Tuesday, December 16, 2008
The image above has resulted in nonstop celebration in Hell. Well, “celebration” in as much as it is possible down here. Parties mostly consist of drinking Schlitz malt liquor and hitting manure covered golf balls at one another’s heads. The One We Do Not Name never lets us get away with having too much fun, and he confiscated all the good beer eons ago. But I digress.
That Christians are praying to a capitalist idol is quite the personal victory. It took me centuries to convince Satan that a syncretism between Christianity and capitalism is far more valuable than such prosaic efforts as demonic possession, famine, disease, war, and the occult. This little worship service to the new and improved Golden Calf should leave no doubt in his jealous little mind. Evangelical Christianity has become synonymous with free market capitalism, and the amassing of individual wealth has taken on the quality of a religious calling. I am so bloody clever.
I regret that I am unable to update this forum with more regularity. I am spending most of my time trying to transform the idiots at the Burnside Writer’s Collective into something useful. They’re droll and frumpy, but they have shown me possibilities for the Emergent Church I had not hitherto imagined. If you find yourself pining for me here, just visit the Burnside blog and revel in the reading of my precocious musings. I’ll return here when I please. Until then, my darling beauties, I remain . . .
Your friend until The End,
Saturday, November 22, 2008
I've done it again, my dears. All my colleagues, including Satan himself, are flatulent with envy. Once more, I've managed to get humans fumbling all over each other in full distraction. And it was so simple. All I had to do was facilitate a delicious little referendum in California called Proposition 8. It changed the constitution in California to define marriage as exclusively between a man and a woman. The fact that it passed, however, is not the reason for my revelry.
I could give a tiny little rat turd about whether or not members of the same sex are permitted to wed. Monogamy in any form is for dullards who care nothing for glamour and stimulation. I despise it in all its iterations. No, darlings, Proposition 8 is such a success because of the monumental amount of distraction it provided, not to mention the money that was wasted. It was an exercise in pure excess, and I just adore excess.
Honestly, all the Prop 8 hullabaloo has been the source of much amusement down here. It makes both those who support and oppose it look like lobotomized chihuahuas. That ridiculous book which Christians fetishize contains 6-8 verses about homosexuality, depending on how one reads them. This stands next to over 2000 verses about poverty, yet Christians run around acting as if all The One We Do Not Name cares about is men who iron their pants spending the rest of their lives together in a feng shui condo.
Those who oppose Prop 8 are almost as preposterous. Get gay humans talking candidly about monogamy and you'll find they see it much as I do -- a big fat joke. Less than 5% of gay couples avail themselves of marriage when it is legal. The average duration of those marriages is 18 months. Everyone in the gay community knows this, yet they weep and wail and gnash their teeth about Proposition 8 more than the residents of the first three circles of Hell.
My favorite part, my dears, is the money. Both sides spent a combined 73 million dollars on campaigns for and against Prop 8. That's almost 500,000 wells in Africa. My dears, that's 88,844 spa day trips in Carmel! Oh my precious pumpkins, if we ever threw parties down here, we would have a magnificent soiree in honor of yours truly for my success on Proposition 8.
Of course, it's not fair, darlings, for me to call it my success. All I really did was clear any obstacles for the grand show down between the far right and far left. Proposition 8 was a human invention. You remarkable hornless homunculi almost make me envious sometimes. Almost.
I can hardly wait to see what you come up with next. Until then, my darling beauties, I remain . . .
Your friend until The End,
Saturday, November 15, 2008
My name is Prince Beelezebub. Four decades ago, the pimps in the 8th circle began calling me “Prince B” and it stuck. Now even Satan calls me PrinceB, when he bothers to show up for meetings. Thus, my beauties, you are welcome to do the same. PrinceB, at your service.
I've been waiting a long time for this. Waiting for the time when Satan lost interest in all but the most sensational aspects of public life. From time immemorial he had his hand in everything, and he was quite the micromanager. Over the past couple centuries, however, he’s become not only increasingly irrelevant, but less motivated. If something doesn’t involve death or the occult, he has no interest. He stays mostly in Africa now, being particularly fond of poverty, genocide, and disease. And, since he just can’t bear to live without constant adoration, he insists on working only in cultures that take witch doctors and demonic possession seriously. The fool. I care far more about the attention of major media outlets than voodoo shamans. To his credit, he’s kept Africa out of the spotlight. Nobody cares about what happens there because Satan’s work in Africa lacks panache. Famine, disease, and poverty are sentimental and quaint, but hardly relevant to our work in the West. All important duties fall to me now, and I daresay they’re in more capable hands. You are in more capable hands, darlings. No thanks required, dears, for it’s my pleasure.
I’ve reserved this spot on the charming World Wide Web in order to share my designs with you. Indeed, I wish for you to become part of my designs. I welcome your input and participation. Underestimating human beings was one of my boss’s most common errors. He oft thought you needed to be possessed by one of our Plutonian Team Members to be of any use. Sometimes he fancied tempting or oppressing you a worthwhile endeavor, but we now know it was a complete waste of your talents. You can produce far more in your own right than anything we might inflict on you against your will. I apologize for past abuses that Satan and, to be honest, myself perpetrated on you. They resulted from a lack of appreciation borne of ignorance. I have much more respect for you than I did in, say, the 9th century, C.E. Therefore, I most earnestly desire both your suggestions and participation in this exercise.
What exercise is that? Yes, of course, how silly of me. I am over-fond of listening to my own loquacious ramblings. My apologies. If my superior is guilty of being facile and melodramatic, I am too oft esoteric and vague. Without further delay, I shall at once make my intentions plain.
My task, and indeed the primary responsibility for most of our team members for the last millennium or so, is capitalizing on the peccadilloes of the West – all those things that make American and European culture so endearing and amenable to our designs. There are hundreds of things that come in handy when it comes to regaining control of your world. Our most reliable and long standing vices come from the distortion of capitalism by greed: power-mongering, materialism, vanity and subjugating all morality and virtue to the almighty dollar. Satan was always partial to dictatorship and fascism until I showed him the potential of capitalism in the right hands. Greed has been our mainstay for centuries, but never has it permeated a culture to an extent that it’s almost surprising when we don’t find it. And greed gives way to all sorts of delights such as infidelity, vanity, hypocrisy and self-centeredness
But you probably already knew this, my dears, so I shan’t go on about it. Instead I will now introduce you to the primary topics of this forum*. Here we will discuss the most promising areas of innovation for expanding my -- excuse me -- our Kingdom:
DISTRACTION. Never have human beings been so preoccupied with the oblique and banal. It is as if there’s a race to dumb-down humanity until the only necessary diversion is a reality porn show hologram projected beneath the eyelids. This leaves a wide berth in which our team can work. I’m so relieved to be past the time when art, music, literature and “good” drama were popular. Regardless of what you might have heard, Bacchus was actually a servant of The One We Do Not Name. Mark Burnett and Ryan Seacrest work for me.
POLITICS. It was once necessary for us to work very hard at sowing dissension and polarizing those who disagree into warring camps. We frequently had to resort to poisoning or Watergate style espionage in order to create true enmity between political opponents. No longer. The Western world has become adept at fostering ideological animosity and reducing the most complex and sensitive subjects into black and white issues. Debates over abortion, homosexuality, abstinence education, and other such hot button moral issues are so far removed from the complex reality of the matter that I have hardly anything to do but sit back and watch. Such gladiatorial posturing over morality brings us to our most fruitful and exciting area of emphasis . . .
RELIGION. Gone are the days when The Church was our greatest earthly enemy. It is now practically our ally. Unfortunately there are still those annoying few who remain steadfast in their absurd devotion to The One Who We Do Not Name and his Bastard Son, that feckless thug who’s foot has been on my neck since before the dawn of time, curse that excremental, holier-than-thou tyrant and his slimy fu-
A thousand pardons. What was I saying? Oh yes – religion.
More than anything, this shall be a forum for examining the ways that we use The Church to serve our purpose. I don’t want to reveal too much of my workings in Christianity, for that would spoil the fun, the surprise you shall receive each time you return to this website. For now, suffice to say you will revel in savoring the delicious irony that institutional Christianity now does as much to turn people away from The One We Do Not Name and his bastard Son as it does to bring them closer. It is always good to have an ally, but it is much more entertaining to have an unwitting ally that fancies itself your enemy. Discussing this situation in its many manifestations will be our primary objective.
I’ll update this forum when I please. I'm very busy and cannot pass up the opportunities this Age has set before me. You can most often find me keeping watch over those post-adolescent Christian bed-wetters at The Burnside Writers Collective. I provide quality control for their blog (they fancy me their ally, the dullards). Future entries will be shorter, as my witty prose is an acquired taste. I sincerely hope that you will join me and invite your contributions in the comments section.
Until next time, my darling beauties, I remain . . .
Your friend until The End,
P.S. This is the second version of Beelzeblog. The original appeared on Typepad until about two years ago, when the meat-puppet who types these words was wrested from my hands by The One We Do Not Name. I am delighted to have him back under my power. Other pretenders using the name "Beelzeblog" have surfaced in my absence, much like The Bay City Rollers, The Monkees, and The Partridge Family attempted to fill the vacuum left by The Beatles. But have no doubt, darlings, this is the original, returning to you in your hour of need.
*Forgive me if I don’t use the term “blog.” An old lover of mine goes by that name. Blog left me for Astaroth 226 years, 5 months, 11 days and 4 hours ago. The mere mention of the name slays me, so please avoid its usage.