There was an old lady, who swallowed…
a fly!
Almost. I just spotted it in time, floating around in my cup of tea. Previously I have considered flies to be rather unintelligent, but I think I’m going to have to reconsider.
The (ex)fly in question was in the middle of a desert, 8645 and a bit feet above sea level. He (all flies are male, a well known fact) was the first fly I’ve seen in 6 months of working here. There’s not exactly an abundance of typical fly attractions in Paranal. We’re rather short on dung, rotten food or anything green with rotting potential. What possessed the little fellow to come all the way up here? Where did he come from? And then why, when he had the whole desert to buzz around, did he choose to land in my tea?
It was a good cup of tea, and the only one on the mountain (my european colleagues drink solid expressos, bless them). It was a million-billion to one chance. Trust me, I’m a scientist.
The question is, was this just an incredible co-incidence, or did he deliberately seek out the only cup of tea within 100 miles? Did he spend his little fly life seeking out the perfect scent, using finely tuned tea-sensors, before finally ending it all by diving headlong into my cuppa? Why?
Luckily I had almost finished it, so it wasn’t the end of the world. For me at least…
May 27th, 2006 at 6:27 pm
Rather appropriate verse for the day, I thought, after reading this story…
“ For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. ”
But it didn’t work for this fly’s life in this world. Maybe one day we’ll meet him in heaven?
What do you think Anna? After your bug commentaries, I reckon you’re qualified to comment on the state of this fly’s salvation…
May 28th, 2006 at 6:11 pm
The fly was brave enough to risk a night on its own in the desert whereas Joy was not brave enough to endure a third night at 1000 feet up at the top of the hill in Shropshire!
Dad reckons the fly came up in a tea bag and James who is with us this weekend said it came in a car (not driving it you understand!) Call yourself a scientist!! Huh!
Dad played cricket with all the older gentlemen and stunned them all with his skills bowling 3 wickets
Had a nice BBQ in the garden but it was quite cold, James played us lots of different music on his guitar.
We are all very proud of you running a multi-million pound telescope in a foreign land - good on you girl.
Love from us all, have a bit of a break. D , M James and Joy
May 30th, 2006 at 6:21 am
The fly stood condemned already because of its evil behaviour. The consumption of dung aside, it met its judge, red-proboscised, while thieving tea. It had also been living in sin with other male flies some of whom had clearly exchanged their true gender for another, thus confounding the wickedness. The evident disorientation of the fly, in landing in the tea on not upon the inside of its container at a sensible distance from the lethal substance, also shows clear signs of intoxication. I could go on…
I do not see the fruit of repentance in the life, nor the sticky end of the fly, though I know not whether it had called upon the one name under heaven by which it could be saved, which would have been quite understandable at the sight of Rachel’s open mouth looming over it.
The answer to the question of its salvation, like every other question of philosophy or theology, remains in part elusive to the grasp of our finite faculties. Just as flies invariably remain elusive to those who try to swatt them. Even the fly with its modest intellect, had it been a fly of faith, would have been working out its salvation with fear and buzzing on such an occasion which would inspire fear and doubt in the heart of even its fierce brother, the wasp. However, we can learn some timely lessons from this tragic event, the most important being that you must not throw your tea before flies!
May 30th, 2006 at 9:20 am
My writing “on” instead of “and” in the above, shows clear signs of intoxication on my part. I will refrain however from digging deeper by pleading my innocence. ;-o
May 31st, 2006 at 5:47 am
Poor wee fly. Maybe it was just lonely as the only fly on the mountain and committed suicide! - in your lovely tea of course.
May 31st, 2006 at 2:25 pm
Help!!! I was feeling quite sorry for that poor fly….but having read all the above comments, I just feel confused! Are you all awfully intelligent - or just mad? Hmmmm….. !?
June 1st, 2006 at 10:38 am
JUST MAD
I do repent of my previous heartlessness with regard to the fly. It must be frightfully hard to hang around all that time in the desert only to wind up meeting astrophysicists and an untimely death in a brown runny substance that once was the mirage of Loch Lomond. I think Douglas you may have a point, loneliness and flies are a most unhappy combination. Loneliness and a large bar of Green and blacks is quite another kettle of fish. I have not indulged in the aforementioned luxury for some time (and I don’t mean the the kettle of fish-yuk!), thus, I am of reduced diameter and now slip as gleefully between tesco trolleys as i do through ciberspace. Off to meet a missionary then on to knock Sophie&co about with a frisbee in The Meadows…see ya ;-0
June 4th, 2006 at 7:44 pm
Flee fly flow flog
I smell the blood of an English broad
Be she alive or be she dead
I’ll grind my bones
and make her blog
June 11th, 2006 at 6:38 pm
I think this story was written by a bitter woman married to a scotsman! The fly wanted just one gulp of a fantastic cuppa and no more.
It sounds a bit like the one about the englishman, irishman and the scotsman in a bar. Each is about to start their pint when a fly lands in each of their pints.
The englishman pushes his beer away in dusgust. The Irishman fishes the fly out of his beer and continues on drinking. The scotsman picks the fly out of his drink and starts shaking it by one leg. “Spit it oot ya wee theivin’ bastard! Spit it oot!”.