Another name for the White Man, according to the teachings of Elijah Muhammad. According to Mr. Muhammad, the devil was grafted from the Original Man, which consists of the black, brown, red and yellow races, by the evil scientist Yacub on the island of Patmos. Strictly speaking the devil is not a man but mankind because he is kind of like man but in fact a devil. Allegorically, he has made the earth a hell for the Black man, but he is right at home here.

DevIL is an image loading/manipulation library, previously known as OpenIL, with a syntax similar in some ways to OpenGL.

It integrates with DirectX, OpenGL, Windows GDI and Allegro, is compatible with most platforms and C compilers (and also has Delphi and Visual Basic support) and is capable of loading almost all common image file types, and saving many of them.

A simple C++ wrapper is included, making it extremely easy to use it in your own C++ programs.

It supports animation, mipmaps and layers among various other features.

Satan, meaning "the adversary" was mistranslated into Greek as Diabolos, which means "the accuser" which got mistranslated into "the slanderer" and so Satan gets a bad reputation as an inherently evil character. Satan is God's right hand man, so to speak, testing the faith of mankind at God's request.Mankind is not too keen on this and so makes him out as being evil.

Like the taxman, he is only doing his Job


I am Samael...

I am old...

That is all that I know. If I try to remember anything else, it takes a while, but all I have here is time...




I am old.

I am old and I am tired.

I am old and I am tired and I am lonely.

I am old, I am tired, I am lonely, but above all of that, I am angry.



Anger, yes...I feel that. So much so that it's ceased to be an emotion--now it is more of a background noise, something as intrinsic to my being as my soul-name, or my wings are gone, now. And I no longer can hear the Song. So I am angry.

Long ago, my brethren retreated from themselves and let the corruption take their minds so they would not see what had become of us. I did not. I stayed strong. But there are no others whom I may talk to of the ancient days, no others who I can talk to who can keep my memories alive. So I am lonely.

There are others who exist here, but they do not live, and neither are they dead. The untold quadrillions of them style themselves my "Children." I have no children. Nevertheless, they beckon to me incessantly, their horrid thoughts and horrid deeds stabbing into my mind and festering there. Bit by bit, I feel myself lose control. So I am tired.

I can scarcely remember a time I was not here, in this place, this...prison. But there are some memories, that almost seem like they happened to another: I remember hearing the Song, feeling the Presence close at hand. I remember the words of Creation ringing out in the nothingness, making it merely void full of galaxies and planets. We watched the Presence create life across Its new universe, and We watched It give that new life freedom that it never gave the Brethren. Freedom to experience. Freedom to choose. Freedom to live rather than to merely exist. And I asked the Presence to let us feel. And it denied me.

We watched Creation, and we watched the Presence seed life across its cosmos. We watched life grow, and saw the tragedies and triumph of their lives, and a desire grew within us, and the Brethren knew what I saw, because We were all of one mind in many bodies. And the Presence warned the Brethren to not grow enamored of life. But It did not watch me, for there was not a "me" to watch, at the time. Despite the Presence, the desire stayed within us. So We still watched.

And We watched life end, and saw the pain and elation of its ending, and We became intrigued that existence could end. It was then that a few of us broke off from the Brethren, and became Singular, for the thoughts we now harbored were so alien to the Brethren together that we split apart. The Presence saw this, but did not intervene, but warned us not to become envious of life. But the Brethren who were Singular, I included, still held this desire to learn, and we continued to observe.

And I watched the Presence create a new world that was to be Its favored world in all the Universe, where It would pour all of its power into life with the potential to become a Presence of its own. And We saw the Creation of this world, and I watched the life that was upon it. And I was intrigued of their emotions, for I had none. None of the Brethren had any, save for satisfaction in obedience, and newfound curiosity, and, most frighteningly, envy. The Presence admonished me for my disobedience, but did not chastise me. Perhaps It did not know how deep my envy ran...I did not, at the time...

I saw a small group of this life, and I saw them laughing. I knew why they laughed, as I knew why they made every sound. I did not feel their pain or their pleasures. I wanted to feel, and the wanting of it burned within me. So I touched the mind of one, and did not understand, and then touched the mind of its brood. I still did not understand. So I dug deeper, and felt its pain and fear, and the shock of it nearly destroyed me. But after the shock, I realized I had felt. The sheer joy of it cause me not to notice that the experience had driven the tiny creature to destroy its mate, and its brood, and its nest, and then itself. I brought this knowledge back to the rest of We who were Singular, and found that our numbers had grown. We all burned to feel. I told them what I had done, and they did the same. We felt. Some of us found out how to inspire love, or lust, or sadness, or joy. Most were content with madness and fear.

I found curiosity, the driving force behind it all. I sparked that within a mated pair, and their curiosity spread to others, as happened with all contact between the Brethren and this life. This life that was curious uncovered the secrets of Creation, and were about to ascend to becoming a Presence. This shocked all of us, that such base life could be like this. And the Presence was overjoyed, for we had accelerated Its project. And It added me to the Song, for joy, and I was glad.

And then the Life that would Ascend went...wrong. It left its home planet, as the Presence had predicted, but instead of spreading peaceably, it slaughtered all that it would find. It looked into the cosmos and found it wanting and killed and killed. What it did not kill, it twisted into horrid parodies of Creation. And then, on the edge of its own Ascendance, the Life that would Ascend turned in upon itself, for nothing was pure enough for it, and they slaughtered each other until there were only a few left, in their most basic forms, crawling back to their home world through endless night.

And the Presence was full of grief. And It looked at me, and at We who were Seperate, and decided to punish us. It crafted a prison outside of its Universe, and sent us there. And the shock of being apart from the Presence nearly destroyed us, but such was the nature of the Prison that we did not end. And then we found that we felt. We felt everything. We felt each other. We felt our own sorrow, and agony, and rage, and loneliness, an befuddlement, and our own crushed hopes, and our own ruined dreams, and our own penitent depression, and we felt it magnified to infinity. And then the first souls of Life found their way there, and felt our grief and penitence and rage, and went mad, and begged us to hurt them. In our sorrow, we did so, though we did not know why. And they begged us more, and we hurt them more. And then the "Children" came, and while we hurt the souls of life, they tortured them. Cleansing pain turned to unneeded agony. The feeling of it all turned our minds inside-out.

I wonder, sometimes, when I can tear my thoughts from the endless screams and the stench of omnipresent pain, why the Presence chose this punishment. Destruction would be preferable. Sometimes I beg for it. Other times, I remember that the Brethren looked to me to be strong, in the early times of this, and so I must be strong. But then my thoughts return to my wings, and how I can no longer hear the Song, and how there is no place for me other than the Prison, and perhaps all of my old memories are merely madness born of loneliness and pain. I stopped realizing that I was angry what felt like eons ago.


I cannot remember how long this has happened. Maybe it is many billions of years. Maybe it is merely a nanosecond. It does not matter. I am old. I am tired. I am lonely. Above all, I am angry


There was a thought, not so long ago. A thought that brought with it echoes of the Song. Perhaps I imagined it. I hope I did not, even though all hope has fled me. The message was this: that soon, I will be set loose, and I will walk the world of the Second Life that will Ascend, and I will test it for weakness. Perhaps I will see the Presence there. Perhaps I will sate my rage, if such a thing is possible. Perhaps this was just another torture sent from the Presence, if It really exists, and I did not dream It in my pain and misery.



I am Samael...

I am old...

There is in what is now Iraq and Syria a tribe called the Yezidi. I've always liked their creation story which differs in significant ways from a similar story in the Quran. Somehow this seems to me the more likely version

This is the story of Tawuz Malek, called 'The Peacock Angel'.

Long ages ago at the beginning of things, Allah created a world, our world, the Earth. And Allah took  a pinch of dust and water from the seas that He had made and  created  all the creatures that lived thereon, and last of all from the same dust he created Adam, the first man, and breathed the breath of life into him.  When Allah had done this thing, He called all of his angels together and bade them bow down to the being He had made.

All the Angels in turn came before Allah and each one in turn bowed down low before the creature called Man, all save one. Tawuz Malek looked at Adam and folded his arms and said, ' Born of the fire of Allah am I, and I will not bow down to a being made of mud.'

At once all the angels shrank back in horror and covered their faces with their wings, for they thought Tawuz Malek would surely in the next instant be destroyed. Yet nothing happened. Then the voice of Allah came out of the fiery cloud in which He dwells, and the voice said to Tawuz Malek, ' Thou hast answered well. Because of this, I give to thee this world that I have made and all the creatures thereon, yea even this race of Adam that shall be, to rule over and guide toward the light that has made them.

Now when Adam saw that the one Angel who had refused to bow to him was to rule over him and his children he was angered, and in the bitterness of his heart he rebelled against the will of Allah, and called Tawus Malek the Usurper,  the Evil One , and the Adversary. Thus it came to pass that Evil did indeed enter the world, but it came not from Tawus Malek but from the bitterness in the heart of the first man,  Adam who would not accept the will of the Most High.

And thus has it been to this day.


Dev"il (?), n. [AS. deofol, deoful; akin to G. Teufel, Goth. diaba�xa3;lus; all fr. L. diabolus the devil, Gr. the devil, the slanderer, fr. to slander, calumniate, orig., to throw across; across + to throw, let fall, fall; cf. Skr. gal to fall. Cf. Diabolic.]


The Evil One; Satan, represented as the tempter and spiritual of mankind.

[Jesus] being forty days tempted of the devil. Luke iv. 2.

That old serpent, called the Devil, and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world. Rev. xii. 9.


An evil spirit; a demon.

A dumb man possessed with a devil. Matt. ix. 32.


A very wicked person; hence, any great evil.

"That devil Glendower." "The devil drunkenness."


Have not I chosen you twelve, and one of you is a devil? John vi. 70.


An expletive of surprise, vexation, or emphasis, or, ironically, of negation.


The devil a puritan that he is, . . . but a timepleaser. Shak.

The things, we know, are neither rich nor rare, But wonder how the devil they got there. Pope.

5. Cookery

A dish, as a bone with the meat, broiled and excessively peppered; a grill with Cayenne pepper.

Men and women busy in baking, broiling, roasting oysters, and preparing devils on the gridiron. Sir W. Scott.

6. Manuf.

A machine for tearing or cutting rags, cotton, etc.

Blue devils. See under Blue. -- Cartesian devil. See under Cartesian. -- Devil bird Zool., one of two or more South African drongo shrikes (Edolius retifer, and E. remifer), believed by the natives to be connected with sorcery. -- Devil may care, reckless, defiant of authority; -- used adjectively. Longfellow. -- Devil's apron Bot., the large kelp (Laminaria saccharina, and L. longicruris) of the Atlantic ocean, having a blackish, leathery expansion, shaped somewhat like an apron. -- Devil's coachhorse. Zool. (a) The black rove beetle (Ocypus olens). [Eng.] (b) A large, predacious, hemipterous insect (Prionotus cristatus); the wheel bug. [U.S.] -- Devil's darning-needle. Zool. See under Darn, v. t. -- Devil's fingers, Devil's hand Zool., the common British starfish (Asterias rubens); -- also applied to a sponge with stout branches. [Prov. Eng., Irish & Scot.] -- Devil's riding-horse Zool., the American mantis (Mantis Carolina). -- The Devil's tattoo, a drumming with the fingers or feet. "Jack played the Devil's tattoo on the door with his boot heels." F. Hardman (Blackw. Mag.). -- Devil worship, worship of the power of evil; -- still practiced by barbarians who believe that the good and evil forces of nature are of equal power. -- Printer's devil, the youngest apprentice in a printing office, who runs on errands, does dirty work (as washing the ink rollers and sweeping), etc. "Without fearing the printer's devil or the sheriff's officer." Macaulay. -- Tasmanian devil Zool., a very savage carnivorous marsupial of Tasmania (Dasyurus, ∨ Diabolus, ursinus). -- To play devil with, to molest extremely; to ruin. [Low]


© Webster 1913.

Dev"il (?), v. t. [imp. & p. p. Deviled (?) or Devilled; p. pr. & vb. n. Deviling (?) or Devilling.]


To make like a devil; to invest with the character of a devil.


To grill with Cayenne pepper; to season highly in cooking, as with pepper.

A deviled leg of turkey. W. Irving.

deviled egg a hard-boiled egg, sliced into halves and with the yolk removed and replaced with a paste, usually made from the yolk and mayonnaise, seasoned with salt and/or spices such as paprika.


© Webster 1913.

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