It's Time to Make Peace with Spiders

First of all, let's just all have the bravery to be honest about this: spiders are super-scary and would probably have never existed in an ideal universe. However, #Trump2016 and The Big Bang Theory's immortality prove without a doubt that whatever else this universe is, it is not ideal. Hence, spiders. 

Spiders exist and aren't going away anytime soon. We as a species refuse to accept the uncomfortable truth that we must coexist with the arachnid races. Yet accept it we must. We must face facts, look the truth right in eye and – 

Oh God why does the truth have so many eyes help

Now, I've been a dedicated arachnophobe my whole life. It's one of the few remaining socially-acceptable forms prejudice and I have no intention of giving up the privilege of hating and fearing a form of life just for looking different to me. And how different spiders look indeed. What is up with those legs?

Quadrupeds are OK; I mean, we've successfully proven that two legs work just fine so you'd imagine that after a few million years cows and mice would have gotten the hint, but what's a couple of extra legs between friends? Insects, though… what the hell? Why do they need six legs, exactly? They don't help them move any faster (the day a cockroach outruns a horse, give me a call so I can book us a flight out of this planet). Some of them even have wings too. It's a disgusting display of excess and the animal kingdom isn't impressed by it, insects.

But then we come to spiders, and you know they're just doing it to annoy. Eight legs? Get out. Come back when you're ready to be taken seriously. And take the scorpions with you.

(I know millipedes exist but I'm hope that if we don't pay them any attention they'll just stop.)

It's an unforgettable experience, the first time you feel those eight limbs scurrying up the confines of your trouser leg. The sensation calls you to action. Clearly there isn't room enough for both you and a spider in a single pair of pants. Most people solve the dilemma by strongly encouraging the spider to retreat, by shaking the affected leg frantically and/or swatting at the thing's shape beneath the fabric. 

What happens when the spider holds fast? Would you grimly soldier through the day with your new neighbour… or would you vacate the trousers themselves rather than cohabit with the enemy? The latter is understandable but not commendable. Not only is it undignified surrender, it makes the spider feel very smug.

And don't even talk to me about the number of times they've surprised me, personally, in the bathroom. Dirty, rotten trick, sneaking up on me when I'm at my most vulnerable. I admit I've displayed cowardice on such occasions. I've let the spider win, we've all let the spider win.

For how much longer can such things be? We can't keep avoiding these freakish beasts forever, and while we can kill them in their ones or even thousands we know that's no permanent solution to the problem. What I propose may sound radical – certainly unpleasant – but I fear that we have no choice but to get over it.

I mean, spiders have eight legs and that's really weird and some species have bites that can cause skin and flesh to die in the local area, but Donald Trump has the US presidency and that should really put things in context. We as a species need to look hard at ourselves and ask, "Guys, what are we doing? Are we okay?" Introspection is tough and scary, even scarier than spiders, but it's time to admit that maybe it's us that arachnids should be running away from.

Zoheb Mashiur (BSS) is vice president of the Arachnid Defence League (Banani chapter).