Selling the Underworld, Part I

Send over your dead SMS messages.

Greetings listeners, after silently watching the world burn for the past month, mustering up enough resolve to write has been ... difficult. Indeed, one wonders if ruling the Underworld is worth the trouble. Thus, I decided I needed to shake things up. Perhaps, cede the throne to one who has more vigor in him, not to mention the ambition to rule. Therefore, I took my trusted rotary phone to reach out to someone in the Upperworld who has clearly shown the world he means business. Hopefully, I'll have more to report after he comes to visit and enjoys our legendary hospitality. 

As ever, any feedback can be routed to me at [email protected].

Disclaimer From the Lord of the Dead

This episode is a work of satire, deliberate as ritual, and grim as prophecy. No events depicted herein are factual—though truth often chooses to wear a mask when it walks among the living.

It is forged in the long and hallowed tradition of folklore: that ancient mortal craft of cloaking truths in tales, mocking kings through riddles, and laughing at monsters to rob them of power. Just as mortals once whispered of tyrants as toads and foxes in the safety of hearth-lit tales, so too do we now cloak modern hubris in mythic absurdity. The Underworld is not for sale, nor would I entrust its keys to a man who cannot distinguish a coin for Charon from a coin for Musk.

This performance is an exercise of protected speech, under the First Amendment of the United States Constitution—a right mortals too often squander until the silence is all that remains. To fear satire is to fear reflection, and the dead do not flinch from mirrors.

“Ἐν τοῖς σκιώδεσι, ἡ ἀλήθεια ψιθυρίζει.”
“In the shadows, truth whispers.”

Listen well. Laugh deeply. And remember: not all jokes are harmless… but the ones that bite are often the ones you needed to hear.

— Hades,
King of the Dead, Keeper of Oaths,
and Guardian of Folklore’s Flame