My dearest Wormwood,

Many years have passed since our last correspondence.  You have become quite the success, an accomplishment due no doubt to your uncle Screwtape’s tutelage.

I write to you with great satisfaction for the work that you have been doing for your ceaseless deception of those witless subjects of yours who believe their home will one day be amongst a chorus of angels.

Don’t argue the point with me that we too are angels, while that may be the case (fallen or not) and we do have a chorus it’s still the last place they expect to be (I hear they have excellent jazz up there… Gabriel even accompanies on trumpet.)

Our own problems for sounding so disharmonious could be due to the fact that some of the screamers in the pit still have no range. What with the never-ending supply of new arrivals, we’d never win any competition.
Though they have pitch, of course – they’re covered in it.
You’ve always been one to nitpick on the most meaningless points of semantics… even to the point of accusing me of being anti-semantic.  That’s such an old pun Wormwood, I can’t believe I resorted to it… must be the nog.

Nog… That reminds me:

You may wonder why I’m writing to you now.  Well, as you know, on the mortal plane they’re celebrating someone’s birthday.  Of course all of those misguided souls who believed that they were indeed ‘saved’, regardless what they did, are made aware of the fact that they’re here to stay by their tormentors.  Jesus negotiated the deal long ago in order that they be reminded that God will not be mocked – it’s in the contract.  Jesus…  He’s such a good boy.  His mother… she has a right to be proud.

Back to matters down here:
O’ the cries… it’s almost, dare I say, “inspirational?”
In truth though we had hoped that another vehicle written by another of your uncle Screwtape’s pupils would have made a greater impact this season.  To everyone’s dismay down here, it did not.  I speak of a book titled ‘The Christmas Sweater.’

It was made into a play and I think maybe 37 people saw it – give or take 37.
The student and author, though a buffoon, is still doing exactly what we need him to do, Wormwood.  I know that with your training that you would protest his lowbrow tactics, but believe me his shtick works.
His insistence on America being a Christian nation is exactly the recipe to once and for all destroy both America *and* Christianity.  He and the ‘religious right’ seek to please the masters of the lower depths – the price?
The destruction of their own planet!   Sure, their politicians, media elite, and religious leaders make out like the proverbial bandits while the flock is fleeced, as they faithfully carry on living in woeful ignorance and poverty having forfeited their souls all because they were too trusting of men who led them astray!   That’s what makes it so great!  In their blindness to give corporations the rights of individuals (more, actually) they sell themselves and future generations into slavery!  Wow!

I must confess, it’s almost sad, really – either that or it’s the nog speaking:  The number of wretched souls who NOW KNOW the once ignored parable of the sheep and the goats, they now cry it out in agony from that fiery pit.
We’ll get them harmonizing soon enough, though.  Those church choir folk, they sure do take awhile to grow accustomed to these conditions… well, actually, that’s not true.  None of them has grown accustomed and they still think that if they pray hard enough that they’ll be raptured out of here.  I mentioned that to Jesus in the online birthday card I sent him, and he texted me back, “what part of eternity don’t they get?”

I recall that when I was reading some of the correspondences which your uncle Scewtape wrote to you one year, when I was working on the mortal plane, and some fundie asked what I was reading.
‘C.S. Lewis’, I responded to his inquiry
He replied, “he’s a satanist”
I sat in wonderment that such an idiotic thing could have been spoken…
I then said, “excuse me?
“C.S. Lewis, right?”, he asked.
“He’s a satanist”
“…ok… go away,” said I in frustration (I happened to enjoy the works of Mr. Lewis and did not care for the ignorance which excreted from the dimwit I was speaking to.)
“I thought you were a Christian.  If that’s the case, why are you reading a book by a satanist?”
I looked at him with a warning glare and replied, “You’re an idiot.”
Three days later, after I had finished Lewis and was reading Boenhoeffer, he showed me his ‘proof’…
A Chick Publication (cartoon tracts which were commonly found in phone booths.)
He turned to the page of his comic book, as again I was taking a much needed break from a long week at work, and put the cartoon in front of the page I was reading in ‘Letters from Prison’ by Dietrich Bonhoeffer.
He even asked who the author of the current book I was reading was and wondered aloud whether he too was a satanist, or whether I would just lie about the entire matter.

These are the people we’re dealing with… and this guy who was a known philandering adulterer, these are the type who are convinced that they’re not on the Highway to Hell.

FOX has made life so much easier for everyone down here.

I’ve got to go now, they’re roasting someone’s nuts over an open fire.
Tis the season and all.

So I say to you and your fiends, Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Auntie Christ

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my friend, so good to see you! i hope you are well, and plan to find out for myself later today……

your wonderful, incisive wit is such a gift to us all. not to mention your good heart.

thanks for a great post.

we’ll talk soon……….

KQµårk 死神

😆 Your deep levels of wittiness always amaze me AC.

I love the image too.


LOL! Thank you, auntie. 🙂 I needed that laugh!


And I still will wish you a Merry Christmas, because I can.


LOL. Auntie Christ, you are a hoot. I haven’t heard that line before — “anti semantic.” I read the Screwtape Letters many years ago and can’t remember much about it except that it wasn’t “satanist.” At least I don’t remember it being so.

Love that picture too.



Masterful, so smart and too funny!

A wonderful Xmas present, thank you so much.

All I got you was socks.