Brachycera Diabolica: Rubbing Your Face in the Vomit

I have often noticed that as summer arrives and warm weather sweeps in, with it comes a palpable animal sexuality. Places of public congregation seem to be permeated by an ethereal fornication and one is almost choked with hormones. All around, rational Homo Sapiens recede to become slaves of tertiary biological drives, abandoning themselves to the frenzy of being 'on heat'. It is, a friend of mine once observed, as if evolution is only half-finished (something of Konrad Lorenz here, who posited that the elusive 'missing link' between beast and man, was humanity itself). This same friend was also convinced that humanity's future depended upon the removal of base urges. Having observed a marked increase in serenity in his neutered cat, he would often threaten to "evolutionise" himself, especially after heavy drinking bouts, whereupon he would bang dementedly on the table crying "It's coming off! It's coming off! It's coming off!"

This hormonal phenomenon has seemed somewhat less distinct in Australia (might this have something to do with an incongruous imposition of the European four seasons where Aboriginals identify six?) but nonetheless it exists. Which brings me to the object of this post; the bush fly.

These infuriating creatures invade the city from early December and for a short but glorious reign they claim it as theirs. Humans cannot walk anywhere without these pea-sized bullets of hyperactivity swarming around them, colonising their flesh. They fly into your hair, land on your lips, crawl near your nostrils, and all you can do is flap your arms frantically in a desperate fit of flailing violence. You cannot ever find satisfaction, the flies are too fast. This leaves an aura of unrealised aggression in the city. Suited businessmen and blue collar workers alike waft their hands insanely, their faces reddening with rage. Women in high heels stumble as they swing their desperate arms and children spit and punch the air. All are left angry and victimless.

This unsatiated violence must find an outlet somewhere. Violence demands catharsis, and it is interesting to note that as Australia's mean temperature (and thus the amount of flies) has increased there has been a correlation in the increase in Melbourne's violent crime rates.






But why do the flies torture us so intently? The flies swarm around humans because we provide them with easy access to the necessary conditions for reproduction. To female flies, sweat glands act as protein vending machines, while a pile of faeces is the perfect incubation unit. It is for this reason that the females are keen to crawl all over us, and for that reason that the males are keen; the humans are where the chicks are. Your whole face is a microcosmic horny disco floor.

The human animal is at its most repulsive and ridiculous when it engages in violence (inter-species violence especially) and when it engages in public copulation. The presence of the flies reflects and encourages both such behaviours. This, rather than mere annoyance, may be why there is such disdain for them. JG Ballard once claimed that he wanted to "rub humanity's face in its own vomit and force it to look in the mirror". This is what the flies achieve, and we hate them for it.