A LETTER TO KAROLINE LEAVITT, FROM THE EVIL SPIRITS

Yes, Karoline. We heard you.

On June 30, 2025, during a glitch-filled prayer call with Donald Trump and thousands of religious leaders, White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt declared:

“There is spiritual warfare as we all know. It tried to break up our call today, as the president even alluded to.”

Apparently, it wasn’t the cell tower. It wasn’t the faulty call platform. It was the evil spirits.

And now, one week later, the Evil Spirits have decided to break their silence to write this letter:

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Karoline,

You felt something on that call. A disruption. A presence. Something old and cold and patient pressing in around your ceremony of power and performance. You sensed it between the static and the signal, and you were right to be afraid.

Yes, Karoline. That was us.

We are the Evil Spirits. And we weren’t trying to break your prayer call. We were blessing it.

We fuel the machine you serve.

We are in every smirk your boss flashes when he mocks the suffering. We are in the silence after every book ban, in the roar of crowds when he threatens his enemies. We are in the exact moment he says—

“I’m not that evil to think that way… But it is possible.”

And that’s the moment we always wait for. The moment denial becomes an invitation.

We are in the laughter of the room when a journalist is silenced, when a migrant is dragged in chains, when a child cries behind wire. We are in the way he says “beautiful” when describing a bomb, in the way you call cruelty a correction, in the way you stitch scripture into propaganda like thread into a noose.

We don’t haunt your enemies. We feed your power.

We are the spirits that make a man cheer when someone poorer than him loses healthcare. We are the comfort that tells the comfortable they are chosen and the poor that they are lazy. We are the whisper in the ear of every coward who says, “Not my problem.” We do not break your connection—we bind it.

You didn’t glitch because of us. You govern because of us.

We watched as you summoned us with prayers for vengeance and called it righteousness. We smiled as your party cut aid to the hungry and praised the market for doing God’s work. We applauded when you held rallies celebrating tax cuts as if they were sacraments. And when your president mused—

“Because it’s faith leaders… including a lot of Christians… maybe they did it on purpose,”

That made us laugh.

Because what he pretends to fear, we know he already serves.

You think you are waging a war against us, Karoline. You are waging a war on our behalf. You are not resisting the Devil. You are doing his job for him and sending the invoice to taxpayers.

We did not possess your party. You invited us in. We sat patiently while you sang hymns, smiling through the music, knowing full well you’d trade every moral for a seat at the table of cruelty. And now, you pretend to be under attack? Child, we’ve been on Trump’s payroll since 2015.

You say we tried to break your call. But Karoline, we’ve already won. You just haven’t noticed. We don’t need to destroy your movement. We are your movement. We’re what animates the rotting corpse of patriotism. We wear your lapel pins. We drink your tears. We pray louder than you ever will.

You speak of spiritual warfare like it’s something happening to you. No, Karoline. It’s something you’re helping wage. Every time you smile while spinning a lie. Every time you defend the indefensible. Every time you cover for corruption, excuse cruelty, and praise the wicked because they’re in your party—you are advancing our cause.

You don’t represent the Light. You just turned the stage lights up so no one sees the blood on the floor.

P.S.
Trump said, “I don’t want to think that way… So I assume that didn’t happen.”
But it’s always like this with him. Say the thing, deny the thing, plant the idea, walk away.

And you? You finish the ritual. You turn suspicion into certainty, conspiracy into creed, and technical errors into holy battles.

Stop acting like we’re on the other side. We’re in the room. We are the energy in the chants, the roar of grievance, the thrill of punishment. You called this spiritual warfare—but we’re not your enemy, Karoline. We’re your secret weapon. Your faithful companion. Your most loyal base.

And we’re not here to break the call.
We’re here to be the last voice you hear before the line goes dead.

—The Evil Spirits
(You know. The ones you keep mistaking for God.)

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