Given how little we know about even such a small subset as… insects… I would say that “weirdness” of some invertebrates is not yet a thing. We might come to appreciate it in the future, but not soon.
In tiny spheres of melted snow
Around the tips of mosses,
Where creatures dream, and freeze, and thaw,
And never count their losses;
In deepest oceans’ private wells,
Where life still crawls about,
Defying water’s crushing spells
Within just as without, -
Wherever people have cared to look,
They saw, and cheered, and cursed
The fighting claw, the winning hook,
The glorious eggshell burst.
Given how little we know about even such a small subset as… insects… I would say that “weirdness” of some invertebrates is not yet a thing. We might come to appreciate it in the future, but not soon.
In tiny spheres of melted snow Around the tips of mosses, Where creatures dream, and freeze, and thaw, And never count their losses;
In deepest oceans’ private wells, Where life still crawls about, Defying water’s crushing spells Within just as without, -
Wherever people have cared to look, They saw, and cheered, and cursed The fighting claw, the winning hook, The glorious eggshell burst.