I find that of all the flying insects that sometimes fly into my flat, flies are the least amenable to any form of reason. Wasps are also often intractable, especially when angered. But flies are just stupid.
Now a bee, on the other hand, a bee will listen to reason. A bee will buzz in, lost and confused, but when I show them that the open window is just there, and invite them to leave through it, off they go. Indeed, there have been times when I have been too busy to gesture to a bee, and have simply explained that there’s a open window in the other room through which they may exit. Bees are smart and they want to understand.
Flies, it seems, are impervious to all forms of reason and evidence. Flies fly in (or arise, unbidden, from their hideous secret places) and it doesn’t matter how much you point to the WIDE OPEN WINDOW in front of them, or how much you wave and create drafts and patiently explain and give instructions – flies just keep buzzing around and around and around, gradually inviting their own destruction at the hands of an increasingly annoyed woman who has only been trying to help.
This is not, of course, a metaphor for anything. What in the world could resemble a stupid buzzing insect flying around in a trap of its own making, when nothing is standing between it and its passage into a clear bright day? What could remind one of such stupidity, such refusal to acknowledge what is blindingly obvious, such mindless, idiotic devotion to a completely mistaken course of action? What, indeed.