The Screechfeed Dispatches - Letter II: On Hollowing the Sacred

  

📍 From: Underfiend Griphax
📍 To: Screwtape, Tormentorship Emeritus
📅 Filed under: #ReligiousRot #FaithAsBrand #WeaponizedWorship

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“A lukewarm believer is worth a hundred atheists.”
— Screwtape, Post-Canonical Memoirs

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Most Venomous Uncle,

Forgive the delay in correspondence. I was briefly promoted to Head of Soul Analytics for a particularly wretched influencer ministry, until an internal audit discovered my numbers were too damningly successful.

No matter. I return to you now with another update on Subject #768B.

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🙏 Faith, Not as Fire, But as Flag

The patient has lately been experiencing… yearnings. A flicker of the old hunger—for meaning, for connection, even for the Enemy Himself. I feared revival. But, mercifully, he sought “spiritual content” through the algorithm.

And what does he find?

• Sermons cut into motivational snippets.

• A prosperity gospel with better lighting.

• Crusades of keyboard warriors who know the name of the Enemy but not the voice.

He consumes faith like he does everything else: as content. It is branding, posture, aesthetic. He wears a cross now—but as a lifestyle accessory. The symbol shines; the soul behind it rusts.

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🧠 Righteousness Without Repentance

A core triumph has been decoupling belief from behavior. The patient is “spiritual,” but he does not pray. He loves quoting scripture (out of context) in arguments, but flinches at self-examination.

He condemns with zeal and forgives with reluctance. This is ideal.

We have ensured he confuses conviction with aggression and humility with weakness. The Enemy’s commands are inconvenient—so we help him interpret them as “outdated” or “optional.”

His faith is performative, not transformative. A perfect clone of virtue, designed to repel grace.

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🔥 The Icon Inversion Protocol

He recently encountered a painting of the Enemy—gentle, bleeding, arms open. It stirred him. So I redirected him to a forum where the same image was used to promote intolerance, rage, and self-idolatry. (Incredible how flexible icons are when dipped in the acid of outrage.)

The trick is not to destroy the sacred—but to twist it.
Let them sing hymns, if they believe them battle cries.
Let them quote scripture, if they use it to harm.

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I await your judgment, Uncle.
Should I push harder toward nationalism? Or gently nudge him into prosperity fluff? Or perhaps let him drift into vague mysticism where “everything is spiritual,” and nothing is holy?

All ears, all horns,
Underfiend Griphax
🕯 Division of Religious Dilution & Digital Doctrine Packaging

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🗂 Tags: #SpiritualButNotRepentant #FaithAsAesthetic #CrossAsCostume #BlessedAreTheLoud
🖼 Header Art: Christ Pantocrator (6th century, St. Catherine’s Monastery)
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The Screechfeed Dispatches - Letter I: On Isolation and the Algorithm

 

📍 From: Underfiend Griphax
📍 To: Screwtape, Tormentorship Emeritus
📅 Filed under: #DigitalDamnation #Isolation #SubtleSnares

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“They will build walls of glass and call them windows. Let them.”
— Screwtape, Lectures on the Anti-Church (Third Circle Press, annotated edition)

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My Esteemed Uncle,

Permit your humblest subordinate to extend acidic admiration. Your writings, still circulated like sacred scrolls in the training pits, are nothing short of infernal scripture. May my efforts earn even a flicker of your contemptuous approval.

I write from my current post—embedded deep within The Feed. Not the old fields of flesh and fog, no. This battlefield glows, hums, and pings. A place where the humans think they are more connected than ever... and in that illusion lies our gain.

My latest charge (referred to in our registry as Subject #768B) has shown promise. He is of the new breed: attention-starved, overstimulated, and ever online. Ripened for our purposes.

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🕸 Primary Corruption Vector: Isolation via Connectivity

I have managed to erode his understanding of community. Where once he sought presence, he now accepts presence indicators. A green dot suffices for a handshake. A heart emoji, for love.

He scrolls. Constantly. I reward him with the occasional spike of envy or lust—just enough to keep the algorithm hungry and his soul tired. He sees “friends” without friendship, and believes loneliness is normal—worse, that it’s comfortable.

He does not think of prayer, only push notifications.

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🧬 Microdoses of Envy: A Curated Despair

His morning begins with six-pack abs, paid vacations, and photogenic dogs. All lies, of course—but polished, shimmering ones. His reality looks drab beside it. That’s the trick: make him compare without questioning the premise.

He has learned to filter even his pain, to present his wounds attractively. Suffering must be shared—but not healed. As long as he performs his sadness, he won’t be tempted to confront it.

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⚠ Countermeasures Required

There are dangers, of course. Solitude, if not properly filled, may lead him to silence—and silence may lead him to “Him.” The Enemy has a way of whispering in stillness. So I prescribe noise. Earbuds, podcasts, guided meditations devoid of meaning.

Worse still, he nearly opened a physical Bible last week. (Thankfully, he searched for an app instead and became overwhelmed by ads.)

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Your advice is welcome as ever. I aspire to earn a promotion—perhaps something respectable, like Junior Tempter in a Mid-Tier Megachurch. Until then, I remain,

Your Caffeinated Nephew,
🖋 Underfiend Griphax
Dept. of Human Entanglement
Subdivision: Urban Apathy & App Monetization

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🗂 Tags: #IsolationIsKey #AlgorithmicAnguish #FilteredFaith #DigitalDamnation
🖼 Header Art: Cabanel's magnificent "Fallen Angel", 1847.
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