The Sun sat down with El Diablo himself and was surprised to learn he’s depressed.
Sun: What’s up, Big D.?
Satan: Don’t call me that. “Satan” is fine.
Sun: Ok, Satan.
Satan: I’ll tell you what the problem is: Hell is a thousand years ahead of schedule, and it’s depressing. Our Clock Management has been terrible. We didn’t expect people to be this gullible.
Sun: Mmm, nice to be over-estimated for a change. But isn’t being ahead of schedule a good thing? What more do you want?
Satan: Idiot…we want the same thing humans want: more time! When the Son of Man returns, we’re toast. And besides, without time, the misery we can enjoy is limited. All we get are brief spurts of anguish, torture, and fleeting death. You guys think that’s what evil is all about, but it’s actually small potatoes in the scheme of eternity.
Sun: Care to elaborate on that?
Satan: Eternity’s a long time, Sun. Think of the sheer delight of the killer whale when he gets to play with the baby seal before having it for lunch. The last thing the whale will do is crush the pup’s head or bite him in half. Do you put your steak in a blender and guzzle it down? Hell’s joy is stolen when the good die fast or young.
Sun: Aren’t we all going to die someday, even you?
Satan: Yeah, but when I die, it’s Lake of Fire and gone forever. When you die, some of you escape the frailty of those four-dimensional bodies and dance through eternity in Glory suits.
Sun: How did Hell get so out of control…er, I mean…ahead of schedule?
Satan: Our D.I.E. program did the most damage. Diversity without unity, Inclusiveness without warrant, and Equity of outcome instead of a level playing field. Add women’s studies and critical race theory, and you guys were at each other’s throats in 10 years. Now, not one in a thousand of you practices a liberal art or thinks for yourself for 30 seconds a day.
Sun: I didn’t know it was that bad. Is that all it took? Were there any other contributing factors?
Satan: One of my minions had the promising idea of introducing a virus with a %99.97 recovery rate. I thought it was weak but gave it a thumbs up, thinking it would generate chunks of short-term anguish for the minions of Hell to consume. They were delicious until your Mr. Global shut the whole world down?!
Sun: I thought you guys had direct control over Mr. Global?
Satan: Influence, not control, Sun; same as you and Him. But, they don’t worship us as you worship Him. One whiff of gravity, the speed of light, or rules that support the ladder they’re standing on, and they don’t pick up the phone.
Sun: So now the world is ending, and you’re running out of time?
Satan: Yep, it’s hard to enjoy a meal when your execution date is pushed up by a millennium.
Sun: Is there anything you can do to stem the tide? Forestall your execution date?
Satan: A third Great Awakening, maybe. Beyond that, I’m not sure what we can do. We could leave the playing field altogether, and the world would soon end on its own. Our run would be over.
Sun: Wait! Are you saying what I think you’re saying?
Satan: Yeah, bright boy, hence my depression. I’m being forced to work with the Enemy just to forestall the day of my own execution.
Sun: Wow, that’s weird!
Satan: You wanna see weird? Wait ’til the Son of Man returns, and you guys have to start thinking, working, and being nice to each other.
Sun: What’s so weird about that?
Satan: You don’t do those things, now, so you tell me.
Sun: You’ve got a point, there. Still, loving each other may be challenging but fun. In the meantime, what are your plans? Is there anything you can do to improve Hell’s Clock Management and extend humanity’s misery?
Satan: Chaos is hard to manage. Beyond the mayhemic sweet spot, it spills over into white noise and randomness, and that sucks for all of us. It’s a full-time gig reigning it back to anything a S.O.G. might call fun.
Sun: Maybe the Son of Man could give you some ideas?
Satan: There’s no talking with that guy. Every time we try to negotiate, he goes on and on about his Father, quotes the Bible, and calls us names.
Sun: Sounds like the right way to handle you and your minions.
Satan: Yeah? I notice you haven’t tried it.
Sun: “The Lord is my Shephard, I shall not want. He makes me lie down…”
Satan: Last interview you’re gonna get, Sun!
