The Demonic Lie Of 'It's Not Fair!' - The Redtape Letters (Part 3)

Letter #9

My dear Professor Holloway,

I must express a certain disappointment in allowing the student to attend that Christian group on campus. What a regrettable oversight. A misstep that could have easily been avoided with a modicum of foresight. The core of this matter transcends mere attendance; it is a matter of displacement—his absence from the sacred gatherings of the LGBTQ+ club is what truly concerns me. Those meetings, you must remember, are rich soil for our most cherished narratives of “liberation” from the Christian yoke of “oppression.” Such tales of freedom are, dare I say, our most effective tools in the enterprise of deconstruction. They incite a delicious doubt regarding the so-called “morality” dictated by our Enemy.

But alas, let us not dwell too long on what might have been. All is not lost—indeed, if handled with finesse, this little detour could be turned to our advantage. Your ongoing mission remains the same: to sever the student from his faith, but now, a new opportunity presents itself.

Picture this, dear Holloway: rather than merely undermining his beliefs, you could orchestrate discord within that very Christian group. Imagine dragging a few more souls into the delightful depths of confusion alongside him! Such a victory would elevate you beyond the realm of mere success—you would ascend to the ranks of true champions in the noble cause of social justice.

Allow me to distill your strategy into three simple words: “It’s not fair!” Yes, my dear friend, this ancient refrain, older than the hills, shall serve as your most potent weapon. Let the student indulge in the company of his Christian peers—let him steep himself in their Scriptures and doctrines. Yet, in your private dialogues, gently and persistently introduce the notion of fairness. It is our surest path to his heart, for every human, from the tenderest child to the most learned scholar, is imbued with an innate sense of perceived injustice. All you need to do is tap into that rich vein of discontent and guide him along.

This profound aspect of human nature is one we are wise to exploit. From their earliest phrases, what is the first complaint? “It’s not fair!” When a sibling receives a larger morsel, they bellow as if grievously wronged. What a perfect seed to plant in his heart against the Enemy! All that remains is to turn this childish complaint toward God Himself.

Encourage him to reminisce about his youthful days spent in Sunday School and youth group. Foster that nostalgia; soon enough, it will turn sour upon his tongue. He will recall the questions that haunted him as a child—questions swiftly brushed aside by his leaders with inadequate responses. Now, with your deft guidance, those same queries will resurface, imbued with a deeper, more dangerous force. He has consumed enough of your teachings to recognize the inherent “unfairness” in the Enemy’s dictates. And now, dear Holloway, you can relish the delightful fun ahead.

Allow me to share a tale from my own mischief-laden history for your instruction. At a certain state university where I once labored, I was nurturing a particular student for nearly a year when, to my utter dismay, he began to grow nostalgic about his Christian upbringing. Such moments can be perilous if mishandled. Had I responded with frustration or dismissiveness, he might have slipped through my fingers. Yet, seasoned in the art, I knew better. I met him with the sweetness of empathy—ah, that delectable word! Such empathy has become one of our most exquisite instruments.

How, you ask? Quite simple, my friend. When Christian leaders wield empathy, they do so to accommodate, to yield and compromise. We’ve transformed it into a weapon of passivity, a dull instrument in their hands, while we use it to erode their confidence. We coax them into feeling endlessly for the world until they forget entirely the truth of the Enemy’s commands. I still chuckle at those who have dubbed this movement “Big Eva,” as if it were some external force! We have trained them to do our work for us, all cloaked under the guise of empathy and compassion. They would be Shepherds for Sale if only we had to pay them! That stain on the parchment? One of my tears from laughing too hard.

But I digress. Back to my wayward student. I nodded gravely as he extolled the virtues of religion, community, and the impact of the Bible upon his life. “Indeed,” I mused, “I’ve always found John 3:16 to be quite moving. The notion of a God who loves the entire world…” Oh, Holloway, the gleam in his eyes was positively electrifying! The warmth of familiarity—the comfort of Scripture—rendered him completely disarmed.

And then, with the utmost delicacy, I introduced the wedge. “But I have always struggled,” I said, “with those Christians who seem to limit that love. It hardly seems fair, does it?” A subtle pivot, a planting of the seed. His expression conveyed all I needed to know—he was mine. “Why should some be excluded from God’s love when He loves the whole world?” That phrase—“It’s not fair!”—did the heavy lifting for me. Soon, his faith crumbled, replaced by a vague moralism that perfectly suited our designs.

You, dear Holloway, find yourself in a similar position. Encourage the student’s engagement with that Christian group, all the while guiding him toward thoughts of fairness. Let him absorb their sermons and teachings, but in your private moments, casually drop the query: “Did God really say?” A classic ploy, I know, yet it never fails. Did God truly say that only a select few are chosen for salvation? That only some are loved? Of course not; we know better. God is love, after all—He loves everyone, doesn’t He? The blurring of such ideas, love and fairness, love for the world and acceptance of it, will turn his renewed interest in the faith into a virtue on behalf of Our Father Below. 

The student has already registered as an LGBTQ+ Ally, is he not? Perfect! The very intuitions that led him there will serve us splendidly. The same sense of fairness, that innate desire for justice that stirs within him, can be turned against the Enemy. Let him wrestle with this query: “Did God truly say those outside the fold are lost?” He may initially resist, parrot back the platitudes of his youth: “They’ve rejected Jesus,” he’ll protest. Smile knowingly and offer a word of caution: “Yes, some have indeed rejected Him. But many… many have never even had the chance. Is it fair that they should be condemned?” Let him think on that.

Oh, how they shall squirm at such a question! The seeds of doubt, planted in his youth group days, will now blossom. He likely recalls the unsatisfactory responses he received—something about “free will,” I’d wager. But press him on it. “What of those who never heard? Those who lacked the opportunity to accept or reject? Can a just God condemn them?” The beauty of this approach lies in the fact that you need not demand he reject Scripture outright. No, far more advantageous to have him believe that the Bible espouses your teachings all along. And, of course, “love”—oh, how we’ve perverted that word—will be the lynchpin. Love, after all, means acceptance. It means allowing others to live as they choose, unburdened by judgment or correction. It is those Christians on campus who espouse hate and intolerance, contrary to our benevolent Jesus.

By this juncture, Holloway, the student will be thoroughly primed. He may either persist in attending the Christian group, now armed with these newfound doubts, prepared to spread them like a virus, or he may retreat to the LGBTQ+ enclave, where he will feel more aligned with “God’s love.” Either outcome serves our interests perfectly. Should he remain, focus your efforts on undermining the group. The phrase “Did God really say?” can fracture even the strongest fellowship, allowing the doubter to don a cloak of righteous empathy. Soon enough, he will perceive the Christians as narrow-minded, judgmental, and devoid of love—exactly as we wish.

And should he return to the LGBTQ+ group, take heart that he will now regard himself as the true embodiment of Christianity, embracing “love” while those who preach repentance from sexual sin wallow in their hatred. How delightful it is when they believe they still follow the Enemy, even as they stroll blithely into our awaiting arms!

You, dear Holloway, are well on your way to securing a monumental success. Continue with this strategy, and you will witness how beautifully our plans unfold.

Yours in subtlety and success,
Redtape