I admire Nature for her efficiency—there’s a lot to learn from all of the things we take for granted. Cockroaches, flies, and various other vermin creatures can teach us the essence of cleanliness, that thing that’s apparently next to godliness (whatever that is) for incomprehensible reasons. I find it ironic that the puritanical virtue of cleanliness is something that cockroaches achieve without thought: they don’t care where they walk, but they are fastidiously clean, at least by cockroach standards. Does this mean that cockroaches are godly? Probably so, and because of my writer’s relationship with Franz Kafka, and his way of thinking, I can say—with certainty—that Gregor Samsa has a thing or two to teach about cockroaches. Anyway, this isn’t about cockroaches; it’s Nature’s efficiency that I’m on about. If vermin creatures (those known to eat waste, and thus, get rid of it) can teach of what it actually takes in order to make something clean, then things like strawberries can teach us about such ideals as efficiency, cunning, and bribery. In the world of Chip, the ability to shamelessly bribe is a good thing (for the most part.) Strawberries are consummate bribers. Nature has endowed them with the ability to cajole non-plant life forms to transport their hard, indigestible embryos in their stomachs, before ejecting them (along with fertilizer) elsewhere. Strawberry plants don’t care if they’re nutritious, good-tasting, or pleasant. They’re only interested in making other strawberry plants, and ensuring that those other strawberry plants cover as wide a territory as possible. Gastro-intestinal tracts make excellent transport vehicles. This is not a conscious thing, however; strawberries have no mental abilities, and thus, no concept of what they’re actually doing. They’re just functioning according to the requirements of Nature. We have mental abilities, however, and an intriguing habit of cajoling ourselves into believing just about anything…most likely in defense against things we misunderstand. I think, therefore, that we’ve convinced ourselves that Nature exists for our gratification, when the truth is more likely that we make pretty good transportation modules for tasty fruity things. I find this amusing! We’ve sent people to the moon. We’ve sent people into the depths of the ocean. We’ve sent people to both planetary poles. These are bold, new worlds for strawberries and other thingies with edible seed modules. We are—among countless other things—an evolutionary tool and not the magnum opus of all evolutionary processes. We play one role among many, but because of our egos, we deny many of those roles and, thus, deprive ourselves of any fun those roles might offer. I find this refreshing, because it means that we have freedom to decide many more things than we give ourselves permission to decide. It allows us to expand in every way (physically, mentally, and spiritually) into the generous amount of wiggle room that the universe has provided for us and any other sentient/sapient beings. And in my opinion, plenty of wiggle room is one of the best things existence has to offer. I learned that from a strawberry, when I was 18 years old and heard a religious elder mispronounce the name of one of his own holy places. (I was at the back of a church, eating a strawberry, and waiting for my chance to dash out because there was a cute guy outside I’d wanted to talk to.) Because of that, I cherish strawberries. I eat them making sure to save a few seeds to deposit (without evacuating waste) in some random place where a new plant may take root. In that way, I think, I am (at least symbolically) fulfilling one of my many, many functions as a human being. I rather like that, because—when all is said and done—it’s fun. As always, thank you for viewing, reading, and commenting, and I hope you’re all having a good week.