Mr. Beast pits people against one another as gladiators of
poverty. He has made a living from torturing the most vulnerable in society, having them do take
after take of epic reaction shots as he dangles the promise of wealth just out
of their reach before doing advertisements for the rotten children’s food he
peddles at Walmart. For a man naming himself after Aleister Crowley, Mr. Beast
was quite bold in his spite for the Christian faith. He had replaced the holy
trinity with a children’s entertainer. And behind his emotionless eyes are the storms
of Armageddon.
Revelation 13
I saw one of his heads as it were wounded to death; and his deadly wound was healed: and all the world wondered after the beast.
(this is a reference to the lethal car accident Mr. Beast miraculously walked away from, even though his brain was hanging out)
And they worshipped the dragon which gave power unto the beast: and they worshipped the beast, saying, Who is like unto the beast? who is able to make war with him?
(the dragon is a reference to the internet)
I’m witnessing one of the latest Beast stunts. He has two people trapped in a Perspex box above Devils Lake, North Dakota. The contestants had to live together for 21.8 months, though if one person left, the one who remained would get double the money. Therefore the contestants had been at war against each other, looked on by camera drones and Mr. Beast production staff. Just down the lake coast Mr. Beast fans were cheering, holding up signs, doing Mr. Beast impressions to each other. Today Mr. Beast was there, sometimes waving at them from a distance, the smile never moving or wavering with whatever he was doing. He said some words into a microphone about the contestants having a lovely time together. Then he released hundreds of flies into the box. I turn away.
I am unable to bear witness to the satanic ritual taking place overhead, the cruelty of pitting poor against needy, Mr. Beast himself had farmed maggots from corpses to select the right flies for his diabolical scheme. It was a lampoon of the martyrdom of St. Constantine, a blasphemy that brought a plague to the box to honour Ba'al Zabub, the sixth prince of Hell and lord of Ekron, the patron demon of gluttony and envy. I could feel the satanic energy build up around me. I needed to get out.
Later that day I returned, trying to look at him from across the lake with a set of binoculars. Once I managed to pick him out of the crowd, focus the lens, he stopped talking to a producer and looked directly at me. I threw the binoculars away, running back to my Hyundai Sonata. I wasn’t safe. Mr. Beast was onto me. He was too powerful.
