Satan Speaks: A Candid Interview With the Dark Lord

Thinking it to be a low probability, I recently requested an interview with Satan. To my astonishment, he sent me a personal written reply inviting me to his home on the shores of Lake Tahoe in California for a defined 15 minutes of interview time. What follows is a highly redacted transcript of that interview as I had to agree that he could edit my notes. In addition to the physical (and irreversible) redactions, my memory of the interview was also permanently deleted, leaving behind only what follows as both evidence and documentation of what transpired between us.

To begin, Satan was not at all what I was anticipating. I have become accustomed to illustrations of Satan as being a hideously ugly creature, replete with pointed tail, split hooves, pitchfork in hand , horns and a threatening smirk. He was none of these things. I arrived precisely on time for our 7AM appointment at his chalet deep in the woods a few miles outside of downtown Tahoe, California. He greeted me himself at the door.

I was struck by his surprising attractiveness. Tall, handsome and middle aged – with a tad of distinguished gray at his temples – He looked more like George Clooney than he did like the personification of darkness and evil. He smiled warmly and offered an enthusiastic handshake as he invited me into his living room.

I glanced at the timer on his desk. It was down to 14 minutes already and I knew I had to get going, so without further adieu, I went on to ask some of the questions I had of him.

Me: Satan, I am both surprised and pleased that you would agree to speak with me today. As you have not given many interviews over the course of your existence, I would like to begin by asking you why you agreed to this one today?
Satan: Well, I thought that the time had come to counter some of the prevalent mythology and projected attributes people regard me as embodying. I had been waiting, actually, for quite a long time to speak with someone who would come to this interview without a preconceived opinion or agenda.

Me: What caused you to decide that I had no preconceived ideas about you?
Satan: (Looking over the top of his expensive, designer rimless glasses, straight into my eyes) I knew.

Me: OK then. Let’s get started. You don’t look the way I expected you to look. Do you change your appearance to suit the occasion or is the way you appear to me right now the way you have always looked?
Satan: I am as you see me. I have always been as I have been seen. That has never changed.

Me: Right. I am wondering about what you can tell us about the Biblical versions of the story of your claim to the domain you rule, the ‘fall from grace,’ the conflict with God, the bring put out of Heaven, etc. It is said that prior to this extraordinary sibling-type rivalry with God, that you were actually one of his more noble and powerful Archangels.
Satan: Well, believe what you will. God and I actually struck a deal. He is smart – make no mistake about that. He realized that to represent goodness, there would need to be an easily identifiable counterpoint of evil in the world. Without good, it is near impossible to consider or understand evil – and conversely, without evil, good remains an unavailable and generally meaningless abstraction. Being in the throws of my adolescent development, the proposal sounded intriguing to me, so I took him up on it. We’ve become a kind of cosmic version of Good Cop/ Bad Cop.

Me: Do you still retain a relationship with God who you once served so enthusiastically.
Satan: First off, again, I continue to serve him by showing off the contrast between good and evil. Secondly, we are, in all honesty, not close friends. Oh, like distant family, we exchange cards at holidays and should we encounter each other at the scenes of major miracles or catastrophes, we grant each other some brief but token acknowledgment.

Me: Do you regard yourself as having the power to cause terrible things to happen in this world and to the people who inhabit it?
Satan: My real power derives from the same source as Gods. Our greatest contributions, one way or the other, are functions of non-activity rather than of activity. We exercise power, most often, by NOT acting. You should think about that one a little bit. Of course, from time to time we each get tempted to actually do something, thus God creates what you humans call ‘miracles’ and I make catastrophe and chaos. We do these things for our own recreation. Mine are better, of course. After all, a miracle usually impacts only one or a small hand full of people and must be investigated, sometimes for centuries, before being declared to have actually occurred. My works, on the other hand, tend to impact millions, make the front pages of news papers around the world and the reality of their having happened is generally never questioned. Now I ask you, as one type of being to another, which sounds more powerful to you?!

At this point, I notice that there are but a few minutes left on the timer. Just then, two very small (1-2 feet high) but otherwise normal appearing people enter the room – each with a small serving tray. They are placed on the low coffee table that sits between Satan and myself. One tray holds a handful of cigarettes and the other, a shot glass of what appears to be bourbon whiskey. Satan grins and glances down at them implying an offer. I ignore them and go on to use the little remaining time as thoughtfully as I can.

Me: What makes you real to people?
Satan: Now that is a very good question indeed, and a perfect one to conclude this interview with. I exists because both God and people who believe in him need me to be a believable force in the world.

The timer rings.

Satan: I’m afraid your time is up – with the interview, I mean. Turn it into 15 minutes of either fame or shame, as best suits you. It may be thousands of years before I agree to speak with a human again and when I do, the answers will likely be the same.

Good day.

I left his chalet knowing either less or more than I did when I walked in. I still puzzle over whether it is a cause to celebrate fame or to acknowledge shame.