It is a time of war. We are under attack, and every woman, man, and child must fend for themselves. They are coming for us, and there’s nothing we can do to stop them. We must fight until we can fight no more. I’m so tired I could cry.
The worst mosquito—and I mean the absolute most terrifying, truly despicable, has-no-ethics worst mosquito— is the one that ambushes the innocent while they sleep. The cowards do their reconnaissance in the cloak of darkness, pinpointing their target (you, the person you love) first via the carbon dioxide that they exhale. Some mosquitos might get a few bites in before their victim hears the initial high-pitched buzz of wings flapping over their ears—something that survivors describe sounding like an angry Queen Bee had burrowed into their brain, and was fighting to get out. This is the mosquito’s hit-and-run game, a way to embed paranoia and weaken morale. By the time the lights have been turned on, the enemy has retreated. Mosquitos are the worst bug because they are sneaky like that.
As someone who prefers nonviolent conflict resolution, it’s not easy for me to condone buying a weapon to use against any living thing. (Any mouse that might enter my home without permission would generally be chased away by the sound of cats meowing on a YouTube video playing from my computer.) But this is a matter of self-defense, and revenge. Mosquitos are the only living thing that truly deserve capital punishment—death by electrocution, specifically. And that power can be wielded by your hand.
Have you seen those hand-held bug zappers? The ones that look like a badminton racket, except the strings are electrically charged, as signified by the lightning bolt symbol (or perhaps, an outline of a mean bug) built into the design? Please meet your new best friend, your new trusted sidekick. This guy will go to sleep with you at night, and still be there when you wake up in the morning.
Don’t even try to compare this thing to a fly swatter. This feat of technology was created specifically to make up for the failings of our go-to methods for bug maintenance. Stationary bug zappers are for decks and patios, and not a particularly alluring addition to your bedroom or living room. Spraying yourself down with repellent works to varying degrees, but the protection eventually wears off. (And you don’t want to smell like DEET while chilling in your own home.) The beauty of this racket is that it’s mobile! Hold down the button (which delivers a charge to the “netting”), and go to town any time you see one of those buggers flying through the air. A rolled up newspaper requires your bug to be still and stationary, this makes batting practice much more interesting.
I know this from years of experience, after living in a place where a handheld bug zapper was crucial to my survival. I used to spend summer vacations in India—this was the height of monsoon season, and when villainous skeeters were at their most brutal, thanks to the combination of heat and standing water after the rain. There was no escaping them, and it seemed like they could sense those who might be the most allergic and foreign, and therefore the easiest to prey upon. So every night before bed, my mother and brother and I locked ourselves in whatever room we were sleeping in, and went hunting for skeeters. We’d shake the drapes and bang at the windows for any hiding between the two. Zap! We’d use the racket to clunk around under the beds for any chilling and waiting for us to go to bed, and zap zap zap. We’d turn on the ceiling fans and stare suspiciously at the ceilings and walls, should any mosquitos be trying to blend in with flecks in the paint... and then we’d zap zap zappity-zaperoo.
There is nothing more thrilling than killing a mosquito in this fashion. You may develop a taste for it, and find yourself hoping that one of these jerks dare show up in your home. You may realize that you love the sound it makes—the sound of death—and what does that say about you? Don’t worry about it. Just go ahead and zap the jerks. If you hear a crackle, and smell burnt bug leg—you’ve done an exceptional job, and made your people proud. Congrats.