A satire based on C.S. Lewis's "The Screwtape Letters"
My Dear Muckworth,
Ahhhhh................where to begin.......... It's not easy to think about the most difficult realities in life, much less talk about them. It would be a hint easier if you showed a hint of character that didn’t only think of yourself. But, alas, I cannot become renowned without dispensing the painful reality of the dark lands from which you were harvested. Nothing exists in its current state without connection to that from which it came. Understanding the current requires understanding what went wrong so long ago. The phrase “go wrong” is from the perspective of actual reality, not another of our propagandistic fabrications that views “going wrong” favorably.
It started with a meeting. The Book of Ways was on the table for all to read and examine. Everyone had a turn, could take as much time as they like, and could ask any question. Years were spent in discussion and debate. Our Master thought he had a better way. He felt that the book was not favorable to him and wanted something better. And he was told that he was welcome to try. Our side knew that their leader could use his power when and where he wished but wasn’t privy to what he wished. Thinking it was a trap, our master questioned if there was any information being withheld. As I received it, the roar that followed permanently altered our genetic code, specifically the parts that determine our strength and intelligence capacities, but the message was conveyed, “The Law of the Realm is on the table!!!” A speech was made, a proposal put forth, and a toast was raised. The other side remained stoic and fierce as if they knew something ours didn’t. Had we known then what we know now, all would’ve stayed on the other side.
The farm was a beautiful place, so I am told, full of sights and sounds that would swamp any sci-fi creation today. The water was able to heal. Flora could self-repair so quickly that one could never make more than two footprints unless running. Things are different now, disguised. Today they are convinced Redwoods are the tallest trees, fire is only a tool, humanity is now at its most technologically advanced state (though they couldn’t reproduce Saqqara), genes are static – a short list that might qualify them for primary school. In a culmination of decades of planning, our leader got the drop on the first lady, and she took the bait. There were some consequences such as changing our mobility from upright to horizontal. No one knew what to make of the other statement until the following week when the first man stepped on our poor leader’s head who was napping, and a fang was lodged in his foot.
From that point forward, the details were largely forgotten. A reality was agreed upon and shared by all that no one thought to question. The story of cycles continues to this day. We lead them to ruin, their side saves a remnant. We blind everyone, he finds an obscure nomad that was never on our radar who is not blind to lead everyone to sight. He gives commands, we help our patients break them. He redeems them, they quickly return to our side. Occasionally he would give someone sight but when the message is so far from what they are accustomed to or expecting to hear, they would reason themselves into innocence and persecute the speaker as an enemy. I prefer to call them “deafers” than “breathers” for they never listen. Their descendants do, however, and curse their father’s incredulence.
You name it and we did it. We felled kings, empires, started wars, scarred the earth, altered physical laws, changed the capacity of their temples, but somehow, someway, he would always make a way from the least likely candidate. Sell yourself? - join a lineage. Rebel? - change and return. Foolish and unwise? - submit and be welcomed.
When the king himself came to earth, we threw a party. We knew his weakness and how he would cave under pressure. Our tactics didn’t focus on him, rather, we focused on those around him. The quickest way to alter an individual is to alter the reality around them. His methods, however, left us dumbfounded. He didn’t do nearly anything we expected him to do. He chose an obscure and impoverished setting among the incapable. The rumors began quite early on as you would expect when things don’t go as you expect. Knowing your enemy is an elementary principle of warfare, which concerned us, for nothing was happening as we predicted. We had prepped an empire for global domination, and he entered the company of dumb sheep drivers and rank fish finders. Hard to get rid of someone on earth who created the earth if no one knows who they are or what they have done. The human’s pride and prejudice leads them to miss out on many realities until it’s too late. In this case, it was ours.
The council of war met daily to analyze, reallocate, and strategize on the next course of action. We went after the weakest of his followers and worked them hard. At times things were going well, at others – not so much. For example, the council decided that the best course of action to prevent a loss of power would be to keep a tight lid on things. We couldn’t have everyone flocking to him leaving us with no one to have say over. When he first touched the earth, we decided to go after the most honest, spirited, and sincere characters in the whole area. The reasoning was that if those with capacity were stopped, when he did try something, there wouldn’t be many capable to support his cause. Wish we would’ve realized sooner that he sees people on a different plane. This strategy went well until he started undoing our work and healing all of them.
We thought that his lack of formal education would prevent him from swaying the highest circles. Turned out, he wasn’t interested in those circles and a formal education would’ve hindered his subversive plan. We thought that his selections of hot-tempered, low-life renegades were mistakes. In hindsight, this was a severe miscalculation on our part. It was like he knew what we thought we knew about him and did the opposite just because he could. He didn’t have to take the low path, but it was deeply indicative of the unpretensive reality he is leading all things towards: mutually self-giving creative activity where love is law, yet no one thinks of it as law.
We tried to repulse him with the stinkiest beggar in Jerusalem, he healed him. We tried to mock him with the ugliest cripple for miles, healed him too. We ruined the life of a would-be famous orator with blindness who grew up being told he isn’t worth a spit, he cured him and told him he was. Few know the difference made by the spit of the one not worth a spit, as he gave site to multitudes of blind having received his. Everything we thought was wrong. Every effort of hindrance, he turned to his cause. Every calculation turned out to be a miscalculation. All work to build our kingdom only served to hurt it.
We finally turned the people against him to provoke a fight. He was silent. Like a lamb led to the slaughter. It was then we began to question everything. Why would he come to earth if not to fight? Why when the fight is before him, did he not bite? An emergency council was called for the entire realm to discuss the events and what to do next. Sourgrim called all to order, and simply said, “Does anyone have a clue what is going on?” though in slightly different parlance. All fiends were silent. He again bellowed, “How is it that everything we try is turned against us?” His question simply echoed off the dark walls dripping with grease, and other foul matter, with no response. Finally, in a more solemn tone, suspecting that our worst fears had come true, he asked, “What have we missed?” It was a dark and painful silence that set in, as all realized we had all been had yet no one knew how. The silence was finally broken by one of the more cunning researchers up front who stood up slowly and said, “Could there be more to ‘The Law of the Realm is on the table’ than we thought?” This sparked quite a flurry of discussion. Was there something he was not telling us? Was there another law that was not in the book? Is it possible for his nature to play such an evil trick? One suggested that there was another table. Another proposed that we had confused ‘table’ with ‘ladle’. A third gandered, “The ‘cawl’ for the realm was made by Mable.” This went on for some time until someone stepped forward and said, “I know we went through every symbol on every page millions of times, but did anyone ever check the table?” A gasp went up like never before. It is not possible! Could it be?
Our father sought an immediate audience with their leader as he has done many times before. He was asked, “What seek ye?” and responded, “Permission to examine the table with the Law of the Realm”. Permission was granted, and history took a dark turn for the worst. When the large book was moved, there carved in the table, was an ancient message, far older than the book. It took some time to decipher, as the script was not of Earth. It stated simply:
Crimes committed, course lost, The debt demands the tree. One Holy may give their life for such - A ransom. And they go free.
With that, ours returned to inform the assembly. The tension was high yet again. Some thought the enemy would do it, others thought not. Some thought it would be good, as we wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore if he were off the scene. Others thought everyone would automatically be on the enemy's side if he went through with it. Since we couldn’t decide what to do, we decided not to do anything until we knew what was going on. All our previous best attempts at thwarting his cause and supporting ourselves resulted in his cause growing and ours being routed. It is not easy to be in a catch-22 where if you don’t act you lose, but if you try to win you lose worse. But such is our reality, so get used to it.
At last, we agreed on what we thought might be going on and a plan to thwart it. When we returned to earth, they were mounting him on the tree. I often wonder if the seed of the tree from which the table was made grew into the tree that would fulfill it. Whatever plan was decided by consensus has been lost to history, as it was too late to do anything anyways. All we could do was sit back and rejoice that they had lost the commander. Some were on high alert for a possible counterattack, but most thought it not possible. It was a dark time of celebration on earth for a few days, as we reminisced of bygone campaigns, though a faint and constant rumbling was noted by all. There was nothing to fear. It was finished. Our plan that is.
Our indulgence was shattered when someone came up from the abyss reporting that things were out of sorts. It seems that there was a counterattack but not on Earth where we expected. No one dared to return to the place no one liked to visit. It was then that the constant rumbling grew louder. It grew feverishly but was shattered by laughing. No one knew from where. It was the kind of laugh very much like that of bystanders watching someone give themselves the justice they deserve albeit unknowingly. What frightened the guards, and broke the seal, were the reverberations of laughter from within the sepulcher. Few know how much and often their side laughs.
Our fate was sealed when his was broken. Not only did he avoid everything we threw at him, but he threw that and more back in return. If only someone had looked under the book, we might not be doomed to the miserable life we have and always will have. This is what happened. Your aspirations to join our school to escape losers were ill-founded, as you have only joined the same, though more sophisticated. We are all pathetic scoundrels, and I fear it will only get worse with time. Stay close and follow my lead. We aren’t only fighting the enemy; we are fighting for position and influence in our camp as well.
Your affectionate uncle, Wormwood
P.S. - If we are going to be in cahoots, you need to learn manners. I don’t appreciate how chatty you are at unfiendly hours of the morning. Your incessant ramblings on esoteric topics are a bane in my tail. We don’t talk about such things at breakfast. End of discussion.