Hi, I’m Meathead. You may recall that one article I wrote a long time ago here at the Buddyhead, in which I addressed certain comments made by former shock-rocker Marilyn Manson. For those of you with the memory span of the average goldfish, and for those of you who actually are goldfish (hey, we’ll take whatever readers we can get), allow me to hook your fishy ass up with a quick recap.
Long ago, on Christmas Eve 2007, Marilyn Manson found himself fresh out of drugs, and in his efforts to obtain more drugs, ended up inviting Travis (you know, Buddyhead Travis) over. You know, just like anybody else would do in that situation. Everything was going great until sometime last year when, in an interview published in the LA Weekly, Travis pointed out how much of a big fat phony Marilyn was/is. This eventually found its way back to Marilyn, which I personally found a little bizarre, since I thought he only read Aleister Crowley and Lewis Carroll novels (while masturbating in his own feces). I guess he also picks up a copy of LA Weekly on occasion for some variety (while masturbating in his own feces). Anyhoo, when he found out that there was someone out there who was actually saying unflattering things about him, he got a tad perturbed, pulled up his pants and rushed to his computer so he could update his MySpace blog with this borderline-coherent message:
I can, but do not need to defend myself And the absurd accusations that the average press has clinged onto. If we need a nude photo of me to prove that I am far different than the soon-to-be-murdered-in-their-home press has decided to fabricate, that is easy. But if one more “journalist” makes a cavalier statement about me and my band, I will personally or with my fans help, greet them at their home and discover just how much they believe in their freedom of speech. I dare you all to write one more thing that you won’t say to my face. Because I will make you say it. In that manner. That is a threat. Mm
Call me old-fashioned, but I think posting vague death threats (and nude photo threats – I don’t know which is worse) on MySpace is pretty silly. Maybe when I was fifteen and actually listened to Marilyn Manson, I might have– well, no, I probably would have thought it was lame then, too. I responded to Marilyn’s death threats with that thing I mentioned in the first paragraph, essentially pointing out the obvious. The “story” made its way around the interwebs and even hit Rolling Stone (seriously, get a life Rolling Stone), but I considered the case pretty much closed, pending Marilyn actually coming over and murdering me and Travis. Of course, he probably has no idea who I am (if only it were mutual), so it would probably only be Travis getting murdered, but that would still be a bummer. But since Marilyn is little more than a Jon Lovitz-shaped windbag these days, I think both of us are pretty much in the clear.
Fast forward to… right about now. LA Weekly‘s Erin Broadley, who wrote the Buddyhead article, received a text message inviting her to have “champagne” with Marilyn Manson. Instead of doing the sensible thing and calling the police and changing her phone number, she actually took him up on the offer (no word on whether there was actually “champagne” or just Miller High Life, “The Champagne of Beers”). During their meeting, the elephant in the room (other than Marilyn) was addressed. Marilyn claimed first that he didn’t remember the Buddyhead thing (so calling up the author of the Buddyhead thing = total coincidence), and then claimed he sort of remembered it but it ain’t no thang:
“It probably wasn’t smart because of the whole Columbine thing,” Manson admits, referencing the 1999 Colorado high school massacre and the media scrutiny that Manson and “goth culture” faced in its aftermath.
He doesn’t go any deeper than to say the MySpace threats weren’t intended for L.A. Weekly, and alludes to the fact that he was probably under the influence when he wrote them. He then excuses himself to go powder his face.
So, in case any of you were still concerned for Travis’ (or, to a lesser degree, my own) safety, great news! Marilyn Manson was just really high when he made those death threats. You can all breathe easy now. On a similar note: if you thought his last… like, eight albums sucked an enormous bag of hairy, sweaty dicks, great news!
Then again… what if he’s just trying to lull us into a false sense of security? What if he’s all “Hey Buddyhead, it’s cool, you dudes can come outside now, I won’t murder you,” and as soon as we fall for it and open the door, BAM! He does something that kills us! Like, oh, I don’t know, stabbing us in the face with a Nazi knife or something. What if this whole “out of shape, balding, middle aged cokehead who thinks no one notices he’s not 25 anymore” routine is just a clever ruse?
Nah.
