Amount of texts to »devil« 58, and there are 54 texts (93.10%) with a rating above the adjusted level (-3)
Average lenght of texts 606 Characters
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First text on Apr 11th 2000, 06:54:48 wrote
sara the mac about devil
Latest text on Jan 5th 2010, 21:08:58 wrote
darkblip about devil
Some texts that have not been rated at all
(overall: 10)

on Jan 13th 2007, 14:51:42 wrote
ugly duckling about devil

on Apr 11th 2000, 13:47:13 wrote
anybody about devil

on Jan 5th 2010, 21:08:34 wrote
darkblip about devil

Random associativity, rated above-average positively

Texts to »Devil«

steve wrote on Apr 18th 2000, 01:16:47 about


Rating: 11 point(s) | Read and rate text individually

Why do they have angel-food cake and devil's food cake. Is that what these supreme beings actually eat? Probably thay have some ephemeral afterlife version of these cakes, which are, like, 10,000 times better than our finite, earthly version.They probably have everyone go to the breakroom, sing "Happy Birthday, Dear Gabriel, or Beelzebub, or whatever, and have the most delicious, most badass cake ever. Cake so good that it would kill you or me. Well, I really like chocolate, so I guess I know where I'M going. I just hope they have baseball.

the old pirate wrote on Mar 6th 2001, 16:14:24 about


Rating: 13 point(s) | Read and rate text individually

Lucifer, having sinned, was banished from Paradise to the Nether Region. On his descent, he paused for a moment, then went back and approached the Almighty. »I just had a thoughthe said.

»Go onGod allowed.

»I understand that you are about to create mankind.«

»What of it?« replied God.

»He will need laws....« Lucifer mused.

»Wretch!« thundered He. »You have committed the most grievous sin, yet you ask if you can write mankind's laws

»Beg pardon,« bowed Lucifer. »I only ask that he be allowed to write them himself.«

whatevernext96 wrote on Feb 4th 2002, 17:14:49 about


Rating: 8 point(s) | Read and rate text individually

The word 'devil' spells 'lived' backwards. Is this a reference to what poor old Lucifer did before he fell – or an intimation of what he could do again, if only he could turn himself around.

Lying Lynx wrote on Oct 10th 2000, 20:51:59 about


Rating: 1 point(s) | Read and rate text individually

[Text: Edgar Allan Poe, »The Devil in the Belfry« (B), Tales of the Grotesque and Arabesque, vol. I, pp. 157-169.]

[page 157:]

What o'clock is it? — Old Saying.

EVERY body knows, in a general way, that the finest place in the world isor, alas! wasthe Dutch borough of Vondervotteimittiss. Yet, as it lies some distance
from any of the main roads, being in a somewhat out of the way situation, there are, perhaps, very few of my readers who have ever paid it a visit. For the benefit of
those who have not, therefore, it will be only proper that I should enter into some account of it. And this is, indeed, the more evident, as with the hope of enlisting
public sympathy in behalf of the inhabitants, I design here to give a history of the calamitous events which have so lately occurred within the limits. No one who knows
me will doubt that the duty thus self-imposed will be executed to the best of my ability, with all that rigid impartiality, all that cautious examination into facts, and diligent
collation of authorities which should ever distinguish him who aspires to the title of historian.

By the united aid of medals, manuscripts, and inscriptions, I am enabled to say positively that the borough of Vondervotteimittiss has existed, from its [page 158:]
origin, in precisely the same condition which it at present preserves. Of the date of this origin, however, I grieve that I can only speak with that species of indefinite
definitiveness which mathematicians are, at times, forced to put up with in certain algebraic formulæ. The date, I may thus say, in regard to the remoteness of its
antiquity, cannot be less than any assignable quantity whatsoever.

Touching the derivation of the name Vondervotteimittiss, I confess myself, with sorrow, equally at fault. Among a multitude of opinions upon this delicate point,
some acute, some learned, some sufficiently the reverse, I am able to select nothing which ought to be considered satisfactory. Perhaps the idea of Grogswigg, nearly
coincident with that of Kroutaplenttey, is to be cautiously preferred. It runs — "Vondervotteimittiss: Vonder, lege Donder: Votteimittiss, quasi und Bleitziz —
Bleitziz obsol: pro Blitzen." This derivation, to say the truth, is still countenanced by some traces of the electric fluid evident on the summit of the steeple of the
House of the Town-Council. I do not choose, however, to commit myself on a theme of such importance, and must refer the reader desirous of further information to
the »Oratiunculae de Rebus Praeter-Veteris« of Dundergutz. See, also, Blunderbuzzard »De Derivationibus,« pp. 27 to 5010, Folio Gothic edit., Red and Black
character, Catch-word and No Cypher — wherein consult, also, marginal notes in the autograph of Stuffundpuff, with the Sub-Commentaries of Gruntundguzzell.
[page 159:]

Notwithstanding the obscurity which thus envelops the date of the foundation of Vondervotteimittiss, and the derivation of its name, there can be no doubt, as I said
before, that it has always existed as we find it at this epoch. The oldest man in the borough can remember not the slightest difference in the appearance of any portion
of it, and, indeed, the very suggestion of such a possibility is considered an insult. The site of the village is in a perfectly circular valley, of about a quarter of a mile in
circumference, and entirely surrounded by gentle hills, over whose summit the people have never yet ventured to pass. For this they assign the very good reason that
they do not believe there is anything at all on the other side.

Round the skirts of the valley, (which is quite level, and paved throughout with flat tiles,) extends a continuous row of sixty little houses. These, having their backs on
the hills, must look, of course, to the centre of the plain, which is just sixty yards from the front door of each dwelling. Every house has a small garden before it, with
circular paths, a sundial, and twenty-four cabbages. The buildings themselves are all so precisely alike, that one can in no manner be distinguished from the other.
Owing to their vast antiquity, the style of architecture is somewhat odd — but is not for that reason the less strikingly picturesque. They are fashioned of hardburned
little bricks, red, with black ends, so that the walls look like chess-boards upon a great scale. The gables are turned to the front, and there are cornices [page 160:] as
big as all the rest of the house over the eaves, and over the main doors. The windows are narrow and deep, with very tiny panes and a great deal of sash. On the roof
is a vast quantity of tiles with long curly ears. The wood-work, throughout, is of a dark hue, and there is much carving about it, with but a trifling variety of pattern; for
time out of mind the carvers of Vondervotteimittiss have never been able to carve more than two objects — a time-piece and a cabbage. But these they do excellently
well, and intersperse them with singular ingenuity wherever they find room for the chisel.

The dwellings are as much alike inside as out, and the furniture is all upon one plan. The floors are of square tiles, the tables and chairs of blacklooking wood with
thin crooked legs and puppy feet. The mantel-pieces are wide and high, and have not only time-pieces and cabbages sculptured over the front, but a real time-piece,
which makes a prodigious tickling, on top in the middle, with a flower pot containing a cabbage standing on each extremity by way of outrider. Between each cabbage
and the time-piece again, is a little china man having a big belly, with a great round hole in it, through which is seen the dial-plate of a watch.

The fire-places are large and deep, with fierce crooked-looking fire-dogs. There is constantly a rousing fire, and a huge pot over it full of sauer-kraut and pork, to
which the good woman of the house is always busy in attending. She is a little fat old lady, with blue eyes and a red face, and wears a [page 161:] huge cap like a
sugar-loaf, ornamented with purple and yellow ribbons. Her dress is of orange-colored linsey-woolsey made very full behind and very short in the waist; and indeed
very short in other respects, not reaching below the middle of the calf of her leg. This is somewhat thick, and so are her ankles, but she has a fine pair of green
stockings to cover them. Her shoes, of pink leather, are fastened each with a bunch of yellow ribbons puckered up in the shape of a cabbage. In her left hand she has
a little heavy Dutch watchin her right she wields a ladle for the sauer-kraut and pork. By her side there stands a fat tabby cat, with a gilt toy repeater tied to its tail,
which »the boys« have there fastened by way of a quiz.

The boys themselves are, all three of them, in the garden attending the pig. They are each two feet in height. They have three-cornered cocked hats, purple
waistcoats reaching down to their thighs, buckskin knee-breeches, red woollen stockings, heavy shoes with big silver buckles, and long surtout coats with large buttons
of mother-of-pearl. Each, too, has a pipe in his mouth, and a dumpy little watch in his right hand. He takes a puff and a look, and then a look and a puff. The pig, which
is corpulent and lazy, is occupied now in picking up the stray leaves that fall from the cabbages, and now in giving a kick behind at the gilt repeater which the urchins
have also tied to his tail, in order to make him look as handsome as the cat. Right at the front door, in a high-backed leather-bottomed [page 162:] armed chair, with
crooked legs and puppy feet like the tables, is seated the old man of the house himself. He is an exceedingly puffy little old gentleman, with big circular eyes and a
huge double chin. His dress resembles that of the boys, and I need say nothing farther about it. All the difference is that his pipe is somewhat bigger than theirs, and he
can make a greater smoke. Like them he has a watch, but he carries that watch in his pocket. To say the truth, he has something of more importance than a watch to
attend to, and what that is I shall presently explain. He sits with his right leg upon his left knee, wears a grave countenance, and always keeps one of his eyes, at least,
resolutely bent upon a certain remarkable object in the centre of the plain.

This object is situated in the steeple of the House of the Town-Council. The Town-Council are all very little round intelligent men with big saucer eyes and fat
double chins, and have their coats much longer and their shoe-buckles much bigger than the ordinary inhabitants of Vondervotteimittiss. Since my sojourn in the
borough they have had several special meetings, and have adopted the three important resolutions

»That it is wrong to alter the good old course of things« —

»That there is nothing tolerable out of Vondervotteimittiss« —

And »That we will stick by our clocks and our cabbages

Above the session room of the Council is the [page 163:] steeple, and in the steeple is the belfry, where exists, and has existed time out of mind, the pride and
wonder of the villagethe great clock of the borough of Vondervotteimittiss. And this is the object to which the eyes of all the old gentlemen are turned who sit in
the leather-bottomed arm-chairs.

The great clock has seven faces, one in each of the seven sides of the steeple, so that it can be readily seen from all quarters. Its faces are large and white, and its
hands heavy and black. There is a belfryman whose sole duty is to attend it; but this duty is the most perfect of sinecures, for the clock of Vondervotteimittiss was
never yet known to have anything the matter with it. Until lately the bare supposition of such a thing was considered heretical. From the remotest period of antiquity to
which the archives have reference, the hours have been regularly struck by the big bell. And indeed the case is just the same with all the other clocks and watches in
the borough. Never was such a place for keeping the true time. When the large clapper thought proper to say »twelve o'clockall its obedient followers opened their
throats simultaneously, and responded like a very echo. In short, the good burghers were fond of their sauer-kraut, but then they were proud of their clocks.

All people who hold sinecure offices are held in more or less respect, and as the belfry-man of Vondervotteimittiss has the most perfect of sinecures, he is the most
perfectly respected of any man in the world. He is the chief dignitary of the borough, [page 164:] and the very pigs look up to him with a sentiment of reverence. His
coat-tail is very far longer — his pipe, his shoe-buckles, his eyes, and his belly, very far bigger than those of any old gentleman in the villageand as to his chin, it is
not only double but triple.

I have thus painted the happy estate of Vondervotteimittiss — alas! that so fair a picture should ever experience a reverse!

There has been long a saying among the wisest inhabitants that »no good can come from over the hills,« and it really seemed that the words had in them something
of the spirit of prophecy. It wanted five minutes of noon, on the day before yesterday, when there appeared a very odd-looking object on the summit of the ridge to the
eastward. Such an occurrence, of course, attracted universal attention, and every little old gentleman who sat in a leatherbottomed arm-chair turned one of his eyes
with a stare of dismay upon the phenomenon, still keeping the other upon the clock in the steeple.

By the time that it wanted only three minutes of noon the droll object in question was clearly perceived to be a very diminutive foreign-looking young man. He
descended the hills at a great rate, so that every body had soon a good look at him. He was really the most finnicky little personage that had ever been seen in
Vondervotteimittiss. His countenance was of a dark snuff colour, and he had a long hooked nose, pea eyes, a wide mouth, and an excellent set of teeth, which latter he
seemed anxious of displaying, [page 165:] as he was grinning from ear to ear. What with mustaches and whiskers there was none of the rest of his face to be seen.
His head was uncovered, and his hair neatly done up in papillotes. His dress was a tight-fitting swallow-tailed black coat (from one of whose pockets dangled a vast
length of white handkerchief), black kerseymere knee-breeches, black silk stockings, and stumpy-looking pumps, with huge bunches of black satin ribbon for bows.
Under one arm he carried a huge chapeau-de-bras, and under the other a fiddle nearly five times as big as himself. In his left hand was a gold snuff-box, from which
as he capered down the hill, cutting all manner of fantastical steps, he took snuff incessantly with an air of the greatest possible self-satisfaction. God bless me! here
was a sight for the eyes of the sober burghers of Vondervotteimittiss!

To speak plainly, the fellow had, in spite of his grinning, an audacious and sinister kind of face; and as he curvetted right into the village, the odd stumpy appearance
of his pumps excited no little suspicion, and many a burgher who beheld him that day would have given a trifle for a peep beneath the white cambric handkerchief
which hung so obtrusively from the pocket of his swallow-tailed coat. But what mainly occasioned a righteous indignation was that the scoundrelly popinjay, while he
cut a fandango here, and a whirligig there, did not seem to have the remotest idea in the world of such a thing as keeping time in his steps.

The good people of the borough had scarcely a [page 166:] chance, however, to get their eyes thoroughly open, when, just as it wanted half a minute of noon, the
rascal bounced, as I say, right into the midst of them, gave a chazzez here and a balancez there, and then, after a pirouette and a pas-de-zephyr, pigeon-winged
himself right up into the belfry of the house of the Town-Council, where the wonder-stricken belfry-man sat smoking in a state of stupified dignity and dismay. But the
little chap seized him at once by the nose, gave it a swing and a pull, clapped the big chapeau-de-bras upon his head, knocked it down over his eyes and mouth, and
then, lifting up the big fiddle, beat him with it so long and so soundly, that what with the belfryman being so fat, and the fiddle being so hollow, you would have sworn
there was a regiment of doublebass drummers all beating the devil's tattoo up in the belfry of the steeple of Vondervotteimittiss.

There is no knowing to what desperate act of vengeance this unprincipled attack might have aroused the inhabitants, but for the important fact that it now wanted
only half a second of noon. The bell was about to strike, and it was a matter of absolute and pre-eminent necessity that every body should look well at his watch. It
was evident, however, that just at this moment, the fellow in the steeple was doing something that he had no business to do with the clock. But as it now began to
strike, nobody had any time to attend to his manoeuvres, for they had all to count the strokes of the bell as it sounded.

»Onesaid the clock. [page 167:]

»Von!« echoed every little old gentleman in every leather-bottomed arm-chair in Vondervotteimittiss. »Von!« said his watch also; »von!« said the watch of his vrow,
and »von!« said the watches of the boys, and the little gilt repeaters on the tails of the cat and the pig.

»Two!« continued the big bell; and

»Doo!« repeated all the repeaters.

»Three! Four! Five! Six! Seven! Eight! Nine! Ten!« said the bell.

»Dree! Vour! Fibe! Sax! Seben! Aight! Noin! Den!« answered the others.

»Eleven!« said the big one.

»Eleben!« assented the little fellows.

»Twelve!« said the bell.

»Dvelf!« they replied, perfectly satisfied, and dropping their voices.

»Und dvelf it isssaid all the little old gentlemen, putting up their watches. But the big bell had not done with them yet.

»Thirteen!« said he.

»Der Teufel!« gasped the little old gentlemen, turning pale, dropping their pipes, and putting down all their right legs from over their left knees

»Der Teufel!« groaned they — »Dirteen! Dirteen!! — Mein Gott, it isit is Dirteen o'clock!!«

What is the use of attempting to describe the terrible scene which ensued? All Vondervotteimittis flew at once into a lamentable state of uproar.

»Vot is cum'd to mein pelly?« roared all the boys — »I've been an ongry for dis hour!« [page 168:]

»Vot is cum'd to mein kraut?« screamed all the vrows — »It has been done to rags for dis hour

»Vot is cum'd to mein pipe?« swore all the little old gentlemen — »Donder und Blitzen! it has been smoked out for dis hour!« — and they filled them up again in a
great rage, and sinking back in their armchairs, puffed away so fast and so fiercely that the whole valley was immediately filled with an impenetrable smoke.

Meantime the cabbages all turned very red in the face, and it seemed as if the old Nick himself had taken possession of everything in the shape of a time-piece. The
clocks carved upon the furniture got to dancing as if bewitched, while those upon the mantel-pieces could scarcely contain themselves for fury, and kept such a
continual striking of thirteen, and such a frisking and wriggling of their pendulums as it was really horrible to see. But, worse than all, neither the cats nor the pigs could
put up any longer with the outrageous behavior of the little repeaters tied to their tails, and resented it by scampering all over the place, scratching and poking, and
squeaking and screeching, and caterwauling and squalling, and flying into the faces, and running under the petticoats, of the people, and creating altogether the most
abominable din and confusion which it is possible for a reasonable person to conceive. And to make it if he could more abominable, the rascally little scape-grace in the
steeple was evidently exerting himself to the utmost. Every now and then one might catch a glimpse of the [page 169:] scoundrel through the smoke. There he sat in
the belfry upon the belly of the belfry-man, who was lying flat upon his back. In his teeth he held the bell-rope which he kept jerking about with his head, raising such a
clatter that my ears ring again even to think of it. On his lap lay the big fiddle at which he was scraping out of all time and tune with both his hands, making a great
show, the nincompoop! of playing Judy O'Flannagan and Paddy O'Rafferty.

Affairs being thus miserably situated, I left the place in disgust, and now appeal for aid to all lovers of good time and fine kraut. Let us proceed in a body to the
borough, and restore the ancient order of things in Vondervotteimittiss by ejecting that little chap from the steeple.

Angerona Cerulean wrote on Aug 27th 2003, 19:54:21 about


Rating: 1 point(s) | Read and rate text individually

"Tell me the TRUTH about the Devil !

Does the Devil really exist? Some Satanists view the Devil as the first individual -
the first being to acquire consciousness and self-awareness. This lends itself to free
will and is the true meaning behind Lucifer's »fall from graceWe are all
inheritors of that gift, so if you are asking me what the devil looks like, I would
simply tell you to go look in a mirror. In other words as the Inxs song lyrics read "every
single one of us ... the devil inside." We have a choice as to whether we decide to utilize that
aspect of ourselves.

The most common misconception about the Devil is that the Devil is somehow responsible
for the free will choices we make as individuals. Is the Devil behind all the evil in the world?
It would depend on what you would define as the devil. We, you and I, and all other
individuals are responsible for the evil and all the good as well. Human beings are creatures
of habit and whenever the force of change is introduced to a system it is upsetting,
perceived as »evil

Change itself is the universal constant. Just when you think you've got everything figured
out and all your beliefs neatly categorized, the trickster Satan comes along and whacks you
upside the head with an apparent contradiction. You see, we are being "fooled by the
Devil" because that is how we learn – through our own mistakes! Without problem solving,
existence becomes futile, meaningless! The Devil represents life's onslaughts and challenges
which we must face and overcome to evolve physically and spiritually. John Milton put it
this way, »Satan is the force of change that wills forever evil, but does forever good

Those who trash the Devil are beating up on themselves. The good guy/bad guy mentality
sanctioned by the Islamic and Christian faith is dehumanizing and dangerous. The same
technique is used by the military establishment. When John Allee served in the army during
the Vietnam war, the troops were shown propaganda films depicting Asians as slant-eyed
devils who pillaged and raped women. The objective was to dehumanize the enemy so they
could be killed without conscience. It is effective programming and excellent military
strategy. The point is whether you choose to use it in your own personal life!

More recently, here in the United States, commercial airliners were hijacked by a group of
Islamic fundamentalists who were taught from a very early age that America was "the
Great Satan." With fanatic religious devotion, they commandeered the planes to crash into
strategic locations, killing themselves and everyone aboard, along with thousands of
innocent people. Again, these hijackers were desensitized. They were not murdering men,
women and children; they were vanquishing Satan. Thus, anything that they did, could not
be seen as more evil than what they were attempting to overcome.

Many Christians fear that the Devil wants their soul. Again, you have to understand the
definition of the Devil. Secondly, for there to be want, there must be separation or division.
The source of all life is the One, whose center is everywhere. All layers of intelligence in the
Universe are cut from the same dark cloth. We are it. It is us.

You cannot be separated from your soul. It is what makes you ... you. You may worry
about what the agenda of Satanism really is and what the Devil's purpose is on this planet.
In essence, you are really asking the age-old question, "What is our purpose on earth?
What is the meaning of life?" Free will determines what you believe and how you perceive
things. You are an aspect of divinity, therefore life means exactly what you think it means.
Decide right now whether you will define your life from a perspective of free will or fear.
One path is that of passive acceptance. The other is that of the trail blazer."

John D. Allee, FCoS Founder

sara the mac wrote on Apr 11th 2000, 06:54:48 about


Rating: 3 point(s) | Read and rate text individually

what does it mean to live in the shadow of devil mountain? we watch the sun fall behind the devil's shoulder. the sky glows red, deepens to purple and the shadow swallows the mountain, setting the people free.

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