why caterpillars eat their eggshells

[Ron Gatrelle]

You should probably ignore this post - it is 3:30 a.m. and I am actually
asleep and not responsible for anything.

----- Original Message -----
From: "Liz Day" <beebuzz at kiva.net>
To: <leps-l at lists.yale.edu>
Sent: Sunday, April 01, 2001 8:58 PM
Subject: Re: why caterpillars eat their eggshells

>....But in either case, the eater risks getting a disease, so
 >maybe that's why they don't do these things.
> Liz Day
>

I know I should just keep out of this. But. My only objection is when
thought gets expressed in an anthropomorphic manner. "...the eater risks
getting a disease, so maybe that's why they don't do these things." This
again, necessitates pretty deep intellectual thought. e.g. "Humm, I _risk_
getting sick if I eat this. I better not eat this for lunch today." or
"Momma told me to never eat frass no matter how edible it looks."  - Sorry,
the sentence says that because of - risk - they may not do...  The eater -
risks.

I surely know that Liz is not purporting that the larvae "think" about
this.
And it is surely true that it is a  _fact_ that eating certain things
mentioned here could likely lead to sickness and death. But they don't know
this one bit. They don't know anything. Evolution and/or God have
produced/programmed all  kinds of stimuli reactions into living things
(including humans) to affect some end (esp. survival), but it is a reflex -
period. Now, we can still find out the stimuli and the benefit, or
detriment. I just get tired of people talking about mommy Monarch and here
family. I guess the real reason the Monarchs all go to Mexico is for the
family reunion. Hey, why not? I just wish they would wise up and take the
bus. Oh, boy.

Ron digs another hole. What an idiot. What evolutionary stimuli can I blame
for me? What mishap of nature occurred to the female that birthed me and
dropped me on the floor? Surely on my head. Don't I know the risk! I must
find consolation. Shall I visit my confined gold fish in the glass - or the
wild Blue Gills outside in their pond?  Better yet I'll open the cabinets
of my lepidoptera morgue and breath deep the paradichlorobenzene fumes
while I listen to the sound of their silence. Ah, the goal of life - death.
The man, the mouse, the louse. In the dust we are all one. Only then is
there no risk.  The ultimate lurker, silent in the dust. Safe, but dead.
Pause.  Long pause. I awaken. No, I am not an idiot. I am just alive. A
participant. Life is not safe - get used to it. There will be time enough
for safety all too soon. An unwilling contribution to population stability.

>
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