I have a complicated relationship with spiders. On the one hand I understand that they are living creatures with a right to life just like myself. I also understand that in Ireland (where I am from) the very worst case scenario of a spider encounter is a non venomous bite.
With this knowledge I'm usually quite content to capture the eight legged beasts in a glass and release them into the wilderness of my garden. But there is always an initial period of pure instinctive reaction that consistently betrays my façade of manliness.
However I am sure this comes from a time in my genetic history when the reflex to jump away from spiders was actually keeping me from being killed by the venom of these deadly arachnids, those men who were the best at avoiding the dangers of the world survived the longest to pass on their genetic material to future generations.
So rather than feeling ashamed about this gut reaction I've decided instead to celebrate the fact that I am a shining testimony to how adept my genetic line has been at installing such effective automatic defence procedures! It's not cowardice people, preserving your DNA is important!
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