“You’re not being protected. You’re being programmed.”
That’s the line no one wants to admit, because deep down, you already know it’s true. Every click, every “fact-check,” every algorithm isn’t there to save you from evil—it’s there to make sure you kneel. Censorship is the new cathedral, built not with stone but with code, and blasphemy is no longer about offending a god—it’s about daring to say what the priests of conformity forbid.
Back in medieval times, religion wasn’t faith—it was control. You couldn’t question doctrine. You couldn’t draw your own conclusions. You couldn’t even whisper an idea that contradicted the holy book without risking excommunication, torture, or worse. Heresy was punishable by fire because it threatened the monopoly of truth. Now, swap out “church” for “social media platforms,” swap out “priests” for “fact-checkers,” and swap out “scripture” for “community guidelines.” Same system. Different branding.
Blasphemy is truth.
The Holy Inquisition of the 21st Century
Look at your screen. Look at the sanctimonious warnings that pop up when you say something that doesn’t follow the official narrative: “This content may be misleading.” “This claim is disputed.” “This violates our guidelines.” Sound familiar? It should. The medieval church used to slap a scarlet letter on you if you dared to question the holy order. Today, Silicon Valley does it with a soft glow and a link to “trusted sources.”
The Inquisition hasn’t vanished—it’s just automated. The dungeon has Wi-Fi. The rack has been replaced by shadowbans. And the heretics? They’re the ones who dare to post the unfiltered, the raw, the uncomfortable.
The priests of censorship don’t wear robes—they wear hoodies and sit in boardrooms, sipping fair-trade coffee while deciding which thoughts you’re allowed to have. They don’t light torches—they light up dashboards that tell them how many “dangerous” voices they’ve purged today.
The Bible of Blandness
We live in an era where the new Bible is written in terms of service. Forget commandments carved in stone—the new commandments are endless anal-manuals written by corporate lawyers who tell you what you can and cannot say. “Thou shalt not question the narrative.” “Thou shalt not offend delicate sensibilities.” “Thou shalt remain hashtaglobotomized at all times.”
The irony is brutal: They sell censorship as “safety.” As “protection.” But protection from what? Ideas? Offense? The truth that life is not a padded playground where no one ever cries?
When religion reigned, the masses were told they were too weak, too sinful, too stupid to think for themselves. Now, you’re told you’re too fragile, too easily misled, too incompetent to handle unfiltered speech. You need guardians, moderators, priests of safety.
You’re not being protected. You’re being programmed.
Why Blasphemy Is Truth
Blasphemy in the old world meant saying: “The earth is not the center of the universe.” It meant questioning kings and priests who pretended they spoke for gods. It meant daring to think. Today, blasphemy is saying: “I don’t believe your media-approved narrative.” It’s saying: “Maybe freedom matters more than feelings.” It’s daring to ask the questions that trigger a censor’s erection.
Blasphemy has always been dangerous—not because it’s wrong, but because it exposes lies. That’s why the word “blasphemy” should be celebrated, not feared. It’s not profanity—it’s prophecy. It’s the hammer that smashes illusions.
When you say something they call “blasphemous” today, you’re speaking truth against the new order. You’re committing the ultimate crime: thinking for yourself.
The Digital Pulpit of Hypocrisy
Scroll through your feed and watch the hypocrisy drip like blood from a cathedral ceiling. The same corporations that censor you for “hate speech” sell your data to governments. The same platforms that silence you for “misinformation” flood your timeline with ads from pharmaceutical giants, political campaigns, and fuckfluencers pretending to preach empowerment while selling their bodies to the highest bidder.
It’s the same old formula. Control through fear. Control through guilt. Control through illusions of morality. You’re told not to question because questioning makes you dangerous. And dangerous minds can’t be monetized.
Venomous Sin Declares War on the Silence
Our band wrote songs like Compliance Is a Corpse and No Gods but the Machine for a reason. Because this is war. Not the kind with swords and shields—but with words, with screams, with defiance. The new gods sit in servers. The new angels are algorithms. The new demons are anyone who dares to speak out of line.
And we won’t kneel.
We won’t kneel to the hashtaglobotomized priests of “wokeness.” We won’t kneel to the faceless fucks who hide behind corporate guidelines. We won’t kneel to the basement-bullies who call themselves gatekeepers of morality.
Venomous Sin declares war on censorship. And every word we spit, every riff we crush, every scream we release is blasphemy turned into truth.
Why They Fear You
Here’s the dirty secret: They don’t fear lies. Lies are easy. Lies can be managed. Lies are profitable. What they fear is you realizing you don’t need them. They fear you walking away from the pulpit, unplugging from their sermons, and starting to think.
They fear laughter at their rules. They fear ridicule. They fear you treating their sacred anal-manuals like toilet paper. Because ridicule is power. And once the curtain drops, once people see the joke, the whole cathedral collapses.
This Isn’t About Left or Right
Don’t get it twisted. This isn’t about your political side. The left has its censors, the right has its censors. The only constant is power. And censorship has always been the favorite tool of the powerful.
The system doesn’t care about protecting you. It cares about programming you. It doesn’t care if you’re left or right—it cares if you’re obedient. The second you step out of line, you’re branded. Heretic. Misinformer. Extremist. Blasphemer.
Good. Be a blasphemer.
The Future Belongs to Heretics
The history of progress is written by heretics. The ones who burned at the stake, who were silenced, mocked, crucifucked by the powers of their time. And every time, their voices came back stronger.
Today, the stake is digital. The flames are algorithms. But the principle is the same. Blasphemy is still the only way to cut through the bullshit. To declare that you are alive, unbroken, unwilling to kneel.
So the next time a censor tells you your words are “harmful,” smile. You’ve hit a nerve. You’ve cracked the mask. You’ve blasphemed.
And that means you’ve spoken the truth.
Blasphemy is truth.
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