The Agony of the Ages
A Meditation
on Easter
Jonathan H. Loux
Characters
Satan. He is
mature and philosophical. He is also timeless, being of any age. Satan is more
inclined to question the world.
Jesus. Also timeless.
But Jesus is less serious. He is not as inclined to question or examine things.
Jesus and Satan are brothers.
She. ‘She’ is
the mother of Satan and Jesus. She is timeless, like the rest. She could be the
same age as Jesus and Satan or even younger. Like she lives forever, which she does.
Narrator: Can
be a man or women. Gives occasional descriptions.
Setting
The throne
room of heaven.
Time
Timeless.
NARRATOR: “Jesus
sits in his high house looking down on the world. His Prime Minister, Satan, stands
by. Jesus speaks.”
JESUS: "Such
a wretched place. Why would anybody want to live there?"
SATAN: "You
know, you could intervene. Send an envoy? Establish a diplomatic mission?”
JESUS: “Why?”
SATAN: “Maybe
if we had a cultural exchange we could lift them up?"
JESUS: "Epcot
Center?”
SATAN:
“Global village.”
JESUS: “Peace
through understanding?”
SATAN: “Give
me a Belgian waffle.”
JESUS: “I
don't know. They seem so... I don't know. So backwards? So much evil?”
SATAN: “So
curious. So much potential?”
JESUS: “They
are made of clay and they seem determined to grind each other back into clay
again."
SATAN: "I
have an idea. Say we go to them. Say we give them a choice. You can either be
clay in the ground or you can be stars in the sky. Your choice."
JESUS: "You'd
go down there?"
SATAN: "Sure.”
JESUS:
“Royalty among the peasants?”
SATAN:
“Potter among the clay.”
JESUS: “And
what would you do?”
SATAN: “I'd talk
to them."
JESUS: "And
tell them what?"
SATAN: "Well.
Pick and choose. Which do you want? Here or there? Good or evil?"
JESUS: "That's
fucked up brother. Clay? Choose?"
SATAN: "Ya,
well. What are we gonna do?"
JESUS: "Nothing,
I guess."
SATAN: "I
suppose. Dad won't be happy."
JESUS: "So,
if we go down there and interfere with their lives, what good will it do?"
SATAN: "I
don't know. We won't know until we try."
JESUS: "You
are just so sentimental."
SATAN: "Ya,
so? You are just so spiteful."
JESUS: "What
do I care about..., what are they called? Carbon creatures? Mud people? Isn't
that what shit is made from?"
SATAN: "And
trees. And kittens. And people."
JESUS: "And
shit. And why do you care, anyway?!"
SATAN: "Because
they do. Have you ever stopped to hear them sing? Or pray? Or make love to the
day?"
JESUS: "Like
I would bother."
SATAN: "Well,
I've bothered. And I want to bother some more."
JESUS: "OK.
So what do you want to do about these human carbon singers? They’re just
automatons."
SATAN: "I
don't know. You're right. There's not much there. I just can't help feeling
that there is more there, there. Or should be. Or could be. I’m just sayin’.”
JESUS: “And
who’s just payin’?”
SATAN:
“Nobody.”
JESUS:
“Somebody always pays. And the payin’ gets to do the sayin’.”
SATAN: “Where
is the will in that?”
JESUS:
“Money. It has a will of its own.”
SATAN: “Oh.”
JESUS: “Ya.
Oh.”
SATAN: “There
should be more.”
JESUS: "Wait.
You’re being sentimental again. Really? They are just mud creatures! Barely
alive! And hardly aware. You know they are just autonomous creatures, right?
Robots? There is no there, there!"
SATAN: "Thank
you, Gertrude… I suppose you're right."
JESUS: "Of
course I'm right. Let's just plow under the whole clay swamp down… ‘there’ and
be done with it, eh Stan?"
SATAN: "Still..."
JESUS: "What...?"
SATAN: "Still,
what if? What if we gave the clay people a chance? One chance to be? To be a
living, breathing and thinking, feeling creature? Capable of love and laughter
and light AND awareness, too?"
JESUS: "And
how do you propose to do that? They're just dirt!"
SATAN: "I
don't know. Go down to them? Pick out two. Set them aside. Maybe in a perfect
setting. And give them a perfect choice. Give them a test. You can have this
perfect knowledge. But to do so you will lose this perfect bliss. Choose. Go
back to clay. Or come here to perfection. You stand in the middle. The road
backwards or forwards is long. And both impossible. But so is standing still. Choose."
JESUS: "Nice
speech, brother. And what part will you play?"
SATAN: "The
one I always play. The one with the awkward questions. The one who asks why and
why not."
JESUS: "You
always were an iconoclast."
SATAN: "I
never saw an icon I didn't want to clast!"
JESUS: "OK.
I'm in. What do we have to lose? Two clay blobs vs. infinity. Bring it
on!"
SATAN: "OK.
So, you up for a little wager?"
JESUS: "How
so?"
SATAN: "If
I get those clay creatures to come alive, you take them up to us. Here. In our
world."
JESUS: "Like
that's gonna happen. And if you lose?"
SATAN: "Pffttt.
I don't know. I'll eat them all?"
JESUS: "Deal!"
SATAN: "Deal!"
JESUS: "You
already lost."
SATAN: "How
do you figure?"
JESUS: "They're
roaming around, mindless."
SATAN: "Except
those two. Here. I will take them. And put them in a garden. I will call them
Adam and Eve. And the garden will be Eden."
JESUS: "So?
What good will that do?"
SATAN: "Watch.
I will make a garden of absolute delight. And a tree. Two trees! A tree of
knowing and a tree of forgetfulness. Two trees of fruit and the fruit of the
tree of knowing gives one an idea. An idea that one is mortal. That one is not
divine. Not part of the eternal. One is a creature of time. But it leaves, in
its aftertaste, the desire to be those things. And the other tree? The tree of forgetfulness?
Its fruit tastes of timelessness. Of not knowing past or future. Me or thee.
Only now. Only everything. Only eternity. But without any knowledge of
consequences. No knowledge of death. No knowledge of mortality. No realization
that there ever was a time when you were ‘Not,’ nor that there ever will be a time
when you are ‘Not’ again. No desire to be better. And I will tell the clay
people that they must not eat of the tree of knowing, for it will break them
away from their dumb existence of animal clay that does not know the difference
of day to day and that does not anticipate the future and knows not of its own
death. Choose. Bliss of ignorance or horror of knowing!"
JESUS: "And
if they choose?"
SATAN: "Then
you will guide them."
JESUS: "Where?"
SATAN: "Here."
JESUS: "How
will I do that?"
SATAN: "Improvise!
Make it up as you go along."
JESUS: "If
I agree to do this."
SATAN: "Which
you already have."
JESUS: "If!
What's in it for me?"
SATAN: "You
can create the next world."
JESUS: "Deal!"
SATAN: "Deal!"
JESUS: "Brother
Satan. You always were the clever one."
NARRATOR: “One
Year Later. Jesus and Satan are in the Timeless Office. Satan remembers a
conversation he had. About the little universe he made. About its significance.
About his significance.”
SATAN:
“Mother?”
SHE: “Yes?”
SATAN: “You
create life?”
SHE: “Yes.
That’s right.”
SATAN: “And
then the living destroy life?”
SHE: “Well,
yes. Though not exactly.”
SATAN: “Then
what exactly?”
SHE: “They
take the life I give to them and… use it.”
SATAN: “Use
it?”
SHE: “Yes.
Why give them life if you don’t want them to do something with it?”
SATAN: “But
they get it wrong. They destroy it!”
SHE: “Yes.
They do.”
SATAN: “And
you let them do it?”
SHE: “Let
them? What else can I do?”
SATAN: “Stop
them!”
SHE: “Stop
them?! No. I can’t.”
SATAN: “Why?”
SHE: “Satan.
You are a good one for asking questions. What’s right and what’s wrong. Why
this and not that. Who decides? You like prying up arguments and looking
underneath. Well, here we ask that question. Who decides? Us or them? Right or
wrong? Who decides what those are?”
SATAN: “But
it’s obvious. People are getting hurt. People are in pain. Can’t we intervene?
Can’t we stop them?”
SHE: “Stop
them? End the pain?”
SATAN: “Yes!
End the suffering.”
SHE: “I
could. But it would be wrong.”
SATAN: “Why?”
SHE: “Because
it would negate all that they are.”
SATAN: “What…?”
SHE: “All
that they dream of.”
SATAN: “But…?”
SHE:
“Everything that is precious and wonderful in their sight. If you take away the
pain and the suffering you also take away the wonder. The majesty. The worth
they put into everything that they do. It becomes meaningless. Without hope.
Without curiosity. Without any reason to strive for better.”
SATAN: “For
good or ill?”
SHE: “Yes.
For good or ill.”
SATAN: “It
seems so pointless.”
SHE: “Why
create them at all?”
SATAN: “I
don’t know. Why?
SHE:
“Because.”
SATAN: “Just
because?”
SHE: “Yes.
Just because. Because I can.”
SATAN: “And
what do I have to do?”
SHE: “You
have to supply the ill in the ‘for good or ill’.”
SATAN: “I
guess I can do that.”
SHE: “I know
you can.”
SATAN: “I can
be the bad guy.”
SHE: “Yes.
You can.”
SATAN: “If it
will make a difference.”
SHE: “Yes. It
will.”
SATAN: “I
don’t like it.”
SHE: “No. You
don’t.”
SATAN: “I
talk a lot, but I don’t really mean it.”
SHE: “Yes. I
know. But you have a talent. And a voice. And an understanding. You can see
around the bend. Around the corner. Around the place where most people don’t
look.”
SATAN: “Yes.”
SHE: “I need
that. I need someone to see. See the truth. Can you see the truth for me?”
SATAN: “I
can.”
SHE: “And can
you speak out? No matter the cost?”
SATAN: “I
can.”
SHE: “Burn
your bridges? And everyone else’s as well?”
SATAN: “Yes.”
SHE: “You
know your brother.”
SATAN: “Yes,
I do.”
SHE: “And he
means well.”
SATAN: “Yes,
he does.”
SHE: “And you
will watch after him?”
SATAN: “Yes,
I will.”
SHE: “Thank
you.”
SATAN: “Don’t
mention it.”
NARRATOR: “She
kisses him on the cheek.”
SATAN: “I am
your favorite, right?”
NARRATOR: “There’s
a gleam in his eye. He raises one brow and there is fire underneath. She raises
hers.”
SHE: “No
rivalries for my affection! I love you both equally.”
NARRATOR: “He
kisses her back.”
SATAN: “Thank
you, Mother.”
SHE: “Bless
you, Son.”
NARRATOR: “Satan
gets up. He has a lot on his mind. For once he wishes he was his brother, Jesus,
instead of the one with the hard task. Back in the control room, Jesus is busy
overseeing his new universe. Satan is absent mindedly glancing towards a dusty
table in the corner, unseeing, meditating, thinking. Jesus glances at him and
at the table.”
JESUS: “I
don’t know why I let you talk me into that.”
SATAN: “Hmm?
“
JESUS: “The
Human project.”
SATAN: “Oh,
that. What about it?”
JESUS: “Have
you seen what they do? How they behave?”
SATAN: “I’ve
had a few run ins with them. Salem. Torquemada. Auschwitz. The Crusades... Clowns...
As I recall Ingmar Bergman loved to play chess. I hate chess.”
JESUS: “No,
you don’t.”
SATAN: “Point?
So. How’s the terrarium doing?”
Long pause.
SATAN: “Alright.
What are you getting at?”
JESUS: “I’m
not happy with this project.”
SATAN: “No?
Why not?”
JESUS: “It’s…
weird.”
SATAN: “OK.
Dial up weird. File it under W.”
JESUS:
“Great. Can’t wait.”
SATAN: “It’s
pending. On hold.”
JESUS: “And
now? You came up with this jack ass scheme to put the mud people in a garden
full of snakes. And then when one of them sat on one and had his butt bit I had
to condemn them. Like it was my fault or something.”
SATAN: “Brilliant.
Yes!”
JESUS: “Brilliant.
No! Not the word I’d go with. More like Bull-“
SATAN: “And I
see you kept up your end of the bargain.”
JESUS: “More
like a game. Chess, remember?”
SATAN: “Ah,
yes. Your move.”
JESUS: “So
now. Instead of comfortably digging the garden beds and at least doing
something useful, the mud people are running around totally out of their
element, bewildered and lost.”
SATAN: “Nice
synopsis.”
JESUS: “Thanks.
It’s my expensive liberal arts education.”
SATAN: “Sorry.
I don’t know what any of those big words mean.”
JESUS: “Nor
does anybody else. I think he’s pissed.”
SATAN: “Who?”
JESUS: “Dad!”
SATAN: “Really?
I think he’s impressed. Just don’t tell him I said so.”
NARRATOR: “Jesus
puts his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands, momentarily taking them
off the controls of his great machine. It doesn’t seem to matter.”
JESUS: “There.
Right there.”
SATAN: “Hmm?”
JESUS: “Right
there! You can see from the beginning. Where they begin. Me reading them the
riot act. All those simple, though arbitrary rules. Then they choose the wrong straw.”
SATAN: “Tree.”
JESUS: “Whatever.”
And after that I had to show up again one second after it was too late to stop
them and recite all that scripted stuff about serpents and wives and toil and
curse everybody. Even the serpent. What is it you have against snakes, anyway?”
SATAN: “One
insulted me once.”
JESUS: “I
insult you all the time.”
SATAN: “Then
watch out!”
JESUS: “Then
the whole expulsion thing. And trying to convince Gabriel why he should stand
outside of a garden with a flaming sword. Yes, Gabriel. I can see that they can
just go around back and dig their way under the fence. Or climb over. No, I’m
not going to make it an electric fence. That’s why you’re here. Blah, blah.
Just do it. Your promotion depends on it, OK? ‘OK. Don’t bite my wings off!’”
SATAN: “Michael.”
JESUS: “Hmm?”
SATAN: “It
was Michael. Not Gabriel.”
JESUS: “Whatever.
Those guys over in accounting all look alike.”
SATAN: “They
are all alike.”
JESUS: “And
over there,”
NARRATOR: “Jesus
obviously does not care about guys in accounting. Satan puts on his glasses and
looks.”
SATAN: “What am I looking at?”
JESUS: “Civilization.”
SATAN: “OK.”
JESUS: “India,
Harappa, Ur of the Chaldees, Sumer. There’s China. China again. Egypt. They’ve
got an old, middle, and new kingdom, for some reason. Then Greece. Rome.
Byzantium. Persia. Something called the Holy Roman Empire. And that’s only on
one half of the table. The other side is even crazier. Jeez. Giant stone calendars?
Stone heads sticking out of the ground? Can’t they get it right?”
SATAN: “High
marks for trying.”
JESUS: “And
every one of them based on something they believe in.”
SATAN: “Now
where did that come from I wonder?”
JESUS: “Don’t
be evasive.”
NARRATOR: “Satan
bends over to take a closer look. He can see all of it, empire to empire, epoch
to epoch, spread out before him. He knows all of them quite well, but he
pretends not to.”
SATAN: “Look
at all of these civilizations. Architecture. Religion. Poetry. Theater.”
JESUS: “War,
famine, pestilence, death.”
SATAN: “Don’t
get our cousins involved.”
JESUS: “Wouldn’t
dream of it.”
SATAN: “Each
one different. Well, they all end the same way: Dull, tired, warlike, broke. They
go from raising their hands in praise to raising them in vulgar gestures. But
they started off unique. Except for this: They all believed in themselves. They
all believed in something greater than themselves. And they all believed that
they could become that greater thing.”
JESUS: “They’re
all wrong.”
SATAN: “So
far.”
JESUS: “Hey,
look. There’s one with a women waving snakes around. That should suit you.”
SATAN: “Ah,
the Minoans.”
JESUS: “Minoans?
I thought that was Kentucky.”
SATAN: “Hell,
no. I didn’t have anything to do with that lot.”
JESUS: “No?”
SATAN: “No.
They came up with the bright idea of putting poisonous snakes on themselves all
on their own. Don’t pin that one on me.”
JESUS: “Hey,
hey, hey!”
SATAN: “What?”
JESUS: “The
way they depict you in their art! Look. Here’s one with a blue woman wearing
skulls around her waist and swords in her hands; two, three, four… All six of
them!”
SATAN: “Makeup
for that shot took hours.”
JESUS: “It
doesn’t bother you? The way they portray you? It’s not the most flattering.”
SATAN: “Why
should it?”
JESUS: “They
got it completely wrong.”
SATAN: “Wrong
for whom? Or for what?”
JESUS: “Well,
wrong for wrong. You and I had a single bet and they are making it cosmic.”
SATAN: “It IS
cosmic.”
JESUS: “They
do keep at it. I’ll give them that.”
SATAN: “World
Wars. Peace in our time. Epic tales. Victories over oppression. The oppression
in the first place. Inspired art. Deepest depravity. Creating poverty. Enduring
poverty. Relieving poverty. Each and every one done in our names.”
JESUS: “And
wow. That Door guy was demented.”
SATAN: “Door?
Try Dante... Or Doré… You’re thinking of someone from accounting.”
JESUS: “Though
the cartoons are cool. Look at that one.”
SATAN: “Czernobog?
One of my favorite alter egos. Though I never liked the ones in red flannel
underwear.”
JESUS: “Too
scratchy?”
SATAN: “Czernobog
and Belobog. They say they are brothers.”
JESUS: “So
are we.”
SATAN: “No.
When we say we are brothers we mean family. Not perfect but good enough. Family
are the ass holes you can’t just walk away from at the end of the day.”
JESUS: “There’s
a Hallmark moment for you.”
SATAN: “When
they say we are brothers they mean contentious opposites.”
JESUS: “Seems
right to me.”
SATAN: “So
they fill the world with love and hatred and imagine that it comes from the two
of us.”
JESUS: “Because
of one bet over a garden?”
SATAN: “Yes.
Because of one bet over a garden.”
JESUS: “Seems
a bit extreme.”
SATAN: “It
gets better.”
JESUS: “Can’t
wait.”
SATAN: “Yes.
We’re Czernobog and Belobog, Seth and Osiris, night and day, death and life. Yin
and Yang. The eternal struggle.”
JESUS: “Don’t
we get a day off or something?”
SATAN: “Once
a year. Disneyworld.”
JESUS: “Splash
Mountain better not be closed.”
SATAN: “For
me, the Haunted Mansion.”
JESUS: “What
do we get out of it, anyway?”
SATAN: “We
are their gods.”
JESUS: “I’m
honored.”
SATAN: “And
if a god offers you something, anything. Don’t take it.”
JESUS: “And
this is from personal experience?”
SATAN: “Yes.
No. Well, yes.”
JESUS: “That
settles it.”
SATAN: “A god
is just a reification of what you believe in.”
JESUS: “Reification.
And I thought I had the expensive education.”
SATAN: “Correspondents
class.”
JESUS: “You
got off cheap.”
SATAN:
“You’re still the literate one in our tree house gang.”
JESUS: “No
girlz allowed!”
SATAN: “What
of the man who takes a log of cedar and carves one end into his god and uses
the rest for firewood, perhaps to make burnt offerings to that same god? Where
is his god? In the idol? In the firewood? Or in his own mind?”
JESUS: “Nowhere.”
SATAN: “That’s
not helpful.”
JESUS: “It’s
true.”
SATAN: “The
truth can be unhelpful.”
JESUS: “And
still true.”
SATAN: “They’re
looking for something more than truth. They’re looking for God. With a capital
‘G’.”
JESUS: “What
is Capital-G God, anyway?”
SATAN: “The
sum total of everything.”
NARRATOR: “Jesus
walks over to the dusty table and peers at it.”
JESUS: “I
suppose you’re going to tell me I’m looking at a universe with significance?”
SATAN: “This
is just a billiard game where the balls are labeled A, T, G, and C. The whole
thing is just a crap shoot. Not the genesis of the gods.”
JESUS: “I
thought you just said…”
SATAN: “Take
this one here. Casandra.”
JESUS: “Who?”
SATAN: “Casandra.
She’s a prophetess, actually. Not a goddess. She tells people things they do
not want to hear.”
JESUS: “No
money in that.”
SATAN: “She has a good pension plan.”
JESUS: “Which is?”
SATAN: “A short life.”
JESUS: “Lucky
her. Can she see the future or something?”
SATAN: “Kinda.
More like she can see through the haze of the present.”
JESUS: “So
she’s one of yours?”
SATAN: “Yup.”
JESUS: “With
the lies?”
SATAN: “Worse.
With the truth that bites.”
JESUS: “I’ll
bite. Who is she?”
SATAN: “The
one who sees. The one who feels. The one who knows. Fear her. Not because she
is bad. But because she can see into your soul.”
NARRATOR: “Jesus
shakes his head and goes back to his console.”
JESUS: “You
know, I’m trying to run a universe here.”
SATAN: “I’ll
get a mop.”
JESUS: “Har,
har.”
SATAN: “And
while you’re running your perfect universe of windup toys, courtesy of Newton,
I’ve got a little play universe that you agreed to be a part of in your spare
time, while you’re not managing your great big, important universe.”
JESUS: “Are
you done pissing in my face?”
SATAN: “Almost.”
JESUS: “Fine.
OK. What do I have to do to get you to shut up about your science project? How does
it run again? Turtles or something?”
SATAN: “No. Everything
is random, chaotic.”
JESUS: “And
it started with this big bong thing?”
SATAN: “Big
bang.”
JESUS: “If
that’s what you call it.”
SATAN: “Everything
has to start somewhere.”
JESUS: “I
guess. Behind every great universe.”
SATAN: “Is a
great crime.”
JESUS: “Sure.
Wound up like a clock.”
SATAN: “A
clock?”
JESUS: “Neat
and tidy.”
SATAN: “No
living things?”
JESUS: “OK.
How about an opossum.”
SATAN: “Opossum?
Hey, that’s my blood type.”
JESUS: “I’ll
remember that.”
SATAN: “You’d
better. I may need it someday.”
JESUS: “Then
this total random thing?”
SATAN: “Yes. Quantum
Mechanics. Schrodinger’s Cat.”
JESUS: “No
turtles but there’s a cat? Whatever. What’s it supposed to do?”
SATAN: “Do?
Well, whatever it wants to. It has a choice.”
JESUS: “Whatever
IT wants to?”
SATAN: “Ya.
There’s free will in there.”
JESUS: “I
thought you said it was random?”
SATAN: “And
exactly how would you expect free will to appear, anyway?”
JESUS: “Uhhh.”
SATAN: “Exactly!
It would not look mechanical, but it would not look completely random, either.”
JESUS: “Then
how would it appear?”
SATAN: “You’re
looking at it.”
JESUS: “Wait
a minute. Free will vs. random vs. mechanical vs. choice with a side of
prophetess?”
SATAN: “Yes.”
JESUS: “One
of those doesn’t belong with the others.”
SATAN: “Really?
Which?”
JESUS: “Your
Casandra with her Ouija board. If she is a prophetess and if you don’t know
what will happen next, how can she predict the future? If the world is mechanical,
you can just calculate where it will be at any moment. With free will and
randomness prophecy is impossible. With mechanics it’s redundant. With choice,
well. Choose away! You can only predict the future with complete accuracy in a
mathematical world.”
SATAN: “Good
point.”
JESUS: “And
look at them.”
SATAN: “Ya?”
JESUS: “How
they act towards one another.”
SATAN: “Ya,
again.”
JESUS:
“There’s too much room for cruelty.’
SATAN:
“Cruelty?”
JESUS: “That
seems to be all they do.”
SATAN:
“True.”
JESUS: “And
the little girl ones.”
SATAN: “Huh?”
JESUS:
“Little girls and little boys.”
SATAN: “Ya. I
suppose.”
JESUS: “Shoot
the women first.”
SATAN: “Huh?
What are you driving at? And why are you going off the road?”
JESUS: “A
spook service down there. In Israel? Mossad?”
SATAN:
“Israel? Sounds familiar.”
JESUS: “I
guess.”
SATAN: “I
think you’ve been there.”
JESUS: “Once,
I suppose.”
SATAN: “So.
What about women first?”
JESUS: “They
teach their troops, their ‘special forces’ which is just another word for
murderers. In an altercation, in a firefight. Shoot the women first.”
SATAN: “Why?”
JESUS: “You
tell me! I can’t figure it out.”
SATAN:
“Because women are the most vicious.”
JESUS: “How
so?
SATAN: “If
they’re the survivors there’s no contest. No rules. No compromise. Only blood.”
JESUS: “Isn’t
that sexist?”
SATAN: “Isn’t
that reality?”
JESUS: “I
thought they were the weak ones?”
SATAN: “Ya.
So does everybody else.”
JESUS: “Sick.
And why exactly are we saving these people?”
SATAN: “Only
save the best.”
JESUS: “Or
the worst.
SATAN: “And they
think I’m the bad one.”
JESUS: “You really
don’t know what that world of yours is supposed to do, do you?”
SATAN: “I
don’t want to know what will happen next.”
JESUS: “Or
how it works? Or doesn’t work?”
SATAN: “Not
my concern.”
JESUS: “Head
in the sands of time?”
SATAN: “It
beats being bored.”
JESUS: “It’s
not a bug. It’s a feature.”
SATAN: “Cutting
edge.”
JESUS: “So
you just put a universe to your head and pulled the trigger?”
SATAN: “Yup.”
JESUS: “Weird.”
SATAN: “Why?”
JESUS: “Why
make a world like that? It would be like making a watch that decides on its own
what time it is.”
SATAN: “You
prove my point.”
JESUS: “What,
that you want to build a machine but not even know what it’s supposed to do?
That’s wacked.”
SATAN: “Well,
it’s art.”
JESUS: “Art?”
SATAN: “Yes.
Art. You can’t engineer art and you can’t build a machine to make it. Art is
alive. It is about life. No one knows what art is.”
JESUS: “OK.
I’ll bite. What is art?”
SATAN: “Art
happens when you see death.”
JESUS: “You
just said art is about life.”
SATAN: “And
what’s life about?”
JESUS: “Doing
what you’re told?”
SATAN: “And
why does the flower stop smelling sweet when it goes to seed?”
JESUS: “Because
it’s been picked?”
SATAN: “Because
the sweetness has gone into the seeds.”
JESUS: “And
that’s art? Death?”
SATAN: “The
seeds are death. The sweetness is life.”
JESUS: “Poetic.”
SATAN: “You’re
over there making sure the jewels are oiled and the gears are polished in your
perfect machine.”
JESUS: “Things
run smoothly.”
SATAN: “And
what then?”
JESUS: “And
what else what then?”
SATAN: “After
that. What else does it do?”
JESUS: “What
should it do?”
SATAN: “Whatever
it pleases. What does your Mr. Machine do?”
JESUS: “Oh, look
right here. Here’s an example. I have a little door. And some people are
inside. And when these wheels turn, they come outside.”
SATAN: “And
they go Coo-coo, Coo-coo?”
JESUS: “At
least I know what’s going to happen.”
SATAN: “Then
why bother?”
JESUS: “What
do you get? All your teeth are broken and your gears haywire.”
SATAN: “I get
real Coo-coos.”
JESUS: “You
know what ‘Ostara’ would say about that, right?”
SATAN: “I
really don’t want her opinion. And she prefers to be called ‘Mom’.”
JESUS: “Maybe
we should have asked her first?”
SATAN: “Good
point.”
JESUS: “That
whole, what did you call it? Adam and Eve thing? In the looking glass land of
Eden? It’s just asking for trouble.”
SATAN: “You
gonna tell her?”
JESUS: “Not
me. You?”
SATAN: “Pfft.”
JESUS: “Let’s
just drop it at dinner. “
SATAN: “Sure.
Maybe we can make her think it’s her fault.”
JESUS: “Nice.
Think she’ll be happy?”
SATAN: “She’s
always happy. She’s got that whole Holy New Age Spirit thing going.”
JESUS: “Look
how they depict me! I always look like a wimp, surrounded by sheep and
children. I look like a pervert. And with a physique that couldn’t manhandle
butter.”
SATAN: “This
one looks better.”
JESUS: “Which?”
SATAN: “Over
there. The Fundamentalists’ Jesus. They’ve got you riding in at the end of the
world like Odin or something.”
JESUS: “Ooh.
Buff.”
SATAN: “End
of the world. Fire and brimstone. Wimp gets to kick ass and get the girl. Every
nerd’s dream. And I’m supposed to be the bad one.”
JESUS: “A
happy ending.”
SATAN: “Whole
civilizations plowed over into the depth of hell, which I have redecorated, I
hope you notice.”
JESUS: “Wicked!”
SATAN: “The
new model is circular. Nine in all.”
JESUS: “It’s
Pre-Modern.”
SATAN: “Don’t
make me blush. Really. Worlds tend to burst into flames when I blush.”
JESUS: “Good
to know.”
SATAN: “You’re
really getting into this, huh?”
JESUS: “It’s
your popsicle stand.”
SATAN: “I’m
having a special today. One for the price of two.”
JESUS: “I’ll
take three. So, what do they keep writing?”
SATAN: “Writing?”
JESUS: “Ya.
They’re all anal about putting things on stone tablets and spray painted on
walls.”
SATAN: “The
epics.”
JESUS: “Epics?”
SATAN: “Sure.
The Kalevala. Homer. The Vedas. The Mahabharata. The Lord of the Rings. The Bible.”
JESUS: “Why?
They are all contradictory.”
SATAN: “It’s
what’s important to them.”
JESUS: “And
that is… what, now?”
SATAN: “Meaning.”
JESUS: “I
thought you said your world was random? Free will? Cats and stuff? My universe
has more order in one sprocket.”
SATAN: “Funny,
that.”
JESUS: “How
so?”
SATAN: “From
chaos, order.”
JESUS: “Sounds
like a slogan on a bubble gum card.”
SATAN: “Or a
secret society. I created a world of gasoline thrown on a grease fire piled on
dynamite. And what do we see?”
JESUS: “What.
Boom?”
SATAN: “I
don’t know. But it’s a hell of a ride.”
JESUS: “You
frighten me.”
SATAN: “Good.”
JESUS: “That
thing you created. That Narnia place?”
SATAN: “Eden.”
JESUS: “And now
it is completely out of control?”
SATAN: “When
was it in control?”
JESUS: “Kill
it!”
SATAN: “Why?”
JESUS: “Because
it’s… I don’t know. Creepy. Who knows what it will do next? What if it gets
loose or something? I don’t want it anywhere near my stuff.”
SATAN: “Out
of control, hmm?”
JESUS: “Yes!
I think I’m going to have nightmares.”
SATAN: “And
if it were in control?”
JESUS: “Then
it would be fine. Predictable.”
SATAN: “Controllable?”
JESUS: “Yes!”
SATAN: “Mr.
Puppet?”
JESUS: “Mr.
Reliable.”
SATAN: “Like
one of your sprockets? I don’t know. I kinda like the ‘roll the dice and throw
caution, and the dice, to the wind’ part of it. It’s exciting.”
JESUS: “I
don’t want exciting.”
SATAN: “OK.”
JESUS: “OK? I
hate it when you agree with me.”
SATAN: “You
were expecting grand debates? Rebuttals? Siege walls, maybe?”
JESUS: “A
little push back, maybe.”
SATAN: “Not
so fast. There has to be something we can come together on. Otherwise it’s just
arguing for arguments sake.”
JESUS: “What
other sake is there?”
SATAN: “The sake
of our little experiment, of course. Our little world.”
JESUS: “Sea
monkeys? You call that a world?”
SATAN: “OK.
Our little wager. Our bet, remember?”
JESUS: “Right.”
SATAN: “So.
What’s next?”
JESUS: “Beats
me. It’s your roulette table.”
SATAN: “And
it has it all. The fear, the fallacy, the ferocity, the finality.”
JESUS: “Any
other F’s you want to throw at me?”
SATAN: “One.”
NARRATOR: “Jesus
ignores him. He wants to change the subject.”
JESUS: “’Beer
is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy’.”
SATAN: “Wine.”
JESUS: “Hmm?”
SATAN: “He
was talking about wine. Later revisionists changed it to make Franklin more
approachable to the masses.”
JESUS: “Lies?”
SATAN: “Marketing.”
JESUS: “Praise
Edward Bernays.”
SATAN: “And Anheuser-Busch.”
JESUS: “Brilliant.
Is there no lie too big? Or too useful? That’s right up your alley!”
SATAN: “It’s
not really a lie.”
JESUS: “What
do you mean?”
SATAN: “Well,
the whole concept of truth and lies is based on a false premise.”
JESUS: “Which
is?”
SATAN: “That
there are such things as truths or lies.”
JESUS: “You’re
getting weird again.”
SATAN: “But
what if the statement, ‘The sky is blue,’ is not the point?”
JESUS: “Right,
right, right. I remember philosophy 101. Hegel, Kant. The Di-electrics.”
SATAN: “Dialectics.”
JESUS: “Ya.
That’s what I said. Pluto. Weird Al Yankovic. All the greats.”
SATAN: “Sure.
And the man hanging from a cross right over there. Where’s the truth in that?
His executioner did ask, ‘What is truth?’”
JESUS: “Meaning?”
SATAN: “Franklin
was a construct. Once history got hold of him he ceased to exist as a real
person. He was not a man; he was the image of a man, easily shaped. And he knew
how to do it to himself, too. In France he was worn and weary from the prairie,
complete with leather britches and coon skin hat. He exuded Rousseau’s Noble
Savage. Country yokel. The Preacher and the Philosopher. Wise in the Ways of
the World. He knew that would make him a celebrity, it would ‘Play in Paris,’ which
he could use.”
JESUS: “OK.
Spin. Disinformation. Misinformation. Outright lies. The ends justify the
means. Politics. You know, the stuff you do best? Your job. Is that it?”
SATAN: “The
short answer: Yup. The long answer: Well, Yup. When he was in London he dressed
in a silk suit, jacket, and powdered wig, just like he needed. The English
weren’t romanticized by that frontier stuff. Parliament was more about the
practical and the politic than the poetic, so he used the tools at hand in an
appropriate manner. When that failed he went to a different work yard with a
different set of tools and different overalls. And so the means produced the
ends.”
JESUS: “Sounds
like manipulation.”
SATAN: “Or
impersonation.”
JESUS: “But
not sincerity.”
SATAN: “Sincerity.
If you can fake that you’ve got it made.”
JESUS: “Gandhi?”
SATAN: “Groucho.”
JESUS: “Cynical.”
SATAN: “Successful.”
JESUS: “So?”
SATAN: “What
is a cynic, anyway?”
JESUS: “Some
kind of asshole?”
SATAN: “That,
too.”
JESUS: “And
what else?”
SATAN: “A
cynic lives in the underbelly of humanity. An optimist lives in the air above.”
JESUS: “And
which is closer to reality?”
SATAN: “Exactly.
French Franklin or British Franklin? Which was the truth? Which the lie?”
JESUS: “Both
of them?”
SATAN: “Now
you’re getting it! Every forced smile is a lie. Or a presentation. Or a
precedent. Or a persuasion. Or politics. But mostly it’s practical. And when
one smiles while sticking a knife in your back, where is the lie? In the smile
or in the knife?”
JESUS: “In
the back.”
SATAN: “You can
look at it as truth or falsehood. Or you can look at it as satire.”
JESUS: “Satire?”
SATAN: “Yes,
satire. What’s the difference between satire and truth or lies?”
JESUS: “There’s
a difference?”
SATAN: “More
satire.”
JESUS: “I
could just say, Fuck you.”
SATAN: “Now. There’s
satire.”
JESUS: “Pulitzer
prize premium.”
SATAN: “You
should study some of their philosophies. They twist themselves into Gordian
knots trying to justify their contradictions.”
JESUS: “Why
bother?”
SATAN: “Why?
So they can avoid those contradictions, of course. Deny them. Just don’t see
them. Jesus is the good one. Satan is the bad one. One is responsible for
everything good in their lives. The other for everything bad. When they do
something it’s commendable. When someone else does the same things, it’s condemnable.
When it benefits them it’s understandable. But in no case is it avoidable… Or their
fault. And they hate me most of all.”
JESUS: “Why?”
SATAN: “They
hate me because I remind them of themselves.”
JESUS: “Sounds
like a copout.”
SATAN: “I don’t
mind, I kind of like it.”
JESUS: “You
would.”
SATAN: “It’s
a mirror they look in. If they don’t like what they see they assume it is a
reflection of someone else.”
JESUS: “That’s
pretty dishonest.”
SATAN: “Every
mirror is a two way mirror. They see themselves and they see others, as well.
If they don’t like what they see in the mirror, they just assume it belongs to
the others.”
JESUS:
“That’s brutal. But I have to admit it’s kind of clever.”
SATAN: “Every
insult they hurl tumbles back into their own faces.”
JESUS: “Can’t
they just take responsibility for themselves? Or admit that in that ‘random’
universe of yours both good and bad things are equally possible?”
SATAN: “Where’s
the fun in that?”
JESUS: “What
does that buy them?”
SATAN: “A
kind of security. They can make sure that they benefit while being insulated
from their own actions.”
JESUS: “Such
as?”
SATAN: “A
warlord kills a whole village; men, women, children, and sets fire to their
outhouses; to set an example for the rest. He then goes home and upbraids his
son for throwing stones at the neighborhood cat. A government enslaves foreign
countries turning them into banana republics producing rice, or oil, or opium, or
child prostitutes; or the greatest product of tyranny: Death. Then tells its
citizens they are ‘exceptional’.”
JESUS: “Hypocrisy?”
SATAN: “Humanity.”
JESUS: “It
takes a pillage.”
SATAN: “To
raise an atrocity.”
JESUS: “How
do they get away with it?”
SATAN: “Their
stomachs, mostly.”
JESUS: “Huh?”
SATAN: “Or
the stock market.”
JESUS: “I’ll
gladly pay you Tuesday for an atrocity today?”
SATAN: “You
got it.”
JESUS: “I’m
not sure I like this world of yours. Got another?”
SATAN: “I
wish.”
JESUS: “So.
Go on. Tell me more about your time share.”
SATAN: “The
warlord’s son lives in luxury. If there was no warlord, he might be one of
those peasant villagers being slaughtered by some other bully on some other
block peddling some other baggage, so he looks the other way. The citizens of
the empire might be outraged until they find out that a fairer system would
result in their guacamole costing $200.00 a pint. Or that they would be the
banana republic to some other corrupt empire. So they pretend they don’t see.
Or shoot the messenger. Plus wouldn’t you rather be exceptional that
responsible?”
JESUS: “But
if they all feel that way?”
SATAN: “They
all lose.”
JESUS: “What
does that make all of them, then?”
SATAN: “A
Hypocrisy of Humans.”
JESUS: “Hence
the pleasant bedtime stories? When I do it it’s OK?”
SATAN:
“Rock-a-by baby.”
JESUS:
“They’re basically asleep. And dreaming.”
SATAN:
“Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily…”
JESUS: “Well,
wake up!”
SATAN: “Ah.
That’s my job.”
JESUS: “Some
philosophy.”
SATAN: “They
all are.”
JESUS: “And
you? What do you tie your Gordian knots out of?”
SATAN: “Me? I’m
a pragmatist.”
JESUS: “Meaning?”
SATAN: “I
just deal with what it is, not what I want it to be. And try not to believe
self-hypnotizing stories.”
JESUS: “Sounds
like another word for cynic.”
SATAN: “I
guess it does.”
JESUS: “So
where does that leave our little mud people?”
SATAN: “They
worship you.”
JESUS: “They
worship me!? This is your test tube.”
SATAN: “What’s
worship, anyway?”
JESUS: “Is
this a trick question?”
SATAN: “They’re
all trick questions.”
JESUS: “OK. I
don’t know. Twenty five cents in a kettle at Christmas?”
SATAN: “Worship
is what you value.”
JESUS: “Value.”
SATAN: “Sure.
It’s what you assign ‘worth’ to.”
JESUS: “Clever.”
SATAN: “Your
life. Your family. Your retirement portfolio. Your country. Your self-image. A
model railroad enthusiast worships railroads. An NRA member worships guns.
Anything.”
JESUS: “Elvis
worshiped his hair.”
SATAN: “And
peanut butter and banana sandwiches.”
JESUS: “What’s
that got to do with me?”
SATAN: “Ah.
Any of these things can become your god.”
JESUS: “And…”
SATAN: “And
your god is something you choose to represent your worship.”
JESUS: “And…”
SATAN: “And a
lot of people chose you to represent the supreme image of all that they
worship.”
JESUS: “Well,
ain’t I special?”
SATAN: “Yes.
You ain’t.”
JESUS: “That’s wacked. And what about you? A lot of
people know who you are.”
SATAN: “True.
But they don’t associate me with worth. At least they don’t understand what
worth I give to them.”
JESUS: “What
worth is that?”
SATAN: “I
make them uncomfortable. I kick them in the butt and make them move.”
JESUS: “That
never makes one popular.”
SATAN: “I
grab them by the shoulders and shout ‘WAKE UP!’”
JESUS: “Life
of the party.”
SATAN: “Ah,
but there would be no party without me. I make them decide.”
JESUS: “Like with
those two polls in the briar patch?”
SATAN: “Trees...
Garden... And, yes.”
JESUS: “And
then they do nasty things like worship bananas and murder whole villages and
turn Franklin into French Fries? That’s supposed to be better?”
SATAN: “Something
is nasty. Until it is necessary. Then it is normal.”
JESUS: “In
whose eyes?”
SATAN: “Whichever
eyes are looking.”
JESUS: “But they seem to hate you!”
SATAN: “Worth-ship.
Hate-ship. They’re both the same.”
JESUS: “They’re
not the same.”
SATAN: “OK. I
give you that. They are not. But you must have both to succeed.”
JESUS: “Two
sides of one coin?”
SATAN: “Eh,
hmm. If you like. But unlike a coin you CAN have one without the other. If all
you do is see the worth-ship of the world, but not the hate-ship you will be
ill prepared to defend that worth. If all you see is the hate but not the
worth, you will have nothing to live for and will turn into that thing you
hate. At the heart of it, that’s the choice. Embrace and defend the thing you
worship or become the thing you hate. In any case the truth is in you.”
JESUS: “Clever.”
SATAN: “I
have my moments.”
JESUS: “Hate…
and what?”
SATAN: “Hate
is foolish.”
JESUS: “So…
love?”
SATAN: “Love
is even more foolish.”
JESUS:
“Sounds hopeless.”
SATAN:
“Unless you are a child.”
JESUS: “And
then what?”
SATAN: “Then
they’re both the same.”
JESUS: “So.
Which did they do?”
SATAN: “Well,
both of course.”
JESUS: “What
does that mean? Which side won?”
SATAN: “Side?”
JESUS: “Sure.
We had a bet, after all.”
SATAN: “Oh.
Well, it’s hard to tell.”
JESUS: “You’ve
put more into this than me.”
SATAN: “Well,
sorta.”
JESUS: “Sorta?”
SATAN: “I
gave them a push. I posed for photos. I was a model. I gave them a lightning
rod to attract their hate. I haunted their pumpkins at Halloween. I hid under
their beds and made creaky noises. They were the ones who ran with it.”
JESUS: “And
burned their witches?”
SATAN: “They
did that themselves.”
JESUS: “Was all
that really a good idea, do you think?”
SATAN: “Well,
I’m still thinking.”
JESUS: “Not
that it matters. I just want to know who won!”
SATAN: “Maybe
they did.”
JESUS: “And
what do you mean by that?”
SATAN: “They
seem to have become something more than their beliefs.”
JESUS: “So?
It’s just a Petri dish. We can sanitize it anytime we want. Here. Pass the
alcohol.”
SATAN: “I’m
not comfortable with that.”
JESUS: “Why?”
SATAN: “They’ve
become something different. We owe them.”
JESUS: “Owe
them! What? What does the potter owe the clay?”
SATAN: “Nothing,
I guess. Until the clay becomes a potter, and that potter goes on to find more
clay and to make pottery of his own and dedicate it to us.”
JESUS: “And
all in the house that Jack built, right? I think we’re done with this world.”
SATAN: “Sure.
Pass the Bunsen burner.”
JESUS: “OK.”
SATAN: “I was
being sarcastic.”
JESUS: “Duh.”
SATAN: “When
you went down there.”
JESUS: “Yes.
I remember.”
SATAN: “That
virgin birth.”
JESUS: “Ya.”
SATAN: “Forty
days in the wilderness.”
JESUS: “Uh-huh.”
SATAN: “The
temptation.”
JESUS: “You
shone.”
SATAN: “Preaching
to the masses.”
JESUS: “Inspired.”
SATAN: “Walking
on water.”
JESUS: “A
parlor trick.”
SATAN: “Feeding
the masses.”
JESUS: “Welfare.”
SATAN: “Raising
the dead.”
JESUS: “If
you say so.”
SATAN: “Your
disciples.”
JESUS: “Bros
night out.”
SATAN: “Crucifixion,
death, resurrection.”
JESUS: “Check,
check, check. And your point?”
SATAN: “You
made a difference.”
JESUS: “I
made a bargain.”
SATAN: “Seriously?
That’s all it was to you?”
JESUS: “Come
on. Don’t make me say it.”
SATAN: “You
enjoyed it and you enjoy it now. You would not like it if they changed. That’s
because we each play our parts. I play my part. You play yours. We each rely
upon the other. They rely on us. Both of us. We’re Janus, but with two faces
facing each direction with a total of four. And both sets are both good and
evil. And not just us. Men and women play their parts. Children play their
parts. And governments theirs. And poets and dreamers. Playwrights and
politicians.”
JESUS: “Cabbages
and kings?”
SATAN: “Rogues
and rascals.”
JESUS: “Mutt
and Jeff?”
SATAN: “They
are all Jesus and Satan.”
JESUS: “Pity
them.”
SATAN: “We
all play our part. And if one of us didn’t? Well, we’d be a different people,
wouldn’t we?”
JESUS: “And
any happier?”
SATAN: “Oh,
most would say yes. They’d be plenty happy if all of the evil and pain and
suffering in the world just went away and everything ran nicely. So they think.
But then they’d just be machines, like your perfect universe over there. Mr.
Machine… Or Mr. Reliable-Puppet.”
JESUS: “There’d
be no suffering.”
SATAN: “There’d
be no nothing. Just robots sitting on clouds all day, playing harps.”
JESUS: “Bo-ring!”
SATAN: “So we
have this, instead.”
JESUS: “My
lai?”
SATAN: “Michelangelo.”
JESUS: “Polio?”
SATAN: “Polio
vaccine.”
JESUS: “Crusades?”
SATAN: “Confucius.”
JESUS: “Hypocrisy.?
SATAN: “Hippocrates.”
JESUS: “Wehrmacht?”
SATAN: “Wagner.”
JESUS: “Mickey
Mouse?”
SATAN: “OK.
You’ve got me there.”
JESUS: “Well,
it was a fun game, while it lasted.”
SATAN: “It’s
lasting.”
JESUS: “Sure.
So I found it interesting. You win.”
NARRATOR: “Jesus
is thoughtful. And puzzled. And wants to change the subject again.”
JESUS: “What’s
that one? Atlantis?”
SATAN: “No. That
one’s Australia. Atlantis was last week. We cleaned that one up, remember?”
JESUS: “Oh,
yah. I’d rather not give them names.”
SATAN: “Don’t
name your food?”
JESUS: “Precisely.”
SATAN: “Eden.
This one’s called Eden.”
JESUS: “And
what did I just say?”
SATAN: “Adam.
He’s the big one. Eve is the smaller one.”
JESUS: “Yes,
yes. I remember all that. And trees and cats, bananas and snakes-but no
turtles.”
SATAN: “And
they have been filling the whole world with their own kind.”
JESUS: “Never
suppress a bad idea.”
SATAN: “Or
encourage a good one.”
JESUS: “How
can they make more of themselves? By taking mud pies and waiting for them to start
talking? Oh, look. That’s gross! They’re just shitting them out of their asses.
How’s that any different, actually. Now that I think of it. Shit’s shit,
wherever it comes from.”
SATAN: “Technically
only one of them is shitting them out of her ass.”
JESUS: “What’s
the other one do?”
SATAN: “You
don’t want to know.”
JESUS: “Where’d
you get the idea for them, anyway?”
SATAN: “Here
and there. I used what was at hand.”
JESUS: “Used
what was at hand?”
SATAN: “All
art is autobiographic.”
JESUS: “Wait.
You made those little shit creatures as models of Mom and Dad?”
SATAN: “In
the very image of.”
JESUS: “No
way! I want to watch this. I can hardly wait for the drama tonight when the
shit people hit the fan!”
SATAN: “You’re
a jerk, you know that?”
JESUS: “Everyone
knows that.”
SATAN: “And you
just want to end it, don’t you, no matter how interesting you found it?”
JESUS: “Can
we?”
SATAN: “No.”
JESUS: “Then
why did you ask?”
SATAN: “To
see what you would say.”
JESUS: “Look.
Fine. I understand. I concede your point. You win. Whatever it is you wanted to
do in that window box, garden thing of yours, it’s over.”
SATAN: “But
you don’t understand.”
JESUS: “What?
And don’t say something cryptic like ‘anything’ or ‘everything’ or some shit
like that.”
SATAN: “Can I
say ‘something’?”
JESUS: “Something
works. What ‘something’ don’t I understand?”
SATAN: “You
don’t understand. They are part of us. They ARE us. No, more horrifying, we are
they.”
NARRATOR: “Jesus
looks surprised. He goes over to the table and takes a deeper, vaster look at
it, taking it all in as if for the first time. “
JESUS: “Holy
shit! No.”
SATAN: “Holy
shit, yes. Literally. It is holy even though it is shit.”
JESUS: “You
mean?”
SATAN: “Yes.
Our little wager? Our little garden? Our little Tellurian terrarium? It’s not a
science project. It’s for real. It’s not a machine. It’s life.”
JESUS: “I didn’t
think it would be that interesting.”
SATAN: “You’re
looking at the world, brother. Fragile, painful, drawn out, continent to
continent, age to age, cruelty to ecstasy, cowardice to self-sacrifice,
cathedrals to the gods, huge monuments to great deeds, humble crosses by the
side of a road; each marking one tragedy, each a single tear; massacre, murder,
mothering, mystique; faith and despair; candles in the hurricane; memory and
forgetfulness; a finger tracing art in the morning dew; a single prayer in an
unresponsive universe; a worshiper gazing upwards in wonder, and a night full
of stars; and… And something else. Something totally incongruous with the rest.
Something unbelievable. Something foolish in the minds of the wise. Something
hidden from the angels. Something familiar. Something that looks…just like you.
A reflection drawn over the agony of the ages. What you see is hope.”
JESUS: “Mom
knew you were doing this, right?”
SATAN: “Happy
Easter, brother.”
