Spider Web Talk

It is a scientific fact that when insects get caught in the spider's web, they do not expire (I try not to use the words "die" or get "killed") immediately.  They struggle for quite a bit, which gets them into more trouble. Web entanglement is bound to increase.  The spider detects the commotion more readily. The best strategy for the hapless prey is to keep still and not move at all, if the aim is to not alert the spider.  For sure, the poor insect will live a little bit longer but its fate is sealed. 

Then, entomologists (those who first matriculated in medical schools then switched majors when the sight of blood became  psychologically discouraging at continuing with a medical career and to their great astonishment, these young students realized insects don't shed blood, so they went on to become entomologists) found out through meticulous observation with the aid of highly sophisticated recording devices that they can eavesdrop on what was going on, in terms of what exchanges occurred between prey and predator within the confines of a web.  By the way, you just read one of the longest number of words within a parenthesis ever written in the annals of English literature.

Here is a recording of  conversations on the spider web.  By the way,  long before the world wide web, so much conversation had really gone on the spider web that goes back some 380 million years ago, long before the dinosaurs bi-pedaled their way into a 160 million year domination of all living things on this earth.

Transcripts of these recordings are archived in some undisclosed location. I just happen to have access to a few of them.

Darwin's bark spider (Caerostris Darwinic) is an orb-weaver spider that produces the largest known orb webs, ranging from 900 to 28,000 square centimeters (140 to 4,340 sq in).  

CD (short for Caerostris Darwin) figured in a lot of these conversations.

Incident 1.  CD and the fly

CD: What have I got there?

Fly: Please. I made a mistake. But if you let me go I can lead others to come here. Fat ones too. You eat me and that's all you will get.  You see, as you begin to devour me, I would exude an abundant amount of anti-pheromones that will keep other flies away.

CD: You piqued my curiosity.  Indeed, you do. The word "devour" sounds awfully barbaric.  I seldom hear that. First of all, I and other species like me do not devour, if I understand what you meant. We are sophisticated diners, if you must know. We dine slowly and passionately.

Fly: Please let me go?

CD: Well, I might.  You're a fly.  I, for one, have always wanted to be a "fly on the wall", get that? So I can eavesdrop on human conversations. Tell me one good one and I might just let you go.

Fly: Once, I was on a wall of the apartment of one journalist.  He was talking on the phone. I assumed it was another journalist on the other line. He told the other person that he had come upon one crucial piece of information from a retired employee at the NSA.

CD: Wait! NSA, is it the same one I am thinking?

Fly: The very same on - National Security Agency - yes sir.

CD: Go on.

Fly: I can only hear one side of the conversation.  The reporter was telling the other that he had uncovered the truth about what really happened in Dallas on November 22, 1963.

CD: You mean ..

Fly: Yes. The reporter said he possessed documents to prove  that there was a second assassin involved in the shooting. There were two rifles with identical ballistics signatures ..

CD: Stop, stop! Since you can only hear one side, you obviously did not hear the laughter at the other end.  No, that story is preposterous. Tell me a better one.  You found me in a good mood, so you get another chance.

Fly: What about a  story from one of my great, great ancestors? 

CD: It had better be good.

Fly: One of my great, great ancestors was on the Berlin Wall.

CD: Oh my! But go on.

Fly:  He told this story about being on the Wall and he heard these two East Berlin guards talking.  One guard said, "Why are these people going over, and it goes only one way.  Everyone is escaping from our side but no one is sneaking in?"  The other guard said, "Shush. Keep your voice down". The first guard said, "No, really, why?"  The second guard asked, "What are you saying, telling me about this?" The first guard replied, "Why don't we go over ourselves?  I heard a lot of good stories. Great stories really, compared to what you and I get to tell our families and friends". The second guard replied, "Okay, we still have two hours before shift change. Do you have a handkerchief? Put it at the end of your rifle.  I'll do the same and let's go together". My great, great grandfather said that was the beginning of the toppling down of the wall".

CD: That is about as lame a story that I've ever heard. Well, I have my appetite back. I'm sorry but I need my snack now.

Fly: Wait, wait!

CD: You want me to believe that your great, great ancestor was in Berlin.  How did you get here?  How did your ancestors get here?  Rubbish!

Fly: How did the brown rat or the common Norway rat make it here? How did the fire ants from South America make the few-thousand-mile journey here?  How is it that the Komodo dragon made it to Indonesia from Australia?  By the way, Australians have not shown any gratitude for the Komodo dragon's decision to leave and settle where they are now.

CD: Nope, your stories have not convinced me to set you free.

Fly: Okay, I guess this one secret I know will die with me. Go ahead.  Devour me at will.

CD: What secret?

Fly: I will die with it. I am no longer scared.  It is a worthy sacrifice to save the other flies.  It's okay. 

CD: Okay, okay. Tell me this so-called secret and I will let you go.

Fly: You see those two praying mantises by that branch up there? They're hatching up a plan on a safe way to get you to be their next snack.

CD: Not only do I not believe you, they will not dare. Just like you, my web will be their doom.

Fly: Okay, you won't want to hear their plan.  I am ready. Go ahead. I don't care.

CD: What is their plan?

Fly: I accept my fate.  I will die anyway.  I will tell you if only for this reason. I hate those praying mantises more than I do you. 

CD: Why?

Fly: You wait patiently until one of my kind and many others make a mistake. They pay for that mistake. I am about to pay mine.  The praying mantis hunts us with the ferocity of a merciless predator. With you, we pay the price for our carelessness.

CD: Now, you're talking.  Go ahead, tell me their plan.

Fly: You are sitting at the center of your web, like being at the center of a bull's eye.  One mantis will fly below your web. Using just the tip of its one claw, it will pull down on the web and release it abruptly.  You will be catapulted like a stone into the air.  The other mantis will snatch you on the fly. That's one cruel way to use the common expression, "on the fly", got it?

CD: That is not funny but it is the first sensible thing you said.  Okay, I will appear to those brutes up there to move you to the edge of my web without letting on that I am moving away from the center of my  web to spoil their plan.  Keep still as I move you over.

Fly: You better hurry.  They're about to make a move.  I have better eyesight than you, so trust me.

CD: Okay, you're free to go.

Incident 2: Praying Mantis (PM) 1 and 2

PM1: I didn't know spiders taste so delicious.  I've never had one before.

PM2: What I want to know is what possessed it to move away from the center of its web. It must know that there is no way we can get to them if they remain at the center.

PM1: Yeah, not a single one of us dares to pluck them from the center of the web.  The risk is too high.  I still, for the life of me, don't understand why it moved to the edge by that one little twig.

PM2: Easy picking, I'll have to say.  By the way, why did it let the fly go? It's driving me bananas trying to understand that.

PM1: Yeah, I've never caught a fly. With their thousand eyes and ability to change direction, I don't even try to catch a fly on the fly. Get that? I thought I'd never get to use that expression.

PM2. Okay, we're done here.  I wish I can talk to that fly.

Just below under a leaf, the fly was listening to the two praying mantises as they ate and talked.   The entomologists concluded that the reason insects are the ultimate survivors is best exemplified by their abilities to adapt.  Humans will never be able to control them.  Ants and termites are great examples but let us not forget flies and mosquitoes. What about some of their weirdest methods of adaptation?  

The caterpillar, for example, has one of the wildest life cycles and eating habits. It will munch on leaves, gain weight, envelope itself in a cocoon, come out, sprout wings, fly and go on to change its diet into dining on nectar.  The mayfly will live for years, sometimes longer than a decade as an underwater predator.  Then one day, they will sprout wings, fly out of the water, find a mate, but live as aerial insets for just that one day and die.  But not before the females hatch their eggs by the water.  The cycle begins again. The larvae will live underwater as a predator.  How wild is that?

Insects. Should we get it past  their ability to talk among themselves?

I must refer the reader to the hyena for an answer when asked about the veracity of his story, who yelled back, "What is it you want?  A story or a debate?"