Digital Penetration

Everything is sex -- copulating ones and zeros, coupled in orgiastic repetition create everything. Sound is nothing more than the proper order of binary ones and zeros in an endless code. Pictures, holograms are infinite numbers of pixels, which are made up of the sub-atomic fucking zero-cunt and one-cock. The atom is no longer, the quark is no longer, the smallest unit are infinitesimal cunts and cocks copulating in furious repetition to form the tiniest building blocks. The zeros can be enormous, stretched-out, whorish, black hole cunts or the tightest, tiniest of virgin holes, but always a hole and always filed by a one, a pencil, a dildo, a banana, a cock or phallus to fill the space and continue the sequence and to create.

In the beginning, God created a one, a cock. While the cock slept he removed the nothingness that already surrounded the cock and created the cunt. On the next day the computer takes the prolific cock-ones and cunt-zeros and creates the Word. The Word is a binary code of copulating ones and zeros. The Word was not the beginning, it was fucking cocks and pussys. Everything I write on this page, looking deeper into the depths of the word processor and each letter, each space, each comma is an orgy of digital penetrations, cocks following cunts, cunts following cocks, dicks chasing dicks and quim covering quim in a dry digital fuck.

I am not communicating with words. My words are reduced to digital coitus and returned through an orgasmic computer chip into the readers brain, but the dry numeric fuck continues. Words of sorrow, words of joy, words of expectation, the very Word itself are digital penetrations, nothing more, so everything must be sex.

Eventually all the ones and all the zeros, all the cocks and all the pussies, and the words and pictures that the computer chip has helped them conceive, collapse and are sucked into the giant, gravitational pull of the darkest and blackest of holes. Nothing can escape the eternal and final fuck. Nothing is left, but to enjoy every little copulation, even the courtesy fucks, until the black cunt hole of death sucks you in, gets you off and takes the last remaining life. Each sperm dies. Hundreds, millions, billions of sperm suffocate and die every day oozing out lifeless of a wet pussy. This is the final end for the dance of ones and zeros -- the ones slide out lifeless and limp and dead. Yet there are always more to once again attempt to make something out of nothing more than a 1 and 0. 1200 dots per inch, each dot hundreds of binary codes, one square inch of a million fucks, struggling to create coherence from sex. The coherence is transient, requiring more fucking.

Intuitively, we humans recognize that the computer has breached our very core, exposed the sole reason for existence -- sex. Email, files, jpegs and avi’s capture and create life. In the constant copulating ones and zeros, we gain the illusion of immortality. The sheer madness and consistency of the entering and exiting in the information super-highway--the mother of all vaginal walls-- coated and fucked by ones and zeros buzzing between computers -- gives us the Word, the information, eternal life. Thus we have the phenomenon of cameras being placed in apartments and fucked into the WEB every three minutes so that the life can be captured and made immortal, because those ones can fuck those zeros and never get off, never coming but for all eternity loop over and over capturing the Now in an instant of digital fucking imagery.

It is not just the videos or pictures of our lives. We desperately send digital signals with our voices, sending our fucking voices into eternal ether, with the latest personal communication system. I am immortal. My words are reduced to microscopic cocks and slopping pussies undulating up and down endlessly, repeating to the point of pain, out past Saturn’s rings and Jupiter’s moons, the fucking words float. Nothing is left but to enjoy the most current fuck. To focus on a potential fuck or a past fuck is nothing more than digital trickery. The potential fuck is still the most current digits penetrating the computer brain for the Now, because the future itself will be just more variations of the same ones and zeros, fucking in our digital brains and creating our reality as its offspring.

I used to think that logic would prevent me from understanding the mystical, but I am a logical prophet and seer of the 1 and the 0. The variations are endless -- 10, 01, 001, 010, 11, 00. 69 is a still just more 1’s and 0’s. 1 is the tounge. 1 is the clit. The woman is a man. 0 is the vaginal opening, 0 is the male piss-hole. The man is a woman, all that is needed is a tiny enough 1 to be the cock to fuck the piss-hole, and that cock will have a piss hole, so the daisy chain of dicks and pussies can continue without end. But I am the prophet and I can prophesy truly and exactly. Everything is sex. A one sliding up next to a zero. Nothing more, nothing less, all can be reduced, until it is collapsed into the blackhole cunt. When the fucking stops, life stops, but as long as the fucking continues we are alive. The digitals fuck on the face as the wind blows across the cheek. Even sex is neural ones and zeros fucking their way up the spine to explode in outlandish patterns of orgasmic 1-0-1-0 fucks.

Life is simple. Should the digital fucks be fought or embraced? Society fears embracing digital sex, yet leaps into the Internet with both feet, as five foolish virgin women have no oil and five have filled their tight little oil lamps with juice and lit it on fire to accept the bridegroom’s cock. The story of the foolish virgins is about lubrication, a parable of preparing and oiling up the vaginal orifice for entrance. Take me, I am a willing 0, lubricated and ready for entry. No one really wants a dry fuck, because it won’t stay dry for long, as the tears and blood painfully slick up the passageway. So we are oiling the black hole cunt with the rotting sperm of the information superfuck, preparing for the collapse into warm nothingness. The prophet proclaims that the flow of information lubricates the larger orifice and prepares to take us in and extract our life in an orgasmic death shudder.

Sperm must have mouths or pussies to fuck each other. The slippery little tails flipping into the mouth for a spermazota coupling. I am the creator. Yet everything I create, including a spermazi 69 is nothing more than variations on the binary 1-0 fuck going on in my computer’s chip -- the swinger’s pad of the digital information era. Intel is a waterbed manufacturer, cramming in as many different locales for the 1s and 0s to fuck as fast and as often as possible. Am I nothing more than a combination of digit fucks? Yes, I am a zero and a one - a digital hermaphrodite fucking myself into sentience. The miracle of life is that as long as we keep the ones and zeros fucking we exist. Descartes had no ghost in the machine -- it was simply sex, creating. Only when the creation stop does life stop. When I die my ones and zeros will fly off into outer space coupling with other ones and zeros to form a new reality. The comfortable natural bed of my synapses cease and the impulses go out on the Saturday night of the soul to find some other cock or pussy to fuck. I fade away, being reborn. The soul drop is the fucking 1 and 0. Intelligence before spirit, the intelligence is the fundamental elements 1 and 0. A new elemental chart for the chemistry student shows that this entire existence is made up either of a 1 or a 0 or both, and always fucking.

I used to want answers for all of the existential and religious dilemas. Every philosophy left me flat and unanswered. I have been searching and now, in this age of information, the holy grail appears to be at my feet. The chalice holds not the blood of a Christ who suffered, but a one and a zero, alpha and omega, the male and the female, the opposites coupling to make life and truth.

I never understood the atonement. I heard the lessons-- Christ died and suffered in Gethsemane because we are sinners and need to be reconciled to God. The atonement is a mystical way of reaching at-one-ment with God. Fuck that. It makes no sense. I am not alienated from God. I am God. I am Satan. I have the 1 and the 0 coursing through my veins, fucking as I type this sentence. I just need to recognize what I possess and recognize the towering phallus and the enveloping vaginal walls. Christ died, but probably so that his 1s and 0s could be sent out amongst the rest of us. I grab one of Christ’s 1s out of the air to fuck my pussy 0 and I am reborn in Christ. I have achieved an At-one-ment or an At-cock-ment. I grab one of Christ’s 0s from the universe of words on the digital page and slip it onto my giant throbbing dildo-esque cock for an awe-inspiring rubber fuck. I have achieve At-zero-ment, At-omega-ment and At-cunt-ment. Christ was the Word, but so am I and the Word is nothing more than some copulating digits.