Sympathy for the Devil
By MS
- 2932 reads
Imagine being blamed for something you didn’t do.
Not some transparent excuse, but inky black blame, so deep that anything placed there can never return.
Imagine being the universal blame for everything unspeakable.
The person the finger points to when the truth is just too hard to accept.
Ruled by a world of simple equations.
Right or wrong
Clean or dirty
Negative or positive.
Good or evil.
It was him,..not me
Now imagine that very blame being your life blood, the reason you exist.
That’s the burden I carry as your appointed Prince of Lies.
Sat on my throne, built on fear, mistrust, denial and ignorance.
Lets not confuse this with a position of choice or democracy. I’m here through the imagination of a totalitarian dictatorship. I have no choice.
Put quite simply, I exist because you put me here, a collective need for someone to hate.
Since the million or so years that you have been walking upright ive been here. Silent and invisible.
Your power to evolve has come with great consequence, one that you’re not willing to accept.
To get to the top, things must be moved aside, toppled, stepped on and crushed. It’s a long way up, and now that you are there, you don’t want to look back, or take responsibility.
This is where I step in. A necessary evil, if you will.
But these things, in the darkest moments of your existence. I’m not to blame.
War, Famine, Rape and Murder, has nothing to do with me, that’s all you.
Do you really think I could be so crass.
You overpopulate, deforest, capitalise and dictate. Altruism is a fading emotion.
Its all about you.
And me.
The person you blame, when you cant believe what you are capable of, and not willing to understand.
Every life taken, abused or tortured. A history of atrocity committed by you and laid at my feet.
On reflection I have to admit awe, In your constantly inventive ways of destroying the world around you and the people you share it with.
With this astounding capability to harm yourselves, it leaves me obsolete.
You conjure up Gods to approve your wrong doings and devils to take the blame.
I have to be far more inventive.
I have no blood on my hands, I do not take lives, I do not make Tsunamis or Earthquakes or long range missiles.
But with all this misplaced blame, I am forced to fight back.
I pitch quiz shows.
You know the ones, where you kid yourselves that you have some intellect by remembering the name of a song, or a sporting event, some random fact from the past.
That feeling of partial knowledge?. .
That’s me.
I run Charities.
You know the ones, helping war torn countries that your taxes, or the people you elect to speak for you, pay for or give the go ahead to carpet bomb in the name of democracy.
Whilst starving children on your TV interrupt you making yourselves fat on nutritionally void waste matter.
That feeling that you’ve done something good when you drop a coin into a collection box?..
That’s me.
I market Vitamin pills and Herbal remedies.
You know the ones, that supplement your daily excesses, quick fixes in one easy swallow.
That feeling of well being that a tablet is prolonging your life?…
That’s me.
I promote Tobacco Health incentives.
You know the ones, pictures of blackened lungs and bulging cancers that decorate packets of cigarettes.
That feeling of guilt as you pay for a habit that clearly shows you what it can do to you?..
That’s me.
I start Social network groups.
You know the ones, that you join under the illusion that others will find you, interesting, funny or unique.
That feeling of being part of something that doesn’t really exist ?
That’s me.
I write greeting cards and occasional gifts, so you kid yourselves that you have shared something special by borrowing a tired and mass produced emotion.
I spread conspiracy theories that turn the terrible things you do into something worse.
I write statistics that make you fear the insignificant.
I produce cheap fad exercise equipment and self help books that promise to make desirable, for it to only be stored and forgotten a week after purchase.
The list is endless.
Every false emotion, irrational fear and personal doubt, that’s me.
Cruel, malicious, cold and calculated. That’s me. But I’m what you made me, I protect you from yourselves. I hide the evidence, I silence the blame.
Imagine taking responsibility for the blame, excepting what you are and what you do.
That’s not me, or you.
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Comments
Great piece of writing MS.
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Great writing, MS, and
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Really really well written,
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phew! I thought for a second
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Not sure i've read your
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