There’s a war goin’ on out there, and the battlefield is sticky. Slick with effusions from the cum cannons. A war waged by an army of cummy clowns and fornicating fools armed with ooey gooey uzis ready to paint the world creamy off-white with a silvery sheen. Splatoon for goons. A T-9000 liquid metal jizz golem gone rogue.
Of course, every war needs good men to wage it. It’s just—where the fuck are we supposed to find them? I don’t exactly feel inspired when I look in the mirror. I see a miserable fuck. An iniquitous manchild raised to seek an object motherwife and believe that it is my right and entitlement to do so.
I know what I see, and I gotta look past it and take the next step. The only way to fix this is to become the kind of man who’s willing to put on the makeup, to replace one clown with another.
It’s time to be the type of man this world needs, and I’m asking you to join me.
We need men who can kill death with their hearts, and strangle orgasms into life.
We need men who recognize the power of cumming for love and pleasure, and not for power and domination.
What we really need is men who know the meaty middle path: power of being both hard and soft. Men who recognize that Love is the Law, and the thing about law is that it needs to be enforced.
It’s possible we may also need to know how to load and fire a rifle.
Ours is a revolution with a Zardoz twist. Red-bikini-clad wasteland warriors, double-barrel-chested and ready to upgrade their armaments for the strange new age (it’s cumming—can you hear it?)
We need an army of wanton, wacky, whack-off warriors, raised up from brutality who can step beyond that severed-head slogan, ready to kill their own gods: “The penis is evil. The penis shoots seeds.” “The gun is good—the gun shoots death and purifies the earth.” Maybe that’s a start, but I still want a splooge cannon. I want my guns to shoot flowers and spray cum. I want wild and writhing and uncontrollable life to teem madly and defiantly from the bombs I drop on grey, ossified cities. I want a Cum Brotherhood and a Cum Sisterhood and a Cum Themsterhood to rule triune over the rotten landscape of landfills and dessertified data centre disease and spray blasphemous trinity seed upon the ruin and let the hot goop build new worlds.
Like oceanic mushrooms learning to eat oil, cum punk cum has gotta shoot out over the toxic wasteland it inherits, firing with blast-beat precision from meat-beat cannons and smothering, devouring the diseases disseminated by the skeletal revenant death piss of plutocratic patriarchal poison.
We need to burn the old world down and douse the flames with firehoses of seminal spume. Our war is a war for death and the birth that takes place after it. Even a rotting corpse feeds flies, feeds frogs, feeds snakes, feeds hawks. The circle of life is nothing without the death becoming goo.
One death feeds unfathomable lives. So let’s start by killing this empire and hanging its kings and quartering its collaborators. I wanna cum blood on the faces of misanthropic billionaire rapists whose lives are dedicated to plutonic ends and pedophile gym teachers preaching locker room slogans as hateful predatory death gospel. I wanna fill their throats with hot deadly fluid. I wanna fuck my friends while slitting open tyrants like autopsy specimens so we can bathe in their blood with Bathoryesque delight. Let their last emissions be shit and effluvia—they have cummed their last, and it has always been a putrid substance anyway, a black and purple Ghostbuster monster jizz running through the sewers of cities great and small, a noisesome cum, filling us all with rage and despair. We have no use for it, and never have. We’ll sever their cocks and cut off their thumbs and cum to their screams.
There will be casualties of course. Gunslinging gooners gone too soon, jerkoff jesters jettisoned from life in the jizzy jihad—our horny holy war. We’re gonna have to break open a few eggs if we want to reencode life: every seed splits to let the first shoot wriggle through the soil.
And when the empire does die I wanna be dancing in the streets with a smile on my white-painted face: a raunchy reveller among the thrusting throngs, with fire in their eyes and warmth in their crotches and bloodlust and love in in their hearts. We’ll worship whores and become whores and reign in slutty salvation in the new pornocracy.
There’s a new era on the horizon. Put on the make-up; cross the trenches with me. We can be a part of making it happen, because either way it’s cumming. It’s cumming. It’s fucking cumming!