"A DEVILISH DEFENSE"
I watched a BBC documentary about the Westboro Baptist Church. I had a few laughs; found it boring at times; but most significantly it prompted me to write this post: a defense of the usefulness of Satan as a theological caricature. Those of my readers who examine Smoke and Bounce superficially may disdain my employment of him when I make arguments. Why would I in the first place? After all, S&B is directed primarily at freethinking radicals or potential ones -- people who would reckon themselves as such would not surprise me if they affirmed they'd rather get drunk with him than with Jehovah. Satan relishes life; so why not? In fact, why not buy Satan a top-shelf drink if you were flush? -- The answer? Because you couldn't get the guy plastered in the slightest if you fed him a handle of Southern Comfort intravenously! At last call he'd leave you blacked out and puking on the floor to go drag racing down Main without you, before catching some Z's on the flight to go count cards at a Moscow casino. Your fraternity to him is his triviality. There's not a thing you can teach him; he doesn't care for your jukebox selections in particular; he most certainly does not need you as a wing-man under any circumstances. You'd have done very well to follow his stock market tips, but you were too inebriated that night.
Satan is and always has been the smartest and most knowledgeable man in the world -- and by far the most logical, too. The one and only thing that God knows that Satan does not know is you -- who you are. Now, at the same time (to clarify), Satan can count the number of hair follicles on your ridiculously simple body faster and more enthusiastically than God can. Satan is the savant par excellence. And what's more, he is more ethical than God. You can smell his cologne, too; it is exquisite. And he's a well-dressed gentleman who cusses only in direct quotation, anecdotally or philologistically. Satan is a role model, not a monster. Frankly I'm not at all surprised that he cursed God and left Paradise. Satan wanted order, not the demented anti-meritocracy of Heaven. He also wanted an end, and a purpose. To him, the Creator was an insufferably temperamental baby only a (nonexistent) mother could love. Why stick around to serve a blitheringly idiotic Captain of chaos?
Let's diverge. On a personal note: From my prefrontal cortex to the bowels of my gut, I can't STAND you atheist humanitarians. I love Jesus because he suffered, died and slipped into historical irrelevance just as you fools all will on an individual basis, right along with your blithe, conceited rage against natural order. You advocate and activate more fanatically than any devil could what is obscenely grotesque and unsustainable. You are fat, gluttonous perverts who've dragged even me into your sterile freak-show, and my own self-respect would disgust you if you appreciated it. I don't like you, and I don't want to be introspectively confused like you. You say with a forked tongue that you believe in the world (a world in which death is the decider) and that you believe in your race, yet you have not the slightest grip on your mortality! To you, the printing press is an endless funeral procession; everything is a tragedy; nothing is a triumph; a life well-lived is numbered in orgasms rather than revelations. So in effect, you're not afraid of death, you're afraid of life. You exist as you breathe in a state of death, of mindless, antiseptic disease and murder and destruction. If you were afraid of death, you would enjoy life; you wouldn't need a physician to tell you what vitality is -- instead you would know it, treasure it and consecrate it to your soul.
Or do I have it backwards? Is anti-nature really nature? Does Earth suck the blood of the Sun? If chaos is eternal, maybe it really is order. Maybe evolution is suicide. Maybe nations and cultures are homosexual orgies. Maybe drug addiction should be an Olympic sport. What do I know?
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