In Too Deep: The Philosopher and the Devil

Hello and Welcome to In Too Deep, where I over-analyse a certain section of pop culture.

This is different to my normal blogs since it’s a way for me to overcome my writer’s block. I was watching a documentary about Satan and it really did bring up some good questions. So naturally I decided to write a satirical blog taking the piss out of the Devil (since who’s really on his side anyway). I hope you enjoy.

Once upon a time there was a Philosopher. And that would be the end of the tale if one were to follow the events of his life, since it was long and failed to get to any sort of point at the end. Kinda like most of his discussions really.

No what was interesting was what happened after his life had finally ended. As he drew in his last breath and the world started to go dark, followed by a rather bright light. A bright, reddish orange light that seemed to flicker a bit. Something that seemed familiar to the Philosopher, if only he could remember where.

“Cower, foolish mortal,” said a voice behind him. The Philosopher turned to see a large and rather angry red man tower over him.

“Ah,” said the Philosopher. “And you’ll be the Devil.”

“Quiet, fool,” sneered the Devil.

“I mean it’s not hard to guess. The horns and tail are subtle clues, but the bottom half of a goat and the pitchfork just make it a dead give-away. Also the fact that your skin is red, though that may just be the lighting.”

“I am the Prince of Darkness,” snarled the Devil. “The Devourer of Souls. The Ruler of Hell-”

“Yes yes that’s very nice,” said the Philosopher. “But I don’t believe in you.”

“-The Anti-Christ, the-” the Devil paused mid rant. “What?”

“I don’t believe in you.”

“What do you mean you don’t believe in me?”

“I’m an atheist. I don’t believe in all that mumbo jumbo religious rubbish. I’m far too much of a realist for that.”

“Really?” said the Devil in disbelief.

“Yeah. Anyway this is clearly just some sort of strange dream that I’m having or something.”

“A dream?”

“Well it’s the only logical explanation.”

“What about this?” said the Devil.

“Oh that’s clever,” said the Philosopher. “Rats are actually eating away at my insides. I wonder why I’m not dead?”

“Perhaps because you already are?” suggested the Devil with a sneer.

“No no, that’s not it,” said the Philosopher. “I’d remember something as important as that. Oh I’ve got it. This is all just a delusion.”

“Didn’t you already say this is all a dream?”

“Ah yes. But that’s because there’s a demon on my shoulder manipulating my senses. Descartes came up with it.”

“Of course there’s a demon manipulating your senses,” snarled the Devil. “I’m that demon.”

“So you’re the one manipulating my senses?”

“Yes?”

“So I can’t trust of anything I see. Ergo none of this can be real.”

“What do you mean ‘none of this can be real’?”

“Well it’s clear that I can’t trust my senses. So anything I may or may not be experiencing can only be happening to a body that I have no real connection with.”

“Oh yeah?” said the Devil.

“Huh, you have appeared to have turned me into a chicken,” said the Philosopher. “And yet for some reason I can still talk. Clearly my senses are at fault and I’m just imagining all of this.”

“Oh will you shut up about that already,” sighed the Devil. “What if this is all false and you’re being deceived? You’re still stuck here, aren’t you.”

“Not quite. I don’t think I deserve to be in Hell.”

“Well that’s not up to you, is it?”

“Well who is it up to?” The Devil said nothing, staring at the Philosopher in disbelief.

“God. Who else would it be?”

“Ah. But who put him in charge?”

“He’s God! He put himself in charge!”

“Yes, but someone might have created God.”

“No-one created God!”

“Then where did he come from?”

“Well he sort of, well, he created himself.”

“How does that possible work?”

“He’s God. He doesn’t have to follow your rules of science.”

“Ah science. Now there’s something I could debate the ethics about. But regardless, I think I’ve lived a good life. What’s the criteria for being sent down here?”

“Well do you believe in God?”

“No.”

“Then there you go.”

“Well that doesn’t seem to be fair, does it.”

“Fair. You want to complain about fair? I bring up one complaint with the system and try and help humanity and BAM. I get thrown out of Heaven like yesterday’s trash.”

“Well I think that one’s personal beliefs shouldn’t have a say in what does or does not get people sent to Hell.”

“Tough luck mate. Guess you’re stuck here now.”

“But what if I do believe in God.”

“You just said you didn’t.”

“It’s never too late to convert. That’s what the people at my door kept saying before they, you know, got frustrated at the conversation and walked away. And I do believe in God now.”

“Oh you do, do you?”

“Well I can hardly say I don’t. The evidence is uncontradictory.”

“Wait, are you now saying that this is all real.”

“That my eternal soul seems to be hanging around in Hell? Yes, yes it does.”

“Excellent, we’re making progress,” said the Devil. There was an uncomfortable silence before the Devil added “Umm, most people get upset when I remove their manhood with a pair of rusty sharpened flaming pliers.”

“Yes but just because my soul is here doesn’t mean I’m going to feel any pain.”

“What are you on about now?”

“Well where is my body currently?”

“I don’t know. Being lowered into a hole in the ground probably. Why?”

“Well any physical pain that could hurt me must occur to my physical body in order for me to feel it. My soul is non-tangible, so anything you do do to me won’t be physical, ergo I won’t be able to feel it. Thus you can’t torture me because I don’t feel any pain.”

“There are other ways of torturing you,” sneered the Devil. “Ever heard of Rebecca Black?”

“Oh mental torture can only go so far. If I have eternity down here, then eventually I’ll get use to anything you try to torture me with.”

“But it will be torture without end.”

“And without beginning. I mean, how can you start to torture me when that would imply a passage of time, which doesn’t exist in a place like this. Thus you can’t constantly torture me since there’s no time to pass by to justify it.”

“God give me strength,” sighed the Devil.

“You know, I would like to meet this chap,” said the Philosopher. “Give him a piece of my mind.”

“This God you now suddenly believe in?”

“Well it’s very hard to deny the solid facts.”

“So because of the evidence you believe in God’s existence?”

“It’d be stupid not to.”

“Does it count in believing when you have the facts?”

“I don’t see why not. People have believed in bigger stuff with fewer facts. I don’t see why it should be a matter.”

“What makes you think I’ll be able to take you to see God? He kicked me out, remember.”

“When? That implies a past, but eternity can’t have one.”

“Oh come on,” snarled the Devil. “I’ll take you to your precious ‘God’. Then will you shut up?”

“Well how do we know there’s only one?”

“Why would there be more then one?”

“Perhaps he couldn’t do everything, so he evened the load. Spread it out a bit, got the subcontractors in to look after Nature and War and all that.”

“He’s God. He’s in charge of everything.”

“He’s also All-Knowing, isn’t he?”

“Of course he is. That’s what makes him God.”

“So knowing that you’d rebel, thus opening up Hell and sending innocent people into it, he still let it go ahead?”

“Well, yes, I suppose.”

“So if he knew it was going to happen, why didn’t he try and prevent it.”

“Well, because, he wanted it to happen.”
“So he knew you were going to rebel and rather then stop you, he chose to let you go ahead and then suffer. I don’t know if I want to meet this guy now.”

“Yeah he does sound like a bit of a jerk. I want to give him a piece of my mind.”

“So do I. Shall we go together?” The Devil nodded, the two figures instantaneously transporting up to Heaven. Or not, since there was no time in Heaven for it to be instantaneously in.

“Oh, it’s you,” said St Peter. “I’m afraid he’s busy at the moment.”

“Busy?” said the Philosopher. “He’s God. He should have time to do everything, including talking to us.”

“Yeah well perhaps he doesn’t want to.”

“Well that’s a shame,” said the Philosopher. “Well come along Lucifer old pal. We can spend the rest of eternity having deep philosophical debates. And time will never run out on them. Isn’t that great?”

“Oh no,” said the Devil. “I’ve had more then enough of you that I could stand. Give me a hellish wasteland away from God over having a conversation with you any day.”

“But surely there can only be one day in Hell, if eternity could even be seen as a ‘day’,” began the Philosopher, but the Devil was gone before he had a chance to start. St Peter let out a snigger.

“You know, you really shouldn’t go down and taunt Lucifer like that,” said St Peter.

“What’s the point of being a Philosopher if you can’t have fun sometimes?” sniggered the man as he walked back into Heaven. It was good to be back home.

So there you have it. A rather long winded and rambley story designed merely to get me back into writing. If you disagree with anything, or have anything to add, feel free to leave a comment. Till next time.