Arnold, my apologies once again if my actions are perceived have introduced any hint of rancor into this highest of all SD fora. Perhaps I got a little carried away, but reading Sorbian poetry does that to me. I shall strive mightily to refrain from any further note of contentiousness.
:innocent angel with halo smiley:
:fingers crossed behind back smiley:
NanoByte, pax. I reiterate that if I genuinely offended you, I apologize. At the worst, I hinted you might be Sorbian, and that is no insult. They are a charming and gregarious people, if a trifle deficient in the poetry department. And as I said before, when posting anywhere in the vicinity of Cecil (or for that matter, me), it is wise to do so with caution, lest the ignoble fate of the benighted Axiomsj befall you. With regard to the OP, I cannot improve on the detailed critiques so generously provided by the ever-perspicacious Hibernian Irishman and the voluptuous anatid Duck Duck Goose.
As I am much more interested in talking about concupiscent caterpillars than playing Dueling Dictionaries, I shall proceed to answer the question that NanoByte apparently intended to pose, even if he is still reluctant to ask it outright. (And just in case you were asking about bulldozer porn, here’s a site: [link edited by the Chicago Reader to protect the morals of tricycles].)
To wit: How do bagworm moths actually have sex?
The Bagworm Moths (Family Psychidae) comprise a group of about 600 species, being found mostly in the tropics with a few in the temperate zones. In the more “primitive” members of the group (that is, closest to the supposed ancestral condition), the female is much like the male. She metamorphoses into a winged, normal-looking moth, although she usually remains perched on the cocoon from which she emerged waiting for the male rather than flitting around. In the more “advanced” species (that is, most modified from the ancestral condition) the female is “degenerate,” that is, she has lost many of the more complicated structures usually associated with adult insects, including legs and wings. Both male and female bagworm moths have only vestigial mouthparts, for they do not feed at all as adults and may live only a few hours after metamorphosis.
The bagworm’s bag has outlets at either end, one for the head and forelegs and the other to allow for the disposal of wastes. When it comes time to pupate, the caterpillar firmly attaches the bag to a twig with silk fibers. The caterpillar then seals off the head end of the bag with silk, turns around to face the tail opening, and pupates in a head down position. Upon metamorphosis, the adult female does not emerge entirely from the pupal skin, but only cracks open the front part of the hard case. She is described as “a [bare], yellow, maggoty creature with a swollen, shapeless body, with no legs, antennae, or eyes, and with vestigial wings or none at all” (loose translation of the German original). Being almost completely immobile, she remains within the bag, but attracts the male by emitting a powerful aphrodisiac scent (a pheremone).
Once the male finds her, he must insert his schlong (technical entomological term) in the hole in the tail end of the bag, and then into the crack in the front part of the female’s pupal case. He then extends his apparatus along the entire length of the female’s body, within the pupal skin, in order to reach her genitalia. “This remarkable feat is accomplished primarily by the telescopic action of the male abdomen, which is capable of extending itself to three times its normal length” (D. Davis. 1964. The Bagworm Moths of the Western Hemisphere. This edifying work, which I highly recommend, contains ten pages of plates featuring the impressive willies of various bagworm species.) The female may deposit her eggs within the pupal case, or the eggs may remain inside her body, from which the larvae later emerge. At least some species of bagworm dispense with this entire elaborate operation, since like some aphids they are parthenogenetic and thus have no need of either males or sex.
In some tropical bagworm moths the male apparatus appears to do double duty. When resting, the male curves his extensile abdomen over his back, according to some observers in an attempt to fool birds into thinking he is a scorpion and thus dangerous. For fellow males, the thought of a male bagworm moth attempting to intimidate a predator 10,000 times his size by waving his whanger at it will evoke an image of ineffable poignance. Sort of reminiscent of that battle scene in Braveheart.
Any further questions?