PSA - A Torch, Not a Trick

Send over your dead SMS messages.

Greetings, listeners. Though my work is grim, I do my best to keep from completely falling into the cliché of the dark and brooding Lord of the Underworld. Not all of my realm’s responsibilities revolve around damnation and torment. I may be stern but cruelty? That’s a mantle for others to don. One way I tried to bridge the divide was through this podcast. I’ve wrestled with the idea for weeks, to offer up a bit of levity for April Fool’s Day as I did last year. However, it felt hollow and forced. Things topside seem to be getting worse, not better. I considered offering another happy story about absolutely nothing significant and following it up with the news that we’d decided to cut this season short, perhaps even throwing in a fear of reprisal for standing behind certain beliefs. And yet, as the god of permanence, of endings and justice, I don’t fear mortal arrest or persecution. And, I refuse to cheapen my conviction with illusion, especially not now when illusions abound. If saying “free Palestine”—asserting a people’s right to be free from colonizers, from the horrors of genocide, from an Apartheid state, and suffering— If that is what’s now being called hate speech—then the true fools are not those who cry for freedom, but those who try to silence them.

The fools are those who twist compassion into crime, who cloak cowardice in legislation, and who mistake obedience for peace. They pass their decrees, thinking themselves wise, but they are jesters in the court of history. They brand dissent as danger, while they themselves unleash terror upon the innocent.

They are μοροί—fools—not in the theatrical sense, but in the sacred Greek sense: μοροί, those fated to fall, for they defy the natural order. They believe themselves eternal. But I have seen kingdoms built on bones collapse into dust. And I assure you: their time will come.

This podcast was never meant to soothe the ears of tyrants. It was never a salve for those who benefit from silence. It is a torch. And if the world is drowning in shadows, then so be it—I will be the flame.

So on this April Fool’s Day, let it be known:

We are not the fools.

We are not the cowards.

We are not the ones twisting reality to serve cruelty.

No—those thrones sit elsewhere.

And to those seated there, I offer no jest, no olive branch, no softening of the blow. Only this warning:

The Underworld remembers.

The dead do not forget.

And the scales will balance.

... As they must.