Not being an insect lover, I saw this as a chance to reconcile my distaste of them and try to REPENT! for the hundreds of insects I've brutally killed in my lifetime.

So to build a place of worship, I must first understand the ways of the insect. Recently I had been walking in my neighborhood and happened to look down at the right moment and saw a frenzied revival taking place on the ground. There were hundreds of tiny black ants swarming and gyrating, praising the powers that be. What spiritual abandon these little guys showed. What was at the heart of this revival? Rotting fruit.

Hmm. Clearly this was the way to lure my congregation. But rotting fruit does not a pretty cathedral make. So what was it about the fruit that was inducing such wild worship? The vivid colors? No, it was a rather unappetizing brown. The specific shape of the fruit? No, it didn't really have a shape, more a pile of mush. The smell? Surely not. And then...Eureka! I've got it! The sugar. Now I that I knew how to call upon on the Gods of the Insects, I had a plan.

First, I had to gather the building materials for my cathedral. I spent a few weeks perusing the candy aisles of a variety of stores. Having not been a child for some time now, I'd lost touch with this whole other world. I forgot what it was to be excited about eating green slime or marshmallow in the shape of ice cream. Some of the more exciting finds: Harry Potter's cockroach clusters, a green slug lolly pop (aka, The Preacher), and tye-dye fruit rolls ups.

The entire cathedral is made of various forms of sugar*, including plenty of corn syrup and artificial coloring and flavoring. The main structure is sugar cubes, the floor sugar crystals. The most delicate construction was the stained glass windows, cut from rolls of fruit roll-ups and embellished with black frosting. The whole thing is a hot sticky mess.


Diabetic nightmare or place of worship? I let the insects decide.

So that now that step 1 of the instructions was complete, on to step 2: Lure them into it. I found a suitable spot under some trees and set up. At first the insects were a little camera shy, but eventually they couldn't resist the hypnotic spiritual ambiance. I set up the cockroach clusters near the entrance to pass out pamphlets to unsuspecting passers-by. This paid off, but in the end, perhaps I left them at their posts a little too long as on day 2, they were unceremoniously licked and carried off by the mob. Such dedication!

Here is a video of the congregation worshiping from Day 1:


Day 1 pictures:


Day 2 pictures:


You'll notice, there is only a trail of slime where once the Preacher was. I found this worrisome. Would the insects fall back upon their hethen ways without the guidance of the Preacher? Why had he left? Was he forced out? Did he lose the faith? A search party was sent out and found him in nearby ditch, dazed and naked.

How quickly the great can fall. His only remark in his defense was, "The Sugary Spirits made me do it!"

Day 5:
As all great revivals get going over the weekend, I decided to leave my congregation in peace for the weekend, free to worship fully without fear of their antics ending up on TMZ. But when I returned on Monday, I was shocked to discover the cathedral was gone. I searched the surrounding area and noticed that where the cathedral stood was now a booming colony of ants. But wait, was is that white material in the upper left corner?

It's sugar!! They had enjoyed it so much, they wanted to make it a central part of their new colony. But lacking the architectural skills of the creator (ahem), most of the wonder was lost when it was buried. I dug up a little bit to confirm my theory and sure enough, there it was, a shadow of its former glory.


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*NOTE: It's a shame that the gummies are aligned with EVIL sugar and so could not be included in this righteous revival. I had no idea the world of gummy stretched so far as to include their own military branch (army men, jet fighters, sharks, lobsters, cherry clusters...). If only the gummies would renounce their allegiance with Evil, I could have used this veritable empire of gummy mysteries in my construction. But not wanting to scare off the congregation of decent, morally sound insects, I chose to keep the cathedral a gummy free zone.