Four Eyes. Or Eight. Maybe Six.

Today, I have found myself quite distracted by a very important question: What (in the fruit) is going on with spider eyes? I’m not certain of how the issue originally came into my mind, but since its arrival I’ve been unable to come up with an answer satisfactory enough to let it go. I’m particularly perplexed by this: Why do some spiders have 8 eyes, while some have 6… or 4… or 2? What sorts of creatures are these? It would be pretty strange for any other species of living thing to have such variety in the number of any of their organs and/or parts.

“So,” I imagine a conversation with my friends beginning, “this new guy you met – what’s he like?”

“He’s nice.” I’d reply. “Tall. Brown hair, olive skin. He has a bit of an odd accent. Four ears, and two mouths. I think he knows Sarah. Did I tell you that?”

It just doesn’t make sense. What’s more, I’ve learned that most spiders have poor eyesight. What in the hell?? The pitiful things have been shafted all the way around. Not only do they have to look like scary freaks, but there’s no payoff to it! Those creepy looking monstrosities protruding from their heads are – to be blunt – completely worthless. Apparently, some spiders use all eight of their eyeballs just to distinguish between variations in lighting. Who made up the rules to that game?? If I were a spider, I’d be quite resentful about it. In fact, I might even become aggressive toward anyone who could see better than me. You know what I would do? At night, when it’s dark out, I’d take advantage of my shadow-distinguishing abilities and I’d scurry all around, crawling unto any creature with better sight than me, reveling in their temporary blindness. Of course, should they begin to move I might very well panic (not being able to really see what’s going on, you know…) and I might instinctively bite.

Wait a minute…. I think I might have a better understanding of what’s been going on in my apartment…

Still no better understanding of the eye conundrum, though. The poor spiders waiting for my room to grow dark are probably stamping all of their appendages (which are also present in bizarrely high numbers) in impatience. They’re out of luck. I have pondering to do…