Because it got so cold this winter, and windy, and the snow drifted over the town, the beetles either died of exposure or ate each other. Unfortunately many of the residents also moved away to avoid malnutrition and because they fear springtime, when the beetles might come back.

We don’t know what to do now. We asked the government for help before, but their beetle solution only made things worse. Alls we have to eat these days is snow in the winter and rain in the summer.

I know it’s risky and I’m asking with hat in hand, but is there any way you could send some of that foreign aid money this way instead of acrost the water to some godforsaken island? We’re tax-paying Americans here, what’s left of us. We could use some real dollars and some real help.

Thanks for your time.
Ronald Flint,
surviving citizen,
former Mayor,
elderly spokesman,
Crooked Corners

1:35 p.m. Renowned Crooked Corners socialite Monica Monet introduced what she guardedly referred to as an “unfortunate feminist observation.”

“I wonder,” she said, “if all this praise of the Cool Cricket isn’t inherently chauvinistic.” Gasps and grunts followed, but Ms. Monet remained standing, and once those who had fainted in their seats regained consciousness, she continued: “I say this because, according to science, only male crickets chirp, therefore leaving out the lesser sex. And by lesser, I mean, well, fairer, and by fairer, I mean, well, better… much, much better…”

Ms. Monet sat down then, quite flushed. Considerable mumbling ensued, and it was generally agreed after Bernie Lutz’s suggestion that further research be done to find out what sound–if any–female crickets make.

The most strident objection came from Dr. Hermes Truman, Esq., who said, “It is hardly the purview of this committee to question Orthopteran gospel. We are here to observe and celebrate His glory, not politicize or defame Him. It is not our fault that the prophet Kire Ilguah experienced His epiphany after meeting a male cricket and not a female woman.” The professor’s comment elicited huzzahs, but his wife promised to lecture him later.

2:45 p.m. Having lasted 45 minutes longer than scheduled, the meeting ended and everyone evacuated the boardroom so Sally Johnson could get to work vacuuming before the Thursday evening Twister tournament.

2:50 p.m. Henrietta Potstocker, Hospitality Chairperson, served coffee and lemon cookies in the Temple lobby. Dr. and Mrs. Truman bickered in the corner over cups of bitter decaf, while Ms. Monet claimed a headache and did not stay.

—

Quote from the latest issue of Crooked Corners Geographic: “Recent discoveries by paleoentomologists from 3.5-million-year-old deposits in Fond du Lac, Wisconsin, may reveal the deeper origins of the golden orthopteran’s unique stridulation, the quaint chirp created when a cricket rubs its left forewing against its upper right. Researchers culled microscopic fossils of an ensifera habilis, nicknamed ‘Chirpy Prime,’ from the molar of a saber-tooth bullfrog (incredibly, some creatures eat crickets). Radioisotope analysis and edumacated guesses suggest that the Cool Cricket was a lone species from day one, neither created nor evolved, but–like the Big Bang–an eruption of subatomic sublimity localized right here on planet Earth…”

—

A suggestion to add a twelfth tenet to the original eleven was vigorously shouted down by the congregation. Mr. Gustafsen later apologized for showing up drunk.

A reduction in trust-fund value has caused the Grand Temple in Crooked Corners to fall into disrepair, particularly its rice-paper steeple.

–

According to the prophet Kire Ilguah, the golden gryllidae appeared luminous in the moonlight and offered His divine revelations unaccompanied by other members of the orthoptera family. Therefore it is inconceivable to most TEO theologians that common grasshoppers and destructive locusts (with their inherent violent and dogmatic superstitions) exist as cousins to our refulgent denomination.

Whether to classify the TEO as a religion, cult or metaphysical parody is a decision not yet made by the IRS or students of taxonomy. In an essay published in “The Journal of Religion, Ethics and other Gibberish,” long-time TEO follower and honorary greeter Ronald Flint of Crooked Corners referred to the Temple’s expanding membership as a “Sect of One to Enlighten All.” But is it truly a “Sect of All to Enlighten One?” No, argues Flint, “That don’t make a lick of sense.”

Advanced in age and reclusive, the prophet Kire Ilguah has ascended to a deeper place of contemplation, and perhaps His journey best defines our congregation, not as a cult or school of thought, but as a means to an end, a way of life that gives meaning to the lost members of human society who, not so species-centric, wish to follow the crude treacle of an imaginary bug. As the Seventh Sacred Tenet reads: “Interrupt a stranger’s longing, and he will be fulfilled.”

Thus absent a prescribed definition, The First Temple of the Exalted Orthopteran becomes an individual ideal, a glorious testament to the Cool Cricket’s wisdom and a defiant chirp unto the world.