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January 19th, 2005
10:47 am - A Letter to Satan.
Dear Satan,
Thank you, thank you, thank you for the “I Love the…” Series on VH1. It’s fucking brilliant. “I Love the 90’s- Part Deux,” is better than the first one. I’m not quite sure why you haven’t sent the career of Michael Ian Black soaring yet. He’s funny, he’s sardonic and witty, and he’s ambiguously attractive. Let’s forgive him for his role as Johnny Blue Jeans on Viva Variety (which I thought was a great show) and let’s get him hosting award shows and shit!
Also, Chuck asked me to ask you about selling his plant soul to you. He’s really unhappy here and two of his stalks have turned completely yellow. It looks like his time on this earth is nearing the end. He wants to know if he promises to enter hell with you to suffer forever, whether you can arrange it for him to schtup the African violet on the next ledge over. It’s the last request of a dying plant. I think you should grant it to him. I feel bad for the little runt. He was so miserable here in my office, I’d just like to see him have one more moment of happiness. If you have a file cabinet in hell, he’d look really good on top.
Since we’re on the topic of hell, as I prepare for my own eventual demise and decent, I was wondering about the admittance policies for hell. I know God requires faith to enter heaven, and the opposite would be despair, and so it follows suit that despair should be required to enter Hell. But what if I have no faith or despair? Where does that leave me? I mean I know your rationalization for causing man to fall was, “Misery loves company” because you figured if you had to be in Hell, you wanted others to join, but I’m not sure I’m going to be very good company to you, because frankly, I cant share in your envy of missing out. Quite frankly I think your being a little childish. But that’s neither here nor there. How about we make a deal, let me simply perish, and while I’m here, I’ll quit enlightening people about why the whole system you and Big G got worked out is kind of dumb.
Either way, I think I’ll do okay, I mean I’m not really all that bummed about hell anyways, at least I’ll know people. You guys get cable down there? Because if in eternity, linear time has no meaning, I’d love to get a look at “I Love the 00’s” and “I Love the 10’s.” Your marketing department didn’t really think ahead on those ones, eh? What the fuck are you going to call them? No catchy word sums up those decades, eh?
Anyways, take care and tell Beelzebub I said wazzup.
-B
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