Sarcasm with a side of optimism.

Butterflies.

There was a store called Mariposa in South Street Seaport a while ago that sold beautiful exotic framed butterflies. I've certainly never seen any of the ones they had on display fluttering about New York City. But New York isn't exactly the butterfly capital of the world either.

And while their wings were beautiful and intricate, reflecting the light with an eerie luminescence, the fact remains that we're talking about a bug in a box. And isn't it somewhat insane to pay upwards of $100 for a dead insect in a box?

Craig says that if you touch a butterflies wings, it won't be able to fly anymore. I wouldn't try to catch one anyway because I bet those suckers bite. If those bright striped wings don't scream stay-the-hell-away-from-me, I'm sure they've got venomous fangs for phase two. So I caught one with my camera instead:

He was actually quite large and moved very quickly. Then, getting into my car the other day, I noticed this one laying in the gutter:


When you find something that beautiful, you can't resist the compulsion to keep it. But then sanity clicked in and screamed, "It's still a DEAD BUG, no matter how you look at it." DEAD BUG. DEAD. BUG. So I left it alone, and it still feels like a shame.

posted by v @ 1:20 PM