By James Leavey
There's a lot that's been bugging me this week, in more ways than
one. Western Europe has been invaded by a supercolony of Argentian ants
who, unlike the silly bureaucrats who reputedly run the European Union,
represent the largest co-operative unit of individual organism. The 'Argies',
as we Brits used to call them, in the bad old days of the Falkland War
conflict, have collectively driven out the 20 or more indigenous species
in an area that stretches from Italy, through the south of France,
around the coast of, and up the Atlantic coast of Portugal. And none of
them smoke.
Fortunately, a second smaller supercolony of Argentian ants has also
been identified in the Catalan region of Spain and around Barcelona, and
scientists say these ants are more than happy to make war on their
compatriots. If I could only teach them to smoke Havanas, what a great
ally we would have.
Any day now, 'Argies Number One' will come goosestepping through
the Channel Tunnel to invade Britain. That's if they don't mind
joining the endless queue of illegal immigrants who have been coming on
one-way shopping trips here since the Chunnel opened.
Only last week a Eurostar Business Class passenger was bitten on the
train, halfway between England and France, by a venomous tropical
spider. Surely it's time to introduce smoking on that beleagured
pan-European train - then passengers could at least defend themselves
with the burning end of whatever they're puffing. Or, if they meet an
Argie Fire Ant, light up their favourite tobacco.
As if all that wasn't bad enough, climate change caused by
greenhouse gas emissions (not from cigarettes!) could apparently lead to
an Everglades-style environment in Britain, in which previously alien
species such as alligators and salamanders could thrive, by 2080.
Malaria-bearing mosquitoes are expected daily in London, which may soon
resemble the Florida swamps.
Time to light up my next double corona, and burn those little rascals
right out of the sky. Just as long as they don't fall into my glass of
Malt whisky. And, of yes, I think the moment has come to fill in that
bloody Chunnel - it's more trouble than it's worth.
