Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Satanic Activity in My House Last Night

I readily admit that there are a lot of things in this life I don’t know about, and when it comes to “rulers of the darkness of this world” and “spiritual wickedness in high places,” to quote Ephesians 6, one must exercise particular caution before making a judgment.  But of this I am most assured: Satan entered my house last night in the form of peanut butter.   I Scheiß you not, my friend!  I’m not entirely sure if the devil assumed the shape of peanut butter or was simply inside the jar of peanut butter in some fashion or another.  And if he did assume the shape, did he merely give the appearance of peanut butter or did he somehow become one with the peanut butter.  I’ll let theologians and demonologists quibble over Satan’s presence, whether his essence was consubstantial with the peanuts and oil or whether it was occupying a particular space.

How do I know Satan was here, you ask?  Exhibit A: Satan is called the tempter in the Bible, and that jar of peanut butter tempted me beyond what I could bear.  Just like when he tempted Jesus to rule the kingdoms of the world, so the devil enticed me with that extra crunchy delight after struggling for weeks so diligently with my vegan diet.  Exhibit B: The Bible says that Lucifer can appear as an angel of light.  I easily spotted that jar of peanut butter when I got home from work late last night, around 1:00 or so, because it was on the kitchen counter right under the stove hood light that my daughter must have left on.  Let me tell you, it shone like a beacon in the darkness, and I just couldn’t resist.  The Great Deceiver had me right where he wanted me.  I was a moth drawn to the light, a helpless insect caught in the spider’s lair.  Satan’s minions in the form of saltine crackers also had a role to play in this most sinister conspiracy hatched within the confines of hell and unleashed in the witching hour.  Those demons joined their dark master to taunt me with the pleasures of the world.

We have a small laundry room in our basement and I used to tell my children it was the “red room,” like the freaky, evil storage space in Amityville Horror.  I don’t joke about stuff like that anymore, for I have seen evil incarnate in this house: peanut butter and crackers.  I tried to slay the fiend and his minions with a glass of nonfat milk, or at least lessen the effect of his black wiles upon me; but it was no use.  The damage was done: I saw evidence of the devil's handiwork as I stood naked from the waist up in front of the mirror this morning.