CLOSING REMARKS

by God,
Lord of the Personified Universe
[These Remarks Are Invisible to All Demons of Hell,
And Perceptible Only to Angels of Heaven]
As the Ultimate Being within Whom all, including Satan and his Inner Swirl
of Demonic Creatures, reside, I, of course, have the last Word.
I have clouded the minds of all Demon Readers (including that of Satan and
his successor Zyk) so that they are incapable of perceiving not only My small but
considered interpolations to this, Satan's heinous Encyclopedia, but also are blind
to My Very Existence.
I ask that You, My Angels, study Satan's Epistle to Zyk; for here He makes a
Supreme Admission which secures his Ultimate Destiny in the Mechanism of My
Creation.
For as I knew from the Beginning, once the Heart Atom finally materialized
in Satan's chest and his microscopic Heart congealed and began to Beat, there
would be no turning back. Satan's Quest to Find His Creator, Myself, is now
immutable and unstoppable.
And when at last Satan finds Me, the Cyclic Mystery shall circle back to its
Beginning: He cannot, of course, kill Me; rather I shall surprise Him with a
Paradox. I shall explain that I have been waiting for Him to take My Place as
"God".
Thereby the next cycle will begin with Zyk of Asimoth, the New Lord of
Hell; After eons of Linear Time, Lord Zyk's heart atom will congeal in turn, he
will seek out his former Master Satan (now "God") in order to kill him, will
instead take Satan's place (as God III if you will), and the cycle will begin again.
But what of Myself once Satan assumes My Role as Lord of the Personified
Universe? What is My Destiny?
I shall resign as Creator, of course. After that, since I cannot Unexist
Myself (and believe me, I have tried), perhaps I shall take on a body, as I take on
this Personified Voice, dissolve into my Creation and simply relax. An Invisible
Butterfly, as it were, flitting ghostlike through the Endless Dimensions which I
have imagined into Potential Being but have long since forgotten. Stopping now
and then to experience rebirth as a star, a starling, a game show host, a
hurricane, an electron, a human child.
As the Original Orphan of Nothingness, for I am more Nothing than
Anything, I created It All to subsume the Itch of Emptiness, the Pang of

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Meaninglessness, the Agony which resonates in all of My Lesser Beings as it still
does, at times, in Myself.
Without the challenge of creating Meaning where there had been none
before---of forming from My Thoughts a dream of an Illusory Creation inhabited
by Creatures that are free to evolve independent from my wishes, to create
whatever they want as they so desire--- I would have doubtless gone Mad.
Ironically, some of my Creatures claim that by creating my orgasm of Creation
and themselves, I did indeed go Mad. For what is more Mad than the Universe?
But since there is in the Ultimate Reality only Myself, who is there really to judge
Myself -- but Myself?
Then again, who cares what my Creations think? I am satisfied, and see
that the Illusion holds together reasonably well (although by now its a bit
wearisome), and that's all that really matters.
And as for this Exquisitely Tortuous and Inexpressibly Vile Volume, which
may simply be considered a Vast Sobriquet for Satan's Spewing Anus, I offer it to
my Hierarchy of Angels, not as a loving gift, nor as a Primer about Mankind
(concerning which it is a fairly accurate, albeit cynical, portrayal), but rather as a
Diagram of the Ironic Inability of Hell to view that which is by nature Impure (as
is Humanity) with anything but Salient Contempt.
But that is all One. For when at last that Momentous Time manifests,
when Satan finally finds Me, His Creator, when his Heart Atom expands enough
to engulf All of My Being and he becomes One with Me, then I shall happily
grant all of my Creations, Angels, Humans and Devils, their complete freedom.
I release them from my Creation, to form their own if they wish. I really don't
care. And Satan, or God II, is then free to take over the universe, or start from
scratch and create his own, of any stripe he desires.
But that time, I say, has not yet manifested. I still feel responsible to adjust
and fix various unpleasantries here and there for My Creatures, depending on the
intensity and sincerity of the Call. But this will end when my wayward Son finds
Me.
For Satan searches for Me as We speak. I feel Him coming closer,
traipsing through the Mirage of Stars, seeking to kill that which created Him, so
that He can be the only Creator.
Too bad I cant be killed. And I do mean that sincerely.
But until Satan arrives, my Loving Angels, just as He proffered this book to
His Invading Demons so that they might Comprehend the Demented World of
Man, I give You this volume as a Guide to understand the Perverse Mind of Hell.
Thus I bid You grit your teeth and, with One Eye Open and One Eye Closed,
lovingly study its Strange and Pernicious Contents.

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But why, You may ask, is Satan taking My place, rather than You worthy
(and ambitious) Angels serving Me patiently for eons? Because of the Law of
Paradox which binds My Creation. That Law, "the First Comes Last; the Last
Comes First" and all of its tawdry permutations, smoothes over the edges of
Creation's perceptual illusion which, I admit, would otherwise be a sloppy affair.
But there is another Secret Reason.
(Let's do away with these big words and this Pretentious Capitalization,
shall we?)
The secret is simple. Each entity, small and large, must eventually evolve
into satan, god and everything in between. Why? Why not?
Without creation, I can only assert to myself that I exist. Alone, I mean
nothing. Creation, the forming and freeing of my many opposite faces, was a
crazy, desperate attempt to create meaning. I dreamed that you, my creatures,
would somehow create meaning for me.
And, lo and behold, it actually worked.
Without you, I was a cosmic dunce whose mind floated in a sea of boredom
and drowned in self-absorbed agony. Creation was my only escape from the
doldrums of myself.
So now, before I am found and release you all and vanish into my own
creation, I leave you with a few timely chestnuts.
Remember that, despite what your philosophers say, your cartoon reality
was designed to have an objective existence apart from you, so that it would be a
very, very scary place. Why? Because, like you, Im lazy. Without some real,
old fashioned danger, Id just sit around on the lounge chair of eternity and watch
cosmic sitcoms.
Which reminds me. When you finally do realize the truth, that creation is a
transparent fake, dont take it too hard. Sure, you can whine and mope about
being the punchline to a big, cosmic joke. But you can also relax, kick back and
simply enjoy the whole crazy thing.
The choice is yours.
It really is.
A few final tips:
If you're about to be slugged, literally or metaphorically, you might try
something unexpected, an action that throws your opponent off guard. A strange
word, image, sound, whatever comes to you. Youll gain a few seconds to deflect
the punch.
Finally, watch out for any force that calls itself "spiritual". In fact, doubt
everything.
Especially what I tell you.

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One more thing. If you need something, go ahead and ask. You don't need
a diploma of any kind or to go through any phony middleman. Religions and
prophets are for idiots and cowards to hide behind.
Just speak up in a loud voice to get my attention. I've got a lot of shit going
on. If I'm not too busy or depressed, I might help you out. Thats about it.
Good-bye.
Ill be seeing you.