Looking at the glade a distracted eye would not know there was a conference going on. And it wasn’t only because the master of ceremonies always started his speech way before most guests had arrived. He was a stickler for punctuality, whereas most of the invitees knew to get there only after he had gotten the puns out of his system. He would always say them all, almost without context, amusing himself with the little jokes that everyone had heard a million times. How they lived in the sticks and didn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb. How he hoped they could stick around as he covered all the sticking points to see what sticks. How they must stick together, and have sticktoitiveness, so as not to get the short end of the stick or have to stick their heads in the sand. And lastly how he didn’t want to be a stick in the mud, and wished no one had to pick up sticks. The annual stickbug convention always started like this.
After the puns, the master of ceremonies would normally move on to an historical overview, starting with their very inception. How the gods had created them from scratch for fun, quickly lost sight of their creation, and then promptly forgotten all about it. How whenever the gods decided to destroy and remake the world no stickbug was ever consulted, how they weren’t warned about fire and brimstone nor invited into the ark, though they made their way there anyway, and that when it landed on the mountain every pair of stickbugs got out just as inconspicuously as they had gotten in. How humans had learned to make fire with them when they saw the sparks fly upward as a male and a female stickbug made love, and then feeding the flames with their cousins, the leafbugs. How some time later the humans began to use stickbugs for sortition, gathering a few of the same size and a shorter one, and using this last to select which of the humans would be killed to appease the gods, and only later to decide on a bunch of other, less important things. How stickbugs were used for divination, at first by choosing different sized and shaped ones, and eventually by carving special symbols onto their bodies, which the stickbugs took as a sign that these individuals should be their kings, and since those times, the same families and lineages presided, although they did not go so far as to carve each generation with the same symbols. The master of ceremonies, descended from this line of kings, would then also briefly speak of how humans have used stickbugs to play games, the rarest colored, blue, worth the most points, all the way down to the most commonly colored. When he spoke about this he would always make sure to point out that this division was purely human, and was not a true reflection of any stickbug’s worth. And this gave a good segue to the last portion of the historical overview, where the master of ceremonies would talk about the quite recent affair of scientific research and classification of their species by humans, especially their blunders and confusions. Now, every stickbug considered that the name the humans had for them and called scientific was unfortunate and ridiculous, not only because it was insulting, to be labelled an apparition, a phantom, an omen, but because tracing back the etymology of phasmatodea, it meant to bring to light, to cause to appear, and first and foremost, above all other concerns and activities, stickbugs were interested in going about unseen. But they always appreciated hearing about this because it just showed how stupid humans are, and this made them laugh. But this regular section of the conference, which unlike the puns was always a crowd favorite, was skipped too, and the master of ceremonies waited until the vast majority of bugs had arrived to hear him, because that year the convention was awash with controversy. Yet not even the host was aware that this would be the last convention in the history of stickbugdom.
Every time an individual stickbug was found by the humans, that individual would be banished from the society, if he wasn’t caught, since he had committed the cardinal sin, to be seen. This is what had happened to the ones who had been used to make fire, or to be used for sortilege, or even to play games. Only the ones used for divination were spared this fate, because stickbugs considered it a holy activity, and because the humans who found them for this purpose were sorcerers and shamans and priests, the most advanced category of humans according to the stickbugs. Scientists, on the other hand, were considered the lowest, and whenever it happened that the humans found a new type of stickbug, a representative from the specific family was obligated to make a presentation on how they planned to remediate this, in order to secure their existence going forward, since it was considered that every stickbug seen was a threat to the invisibility of the whole species. There hadn’t been a new case in many years, but this was not the reason for the controversy. The reason was that this year the impossible had happened, something that neither them nor their ancestors had even considered. The humans had found a new family of stickbug, and it was unknown, not only to them, but to the stickbugs themselves.
After explaining that the new family of stickbug had been found in australia, which everyone else considered more or less reasonable, and given that the representative of the hitherto unknown family hadn’t arrived yet, which was surprising in itself, for it meant that although its existence was unknown to the others, the propensity of the host for starting with a huge list of stale puns was known by them, or so everyone reasoned, he ended his opening speech with a question, How is it possible. Several hands were raised, so to speak, because obviously stickbugs do not have hands. One bug said, How do we even know about this, Our informant on the inside reported it, Did he give any details, He said he’d heard some rumors, And what are they, That it was a very strange stickbug, Strange how, He was twisty, not straight like the rest of us, and that’s why we never noticed any of his family, nor did the humans. A moment of ponderous silence. Another bug then asked, What does this mean for us, how will this change our way of life, to which the host replied that it was impossible to know just yet, they had to wait for the representative to arrive. Yet another bug countered, What difference does it make, it’s just another kind of stickbug, even if we didn’t know about them, we do now, the important thing is that we take precautions going forward. This caused a round of mumblings and whisperings until a braver stickbug, and a female no less, said, What kind of question is that, don’t you know that every time a new family is found our existence becomes more perilous, long gone were the days when humans walked around and barely noticed us, now there are whole societies dedicated to finding us, we live under a constant threat, thus our efforts need to be doubled, tripled, quadrupled even. Finally, an older stickbug, a representative of one of the first families of stickbug to be found by humans for divination, and one of the original clans to set up the annual conference, brought some much needed wisdom and calm, Brothers and sisters, this is obviously a mistake, it is impossible that there are stickbug families unknown to our institution, need I remind everyone this conference was set up thousands of years ago by our wise ancestors, gathering stickbug families from all over the world, so obviously what the humans found was some other kind of bug, which they mistaken for one of us, it’s not the first time either that they confuse us with others, but that is only a reflection of their ignorance, not ours, so there is nothing to worry about.
This seemed to set most stickbugs present at ease, but there was always one, perhaps inspired by the puns with which the conferences always began, even though that year’s edition had done away with them, who decided to be, what else, a stick in the mud, and this prickly one said, How can you be so sure, old man, all our lives are spent trying to remain unseen, not trying to find other stickbugs, especially not ones we didn’t know or even suspected of existing, a possibility that I can almost bet no one here before even considered, in short, we are just as blind as the humans, if not more, and furthermore, it is reasonable to assume that this other family of stickbugs does the same except better, and we have every reason to be weary if they were found, they probably are masters of hiding, to a degree we probably cannot even imagine, they could be around us even now and we wouldn’t know it. This caused an audible, collective gasp to rise from the glade, and it was at this point that another, timid voice, was raised, Excuse me, I’m very sorry, but I think I am here by mistake, I didn’t want to interrupt given the gravity of the situation. Of course, every year there was one, a stinkbug who had misread the signs. After excusing himself the poor misplaced bug walked away before anyone else said anything. They were bewildered, since none of them had noticed him, or even caught a whiff of his stink. Everyone was on edge.
The silence then became deafening, as no one wanted to break it, and then led to paranoia. They looked around to see if other bugs were present in disguise, perhaps spies, maybe even humans were hiding in the trees, watching them, waiting for the moment when they would pounce and catch them all, put them in glass cases to be looked upon forever, the worst stickbug nightmare. But most of all they wondered and worried about why the representative of the new family hadn’t shown up, and as they were questioning themselves someone else said, Maybe they didn’t get the invitation, Impossible, the notices are posted all over the world, how do you think the stinkbugs end up here every year, Well, then, maybe they just don’t care, and if you think about it, doesn’t it make sense, that they would want nothing to do with us, What do you mean, you are starting to sound like one of those traitors who quit the fellowship long ago and then went extinct, No, don’t misunderstand me or question my loyalty, I am a fellow patriot like all of you, dedicated to the cause of stickbugness, and I care for nothing else but the welfare of stickbugs worldwide, Then what are you saying, Well, isn’t this conference, valuable and noble as it is, an admission of failure, while we are so preoccupied with being seen by humans and other creatures, we never considered that we should also be hiding from ourselves. More murmurings, which quickly were getting out of hand and turning to loud ramblings. The master of ceremonies put an end to it, Nonsense, nonsense, in fact, more than nonsense, blasphemy, treason, an insult to our venerable institution, you young stickbugs should learn more of your history, and not disrespect our sacred traditions…
Before the host could finish his didactic diatribe, a deep, rumbling voice thundered across the glade, and at first no one knew where it came from, even as it said, You fools, you know nothing at all, look around you. Every stickbug present looked over his or her shoulders, figuratively speaking of course, for stickbugs have no shoulders, and remained confused, not just by the words themselves, but by the fact that it was such a deep voice, was it coming from the trees. Perhaps, but that made no sense, the trees rarely spoke. And as they were contemplating what kind of creature could have such a register, it spoke again, See this forest, what you mistake for tree and bush are in fact your cousins, almost every tree and almost every bush is a stickbug or several, it’s stickbugs all the way up and down, but you never considered this, you imagined that only straight goody two shoes like you could be stickbugs, but in fact we come in all shapes and sizes, and most stickbugs in the world are in fact quite twisty, not to mention knotted, and with thick bark. All your history is a lie, too. The gods did not create us, we are all made in the image of our forefather, the first stickbug. And furthermore the gods did not forget about us, but rather appointed us for all sorts of sacred purposes. To make the earth beautiful, for one. That was the first appointment. But then as the humans defiled the earth, we were elected to save mankind. The bodies of our largest cousins were used to make the ark that floated over the waters when the world was flooded. And much later our bodies were carved by the head of the gods himself when he decided to come down here, and he chose to be a carpenter precisely to work with us, and then to die on a cross made of what, you guessed it, stickbugs. But you have forgotten all this, if any of your families knew it to begin with.
And this congregation, this futile endeavor, is what happens when you know not your own lore. You spend all this time and energy for naught, you think you are so clever, and so much better than the humans, and yet you gather here, and where did you learn this stupid habit of institutions, don’t you see, you are just like them, stupid, stupid, stupid. We stickbugs were made to be free, to be our own, and that is the only way to remain truly unseen. Every time the humans discovered us it was because we were gathered in groups, and what kind of solution did your imbecile ancestors have for this, the stupidest one of all, to gather in large numbers every year in an even large group, always in the same kind of place, a glade. And we had to listen to all your incessant stupidity, and all your inane plans of survival, when all you needed to do was be yourselves, and make your own way.
Every member of the convention was speechless. They looked around embarrassed as all the twisty stickbugs, of all shapes and sizes, looked and loomed upon them scornfully. But then one of the younger, straight stickbugs asked, Excuse me mister treebug, is it okay to call you that, I hope so, but anyway, if what you say is true, if you are such masters of disguise, then how come one of you was found by the humans. The large treebug sighed before his deep, rumbling voice revealed the secret, He wasn’t, he chose to reveal himself. Another collective gasp from the glade, before the treebug finished, He gave his life of his own free will, so that you could know the truth, and end this pathetic charade. He is the progenitor of all stickbugs, large and small, straight and twisty, and he was once the head stickbug in the heavens, but he chose to come down here for this very purpose, to set you free. His name was Twig.
