It's that time of year again, when hordes descend on Manhattan to plunder her goods, revel in her tarted-up beauty, then vanish without so much as a goodbye to commemorate the holiday booty call.
This Christmas, there's another invasive species in town, one that won't be going away soon or, in fact, ever. Let me introduce to you the gift that keeps on giving: Periplaneta japonica.
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This Japanese cousin of our American cockroach differs in one special way. It can live in freezing temperatures, which means it will have a distinct advantage when it comes to surviving a New York winter.
They most likely got here by stowing away in the soil of imported plants used to decorate the High Line, a public park created atop elevated railway track on Manhattan's West Side. Thus has Mayor Bloomberg unwittingly fulfilled his desire to leave behind a permanent mark of his tenure on the city.
On the bright side, they won't be kissing cousins. According to insect biologists at Rutgers University, the two have "incompatible genitalia." I'm not surprised. Just look at our guy:
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| "Sorry, love. You're not my type." |
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He's a debonair fellow, one who probably sleeps exclusively on discarded New Yorker magazine pages. (Shouts &Murmurs, poetry, perhaps a bit of fiction if it's not too tawdry.)
Scientists are hopeful that explosion of the Asian cockroach population will be limited by its need to compete for resources with the natives. Every crack and crevice around us will be a battleground in an insectile Game of Thrones.
It's rare to root for the home team when it's comprised of multi-legged creatures who would happily lick our silverware when we're not looking. If we ever discover a breed with tongues, I will start work on that panic room I've been meaning to build.
If all else fails, maybe we can enlist the help of this guy. I hear he's got a lot of friends.
Merry Christmas and sweet dreams, everybody! I feel itchy.
Labels: Asian cockroach, Christmas, cockroaches, High Line, holiday, magick sandwich, New York City, the tick
