How Do I Free the Hornet?

Taking a break from our incisive political and cultural commentary for a moment, I've been troubled all morning by a moral and pragmatic problem, as outlined after the jump in the emails below to my friend. Any suggestions?



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Mr. X wrote:

[something about trying to end a very self-destructive relationship]
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On 4/12/06 12:42 PM, solomon grundy wrote:

This morning I was woken up by the unexpectedly loud buzz of a giant hairy hornet frantically bumping against my window trying to get outside. I don't know how he got into my room, since the window was closed. It must have seemed so pretty and inviting that he wriggled in through a crack. But then he couldn't get out, even though he was sure to die here.

You are that giant hairy hornet.

I opened the window and set him free. And now he's living happily in hornetland with his giant hairy hornet lover, Alejandro, who is his intellectual and moral equal.

Ok, not really. I actually screamed like a piglet and trapped him in between my main window and the storm window, where he'll continue buzzing and colliding back and forth trying to escape until he dies. But I SHOULD have opened the window. I was just afraid of his sting.
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Mr. X wrote:

Did he die?
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solomon grundy wrote:

No, I was watching him as I was writing that.

It's actually been stressing me out all morning. I've been blasting music to drown out the sounds of his buzzing and collisions. I want to open the storm window but I'm afraid that if I do he'll immediately sting me and I'll turn out to be allergic to giant hairy hornet stings or something (I've never been stung, so who knows).

The metaphor is now officially dead, and I'm just wondering how to free this stupid hornet.

It's just like when I lived with Iggy and a baby mouse attacked me so I screamed and trapped it with the nearest object, which was a wine glass. I ran out of the room and didn't come back until a day later, by which point the baby mouse had suffocated and was caught frozen in the most unimaginably horrifying death howl, its mouth open (screaming for its mother?), its claws clenched trying to scratch free. It was like Hiroshima, but crueler.I screamed again and made Iggy dispose of it. The image will haunt me to my grave and beyond. When I'm in hell I will be trapped under some ugly giant's upturned wine glass.
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Mr. X wrote:

Oh god. I too have such terrible war images of rodents in my head. What have we done? Yours is particularly cruel I agree. But what to do. The only thing I think you can do is try to save this hornet out of restitution for past animal sins. And because you have just compared me to the hornet. Save us. Don’t let us die between two pieces of glass. We want to live.



Tags: culture, ethics, biology, hornets, gay