Why is it that we kill bugs?

We claim to value life so much, animal and human alike, but the bugs – they're inconsequential. The wasps have to be killed, the ants have to be exterminated, the flies have to be squashed. Why? Is it that the size of their body makes them worth less, the sheer number of their population makes them worth less in the long run?

I don't know. I ask myself these things while I stare at a wall contemplating whether or not I should kill this huge fly sitting there, crawling up it slowly. Is it wrong to kill it? Is it only right to kill it because other people tell me so?

What right have I got to take the life of another creature?

I don't think hunting is inherently wrong. I don't think hunting an animal, eating its meat, using its bones and pelt, making sure its life is not ended in vain – I don't think that's wrong. I think that's an extension of the natural predator/prey order of things. A wolf is not evil for killing the rabbit it eats. A rabbit is not evil for eating the clover. Does that mean a person is evil for eating a cow? I don't think so, not inherently.

But is it wrong to kill a fly? Is it wrong to take the life of a creature whose body I can never use, who I will inevitably ball up in a tissue like bodily waste and throw away? Is it right for me to deem this creature as waste?

I don't know. I think it probably is.

I've always been proud of my conviction. When I believe something, I stick to it, I stick up for it. But for once, I feel genuinely stuck in an area of moral gray.

"It's just a fly. Get over yourself. It's not important."

Isn't that part of the problem, though?

I don't know.

But I think I'll leave this one be in the meantime.