The ongoing formation of dictatorially controlled sectors, where people are declared to possess no human rights, where mental and/or physical enslavement is the sole alternative to misery, starvation and death, belongs to a world produced in the image of God. The American prison-industrial complex, Foxconn and Saudi Arabia are simply a few obvious examples of these pits of darkness controlled and supervised by a globally connected society of friends, and we all more or less participate by bowing down in adoration before the deity they project in the sky. Our partaking is often times masked by seemingly progressive attitudes, but in truth most critiques of the system functions as integral parts in its machinery. And as Deleuze and Guattari spells out: “It is too easy to be antifascist on the molar level, and not even see the fascist inside you, the fascist you yourself sustain and nourish and cherish with molecules both personal and collective.”
The proclamation of the death of God should not be apprehended as a statement intended to close down theology, rather it is an assertion that theology harbours the most radical critique of both the world and the fascist inside you, since it is intense enough to put everything on the line while affirming possible worlds deemed cursed by the current priesthood. However, a theology after the death of God cannot remain tied to a representational logic but must be seen as a futuristic and artistic practice of opening up fields of virtuality. To paraphrase Guattari, theologians must therefore demonstrate that they have abandoned their priestly and academic cloaks, beginning with those invisible ones that they wear in their heads, in their language and in the ways they conduct themselves.