Our most recent dark age begins when the generation before mine, finding themselves in shock—perhaps because of the Cold War and its many hot wars, or perhaps because of the immediately prior changes that Walter Benjamin outlines—decides that they hate God, and are henceforth going to tweak his nose by making it their collective life’s work to erect a hell on Earth.
There’s no particular need to argue the existence of God here, and this isn’t a theological question anyway.
One of the saddest of all metaphysical truths is the fact that no matter what doubts may exist about heaven, hell is always eminently attainable, and rapidly so.
And thus we find ourselves where we are—hurtling down the tracks toward it in the space of a few decades, with the boomers and those that follow in their affective foosteps leaning out the windows of each car and screaming petulantly into the wind, in hopes of further offending whatever may exist that can plausibly be offended (they stopped believing in God once they had fully sated their belief in him by rebelling, like adolescent children, against him).
No, theology isn’t needed for endless suffering. Only for the achievement of happines.