Which is, again, exactly why Maryann is in his life at all. What was it she said to Lettie Mae? "It's always something out there that gets the blame or credit, whether it be Jesus or gin." Baudelaire said the greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he doesn't exist, but I would say the opposite is closer to true: The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing us he does. That's it not just us, pulling the strings.
He's our little black-eyed girl, culturally, and you only have to look at the shadow of a people, or a religion, or a country, to see how well they're doing. How healthy. You could get used to putting all your shit on one thing -- maybe it's women, or a given minority; maybe it's Saddam Hussein; maybe it's Sarah Palin, or Lynndie England -- and then you don't have to deal with it anymore. If there was no Devil we'd have to invent him, let him carry our burdens, just so we could sleep at night. Until those dreams began to wake us, and we realized we'd made him ever more powerful there, in the dark.
"Dionysus, Satan. It's really just a kind of energy. Wild energy, like lust. Anger, excess, violence. Basically, all the fun stuff." All the stuff in the blister, waiting to explode. "Maryann brings it out in people. She channels it, controls it. She's immortal, Sam. She never wasn't here, so there ain't no point in fighting her, you see? You'll never win!" He stands up, scared, talking to himself: "I'm not gonna just let her kill me." And she says in the voice of a true believer: "Being a part of something divine is worth dying a thousand times. You'll see."
Sam asks if that's what she's asking for, a sacrifice: if he gives himself up, will she release her hold on Bon Temps? Daphne laughs, because she's having too much fun now. "This town's full of crazies ripe for the picking!" (And never was a truer statement made, my God.) "She's like a pyro in a room full of matches," Daphne says, goggle-eyed, coming to him out of the water, putting her arms around his neck: "Just go to her, Sam. Play nice. She might even let you live." He shoves her away, hurting her feelings, and runs away into the forest; she smiles and lets it go, staring out over the water. "I used to be just like you," Hugo says in Dallas.
"Thought I was a real emancipated thinker, especially when Isabel took me to bed, and the sex was... Amazing, the best ever. Well, you know." Sookie's eyebrows go up. "It's addictive, isn't it? To be desired by something that powerful." She assures him she's no addict, and he scoffs: like she hasn't noticed herself changing to suit him. "You start missing work, can't get up in the morning, can't stand to leave them after dark?" He's right, but she's the wrong one to talk to about this: "Before you know it, you're somebody you don't even recognize." She's grossed out, and just as right as he is: "So you went to the Fellowship because you can't control yourself?"