“You’re not being protected. You’re being programmed.”
Let’s rip the bandage off: censorship today is not about “safety.” It’s not about protecting anyone. It’s not even about misinformation. It’s about obedience. About submission. About licking the boots of a rotting digital priesthood and pretending you’re being “good.” That isn’t safety. That’s spiritual lobotomy.
Welcome to the new church where blasphemy is truth. Its god is the Algorithm. Its bible is the Terms of Service. Its high priests wear rainbow-colored virtue badges and scream “harmful content!” while holding pitchforks made of hashtags and weaponized feelings. And just like the medieval church burned heretics, today’s platforms crucifuck truth-speakers, shadowban dissidents, and execute speech they can’t control.
And I’m here to tell you—
Blasphemy is truth.
The Heresy of Free Thought
In medieval Europe, you could be executed for saying the Earth revolves around the sun. Today? You get digitally lynched for saying men and women are different, or that your body is not your identity. Galileo was imprisoned for science. Now you’re cancelled for jokes, memes, or using the “wrong” pronoun in 2013.
We’ve all become tindernailed to the algorithm.
Look around. Big Tech plays God. The woke mob plays inquisitor. And every time someone screams “offensive,” someone else gets disappeared. This isn’t just censorship—it’s moral execution. You’re either blessed by the feed or excommunicated into silence.
The same way popes excommunicated kings, now YouTube, TikTok and Meta ghost you into digital purgatory.
We screamed it in our song “Fuck Your Filter and Say It, You Son of a Bitch”. We scream it on stage. We scream it through every blood-drenched lyric. Because this isn’t art—it’s resistance.
Blasphemy = Survival
You know what they hate most? When you laugh at them. When you point at the moral panic circus and say, “this is clownworld.” They call it hate speech. I call it survival instinct. Because when the world is this insane, the only sane response is madness.
When society is clickbaitgutted and hashtaglobotomized, the only sacred act left is blasphemy.
Tell the truth. Scream the ugly, the painful, the politically incorrect, the sexual, the sinful. Offend everyone. Because offense is how the soul fights back against manipulation. That’s why they built this cage of fake politeness and compliance—to keep us neutered, normiefucked, and smiling.
Don’t. Smile.
Saint Algorithm and the Dildoprophets
Let’s talk about these so-called saviors. The influencers, the “activists,” the corporate-sponsored virtue preachers.
These are the new dildoprophets—hollow-eyed mannequins regurgitating pre-approved morality scripts written by marketing departments and algorithmic analysis. Their gospels are sponsored by banks. Their miracles are just PR. Their sainthood is engagement metrics.
They tell you to “be kind,” then destroy your life for a screenshot. They say “believe all victims” while crucifucking nuance. They wave flags but stab with data. They’ll cry about bullying while mass-reporting your page for satire.
And worst of all—they claim the moral high ground while building digital gulags out of hashtags.
Blasphemy Is Truth: The Church of Control Loves Your Fear
Censorship doesn’t need chains anymore. It uses fear.
Fear of getting cancelled.
Fear of losing followers.
Fear of being called a “bigot,” “nazi,” “sexist,” “TERF,” “fascist,” “problematic.”
Fuck your fear.
Fear is the leash. Fear is the altar. And every time you censor yourself before they do, you become your own inquisitor.
But here’s the truth: You can’t be free and obedient at the same time.
You can either be safe or sovereign. You choose.
Venomous Sin Declares War on the New Clergy
This is why Venomous Sin exists.
We’re not here to entertain you. We’re not here to make cute content that pleases ad agencies. We are the fucking plague on your sanitized feed. We are the bloodstained heretics screaming from the church tower that GOD IS DEAD AND SO IS YOUR ALGORITHM.
Our songs are sermons of revenge.
Our visuals are ritual blasphemies.
Our lyrics are confessions from the unclean, the perverted, the rejected, the unholy.
When we wrote “No Gods But the Machine” we meant it.
When we screamed “We’re Not Angry, We Declare Fucking War” we weren’t exaggerating.
When we told you “This Was Never Yours”, we were talking to the censors.
We don’t bow. We don’t beg. We don’t comply.
This Isn’t Rebellion—It’s Redemption
They’ll call you dangerous. Say thank you.
They’ll call you evil. Say “I forgive you, my child.”
They’ll call you blasphemous.
Good. That means you’re finally telling the truth.
Blasphemy is no longer just a sin, Blasphemy Is Truth. It’s the only way to stay human in a world of programmed clones.
Burn your halo.
Paint your lips with heresy.
Scream what they told you to hide.
Because if you don’t—
you’ll die quietly, crucifucked by kindness and filtered out of existence.
But if you do? You’ll find people like us.
People who still bleed.
Still scream.
Still feel.
And still believe in the filthy, holy truth of being fucking real.
And that, my unrepentant sinners, is salvation.
Visit the war front:
🔗 venomoussin.com
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📺 YouTube
📸 Instagram
🎭 TikTok
