- May 26, 2010
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And He was there in the wilderness forty days, tempted of Satan; and was with the wild beasts; and the angels ministered unto him.-Mark 1:13
The Sabbath began on the planet of blue and green simply and modestly. Lights turned on and the time began; that of communion, of fellowship, of great rituals, chants and collective worship of a deity that might as well have not been there for all the exaggeration and excessiveness of adherence to churchgoing. But they continued in a constant attempt to validate themselves, in bondage to a necessary evil in their minds.
It was a stormy day, grey and white clouds overshadowing the sun that managed to peek through at times. It wasn’t the kind of weather you’d see in the spring and not worry about showers or rain at all, so most of the laity brought their umbrellas.
Lightning began to flash, the rain pouring harder as one flash rang particularly loud near the roof. A shadow manifested at the cross at the steeple, moving back to the middle of the roof, silent and unknown to those limited to those mortal lives.
The figure sat on the roof of the impressive sized chapel, looking up at the sky with a disinterested and almost blank gaze. He slowly closed his eyes, not sleeping, but contemplating the many places he had seen, the virtues and vices of the race created by the great Ineffable, called by many names, all unimpressive in describing the being that he himself knew all too well.
Satanel smirked gently, his teeth revealed slightly in a manic fashion as he reverted back to passive amusement as he watched the humans go along with this indoctrinated routine, this cyclical positive reinforcement of neurosis and psychosis that came about from someone that he respected a great deal and yet strongly opposed by his very nature as “the devil” that the humans tended to call him.
He walked down the precipitous edge where the two sides of the roof met, stopping at the edge, looking down as the humans continued to pour in. He crouched to get a closer look, though he certainly didn’t require it since he was already standing on top of a ten story chapel and in possession of vision precise enough that he could see the hairs on each churchgoer’s head.
He stopped as he sensed a new presence sharing the roof with him, his deep violet eyes narrowing as he stood up, brushing the dust off his jet black slacks, matched by an even darker black dress shirt, half buttoned and disheveled. Satanel was clean shaven in contrast to the beard his rival wore, a much more presentable appearance in contrast to the dark aura he gave off as a supposedly “evil” being.
“Didn’t think you’d be here Yeshua. Aren’t you supposed to be inside? After all, you are the main attraction and fixation of the sheep, aren’t you?” The dark entity ended the last statement with a grin that seemed only to make the righteously angry deity even more infuriated. Though the equally patient deity held its tongue and tried its hardest to suppress it or make it not as obvious.
“You know as well as I do that the humans don’t think I have to be in the church to be with them; you’ve read the scriptures as well as anyone. It’s remarkable that you come here on the day they go. It’s like you’re hinting that you might want to quit your job, even though it is equally as important as my own.”
The accuser shrugged it off as he scoffed, “Don’t try to make me feel better, negotiator. You’re the focal point of most of their arguments anyway. ‘Are you separate from God, are you God, are you below God, are you superior to God, are you crazy, did you even exist in history?’ It becomes quite exasperating. At least the humans aren’t fighting over me, they tend to agree with that ridiculous myth about me being God’s favorite and then rebelling and that I’m in a lake of fire. You on the other hand don’t always stay the same; Caucasian European, the beard and everything. There’s always the liberation theology or the progressive revelation ideas… And who can forget the claim that you’re an avatar or a bodhisattva?” He chuckled sardonically at Yeshua and turned to look at the sky again.
The focus of Satanel’s attacks smirked slightly and in a blink became clearly the opposite of the traditional portrayal he was before. One would initially think he was a Muslim more than anything like the historical portrayals of Jesus throughout time were. His hair was now worse than Satanel’s, disheveled and splitting all over, the bangs threatening to cover his eyes completely, deeply clashing with the deceiver’s neatly combed straight hair.
This was all merely for appearances and they both knew it, but Yeshua’s attempt at humor only worked slightly, Satanel chuckling once in sarcasm as he sat at the edge of the church, effortlessly tearing off the cross welded onto the roof and twirling it in midair playfully as Yeshua watched from behind. Satanel’s eyes relaxed slightly as he held the artifice gently and turned to see his proverbial opposite looking sympathetically at him, though he tried to hide that unconsciously. He moved the cross back to its place, fusing the metal back into the roof, though for all the humans knew the cross had always been there.
There was a long silence as the two listened to the introductions with their supernatural senses, both of them scanning over the followers with their own feelings, either of sympathy or disappointment. Yeshua silently observed marked differences in enthusiasm and agreement with the preacher at the pulpit, while Satanel slowly noted the skeptics and doubters in the congregation, marking them metaphorically in his mind as the “targets” he needed to later pursue.
“They are quite impressive when you think about it,” Yeshua spoke first, knowing Satanel was more the one to respond to something than start a conversation himself, “Mortal, tangible, temporary and overall very limited and yet they can perform amazing feats with the virtue of who they originated from. Even those who lack faith in us can create such amazements as antibiotics and knowledge of their very physical nature.”
“And yet they’ve maintained that mental dysfunction even over all the years of acquiring new knowledge. They all fight
with each other over if Elohim exists, if it’s necessary, if it’s coherent, if we can know it. The list goes on. The very revelation given to all those people that was supposed to serve as one of many guides to the humans, not the law as a whole, has now caused multitudes of problems, all of which the Ineffable knew of in the first place. And yet it created them…out of love…or was it merely to showcase this remarkable plan that we messengers know only a fraction of,”
Yeshua nodded slowly as he responded, “But you know the humans can perform all these good things, acts of charity, of love, of compassion even without Elohim, which is all the more of a testament to the intrinsic nature they possess, that soul of love, of autonomic will and yet a necessary consideration of others, knowing they are all in this together.”
The conclusion was met with raucous laughter from Satanel, making Yeshua sigh in exasperation, “What’s funny now? You know we can’t read each other’s minds; that would make this whole conversation pointless,”
Satanel grinned as he turned to face Yeshua, shifting from his depressive and misanthropic façade to a new mask of mania and euphoria at his own revelation.
“You really can’t believe that [bless and do not curse][bless and do not curse][bless and do not curse][bless and do not curse] without observing them and ignoring that they have always been self interested. The “Chosen People” killed the others to raise themselves above the pagans. They took on the idea of me and taught it to your followers to create a further elitism with me at the bottom rung, influencing everything but your idealism. Even Mohammed put a new spin on me, a freaking djinn, not even an angel in Muslim mythology. Every new system just tries to make itself seem better, to isolate itself, to overcome the previous traditions in their new wave of influence. The Mormons are the closest in accuracy, but that’s what they want to think. We’re not brothers, God’s not the father. We’re all just in a Council; that’s as close as they got to accuracy.”
The Sabbath began on the planet of blue and green simply and modestly. Lights turned on and the time began; that of communion, of fellowship, of great rituals, chants and collective worship of a deity that might as well have not been there for all the exaggeration and excessiveness of adherence to churchgoing. But they continued in a constant attempt to validate themselves, in bondage to a necessary evil in their minds.
It was a stormy day, grey and white clouds overshadowing the sun that managed to peek through at times. It wasn’t the kind of weather you’d see in the spring and not worry about showers or rain at all, so most of the laity brought their umbrellas.
Lightning began to flash, the rain pouring harder as one flash rang particularly loud near the roof. A shadow manifested at the cross at the steeple, moving back to the middle of the roof, silent and unknown to those limited to those mortal lives.
The figure sat on the roof of the impressive sized chapel, looking up at the sky with a disinterested and almost blank gaze. He slowly closed his eyes, not sleeping, but contemplating the many places he had seen, the virtues and vices of the race created by the great Ineffable, called by many names, all unimpressive in describing the being that he himself knew all too well.
Satanel smirked gently, his teeth revealed slightly in a manic fashion as he reverted back to passive amusement as he watched the humans go along with this indoctrinated routine, this cyclical positive reinforcement of neurosis and psychosis that came about from someone that he respected a great deal and yet strongly opposed by his very nature as “the devil” that the humans tended to call him.
He walked down the precipitous edge where the two sides of the roof met, stopping at the edge, looking down as the humans continued to pour in. He crouched to get a closer look, though he certainly didn’t require it since he was already standing on top of a ten story chapel and in possession of vision precise enough that he could see the hairs on each churchgoer’s head.
He stopped as he sensed a new presence sharing the roof with him, his deep violet eyes narrowing as he stood up, brushing the dust off his jet black slacks, matched by an even darker black dress shirt, half buttoned and disheveled. Satanel was clean shaven in contrast to the beard his rival wore, a much more presentable appearance in contrast to the dark aura he gave off as a supposedly “evil” being.
“Didn’t think you’d be here Yeshua. Aren’t you supposed to be inside? After all, you are the main attraction and fixation of the sheep, aren’t you?” The dark entity ended the last statement with a grin that seemed only to make the righteously angry deity even more infuriated. Though the equally patient deity held its tongue and tried its hardest to suppress it or make it not as obvious.
“You know as well as I do that the humans don’t think I have to be in the church to be with them; you’ve read the scriptures as well as anyone. It’s remarkable that you come here on the day they go. It’s like you’re hinting that you might want to quit your job, even though it is equally as important as my own.”
The accuser shrugged it off as he scoffed, “Don’t try to make me feel better, negotiator. You’re the focal point of most of their arguments anyway. ‘Are you separate from God, are you God, are you below God, are you superior to God, are you crazy, did you even exist in history?’ It becomes quite exasperating. At least the humans aren’t fighting over me, they tend to agree with that ridiculous myth about me being God’s favorite and then rebelling and that I’m in a lake of fire. You on the other hand don’t always stay the same; Caucasian European, the beard and everything. There’s always the liberation theology or the progressive revelation ideas… And who can forget the claim that you’re an avatar or a bodhisattva?” He chuckled sardonically at Yeshua and turned to look at the sky again.
The focus of Satanel’s attacks smirked slightly and in a blink became clearly the opposite of the traditional portrayal he was before. One would initially think he was a Muslim more than anything like the historical portrayals of Jesus throughout time were. His hair was now worse than Satanel’s, disheveled and splitting all over, the bangs threatening to cover his eyes completely, deeply clashing with the deceiver’s neatly combed straight hair.
This was all merely for appearances and they both knew it, but Yeshua’s attempt at humor only worked slightly, Satanel chuckling once in sarcasm as he sat at the edge of the church, effortlessly tearing off the cross welded onto the roof and twirling it in midair playfully as Yeshua watched from behind. Satanel’s eyes relaxed slightly as he held the artifice gently and turned to see his proverbial opposite looking sympathetically at him, though he tried to hide that unconsciously. He moved the cross back to its place, fusing the metal back into the roof, though for all the humans knew the cross had always been there.
There was a long silence as the two listened to the introductions with their supernatural senses, both of them scanning over the followers with their own feelings, either of sympathy or disappointment. Yeshua silently observed marked differences in enthusiasm and agreement with the preacher at the pulpit, while Satanel slowly noted the skeptics and doubters in the congregation, marking them metaphorically in his mind as the “targets” he needed to later pursue.
“They are quite impressive when you think about it,” Yeshua spoke first, knowing Satanel was more the one to respond to something than start a conversation himself, “Mortal, tangible, temporary and overall very limited and yet they can perform amazing feats with the virtue of who they originated from. Even those who lack faith in us can create such amazements as antibiotics and knowledge of their very physical nature.”
“And yet they’ve maintained that mental dysfunction even over all the years of acquiring new knowledge. They all fight
with each other over if Elohim exists, if it’s necessary, if it’s coherent, if we can know it. The list goes on. The very revelation given to all those people that was supposed to serve as one of many guides to the humans, not the law as a whole, has now caused multitudes of problems, all of which the Ineffable knew of in the first place. And yet it created them…out of love…or was it merely to showcase this remarkable plan that we messengers know only a fraction of,”
Yeshua nodded slowly as he responded, “But you know the humans can perform all these good things, acts of charity, of love, of compassion even without Elohim, which is all the more of a testament to the intrinsic nature they possess, that soul of love, of autonomic will and yet a necessary consideration of others, knowing they are all in this together.”
The conclusion was met with raucous laughter from Satanel, making Yeshua sigh in exasperation, “What’s funny now? You know we can’t read each other’s minds; that would make this whole conversation pointless,”
Satanel grinned as he turned to face Yeshua, shifting from his depressive and misanthropic façade to a new mask of mania and euphoria at his own revelation.
“You really can’t believe that [bless and do not curse][bless and do not curse][bless and do not curse][bless and do not curse] without observing them and ignoring that they have always been self interested. The “Chosen People” killed the others to raise themselves above the pagans. They took on the idea of me and taught it to your followers to create a further elitism with me at the bottom rung, influencing everything but your idealism. Even Mohammed put a new spin on me, a freaking djinn, not even an angel in Muslim mythology. Every new system just tries to make itself seem better, to isolate itself, to overcome the previous traditions in their new wave of influence. The Mormons are the closest in accuracy, but that’s what they want to think. We’re not brothers, God’s not the father. We’re all just in a Council; that’s as close as they got to accuracy.”