I am not a fan of insects, but I wouldn't go so far as to say I hate them.  I recognize their value in the food chain and all, and so I tolerate the idea of their existence.  I will simply become annoyed (flies/mosquitoes/gnats), repulsed (cockroaches/centipedes), terrified (millipedes/large spiders), or whatever visceral reaction seems appropriate for each encounter.  But that's only true if I know what I'm dealing with. 

The other day something that looked like a curtailed version of a millipede was crawling on my wall, but the legs were weirdly spaced and the antenna were far too long for the length of the body.  Something like that could potentially be loaded with an unknown mutated poison or have such a painful bite that I might wake up shrieking in pain in the middle of the night.  This thing was not part of the thankfully limited roster of vermin we have grown to fear and despise in this city.  There is a reason I am living in an urban environment and not in the Costa Rican jungle, near which I did in fact once live and where I was almost eaten alive, I tell you, devoured whole by a six-inch flying beetle. Damnit, I need to know what these things are so I can properly arm myself against them! 

It's all the fault of global warming and the southcarolinization of the New York climate, a disturbing development which I also loathe.