My Dear Globdrop,

I admit to being pleasantly surprised by your last letter. It appears that you have finally begun to learn the art of discretion. The bit about poking your patient with quiet observations regarding his reeking roommate, his food-chomping best friend, and his saliva-spraying, close-talking employer — this is precisely the kind of work I expect from you. Never underestimate, dear nephew, the effect that annoyances can play in conquering a human soul.

Now, although you have sidestepped several blunders, you still have more maturing to do. This is evident in the question you posed at the end of your letter, How do you lure the pup back to his sexual vomit? Nephew, you’ve skipped a step. Substitute the “how do I” for “should I” and you’ll find yourself on the right track.

It is true that we have capitalized on the pleasure the Enemy has built into sexual activity. Even so, I advise you to keep your particular man from pornography — at least for the time being. It is time to advance in your tempting. Let me explain.

So far, you have kept to your training: you’ve suggested explicit images here, recalled memories of past exploits there — both of which have, to your credit, begun to weaken the patient’s resolve. You have even progressed to tempting him towards lust by provoking the feeder-sins that nourish his caged animal.

This past month alone, he has been so angry with his stepmother, so anxious about upcoming deadlines, so lazy in spiritual watchfulness, so entitled in his sense of what he expects the Enemy owes him, that he has been one sniff of his roommate away from jumping back into his old therapy. You have done well to batter him with other sins before you hand him the dagger of lust.

I commend you for your work on these points, but let us not be too hasty in pressing for the final blow. I fear that you forget that which, for a tempter, must never be forgotten: Porn is never an end in itself.

Now don’t mistake me: Seeing him grapple with his urges for weeks on end, only to bring him to his knees with the perfectly-timed temptation is one of the most gratifying fruits of our labor. And then to watch him whip himself with reminders that he is the scum of the world — all the while forgetting that nonsense about the Enemy calling him a beloved son — is delicious beyond compare.

As entertaining as this can be, you are no longer a junior tempter simply contented with your human to perform tricks — you are a soldier in his Lowness’s army. We run a butcher shop, not a circus. Your task is nothing less than to damn souls and feast upon flesh! Do not forget your unholy calling and become distracted by civilian matters. Work to please the one who enlisted you.

And he who enlisted you is not pleased by you merely getting him to look at porn, masturbate, fornicate, or even commit adultery. Some harlots will be in heaven, and many virgins will be in hell — never forget it. Their souls, Globdrop, their souls! And to get their souls, we must keep them from the Enemy. Allure him away from the opposition and get him here with either adultery or abstinence, illicit sex or celibacy. The only thing that matters is Damnation; everything else is a question of details.

So, dear nephew, you ask, what shall be done? My answer, in this situation — which is one of the hardest things for young tempters to learn — is nothing. Young lions run and roar about; seasoned lionesses watch and wait.

Pretend a truce with him. We have discovered that some vermin, bombarded so continually on the front of sexual purity, begin to confuse this battle for the war itself. They “flee from sexual immorality,” as the Enemy enjoins, but neglect to “pursue righteousness.” For them, Christianity has become little more than not indulging in sexual wrong.

After enough defeats, victory over pornography can become the only prize he will strive after anymore. And so, we give it to him, but not on the Enemy’s terms. Make him want clean glasses — not to marvel at his Master through them, but so that he can merely gratify himself at the cleanness of his lenses. Once granted this triumph, he may eventually forget his main business and feel victorious even when, after a week of ignoring the Enemy through prayerlessness and Biblelessness, he has no new sexual sin to confess at the next accountability group. These are the “victories” that step towards our bayonets.

So, dust off the forgotten artillery of abstinence and see how he responds. He may yet think the battle is won, the war complete, and his duty fulfilled once he has it. He may assume he has “overcome” because he stopped clicking the mouse, while letting larger rodents continue to burrow in his heart. He may forfeit his soul in his triumph and forget his Master in his celebration — as those nomads of old forgot theirs once they made it past their enemies into the Promised Land. Your patient may just fold up his uniform, tidy away his weapons, and wander from the Enemy’s fortress on his own. And believe me, dear nephew, we will be waiting to receive him with open arms.

Now, I am not suggesting that you cease cultivating his lusts. This would be to abandon your tanks and cannons. No, continue to tempt him towards that lingering gaze at his co-worker and those YouTube videos that — while not technically being “porn” — cause the cauldron to brew. And, by all means, tempt him to look at nudity — just keep his harem within the walls of his imagination. This way, he will be less prone to confess it to others or feel like any real repentance is required. If ever he gets convicted to do so, congratulate him that at least he isn’t looking at porn.

So, do not cavalierly fire pornographic temptations at him. Although your dart may hit its mark, the sting may awaken in him a recognition of helplessness that causes him to scurry back to the Enemy and beyond our reach. Instead, wait and watch.

He may yet wander away into one of our favorite modern virtues: independence. If this happens, he will have no patience with others who struggle, see little need for any help in his continued combat, and eventually leave the church altogether. Lust, pride; pride, lust. We win in his “victory,” and we win in his defeat.

Your Freshly Inspired Uncle,

Wormwood