Satan thinks Epicureanism is no indulgence

Most of what is said about our Master in Hell serves to either amplify His malice so He can be blamed for one’s irresponsibility or to tame Him so one’s own impotence in all matters demonic is less evident in comparison. Satan understands why His sworn enemies resort to such tactics but is scornful towards those of His own followers who betray themselves with similar campaigns.

The herd mentality of the Devil’s church members compels them to chant the words of their clergy, never imagining it would be prudent to verify the claims or check the references. This emphasizes the importance of a responsible church magistrate whose alliance must always remain with Satan not their lesser selves, despite their delusions of grandeur.

One such incident was the current high priest’s, Peter Gilmore, attempt to flatten Satanism and explain it in terms that can best be described as the vulgarity of the uneducated, when Gilmore reduced Satanism to “modern Epicureanism,” explaining that it is a refined selection of gourmet indulgences. Satan thinks perhaps He should be thankful that Gilmore at least managed to contrast it to primitive hedonism.

A little-known Finnish-Greek philosopher among our ranks here in Hell named Perkeles once made an attempt to reconcile Epicureanism with Anton LaVey’s Satanism but abandoned the project before making any significant headway. Perkeles began with a study of Epicurean physics, which stipulated that there is no such thing as life after death, immaterial souls, or gods and devils. All that exists is physical reality. Neither God nor Satan exists. This appears to be the end of Perkeles’ study, because after proudly presenting the distinctly unconvinced King of Hell with his findings that there is no Devil, he vanished without a trace. However, although naturally opposed to worldviews that deny His existence, Satan admits that as far as humans are concerned, one should always reject supernatural claims; He can wait until the day He makes sure they learn the truth the hard way.

Epicureanism is one of several attempts among ancient philosophers toward a practical philosophy of achieving happiness. It is named after the Greek philosopher Epicurus, who lived from 341 to 270 BCE. Epicurus believed that the greatest good and the key to human happiness was to attain a state of tranquility through freedom from fear and the absence of bodily pain, and by not increasing one’s worries through acquisition or ownership. One would spend the best life if surrounded by all your friends, by minimizing one’s desires to the bare minimum required for survival so one had as much time as possible with said friends, and should strive to form communities with them. Hence, Epicurus himself abstained from sex and stuck to a diet of bread and water. Friendship was of such paramount importance to him that he held that a wise man would rather die for a friend than betray him. Epicureanism denied that wealth and power can bring happiness.

Satan could hardly think of anything less congruent with His nature. He represents indulgence instead of abstinence, and although moderation and prioritization of one’s pleasures mark the difference between indulgence and compulsion, Satan thinks that the bare-bones minimum requirements for survival cannot possibly qualify as anything but sheer abstinence. Satan, marvelous in His independence, would also not be caught dead feeling dependent on, or even overly keen on socializing with, anyone including friends. The Prince of Darkness derives His own, dark peace of mind from knowing that He is self-contained and that His diabolical essence is within his full control, unaffected by what others think. He shuns the notion of a community and considers misanthropy a positive trait. Satan agrees with the Epicurean view that there is no intrinsic purpose to life beyond biological imperatives, but He permits Himself the right to determine his own indulgences and values, thank you very much.

It is only in modern, popular usage—explicitly attributable to the promulgation of misunderstandings of Epicurean doctrine by Christian polemicists—that Peter Gilmore’s use of the epicure as a connoisseur of the finer sensual pleasures may be acceptable, but Satan thinks it is just that: a Christian misunderstanding that, if kept unchecked, could easily turn Satanism into its almost polar opposite.

Yet, Satan can identify some genuine parallels between Epicureanism and His church and its members. Firstly, He is convinced that a great deal of them are involuntary Epicureans whose fierce limitation of indulgences occurs by necessity rather than choice. Secondly, Epicureans discouraged learning, culture, and civilization, believing such would upset one’s tranquility, except to the extent that such knowledge could rid oneself of fears. Satan is certain that His church does its utmost to uphold this standard. Like the Epicureans, they rely on empiricism (which denies rationalism and trusts only what humans can directly experience with their senses, and is ultimately the cause of such nonsense as modern-day flat-Earth belief) and are unswayed by fact, science, and logic, demonstrating at every chance they get that they have no grasp on these phenomena whatsoever.

This fervent resistance against intellectual development could, ironically, be their bulwark against the full depravity of Epicurean abstinence and people-addiction. Satan takes solace knowing that His church members, being one of the least studious ethnicities there exists, will echo Gilmore’s words like braying sheep but luckily for them will never choose to study and pursue Epicureanism. Like so many of their “truths,” it is, as the Epicureans would say, an empty sound.