My name is Prince Beelzebub, but my friends call me Prince B. The pimps in the eighth circle bequeathed me with this moniker some thirty years ago and it stuck. PrinceB at your service, my dears.
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. The 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 am delighted to be joining you. Moreover, I am delighted that you will be joining me. You see, almost since its inception, religion has been one of my favorite tools. It is wonderful when those who fancy that they are working against you are actually in your service. 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.
For the past fifty years or so, the extreme conservative right wing of evangelical Christianity was most amenable to my designs. I achieved this mostly through tempting them with politics. Religion and politics together create a veritable smorgasbord of Plutonian pleasures: power mongering, manipulation, exclusion, strife, forced categorization – I could go on forever! The Christian right has been one of my greatest allies for decades. Not even Tim LaHaye had the faintest clue.
Of late, however, the hard Christian right has lost the fabulosity that once made them so useful to me. They’ve lost much of their influence, even allowing that Obama creature to steal the presidency. I love my dear right wing extremists, but I tire quickly of humans without power and influence. They are a waste of time to me now, darlings. What’s a devil to do? Where would I find a group of Christians that would work with me while not embarrassing me? I needed to find a new Christian faction on the ascent. I needed a rising star in Christian media with a fresh, hip message combined with glamour and style.
What I needed, my darling beauties, was The Burnside Writers Collective.
Every other week, I will update you on BWC’s progress in executing my designs. However, since instant gratification is the very bread and butter of human existence, I shan't leave you waiting. Let’s revel together in a few things that you’ve already accomplished.
First, I would like to congratulate all BWC writers on instilling feelings of shame. Hardly a day passes when the BWC blog doesn’t make dozens of readers feel bad for being middle class. I thought only the Christian right had mastered this art, but you do it with aplomb. I learned centuries ago that guilt and shame accomplish next to nothing in the long-term while making one look tragically hip in the short. Ab fab!
And thank you for your excessive, um, I mean excellent coverage of popular culture! You present the illusion of meaning and value within, for which I cannot thank you enough. Very little serves my designs more than the pleasant malaise that washes over those who have been stimulated into passivity.
I would also like to give thanks for all the cynical challenges flung at your newly elected leaders. Hear, hear! Nothing inspires leaders more than skepticism and doubt before they’ve even gotten behind the desk. By all means, cut your celebrations as short as possible. Feeble requests for Democrats not to “screw up” would have brought tears of joy to my eyes if I had the ability to shed them.
Most of all, I want to thank you for from saving me from oblivion. With the demise of the conservative extremists, I thought I would be out of a job. The Burnside Writers Collective has changed all that. I’ll miss my frothing fundies, but I forget old friends and make new ones quite easily. Thank you for renewing my faith in the usefulness, wit, and glamour of Christians. All that’s left is to get that assh- er, I mean- celebrity Donald Miller to run for political office! Imagine what we might accomplish then!
See you again, soon. Until then, my darling beauties, I remain . . .
Your friend until The End,