Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Girl, you so hot you melt metal that I will use for pest extermination.

Picture it: Texas, 1983. 

The oppressive summer heat hadn't yet forced us indoors as my grandmother and I enjoyed a morning on the brick patio.  Even to this day she wakes up to watch the sun rise and spends the morning outdoors drinking coffee and mastering crossword puzzles.  I, three year old Baby Sauce, was joining her in what I'm assuming was an oversized tshirt with red popscicle stains down the front and nothing else which is my outfit choice even to this day.  Stains optional.

I was playing - nay, sashaying - through the grass enjoying our peace and quiet away from my tornado of a sibling when I paused briefly at the edge of the patio, no doubt to practice a spin, when I found myself with ankle socks made of fire ants.

Ahh, Texas.

Except in the case of macaroni and cheese lust, I generally feel like I'm a calm and stoic person in the face of adversity and not one to overreact.  However, I could not contain the agony being inflicted on my tiny, peachy extremities and began to scream and run in place with an athletic intensity that I didn't know I possessed and would never see again.  

Should there be a fire ant sprint in Sochi, I would easily win.  And then pour them down Putin's pants.  

Fortunately my grandmother, with a sense of calm that I only hope I inherited when I'm not being eaten alive by fire ants, came over and brushed away all the ants with her bare hands and directed me to STOP RUNNING DIRECTLY ON TOP OF THE ANTHILL, LACY.  Hey, I was distraught and couldn't think straight.  Also, three.

I don't remember much after that but I do remember going out to dinner later that night with my cute lavender summer sandals and my feet and ankles covered in dozens of tiny Bandaids.  Even then I was MORTIFIED at my feet looking so terrible and just knew everyone was staring at me.  I'm sure this in no one affected my growing self awareness and it certainly had nothing to do with any self-esteem problems, social anxiety or body shame I may or may not have had.

So when I saw this video, which I highly encourage you to watch, not only was I utterly fascinated but I tasted the most delicious cold dish of all: REVENGE.


Anthill Art pours molten aluminum into the colonies of red imported fire ants (RIFAs) to destroy them.  These guys are so fucking metal. (ZING! PUNS!)

Do not feel bad for these angry little fuckers.  They are terrible pests and apparently are mostly destroyed using fire, gasoline and poison.  Boiling water works for some small ant hills but if you're from Texas you know that many are indeed GIANT GAWDDAMN HILLS.

I'm fascinated with regular ant colonies and all social/hive-minded creatures with the exception of the Borg.  I mean, they build their own homes, y'all!  I much prefer the bee kinds of homes because they are much tastier but I appreciate a designer mind no matter how small or evil.

I know that we had an ant farm when I was younger once I got over the trauma.  I'm not sure what happened to the ants but I have a vague recollection of a certain tornadic sibling eating them just to horrify me.

Even without the badass process and sweet, sweet feeling of revenge I would absolutely display one of these pieces in my house.  I would also absolutely change the wood base though - maybe a block of marble or a live edge block of wood or something... I don't know, these polished bases aren't working for me.

All pics of Anthill Art via 22 Words
But honestly they're so fascinating I don't even care that much.

I don't know how much this guy is selling his pieces for - probably way more than I could ever afford but I did find a few on ebay that were under $100!

This lanky guy is at a starting bid of $75.

This little guy is only $35!!  WHY DID I MAKE FEBRUARY A NO SPEND MONTH?!?!?!?

$25. *crying*

I'm looking at bigger ones now so it hurts less.  This is a red harvester ant colony for $200.

Then there's the mother of them all - this almost three foot long piece of aluminum that I know you want to put on your dining room table too.  Except it's $1250.

Ebay seems to have enough listings that I could check back in March and unload $50 or so for a death trap - oops I mean sculpture - of amazing awesomeness.

My grandmother will be so proud.  But most likely disgusted.  That's love for ya.

You know what's real love?  Pouring molten metal down a hole then digging it up for me.  Makes a great Valentime's Day gift for weirdos like me.  *hint, hint*

I don't know who in the hell I'm hinting at other than imaginary boyfriends aka Idris Elba.

Or Christmas is only eleven months away, y'all.  It's almost like you're saving the environment, you do-gooder.  Al Gore would be so proud.


I kept digging and found these amazing casts by Walter Tschinkel who I think did this method long before the guy up top.  Read more about it here but check out these amazing casts that would make amazing CHANDELIERS!  

Or just a cool stalactite for your house.

That's a market that's vastly underdeveloped - the home stalactite business.

Pretty sure this guy is giving Idris Elba a run for his money now.  

The heat of molten metal will destroy my panties is what I'm saying.


  1. Me want! Me want! Sculptural death thrones! They are so pretty and creepy. I would want to shine them until they blinded people, but that's just me.

    "...when I found myself with ankle socks made of fire ants" -- for some reason I found this adorable/horrible. Like you were a vintage Campbell's soup round kid covered in Dali ant shoes.

    1. Surely we could just be friendly/flirty to some local college professors and get them to make us some anthill art, right?!

      Dali ant shoes made me laugh. I mean, cry in memory, but also laugh.

    2. Hmmm, my husband is an engineer & we do have ants we hate....oh wait, he probably won't be down with killing regular ants. We only smash when they're in the kitchen. Rolling up on them with molten metal while they are minding their business in our yard might be violate his sense of ethics. Where can I find a fire ant hill in Oakland?!