The Devil's Pleasure Palace by Michael Walsh

fit them—thus, the necessity for “evolution” as part of its unholy eschatology.
    Dubbing revision “evolution” also gives a patina of “science” to Marxist theory, something it desperately seeks, having largely abandoned its claims to economic “science” in the wake of a century of failure. Having co-opted, if not actually invented, the “social sciences” (the inherent oxymoron generally goes unremarked), cultural Marxism and Critical Theory seek to legitimize their attempted murder of beautiful facts with a gang of brutal theorems, each one more beguiling that the last, iron fists in velvet gloves, grimacing skulls beneath seductive skins.
    Something that has “evolved” is better than something that has not. New and improved is better, fitter than the old and diminished. Whether this is true, at least in the sociopolitical realm, is very much open to debate. Rhetorically, the point is to establish the inevitable teleology of “progressivism,” always moving “forward” into a bright and shining future and casting off the vestigial physical and moral attributes of the past.
    Thus is born Critical Theory, the hallmark of the Frankfurt School’s “progressive” (in reality, ultra-regressive) guerrilla assault on Western and American culture—Critical Theory, which essentially holds that there is no received tenet of civilization that should not either be questioned (the slogan “question authority” originated with the Frankfurt School) orattacked. Our cultural totems, shibboleths, and taboos are declared either completely arbitrary or the result of a long-ago “conspiracy,” steadfastly maintained down through the ages—as degenerate modern feminism blames male “privilege” and other forms of imaginary oppression. If the feminists have an argument, it is with God, not men; but since few of them believe in God, it is upon men that they turn their harpy ire.
    In its purest form, which is to say its most malevolent form, Critical Theory is the very essence of satanism: rebellion for the sake of rebellion against an established order that has obtained for eons, and with no greater promise for the future than destruction.
    â€œSatanism” is a strong word, but for the purposes of our discussion, it is a vital one. With no artificial Hegelian synthesis at our disposal—as there was none for Milton or Goethe or any other storyteller of stature who has pierced the veil of darkness—we are left with a stark, elemental choice. If the myth of the Fall is correct—and either it is, or it is a mass hallucination that somehow, against all odds, has sprung up and endured—then there can be only good and evil, with no accommodation between them possible.
    Further: God seeks no accommodation with Satan. There is no divine principle worth compromising, no request from the heavenly side of the conflict to meet Hades halfway on matters of faith and morals. No, all the requests for compromise and pleas for negotiation come exclusively from Satan. As Antonio says in Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice :
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  Mark you this, Bassanio,
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  An evil soul producing holy witness
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  Is like a villain with a smiling cheek.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  A goodly apple rotten at the heart.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!
    Goodly indeed. Throughout literature, the Devil is frequently portrayed as sincere, earnest, reassuring and cajoling, slow to reveal his terrifying face. Deception is his stock-in-trade, and human beings who give him the slightest benefit of the doubt end up unhappily, and worse. To doubt the accuracy of these portrayals—no matter whence they originate, whether from folk tradition or (as I argue) some deep,