"From Hell's heart, I stab at thee..."

Mosquitoes. Oh, how I hate thee...

I saw this sign at the Jolly Boys Backpacker Lodge in Vic Falls, where Michael and I have stayed for the past few days:

Amen, brother. Amen.

In my opinion, mosquitoes in Africa aren't like other mosquitoes. They laugh at my feeble defensive countermeasures, such as long-sleeved shirts, long pants, and DEET-based insect repellents. Here's how I imagine their conversation going:

• Mr. Mosquito: Honey, I'm home.

  Mrs. Mosquito: Hello dear. How was your day?

  Mr. Mosquito: Not bad. I bit the bejeezus out of some kid. Even bit him on embarrassing and/or irritating places, like the middle of his forehead and the bottom of his foot.

  Mrs. Mosquito: Fantastic! But wasn't he, like, wearing 50%-strength DEET, the kind that melts plastic, causes cancer, and routinely blinds small children?

  Mr. Mosquito: Ha! 50% is pathetic. I sprinkle 50% on my breakfast cereal.

Anyway, African mosquitoes have bitten me over 100 times in a little over a month. Yeesh. I think of Khan in Star Trek II, shaking his fist at Kirk and saying "For hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee..."* And this leads me to my wish of the moment:

I wish I had Japanse animation-style qi-energy,** which I would use solely to wipe out every mosquito on the face of the earth.*** The revenge would be sweet. And I would serve it cold, like Khan did.

~~~~~~~

*Yes, I know the quote is actually Ahab's/Herman Melville's, not Khan's.

**The kind where raw power crackles around me and runs through my hands and across my skin in violent little waves.

***Screw the food chain.