where they control the weather. I know, you all thought it was a natural phenomenon and couldn’t be controlled, you don’t really believe me at this point. But that’s ok, I’ll tell you anyway, I don’t have any interest in whether you believe me or not.

In this room there are two people working, the weather wardens as they are known. It’s a job with a lot of responsibility but not much training is really needed. The people who maintain the machines and update the software in the control room, they’re the rock stars of this outfit. The wardens fall more into the semi-skilled labor category. Usually, at least that’s what I’m told, one of the wardens will control the cloud and precipitation related systems and the other will control the wind system. The wind warden is usually the more senior of the wardens on shift, it’s a critical system and very hard control on a large scale. I know what you’re thinking “ahh, that explains cyclones and hurricanes and all of that” No, those are done on purpose, I cant go into why but when you see one of those you can be sure that the very best wardens are on duty that day.

Which brings me to the cause of those rogue weather events. Obviously there’s weather all of the time, it’s a twenty-four seven operation as they say. So the wardens are on a shift system, its usually four days on and two days off with the day, night and swing shits changing every two weeks. The thing with being a warden is that it isn’t especially well paid. They do get good money but most of that is hush money, this is the kind of information that can’t get into the public arena for a whole host of reasons. No as far as the pay scale at the weather control centre goes, the wardens are right on the bottom. So the big problem is motivation and absenteeism and this is where those rouge events come in. As I mentioned before, the wind is the most critical part, there’s a lot of power to be controlled. Think of driving a formula one car, now imagine that Michael Schumacher can’t make it in to the office today. Now also imagine that the other race car drivers are lowly paid and don’t want to come into the track today just because Michael is feeling off colour, it’s their day off and they’ve just come off two weeks of night races et cetera et cetera.

So, to stretch the metaphor further than even I thought possible, now you have your head mechanic trying to change the sparkplugs on the Ferrari and steer the thing at the same time. You see, the biggest problem that the world faces from a weather point of view is that of shift work scheduling. As I mentioned before, I don’t care if you believe me or not. I just thought I’d explain it to you and let you make your mind up. Whether you do believe me or not doesn’t matter, but what does matter very much is that you never mention this to anyone. This little secret has to go with you to your grave, it’s a very serious business this weather thing. 

Jonny

It’s probably quite odd that my best friend should be a caterpillar but he’s such a great guy. He’s one of those little stick looking things. Camouflaged in the pine trees and small enough that no one would really notice him if he wasn’t. Jonny, he’s called. Odd name for a caterpillar I first thought, but then again what would you consider a normal caterpillar type name.

Jonny moves in a way that reminds me more of a cartoon version of a caterpillar than anything you’d expect to see in real life. He scrunches himself up into a horseshoe shape then flattens out again. To be honest I don’t think I really understand the mechanics of it at all. He lifts his front end up to have a look around and just holds himself there. He must do a lot of core work at the gym; Jonny is a strong little guy.

I often wonder what will happen to Jonny, they turn into moths or butterflies or something don’t they? But I don’t know what sort of thing he’ll turn into. I think it’ll be fun when he can fly, I won’t need to come and visit him here on this tree trunk. He’ll be able to come with me. I wonder how fast he’ll be able to fly.

I get hassled a lot for being friends with Jonny, but I don’t think it’s weird. We get on so well and who cares about what other people think. There aren’t any rules about friendship, there’s no guidebook, and there are no laws that I’m aware of. I think a sparrow and a caterpillar can be friends if they want to.