I personally think it was no mistake that Scrooge included the word, “bug” in his snarl about the seasonal generosity that so annoyed him in the beginning of Charles Dickens’, “A Christmas Carol.” Because, what are bugs if not annoying? “Humbug.”
I learned from a television documentary that insects are two-thirds of the species on the planet. Google confirms it as 40% of all known living species or ten to thirty million species of insects inhabiting the planet. Holy-moly, she exclaimed.
It was in the seventeenth century that the word “bug,” began to be used to describe insects. Bugs, then were specifically the bed bug, which quietly fed on people at night. Bugs, as night-time terrors originated with the 1535 Bible known as the “Bug Bible” in which Psalm 91:5 read, “Thou shall not need to be afrayed for eny bugges by night.” The word, bug, was replaced by the word terror, in later Bible translations.
Bug season has commenced in these parts and I’m not a fan. Bugs like to bite me. There must be some sort of invisible extraterrestrial-type of beacon on the surface of my skin that screams to those millions of bug species’, “come and get it, here!”
At least honeybees have the courtesy to die after they’ve stung you. Not so much the mosquito or spider. They just keep feasting until they’re made dead by some such person as me.
Carpenter bees just hum you to distraction when they can’t get through impenetrable aluminum gutters or vinyl covered soffits, etc. Tell me you haven’t witnessed a bug-driven simpleton, like me, swatting at Carpenter bees with a tennis or badminton racket? But insects are persistent little “buggers.” I think maybe that’s a bad word in Britain.
Gnats seem to fancy my eyes and I’ve had them try to fly up my nose. And they also seem to relish making a fool out of humans who walk outdoors especially in the woods, or around ponds, lakes, or swampy places. We jump and twitch and perform hilarious antics with our arms to recirculate them away from our faces and upper bodies.
Don’t you feel sorry for cows and horses when it’s bug season? They cope with these creatures that bug them so incessantly, by flailing their nice long tails about and blinking those big, lovely eyes.
An entomologist is an insect specialist. A similar word, etymologist, is one who studies words, their origins, history and evolution. So, I see the former as a defender of all things bug and the latter is me, curious about all things connected with the word, bug.
You’ve heard the saying, “put a bug in your ear,” referring to someone planting a suggestion into your mind, that you can’t shake off? But I’m wondering, have you ever had a bug in your ear? It’s life altering, not in a good way.
In mechanical engineering, a bug has been identified as a glitch in the system since the early nineteenth century. A literal bug, a moth, was stuck on an electromechanical computer prototype in 1946 and ever since then, a glitch in your computer system is called a bug.
I’m familiar with spies or detectives bugging folks’ cars or houses, or offices, because I watch a lot of mysteries and crime dramas on television. How dare they bug your secrets? What buggers! There I go, using bad words again; at least it’s not four-letters.
Has something been bugging you? If you’re in a snipey mood and criticize something or someone, there’s always somebody like my husband, or myself on certain occasions, who defends them and it really bugs you because you’re already in that mood. Annoying.
This made me wonder if anybody really likes bugs. I figure Entomologists have to like them a little, since it’s their life-work to engage with them, deeply. But when they get bitten, tasted for lunch, or stung and swelled up….
I figured, like with everything else, someone would be a defender of bugs if someone such as me criticizes them. Defense attorneys are always considered dastardly in cop shows. Someone is always “PO’d” after all.
Bugs just keep at it, don’t they? They won’t let you be, be, get it, bee? How loud must I say it for you to get a pun?
I will play defense attorney for the honeybee, because of course they are honeybees. My husband raises them and has been stung hundreds of times and he usually just brushes them off and moves on. I have been stung probably a half dozen times and as usual, I react much differently – much like my poison ivy reaction – badly!
There are probably defenders amongst us of the yellow jacket, the wasp, the gnat, ants, carpenter bees and even the spider and mosquito.
It’s buggy outside, and I don’t mean there’s a parade of Amish or Mennonites in town, or a troop of babies going for a ride down the sidewalk or in the park. An image of myself as a youngster popped into my head. I pushed doll babies around in an ancient blue and yellow stroller or pram, known as a baby buggy, back when. I also had a blue wicker baby doll buggy that has been hushed into a corner in our attic.
Don’t judge me if you see me wearing long sleeves and long pants this summer. It’s because of bugs. And if you hear this human walking around muttering, “humbug,” you’ll know that I’m probably dealing with some swollen, itchy, mass, someplace on my body and I’m having a hard time getting rid of it. And it’s bugging me!