I think if I were Jesus, I'd be embarrassed about mosquitoes the way I'm embarrassed when my dad offers to take strangers' pictures for them at parks and monuments. He's proactive about the picture taking; he doesn't wait to be approached, but rather seeks out the opportunity. And when one of the disciples was bit by a mosquito, I imagine Christ felt the same way. Like, "Come on, dad. Really? Mosquitoes?"
99% of the time, I have the heart of an eco-warrior. When EarthFirst burns down some vapid drywall development in a sensitive area, I think "fair enough." When I see weeds cracking the sidewalk, I tend to side with the ragged little green jihadists. But when I get bit by a mosquito, a cloud darkens my visage and I turn straight neocon. Pave the earth, drain the rivers and lakes, kill everything without a federal ID card. All foodweb participants must fill out an application, the first question of which is "are you a mosquito or do you have any mosquito sympathies." I want to usher in animal kingdom McCarthyism and route out every species with parasitic tendencies: Okay, I know you're not actually a mosquito, but you produced a film that portrayed them in a less than sinister light...pinko.
The thing is, I've got no issue with their bloodthirst. I've got plenty to give and they've got broods to feed. It's with their damn anti-coagulant that I take issue. Has anyone in the mosquito community really thought this one through? It's a little greedy isn't it? I mean, one never gets more than a prick anyway, and by the time they do, it's curtains for draculito. Just deal with a little coagulation and live to suck another day. Where did this Russian strategy for blood sucking come from anyway? Throw every mosquito at them, make them slow, obvious and unable to fight back, and some will eventually get through. I wish the mosquitoes would consult with Rumsfeld. I'd much prefer a smaller, stealthier population.
A species of precise, clean-proboscis'd mosquitoes is something I'd gladly abide, even welcome on camping trips. Something like a tiny, insectoid cattle egret. I'd even set out a small dish of heart juice after a heavy rain, just a little tray on the porch. But, as they stand, I can't morally defend them against even the most indiscreet and disproportionate of man's responses.