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God Vs. Satan


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I came across this old article on a blog: http://dwindlinginun...tan-or-god.html


Numbered killings (based on the Bible):


God: 2 476 633


Satan: 10


Since my deconversion I have felt Satan only gets a bad rep because of God's PR machine. Even the 10 those were killed by him (Job's family) were because of that stupid bet with God.

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Satan also brought knowledge into the world through the forbidden fruit. He should be thought of as a good guy.

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At least Satan got an awesome quote out of it: "And the LORD said unto Satan, Whence comest thou? Then Satan answered the LORD, and said, From going to and fro in the earth, and from walking up and down in it. Job 1:7"


Milton before Milton, in my opinion.

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Here in Hungary we have a play called "The tragedy of man": http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Tragedy_of_Man


One of my favourite plays ever. And Lucifer is such a cool character in it. He tells it as it is.






You there, Lucifer, proudly standing apart,

No word of praise from you? Are you still silent?

Does something in my work, perhaps, displease you?



And what should please me? That certain substances,

Having been imbued with properties

Of whose existence You were ignorant

Until, perhaps, they revealed themselves to You,

(Though it may well be You had no power to change them)

Are now screwed up into these tiny globes

That chase, attract or else repel each other,

Awaking a few worms to consciousness

Till all of space is tilled at last, grows cold,

And only the indifferent slag is left?

If man’s at all observant he’ll concoct

Some hash like this with his poor instruments.

Having placed him in your cosmic kitchen

You now indulge his bungling awkwardness,

His godlike postures, his botched cookery.

But when he comes to spoil your favourite dish

You’ll flare up in a rage-too late by then.

But what can You expect from such a dabbler?

What is the point of the whole exercise?

A poem of self-praise is all it is -

You match it to this feeble hurdy-gurdy

And listen to the same old weary tune

Whine on and on in endless repetition.

Is it becoming to Your ripe old age

To play with this contraption fit for children?

A spark of life within a little clay,

A simulacrum, not a faithful likeness;

Free-will and fate in mutual pursuit:

It lacks all harmony, all sense of meaning.



I merit praise alone, not condemnation.



I only render what is in my nature.

Pointing to the angels

This wretched crew will serve to flatter You,

Not surprisingly since they’re Your creatures.

You begat them as light begets a shadow

But I had pre-existence, and am ageless.



Such impudence! Were you not born of matter?

What power had you before? What sphere? What realm?



I might perhaps enquire the same of You.



What here is bodied forth into existence

Had life in me before the dawn of time.



You never sensed that void in Your conceptions,

That barrier to every mode of being

Whose very presence compelled You to create?

That barrier was one named Lucifer,

The underlying spirit of negation.

You triumphed over me since it’s my fate

Incessantly to fail in all my struggles

But then, revitalized, to rise again,

When You made matter I gained my estate;

There stands life, and there beside it, death,

Joy on the one hand, discord on the other,

Shade follows light, and doubt succeeds to hope -

And see, I’m always with You everywhere.

Knowing You as I do, why pay homage?



Out of my sight, you spirit of sedition!

I could destroy you utterly - but no,

Fight on, abhorred, in exile, in the mire,

Forbidden every solace of the spirit,

And in your bleak and anguished solitude

Let this one thought be an eternal torment:

However you may shake your chains of dust

Your struggle with the Lord is doomed to failure.



No, not so fast-I won’t go just like that,

You can’t discard me like a broken tool.

We are both creative spirits - I demand

My portion.


THE LORD scornfully

Just as you wish. Look down to earth:

In the heart of Eden stand two slender trees.

I curse the pair of them: now they are yours.



No wonder you are mean, you have the means.

The merest patch of ground will do for me.

A foothold I require, no more, you’ll see,

To sow negation and spread anarchy.

He sets off



Out of the sight of God, accursed traitor?

All praise to the Almighty Legislator.









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