You’ve seen them or heard them - or if you’re unlucky you’ve felt them. Sting you that is! Or if you’re really unlucky you’ve felt them sting you and then felt your air passages close up and then felt yourself dying. However, on the minus side the honey they make is often sticky.
On the flipside of the minus side - killer bees. Killer bees are great in theory, and theory is the bread and butter of all criticism. Since we at the Cultural Object Roundup live in an airtight bunker, we are fully confident that their migration pattern will keep them entirely theoretical for us. This facilitates our ability to accurately criticize the bee, because, as they will most likely remain harmless, we shall not be distracted by the possibility of death at the tips of innumerable Lilliputian knives, laced with fire and wielded with inexorable and mindless savagery. The unfairly maligned killer bee must be celebrated for its incredible tightrope act of balancing on the razor’s edge both its seemingly contradictory roles – member of a terrifying horde and the subject of idle speculation.
Another variety of bee is harmless, but without nearly the frisson: the bumblebee. The bumblebee’s stingerless body “bumbles,” or galumphs, from flower to flower while fulfilling his unique role in the ecosystem. Without the bumblebee playing its vital role in the great theater of the wild as nature’s fat little pussy, most of the other insects would have nothing upon which to vent their dissatisfaction. So go ahead and beat him up, its what Evolution wants you to do.
In conclusion, while their yellow stripes are pleasing to look at, their buzzing and inconsistent tendency to be bumble instead of killer are barely outweighed by how much bears love honey. So while at first blush flowers may be prettier, in the end bees are just less girly.
Qualitative Quantification: eleventy fractions
