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I unscrew the metal caps that cover my welding tanks and a rain of creepy-looking black insects falls onto the ground.

They land in a pile, squirming and wriggling themselves upright so they can run away. I get a good look at them and the pincers sprouting from their backsides. The Insect Identification Laboratory at Virginia Tech's entomology department Web site later informs me that they are Forficula auricularia, "common earwigs," a harmless European import.

I muse on the ubiquity of insects; anyone you talk to has a bug story. Whether it's Lacie's camel crickets watching her batik, Todd's mutant ladybugs or the spindly spiders that ruled my last house, bugs are everywhere.

Which is, of course, the general definition of the word "ubiquitous." In the 1500s, it carried a controversial religious connotation that caused a lot of grief. The Ubiquitarians believed the body of Christ was everywhere at once, while the medieval Church believed it was only present in the Eucharist.

These days the word has lost the theological-political flavor and generally means "something that is, or seems to be, everywhere."

Speaking of ubiquity, Blacksburg -- like many other hip and with-it towns -- has been exhibiting some ubiquitous art lately.

Our town may be a victim or a happy recipient, depending on your point of view. Some of this art is just downright ugly and incomprehensible. Some is pretty clever, containing all kinds of oddball cultural references. But why would someone risk up to five years in jail and a $2,500 fine just to leave his mark?

I am not talking about the Hokie birds that have been popping up everywhere like colorful plastic mushrooms after a heavy rain. They are imposing their own ersatz folk art on the landscape, but that's a topic for another day.

I am talking about graffiti.

Hunter S. Thompson, Wesley Willis, Janet Leigh in the shower scene from "Psycho," Leatherface from "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre," President Bush in jail with the word "Liar" on his chest, a policeman pointing a gun, Frankenstein, a multicolored Cyclops.

I've spotted, or been told of, all these strange characters and more painted on or stuck to walls, bridges and electrical boxes all over town. There are also lots of ugly tags in unreadable fonts, people leaving a trail of their initials everywhere they go. There is the "brick" graffitist who chalks the label "brick" on, yes, bricks downtown. There is the surreal picture of a face with an open mouth and a squirrel, with the caption, "Eat Live Squirrels."

Many of these pictures are done with stencils, which allows for speed and a lot of detail, down to HST's cigarette holder and the bruise on Wesley Willis' forehead.

For those who don't know: Willis was a schizophrenic Chicago musician, known for greeting people with a head-butt.

The elaborate Cyclops and the tags are done freehand. Frankenstein and a large image of a face titled "Lady Killa" are actually large prints glued to walls like playbills.

Jerry Bowyer, crime prevention sergeant for the Blacksburg police, kindly explained the penalties for graffiti, which is considered vandalism -- defacing public or private property. There are two levels of punishment, based on the cost to clean it up.

If it's less than $1,000, the act is a Class 1 misdemeanor, which can be punished by up to 12 months in jail and/or up to a $2,500 fine.

If the cost is more than $1,000, the crime is a Class 6 felony (the lowest level of felony), punishable by one to five years in prison and/or up to a $2,500 fine.

With such serious potential repercussions, graffiti is a risky business.

Blacksburg Town Manager Marc Verniel explained that Blacksburg doesn't have a dedicated fund for dealing with graffiti, so it's hard to estimate how much abatement costs the town. He said it's a problem that "comes in waves," popping up and then subsiding.

If building maintenance workers spot some on town property, they'll clean it up as part of their routine duties. If it's on an electrical box, it's the electric company's problem; if it's on a school building, it's the school's problem, and so forth.

People I've talked to about graffiti have wildly differing opinions.

Some call it guerrilla art and point to Jean-Michel Basquiat and the popularity of Banksy, an English graffitist whose stenciled works are so well done that businesspeople are thrilled to come to work and find one on their building.

Some talk of cities that have legal spaces for graffiti.

Some vehemently denounce it as a crime that hurts everybody.

Some people are philosophical and say it is a portal to the subconscious of a city.

Some are more ambivalent. When the business one friend works at gets graffiti, he cleans up the ugly ones but might let the cool ones stay a while.

It's the same with insects, which many people find frightening and ugly, and others find fascinating and beautiful. As the proverb says, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Unless it's an earwig.

Pris Sears grew up in Florida, lives in Blacksburg and works among Virginia Tech's computers.