We live in a vast, complicated ecosystem, a fragile structure with interactions that exceed our poor ability to comprehend. But I would vote for getting rid of all the mosquitoes.

Surely the animal world could get along without them, and I suspect they’re far from popular in that society anyway. Bees are way cool, what with the honeycombs and the dancing. Ants are humble and thrifty, sort of the Warren Buffetts of bugs. Grasshoppers are remarkable in a bizarre way; you keep expecting a battery to fall out.

Mosquitoes are just sneaky, obnoxious, insignificant little bloodsuckers, and I’ll bet the rulers of the insect world would secretly give us the go-ahead on an extermination plan. “Those guys?” the president would say. “We’ll criticize you in public, but, seriously, if there’s anything we can do behind the scenes to help …”

Sure, they’re part of the circle of life, that grand, majestic pageant that leads to a ridiculously overpriced funeral. But pieces of that circle do come and go. I’m sure mastodons were quite delicious in their day, but they disappeared and eventually were replaced by other fine entrees, such as the chimichanga.

I realize that bats, birds and bugs eat mosquitoes, but come on; these little jerks are too tiny to be an important food source. A nice big bat taking out a mosquito is like an offensive lineman snarfing a single Dorito.

Anyway, there are plenty of other choices in nature’s buffet line; recent studies reveal that the atmosphere is chock-full of insects. If you’ve stepped outside lately without your hazmat suit, you figured that out without a single government research grant. But the studies found that it’s true even thousands of feet above the ground. Minuscule creatures are up there all the time, floating around without a care in the world except for the occasional Pratt & Whitney turbofan jet engine.

Meanwhile, their idiot predators are down here, content to eat whatever pops up in front of them.

As much as I like our barn swallows, they’re getting as lazy as house cats. When they hear us start up a mower, they rush out with the enthusiasm of firefighters at the sound of an alarm. As we mow, stirring up insects, the swallows wheel around us, swooping within a couple of feet of our non-beakproof heads.

Would it kill them to go out and look a little harder on their own? It’s not like I get to reach into thin air and grab a cheeseburger.

But when we finish mowing, the swallows retire to the barn, and the mosquitoes come swaggering out of hiding.

Man, it was miserable outdoors in August. I wanted to accomplish things to make the world a better place, but on Saturday mornings I would smack into wet-sponge-grade humidity, and then the possibly West Nile virus-carrying mosquitoes would close in, attacking in whiny little squadrons. The next thing you know, it’s Monday morning.

It would be a challenge to get rid of billions of mosquitoes, and we haven’t made much progress. Some years back, the Iowa State Extension Service pointed out that using backyard bug zappers actually made things worse; you wind up killing insects that eat mosquitoes, while the true enemy watches the show from the back of your neck.

Spraying poison throughout residential neighborhoods doesn’t seem quite right, either. Des Moines brought back its program this summer after suspending it for budget reasons, which proves that I’m not alone in my mindless hatred. Even though the city can’t afford various employees anymore, it manages to scrape up money for toxic fumes. But we should consider the health of children, who occasionally pass through the outdoors on their way to the next video game session.

Still, let’s not give up. Some would argue that all creatures are part of God’s plan, but when you’re swatting mosquitoes left and right, you wonder if this is really the final plan. Sometimes it feels more like a rough draft.