By James Hanback
Like many other people who live in houses, I have a contract with a pest control company. Now and then, someone arrives at my door wearing a crisp uniform and carrying a giant canister full of some kind of magical chemical concoction. This pest controller uses a long wand that is attached to the canister to conjure up a magic invisible shield that prevents six- or eight- or hundred-legged creatures from invading my space. I know the pest control service is working and worth it when I am not confronted by any tiny crawling, flying, or undulating critters. Thus the debugger who visits my house every now and again does so because I don’t want to see any evidence of bugs in my living space.
