Monday, July 22, 2002 Volume 67, Issue 157


 
 









 

Spiders creep columnist out

Kristin Buchanan
Opinion Columnist

I really don't like spiders. They're creepy. I'm sure if you took the time to look into their beady little eyes, you would see nothing but pure evil staring
back at you from those orbs of darkness.

If spiders could communicate with humans, we would no doubt learn of their evil plans for world domination — that is, if we were able to break free
from their sinister mind-control long enough.

Who knows, they may already be controlling our minds. Even as you read this, they could be manipulating the way you think. The worst thing is, the
malevolent creatures can fit into the tiniest crevices of my apartment. I hate the thought of co-existing with them.

My aversion to spiders began in my childhood years. When I was five, I awoke one morning to see a huge spider less than a foot away from my face.
I watched in terror as the creature crawled across my blanket. Even more shocking than waking up to see this monstrosity in front of me was the way
it walked unfazed while I screamed in horror. It crawled down the side of my bed and was gone by the time my mom walked in.

I wouldn't exactly say I have a phobia; it's more like a severe aversion to arachnids. My stomach turns whenever I see a picture of a spider. And yet I
can't seem to look away.

Saturday night, I saw Eight Legged Freaks, a film about giant spiders trying to take over the world. While the movie is a parody of all the delightfully
cheesy horror flicks I watched as a kid—campy favorites like Empire of the Ants, Land of the Spiders and The Swarm—it still gave me the
heebie-jeebies.

I would totally recommend the movie, with reservations, of course. While the sound effects are pretty funny, giving the mammoth spiders a layer of
personality, they're also a little spooky at the same time. No one likes to hear the pitter-patter of little feet—when it comes from evil spiders bent on
weaving a web of worldwide destruction. I was completely repulsed as the spiders bit into their victims, weaving their heads back and forth like so
many warm-blooded predators devouring their prey. I hate to admit it, but the movie really got under my skin.

Later, I couldn't even reach into my purse without the thought of a castaway spider waiting for me.

A few weeks ago, I had an encounter that seemed straight out of Arachnophobia. As I was about to step into the shower, I pulled the shower curtain
back. Just then, a spider about one inch in length dropped down, dangling defiantly in front of me. 

I grabbed the toilet brush and, holding it by the brush end, I swung at the beast. It landed on the knob, and I swung at it again. The creepy, crawly
creature fell down the waterspout.

I turned on the shower, and washed the spider out. And, unlike the song, the not-so-itsy-bitsy spider did not crawl up the spout again ... to my

knowledge, at least.

Buchanan, a senior communication
major, can be reached at wheresthecoffee@yahoo.com.


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