Arachnid   The whole endoskeleton thing — what’s with that? What on earth were the vertebrates thinking? So inside out — bumbling bags of blithering meat, we call ’em. But when we sink our syphons in deep — delicious. So warm, so rich — soup’s on! Four legs, a tail — absurd. Or worse: the no-tails, with their, whatsits, “arms,” tottering along on two legs — the word is ridiculous. And speaking of legs — insects . . . why’d they stop at six? Makes no sense. I mean, nice carapace, some of them. Eggs, check. Mandibles, check. But, God, they’re so dense, so clumsy — six, feh. Okay, wings and flight, I get that. But eight seems just about right.     © Michael Fleming Putney, Vermont October 2018