| Issue No.2, Vol.1


Experts

by John Urbancik
 

 

 

              There’s something I should’ve already gotten out of the way, so I’m here now to rectify that mistake.  Ready?  It’s a revelation of sorts, and may leave you shell-shocked or gob-smacked or absolutely flabbergasted.  Or, you may turn around and say, “But John, it’s so obvious.”  What I’m about to say may not come as a big surprise.  Ready?  I’m not an expert on spiders.

              See, experts are people who really know their stuff.  An arachnologist (yes, a particular scientist who studies arachnids) is an expert.   Zoologists.  College biology professors with tarantulas in a fish tank.  They have letters after their names, or are always introduced with pronouncements like, “leading spider authority.”  Perhaps they started studying biology or animal behavior, or they had a strange dream after reading three years worth of Spider-Man comics in a night.  Or they started life with so severe a case of arachnophobia, they felt there was no better way to confront and overcome their fear.

              Thing is, while I may have done well in biology during high school, and I read Spider-Man as a child (and watch the movies today), I’ve never suffered from arachnophobia (though walking into my home office the other night to find another of those larger-than-fists huntsman spiders crawling across the ceiling probably edges me closer every time).  Sure, I admit I have a fascination, especially since moving to Australia.  This is fueled by all the documentaries highlighting this continent’s extraordinarily dangerous wildlife: snakes, sharks, crocodiles, box jellies, and spiders are often shown devouring some poor innocent creature.  Why, just this afternoon, an Australian magpie swooped out of the sky, crashed into my window, and finally landed on the fence outside with a freshly killed locust in its beak.

              Does fascination make me an expert?  No.

              I’m a fairly decent researcher.  I can find all sorts of information about spiders.  I’ve got books.  I have a camera.  I walk through the Royal Botanic Gardens and sea Golden Orb Spiders everywhere.  Funnel-webs live under plant-less pots in my garden.  I’ve filmed spiders feeding and watched them wandering on my ceiling, I’ve seen them spin webs, I once even found one in the side mirror of my car whilst living in Florida.  And yes, even a little guy suddenly dropping out of the visor on a thread while I’m doing 70 on the interstate is not exactly the most calming of experiences.

              I’ve done enough research to know not to panic when bitten, to seek medical attention immediately and not drink anything.  I also know the needles used to deliver anti-venoms are as intimidating as the ones they used to threaten us with if we ever got rabies.  I know about ancient spiders and Trapdoor Spiders, and that Mouse Spiders are in fact quite dangerous despite their name (the Red-headed Mouse Spider being the most dangerous of all).  The Nursery-web Spider can run across the surface of water and dive.  Their primary sense is touch.  Tasmanian Cave Spiders, unlike most cave dwellers (and unlike most spiders) have well-developed and functioning eyes.

              And I know that spiders have a healthy fear of wasps.

              I’ve read about John Hall, a naturalist and satirist who invented thirteen constellations, including a spider (though this may have been intended as a joke and never caught on), despite that the Arachnida class is already represented by Scorpius.

              I know Fiddle-back Spiders do not play the fiddle, but Jumping Spiders do jump, and have such well-developed eyesight that if you stare at one on your wall, it will stare right back at you.

              All these things come from research, not from some level of expertise.  Ask me questions, I find answers; an expert, however, simply answers.  Notice the difference?

              Good.

              So, that straightened out, what exactly am I doing here?  Hopefully, learning something--and perhaps you’ll learn with me.  I’ll look under a particular stone every month and uncover things we didn’t know.  I’ll find out how and why and where.  I’ll continue taking pictures of the spiders infiltrating my home.  I’ll visit the museum again, and open my books, and Google my heart out.

              So, now you know I’m no spider expert, but you also know I’ll dig until I get my story.  Perhaps there’s something you really want to know--like, what kind of spider catches birds in its web, or was Charlotte based on a true story, or do we really swallow eight spiders every year in our sleep?  Go on, then.  Ask.  I’ll answer--just not off the top of my head.

              (Oh, and I’ll give on the spider swallowing: it was a statistic, invented by Lisa Holst for a column in PC Professional in 1993, as an example of a ridiculous fact that, if repeated often enough on the Internet, would be accepted as an actual fact.)

 

<<Serial Spiders

 

Born in New York, and having spent some time in Florida, John Urbancik is now in Sydney, Australia.  His first novel was Sins of Blood and Stone, now out of print though Shocklines and Amazon may still have copies.  Most recently, he was featured in Delirium's New Dark Voices--also sold out from the publisher, also still available in some places .  There is an unconfirmed rumor that his novella Wings of the Butterfly will come out in late 2006.  You can find a lot of his photography at www.darkfluidity.com.

 


" Poets are the hierophants of an unapprehended inspiration; the mirrors of the gigantic shadows which futurity casts upon the present."


—Percy Bysshe Shelley

     A Defense of Poetry

 
       

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