Not that i believe in the devil, but the attributes assigned are clearly mapped. And those attributes are all marks of Power — in all it’s Lusty Glory. In all its Pride and Vanity and Wrath and Greed and Sloth and Idolatry and Ignorance.
In ALL its Trappings, from burlap to silk.
We belly up to Temptation like pigs to a trough, disgorging our pearls in exchange for protection from the fact that we are but a blood-meal in the Game of Power.
And sadly, no matter how powerful we become, we will be broken — for Death is the Final Answer. And so far, there are no reliable hacks or cheats that can crack the code of what lies beyond Life. Only the barest of cliff-notes as a travelogue brochure to guide or mislead us…
And so, it becomes clear that as a culture we mistakenly kneel at the wrong altar. We are gripped with a lust for Power so deep that it expresses in ways we do not recognize — through each thought, word and deed as we partake of our own brands and blends of compensatory denials; through all of our snide judgmentalisms and coy deceits and cons and chicanery from crib to grave. We inhale it through every port in every moment of every day, and exhale its rancid perfume wherever we employ its devices.
It is so everywhere we cannot know it, unless we become Very Alert to its Ways and Means.
And see clearly which master we serve. Power works through impure motives rooted in a primordial need to survive by any means necessary. From there it trellises like a vine, coiling about our stems and branches, blossoming into increasingly sophisticated forms of steel-cut intrigue and lies, lies, lies – layered in by conventions of cruelty from the ancestral haunts of antiquity.
And of course, we must forgive ourselves for not knowing that beneath our misbegotten strivings, in the root and stem and branch and flower, we already ARE a power greater than any facsimile of power that a fallen angel can offer…