Tuesday, May 19, 2009

In which I behead a bee and subsequently feel guilt

On Saturday I was at my sister’s house when a bee got in and started making ruckus.  It was doing bee things: flying, buzzing, etc., and I was doing human things: looking at bees, thinking about bees, and talking to my sister about bees.

Someone remarked that I should dispatch the bee in some way, and I agreed. (I think that I am the one who remarked this, so it is no wonder that I was in compete agreement).  My sister was against the idea because she practices ahimsa.  I try to practice this too, but if you ask me there is a reason why they call it practice: it is something you have to consciously work at for a few hours a day in order to get really good.

Anyway, I also have a strong Warrior Spirit, so instead of practicing ahimsa, I decided to take a pair of scissors and cautiously Enter into Combat with the bee. It was on the window crawling around and was not aware of my silent approach.  After a few warm-up snips, I took aim and snipped at the bee with the scissors.

To my shock, my attack completely lobbed off the bee’s head, and it fell onto the window sill like a tiny pebble!  Whoa!

Meanwhile, to my utter dismay, the bee’s body continued about its business as if Nothing had Happened.  What the!?

I stared at the bee for some time in disbelief.  Was this Science?  Is this what Scientists did?  I could not be sure.  I called Panos over to have a look because Panos is a scientist.

“Look!” I told him, and he looked, and sure enough the bee body was just wandering around the window like he was a regular bee, potentially unaware that his tiny brain was laying several inches below him.

“Kill it, man.” Panos said.  He has good sense. I suddenly felt an overwhelming Sense of Guilt regarding my unprovoked attack on the bee.  “Kill it, man,” said Panos.

As I stood looking at the headless bee, I felt the urge to practice ahimsa, because it did not seem right to murder a bee with no head.  This was a Dilemma, becasue the more I thought about it, the more I realized that the damage was done.  I had to mash him.  I will say that in the end the mashing brought me no pleasure and that I still feel guilt over my actions. 

On the other hand, I am a mighty hunter and if a bee ever threatens someone I love I will not hesitate to behead him or her (the bee, not the loved one).

I can also say that this is why Hindus set up a caste system, I think. In the caste system there are ksatriyas, who are bee-beheaders and there are brahmins, who practice ahimsa.  Then there are shudras, who make the scissors, and the dalits, who clean up after the mashing.  It all makes sense in that system, and no one has to have a Crisis of Guilt like I had.

This story reminded me of a similar story in which “Mike the Chicken” becomes “Mike the Headless Chicken.”

It is worth looking into.

Update!  A poem regarding my situation:

Therefore doth heaven divide

  The state of man in divers functions,

  Setting endeavor in continual motion,

  To which is fixèd as an aim or butt

  Obedience; for so work the honeybees,

  Creatures that by a rule in nature teach

  The act of order to a peopled kingdom.

  They have a king and officers of sorts,

  Where some like magistrates correct at home,

  Others like merchants venture trade abroad,

  Others like soldiers armèd in their stings

  Make boot upon the summer’s velvet buds,

  Which pillage they with merry march bring home

  To the tent royal of their emperor,

  Who, busied in his majesty, surveys

  The singing masons building roofs of gold,

  The civil citizens kneading up the honey,

  The poor mechanic porters crowding in

  Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate,

  The sad‑eyed justice with his surly hum

  Delivering o’er to executors pale

  The lazy yawning drone.



  courtesy of rosconotorigina.  Thanks.