War Waged Between Your Thighs

big pricks with little dicks, too drained to resist

The War on Ya, Moron

There’s a war on, you idiot—
and they’ve sold it to you as a pin-up.
Glossed her up, legs stretched over the carcass of some nameless field.
Red lips, red blood, red flags,
all dripping the same thick, sweet poison.

They’ve wrapped death in silk stockings,
plastered her face on every screen,
seduced you with her curves as bombs fell behind her smile.
She’s the new goddess of the battlefield,
made to make you forget
the bodies piling up under her stilettos.

"Serve your country," they purr,
while their teeth sink into the flesh of your reason.
Their slogans crawl under your skin,
turn your spine to a flagpole.
But the flag?
It’s stitched from lingerie and lies.

War is sexy now.
Bayonets as love letters,
rifles caressed like lovers,
the battlefield a stage where they parade her as your muse.
You’ll fight harder if you’re horny, won’t you?
If you see her face in the bullet's reflection
or hear her moan in the roar of the guns.

But let me rip the fantasy apart.
Let me show you her real face—
The sunken eyes of a mother cradling ash.
The mutilated mouth of a girl who kissed shrapnel.
The hands of a child clutching a flag that won’t keep her warm.

They’ve sold you a siren’s song,
a grotesque lullaby to drown out the screams.
And you’re buying it,
marching to your own slaughter with a hard-on for her lies.

There’s a war on, moron,
and it doesn’t care if you find it pretty.
It doesn’t care if you fight for her name.
It only wants your body—
to chew it up and spit it out,
to pin it to the altar of propaganda,
another sacrifice to the god of profit.

Wake up.
Wipe the lipstick from your eyes.
There’s nothing sexy about dying for a lie.

Sex as a Weapon: The Hidden War for Your Life Force

In an era where distraction reigns supreme, sex has become the ultimate weapon. Not the sacred act of connection or creation, but the sanitized, commodified, endlessly scrolling version—the kind that drains your life force and leaves you hollow. The poems, The War on Ya, Moron and its accompanying commentary, expose this grotesque reality with raw, biting language. Let us dissect the layers beneath the poetry, uncovering the sinister mechanisms at play in a society obsessed with lust, control, and consumption.

The Pornification of Society

Pornography is no longer confined to the dark corners of the internet; it is woven into the fabric of daily life. Advertisements flash heavenly bodies with impossible proportions, social media rewards seductive posturing, and "empowerment" is sold as performative exhibitionism. This isn’t liberation—it’s entrapment.

The poems illustrate how this perpetual stimulation isn’t about pleasure or freedom. It’s about siphoning energy, hooking individuals on dopamine hits that keep them passive and distracted. From "big pricks with little dicks" to "heavenly sluts with oiled butts," the imagery is intentionally crude because the reality is crude. We’re bombarded by fantasies so overproduced they’re no longer human, but tools of manipulation.

Weaponized Sexuality in War

The link between sex and propaganda is as old as war itself. The seductive pin-up girls of World War II weren’t just morale boosters; they were psychological tools. The poems take this concept further, showing how modern war weaponizes sexuality not to inspire soldiers, but to obscure the brutality of conflict. Death is dressed in silk stockings and red lipstick, distracting us from the atrocities unfolding behind the scenes.

In The War on Ya, Moron, the "flag stitched from lingerie and lies" encapsulates this dynamic. The violence is sanitized, eroticized, and sold back to us as entertainment, further deadening our ability to see war for what it is—a machine feeding on human lives.

The Extraction of Life Force

The commentary goes beyond surface-level critique to reveal the deeper implications of this phenomenon: the draining of life force. Sexual energy, in many spiritual traditions, is considered the core of vitality and creativity. But in a society where sex is reduced to screens and fantasies, this energy is harvested, not harnessed.

“Your lust, your life force, your fire—poured into the endless feed,” writes the poet. Each click, each moment of indulgence, contributes to a system designed to keep individuals too exhausted, too distracted, to fight back. The poems are a call to reclaim this energy, to recognize that the endless pursuit of digital desire isn’t just harmless fun; it’s enslavement.

A Society on Its Knees

The poems' harsh tone—“feel hard, you retard,” “geezers, using teasers”—is deliberate. It jolts the reader out of complacency, mirroring the brutal honesty required to confront this reality. Society isn’t just complicit in its own destruction; it’s actively participating, kneeling willingly before the altar of lust and consumerism.

This extends beyond porn. It’s in the algorithms that prioritize sexualized content, the industries that profit from your clicks, and the culture that equates self-worth with desirability. Sexuality has been weaponized at every level, not to empower, but to control.

Reclaiming Sovereignty

The poems and their context aren’t just criticisms—they’re calls to action. They demand that we wake up, that we recognize the war being waged against our minds, bodies, and spirits. Reclaiming sovereignty starts with awareness:

• Recognize the Manipulation: Understand how media, advertising, and even social norms exploit sexuality.

• Rechannel Sexual Energy: Instead of letting it drain into screens and fantasies, direct it into creation, passion, and purpose.

• Fight the System: Reject the culture of distraction and commodification. Support movements and platforms that prioritize authenticity over exploitation.

The weaponization of sexuality is one of the most insidious forms of control in modern society. Through the lens of gritty, unapologetic poetry, The War on Ya, Moron and its companion piece shine a harsh light on this reality, calling for nothing less than a revolution of the spirit. This isn’t just a war for your attention—it’s a war for your soul.

The Backstory: Weaponizing Lust, Draining Life

They sold you the illusion of desire,
slick and glistening, thighs parted just enough to keep you chasing.
Geezers, using teasers,
big pricks with little dicks,
clickbait orgasms in 4K definition.

The battlefield isn’t lined with trenches anymore;
it’s glowing from your phone screen,
a war waged between your thighs and your mind.
Every scroll is a bullet, every ad a grenade,
blowing holes through your sovereignty.

They call it entertainment, but it’s extraction.
Your lust, your life force, your fire—
poured into the endless feed of heavenly sluts with oiled butts,
angels on their knees, selling sins for your clicks.

And you’re too blind to see it,
too drained to resist.
Feel hard, you retard, they’re laughing as you empty yourself,
grinding your soul into pixels.

They weaponized your hunger,
hijacked your biology with soft moans and harder edits.
You think you’re free?
Your shackles are lined with silicone and synthetic whispers.

Porn isn’t just porn anymore.
It’s a siphon, a pipeline,
direct from your root chakra to their offshore accounts.
They drained your potency,
packaged your fantasies,
sold you the dream while robbing you blind.

And in the silence that follows,
after you’ve spilled what’s left of your will,
there’s nothing.
Just the cold hum of a machine that’s still hungry.

They’ve weaponized sex to keep you weak,
to keep you docile.
Not just on the battlefield of war,
but in every corner of society.
You’re too busy chasing shadows to fight back.

This isn’t about love, or passion,
or even pleasure.
It’s about control.

Wake up to the scam,
to the war waged against your spirit.
Your life force isn’t theirs to drain.
Take it back. Reclaim your fire,
and burn the machine to ash.

Woo Woo a Joo Joo: How Babylonian Magic Deceives in the Neuro-War

In this digital battlefield of the mind, ancient tactics meet modern technology. Babylonian magic—arcane manipulation of symbols, language, and perception—is alive and well, but now weaponized for the neuro-war. No longer confined to temples and rituals, it’s embedded in algorithms, screens, and the subliminal whispers of a system designed to enslave.

The Spell of Babylonian Magic

“Woo woo, a joo joo,” they chant—not in the ancient tongue, but through the neon glow of advertising, the hypnotic cadence of media, and the endless scroll of the algorithm. Babylonian magic isn’t literal sorcery anymore; it’s the art of perceptual manipulation. The ancients knew the power of symbols, archetypes, and hidden meaning to control minds. Today, this magic has evolved into:

• Symbolic Traps: Logos, icons, and brands act as modern sigils, embedding themselves in your psyche. The golden arches of fast food or the bitten apple of tech supremacy—they aren’t just logos, they’re talismans of control.

• Linguistic Enchantments: Buzzwords like “freedom,” “empowerment,” and “manifest” are deployed like spells, weaving illusions of choice while binding you to the system.

• Subliminal Conditioning: Music, movies, and even memes embed messages beneath your conscious awareness, programming desires and beliefs you think are your own.

The Neuro-War

In the neuro-war, your attention is the battleground, your thoughts the spoils. Babylonian tactics are perfect for this war because they exploit the vulnerabilities of the human brain:

• Sensory Overload: The flood of information keeps your mind in a state of confusion, unable to discern truth from illusion. The system doesn’t want you to think; it wants you to react.

• Hijacking Archetypes: Ancient symbols of divinity, femininity, and masculinity are twisted into caricatures—distracting you with desire, fear, or nostalgia while draining your autonomy.

• Emotional Triggers: Fear, lust, and outrage are the easiest buttons to press. Babylonian magic taps into these primal drives, short-circuiting logic and critical thinking.

Woo Woo and the Joo Joo

The “woo woo” is the allure, the promise of something magical and transformative. It’s the wellness industry selling you crystals while mining your insecurities. It’s the self-help gurus offering enlightenment for $1,999. The “joo joo” is the trick, the sleight of hand that keeps you enslaved to the very thing that promises to free you.

• Wellness as a Weapon: Babylonian magic thrives in the commodification of spirituality. Instead of liberation, you’re handed talismans that bind—designer yoga mats, chakra candles, and mantras pre-packaged for consumption.

• Technological Enchantment: The glow of your smartphone is a modern oracle, offering dopamine hits in exchange for your soul. Each notification is a micro-spell, tethering you to the system.

• Narrative Control: Through movies, news, and social media, stories are woven that shape your worldview, dictating what you fear, what you love, and what you fight for.

The Babylonian Blueprint

The blueprint is ancient but devastatingly effective. Babylonian magic has always been about control—of perception, of behavior, of belief. It works by:

• Creating Illusions: Reality is blurred with fantasy. You think you’re choosing, but the choices are all part of the same spell.

• Draining Vital Energy: Through distraction, consumerism, and overstimulation, your life force is siphoned. The neuro-war isn’t just about your mind—it’s about your essence.

• Binding with Fear and Desire: The oldest tools of control. Fear keeps you obedient; desire keeps you chasing the mirage.

Breaking the Spell

To escape the neuro-war, you must become the magician, not the pawn. Babylonian magic can deceive, but only if you remain unaware of its mechanics.

• Reclaim Your Attention: Stop reacting to every stimulus. Be intentional with your focus—where attention flows, energy goes.

• Decode the Symbols: Learn the language of archetypes and sigils. When you understand their power, they lose their grip.

• Turn Off the Machine: Step away from the screens, the noise, the endless scroll. Silence is the enemy of Babylonian magic, for in silence, the spell unravels.

• Embrace True Sovereignty: Sovereignty begins with self-awareness. Question every belief, every desire, every fear. Are they yours, or were they planted there?

The Final Act

“Woo woo, a joo joo”—it’s not just a chant; it’s a warning. The neuro-war is real, and Babylonian magic is its weapon. But the antidote is within you: awareness, intention, and the courage to see through the illusion. Refuse to be a pawn. Become the architect of your own reality. The war is only won when you reclaim the sacred fire they tried to steal.