A deadpan diary entry on the newly discovered Luffy beetle genus, spiraling thoughts about mandibles, and one man’s quiet campaign to have an insect named after himself
Scientists named a new genus of beetle Luffy this week, after the stretchy pirate from that cartoon, on account of the beetle having unusually long, slender mandibles, and I have not been able to think about anything else since, mostly because I also have unusually long slender things on my face, though mine are just teeth, and nobody’s named a beetle after me yet.
Why This Particular Beetle Situation Actually Bothers Me More Than It Should
It’s not that I want fame exactly. I just think if a man works hard enough, stays consistent enough, develops some kind of unusually elongated body part, he should get a beetle. That’s the whole deal. That’s the social contract as I understand it.
What I Actually Did After Reading The Article Twice
Stood in front of the bathroom mirror for a while, checking myself for any features that might, under the right entomological circumstances, be considered stretchy or unusually slender, and concluded that my elbows have potential, though probably not beetle potential specifically.
How I’ve Started Ranking Which Body Parts Of Mine Are Most Likely To Get Me A Beetle Someday
Elbows, first, for reasons stated. Second would be my left eyebrow, which does something unusual when I’m surprised, a kind of independent, slightly delayed reaction that I think, in insect form, could be genuinely striking. Third is my personality, which I recognize doesn’t technically have a physical shape, but I remain hopeful science will eventually find a way. Fourth, added just this morning after further reflection, is the specific way I clear my throat before saying something I’m not fully confident about, which I believe demonstrates a kind of behavioral distinctiveness scientists might find equally compelling to physical stretchiness.
Why I Think The Scientists Chose A Cartoon Pirate Specifically, And Whether That Precedent Helps My Case
If they can name a beetle after a fictional pirate purely because his arms stretch, then surely there’s room, somewhere down the taxonomic pipeline, for a real, actual, currently-living man whose elbows have been quietly doing something interesting for years without anyone noticing.
What My Wife Said When I Explained All This To Her At Dinner
She said the beetle thing was probably more about mandibles specifically, not general stretchiness, and that my elbows, while noted, are not mandibles, and also that I should eat my vegetables before they get cold, which felt like a real shift in subject given the gravity of what I was trying to discuss.
How I’ve Actually Started Practicing My Mandibles, Just In Case
I’ve been chewing my food a bit more deliberately this week, extending my jaw slightly further than strictly necessary, on the theory that if scientists are out there watching for unusual mandible behavior, I want mine on record as at least trying.
Why I Think This Whole Beetle Situation Is Actually A Broader Metaphor For Something, Though I Haven’t Worked Out What Yet
Something about how the things that get remembered aren’t always the things you’d expect, a stretchy cartoon pirate outliving most of the actual pirates in history, a small beetle now permanently tied to a story its own discoverers probably watched as kids. There’s a lesson in there. I just haven’t found it.
What I’m Actually Planning To Do The Next Time I Meet An Entomologist At A Party
Show them my elbows immediately, before any small talk, on the theory that opportunities like this don’t come around often and a man has to be ready.
What I Imagine The Actual Naming Ceremony Looks Like, Assuming There Is One
Probably a small room, a few tired scientists, someone holding up a jar with the beetle in it saying something like “this one’s got the arms of a cartoon pirate” and everyone just nodding, agreeing, moving on with their day like this is a completely normal thing that happens at work. I’d like to be in that room someday. Not as the beetle. As a witness.
Why I Started A Small, Private List Of Other Body Parts That Might Someday Warrant Scientific Attention
My right knee makes a sound when it’s cold that I’ve never heard documented anywhere in the medical literature, and I think that alone might be worth a footnote somewhere, if not a whole beetle, then at least a modest species of moth.
How My Son Reacted When I Told Him About My Elbow Ambitions
He said dads are embarrassing and went back to his phone, which I’ve chosen to interpret as quiet, generational encouragement rather than the dismissal it almost certainly was.
What I Think This Whole Week Has Actually Taught Me About Legacy
That it can show up in the strangest places, a jar in a lab, a cartoon rerun still playing somewhere, a beetle nobody will ever personally meet carrying a name that outlived the reason anyone first gave it to him. I’d like something like that. Even something small. Even just the elbows. I’ve decided to keep the mirror practice going a little longer, just to be safe, in case science comes looking sooner than expected, elbows first, always elbows first.