“Profound Pests and Philosophical Pretensions.”

Picture this: I, the enlightened anthropologist-entrepreneur, engaged in a War and Peace reenactment with six-legged adversaries. After days of diplomatic negotiations (read: bribing ants with sugar trails leading away from my desk after acknowledging the chocolate cake wasn’t very tasty), I resorted to chemical warfare. The fat fly? I attempted to guide it through my “humongous” window with the patience of a Bodhisattva, only to end up swatting it into the afterlife. My conclusion?

All revolutions end in bloodshed—even against insects.

How does this farce relate to hieroglyphs, anarchists, and Banksy? Let’s dissect. My sugar-bribes mirrored Kropotkin’s mutual aid—until they didn’t. Like Berkman’s disillusioned revolutionaries, the ants took the goods and laughed in my face. The fly embodied chaotic freedom; Goldman would’ve praised its refusal to be “guided.” My swatter? A capitalist state crushing dissent.

The ants’ pheromone trails are nature’s hieroglyphs—eternal, indecipherable, and smug. My window scribbles (“FLY, YOU FOOL!”) are graffiti, equally ignored. I played draughts with the fly, calculating angles of escape. It chose chaos theory. My killing spree was a performance art piece: “Man’s Futile Dominion Over Nature (With a Rolled-Up Magazine).” The flies, like Banksy’s rats, outlive my rage.

We’re all just slightly evolved apes with a saviour complex. The same species that carve sacred symbols into pyramids also invents Raid spray. We pen manifestos about liberation while waging holy wars on backyard aphids.

Our greatness lies in our capacity to delude ourselves.

Berkman and Goldman fought for a world where even ants get rights and reason for existence. Instead, we’ve built a dystopia where I, the “enlightened” capitalist, play god with a can of bug killer.

Cheech & Chong would say, “Dude, just smoke a joint and let the ants run the meeting.” But no—we’d instead burn it all down.

My insect saga is a microcosm of human ambition. We inscribe eternity into stone, paint dreams onto canvas, and spray rebellion onto walls—yet creatures with brains the size of sand grains perpetually outsmart us. The ants, like hieroglyphs, will outlast us. The fly, like Banksy’s art, mocks our pretensions.

Mankind’s legacy isn’t pyramids or anarchist utopias—it’s the absurdity of a philosopher-entrepreneur, fist raised to the heavens, screaming at a fly. That’s the metaphysical masterpiece.

May Harmony find you,

Irena Phaedra

P.S. “To bribe an ant is human; to swat a god-complex, divine.” —Irena Phaedra’s Manifesto, probably.

P.P.S. Humanity has always sought ways to express its most profound truths, fears, and aspirations. From the sacred permanence of Egyptian hieroglyphs to the fleeting rebellion of graffiti, from revolutionary writings to stoner comedy, our creative mediums evolve while the metaphysical questions remain constant.

The Ancient Seekers

• Hieroglyphs: Carved into stone, they were humanity’s first attempt to immortalize divine connection and cosmic order. Few today can decipher their sacred language, yet their symbolism endures as echoes of a time when art was inseparable from spirituality.

The Philosophers and Revolutionaries

• Peter Kropotkin, Alexander Berkman, and Emma Goldman: These anarchist thinkers wrote with fire and conviction, dismantling oppressive systems and envisioning mutual aid and liberation utopias. Their works are intellectual hieroglyphs—dense with meaning but often overlooked in favour of more digestible narratives.

The Strategist

• Alexei Tsjizjov: A master of draughts, his achievements symbolize humanity’s quest for mastery over complexity and chaos. His legacy is known primarily within niche circles, yet his metaphysical contribution—pursuing perfection within finite systems—mirrors the timeless search for order amidst disorder.

The Jestful Rebels

• Cheech & Chong: Counterculture icons who used humour to normalize taboo topics like cannabis and critique societal hypocrisy. Their comedy resonates widely because laughter is universal, yet it often overshadows the more profound metaphysical rebellion embedded in their satire.

The Urban Prophet

• Banksy: A modern-day hieroglyphist whose street art blends rebellion with existential critique. His anonymity fuels a mythos that transcends the art world, making him a household name even among those who may miss the philosophical depth of his work.

Conclusion: Few Know the Firsts, and Many Know the Last three

It is a paradox of human history that the earliest seekers of truth—hieroglyphists and revolutionaries—are known only to scholars or niche enthusiasts. Their works require effort to decode, patience to understand, and a willingness to engage with complexity.

In contrast, modern creators like Cheech & Chong or Banksy are widely recognized because their mediums are accessible and their messages are immediate. Humour and street art speak directly to contemporary audiences, bypassing intellectual barriers and resonating on visceral levels.

Yet this accessibility comes at a cost: while many know Banksy’s rats or Cheech & Chong’s stoner antics, few grasp their more profound metaphysical significance—the rebellion against societal norms, the critique of power structures, the existential questions they pose.

Final Thought

This column is not a lament but an invitation—a call to bridge the gap between the few who know the firsts and the many who know the lasts. To see hieroglyphs in graffiti, revolution in comedy, strategy in art. For in every medium lies humanity’s eternal dance between permanence and impermanence, rebellion and order, individuality and universality.