AKA, Why I Don’t Watch Or Read The “News” Pt. 1679
“What a coincidence!”
AKA, Why I Don’t Watch Or Read The “News” Pt. 1679
“What a coincidence!”
I was a massive fan of Tori Amos when I was 13 or so. I used to sit in my bedroom in Penmon drawing comics listening to Under The Pink on repeat for days at a time. I had that famous VOX magazine cover featuring her, Bjork and PJ Harvey on my wall. The headline read, “TITS! LIPS! HIPS! POWER!”
I had a look online to see what she was up to last night, and did not recognise her.
I was in the third row at a super intimate piano show and Q and A session with the singer about eight years ago, and she still looked like herself. In the intervening years it seems she has falled victim to the horror that is the youth obsessed pedo vampire entertainment complex, the same diseased machine that protects child molesters and exploits children on TV and in “news”papers every week.
I haven’t had a TV since 2003, but occasionally I’m stuck in an airport or something and they’ll have a big-ass screen upon which more often than not, you’ll see some bright orange old man sneering at some children, dolled up like adults, shucking and jiving in front of a baying audience of distorted faces, a Woman Of Age at his side, cosigning the abuse. Invariably the children will be judged… some told they are wonderful, built up for the inevitable Fall, others told they are shit, and made to cry there and then in front of The World. Week upon week millions of people partake in these bizarre shows that, with the sound down and from a distance look like nothing less than pedophilic energy harvesting rituals, innocence sacrificed to demons and insatiable old gods like the tales of barbaric pre-so-called civilisation you read about in yellowed history books.
We can scream at TV presenters and programme commissioners all day long, we can thrust sheets of paper at the prime minister and we can have a thousand “wide ranging enquiries”, but we might as well piss in a wound. It won’t make the pestilence go away.
People talk about a culture that “existed” in entertainment, as if it’s in the past. As if these sickening things that are finally being reported by a media that helped hide them for decades are ghost stories from a bygone ara. They are not.
The root of the issue is plain to see. The Entertainment Complex is, and always has been, a pedophilic vampire, preying on the young, making monsters of the rest of us. It is that that we must change if we are to cure this sickness.
A simple solution then:
Don’t watch so-called light entertainment that exploits children. Don’t buy or read “news”papers that treat these ritualistic roman circus acts as “news”. Don’t support record labels or artists that pimp out children.
Otherwise, we are complicit, and we are guilty.
Right! My bag of tricks is packed, my ride is here, and I am off north to host the Virgin Media Our House PARTY SPOT at V Festival North for the second year running. POW!
Last year was so successful they’ve multiplied the potential party scope of this by three times, AND I’ve been commissioned to make a visual movie film record of the proceedings, so Mighty Tom Coles and Benson are in tow with cameras and lights and tripods and things to document the proceedings. Turn up and help us make a beautiful artwork!
Once again the Clash DJs will be rocking the living crap out of the place, while I leap up and down on the spot for two days straight, popping back to my Nan’s house to sleep when it gets past cinderella time. I am excited, and while I am leaving my wife alone with the tummy wriggler, I did build us a new bed last night, so there is balance in the universe. This is a momentous moment in our family history – our first brand new bed and mattress! The last one we found behind the bins outside, after wishing for a replacement for the spring-burst death trap that came with our rented accommodation. That hulking great we found behind the bins was not the cleanest looking sleeper in the world, but it was a step up at the time. Over the years it deteriorated to a level of outright back breaking hostility, of course, but now, in this auspicious year of our Lord 2012 AD, our family can afford to buy brand new king sized beds with comfy and firm mattress and John lewis pillows. It is a joyous time, and proof that hard work, consistence, and a dogged refusal to give up and get a Proper Job pays off.
Right, see you at our House! I’ll be the one in the Super Mario lounge pants leading the crowd in prayers to the internet. Keep an eye on the Blob Blog – I’ve routed my instagram to there, so you’ll be able to see what I’m up to. it’s gonna fuck up the front page, as I haven’t sussed how to auto generate thumbnails, but we will have to live with that. Let us boogie!
It is sad to think that the first few people on earth needed no books, movies, games or music to inspire cold-blooded murder. The day that Cain bashed his brother Abel’s brains in, the only motivation he needed was his own human disposition to violence. Whether you interpret the Bible as literature or as the final word of whatever God may be, Christianity has given us an image of death and sexuality that we have based our culture around. A half-naked dead man hangs in most homes and around our necks, and we have just taken that for granted all our lives. Is it a symbol of hope or hopelessness? The world’s most famous murder-suicide was also the birth of the death icon — the blueprint for celebrity. Unfortunately, for all of their inspiring morality, nowhere in the Gospels is intelligence praised as a virtue.
A lot of people forget or never realize that I started my band as a criticism of these very issues of despair and hypocrisy. The name Marilyn Manson has never celebrated the sad fact that America puts killers on the cover of Time magazine, giving them as much notoriety as our favorite movie stars. From Jesse James to Charles Manson, the media, since their inception, have turned criminals into folk heroes. They just created two new ones when they plastered those dipshits Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris’ pictures on the front of every newspaper. Don’t be surprised if every kid who gets pushed around has two new idols.
We applaud the creation of a bomb whose sole purpose is to destroy all of mankind, and we grow up watching our president’s brains splattered all over Texas. Times have not become more violent. They have just become more televised. Does anyone think the Civil War was the least bit civil? If television had existed, you could be sure they would have been there to cover it, or maybe even participate in it, like their violent car chase of Princess Di. Disgusting vultures looking for corpses, exploiting, fucking, filming and serving it up for our hungry appetites in a gluttonous display of endless human stupidity.
When it comes down to who’s to blame for the high school murders in Littleton, Colorado, throw a rock and you’ll hit someone who’s guilty. We’re the people who sit back and tolerate children owning guns, and we’re the ones who tune in and watch the up-to-the-minute details of what they do with them. I think it’s terrible when anyone dies, especially if it is someone you know and love. But what is more offensive is that when these tragedies happen, most people don’t really care any more than they would about the season finale of Friends or The Real World. I was dumbfounded as I watched the media snake right in, not missing a teardrop, interviewing the parents of dead children, televising the funerals. Then came the witch hunt.
Man’s greatest fear is chaos. It was unthinkable that these kids did not have a simple black-and-white reason for their actions. And so a scapegoat was needed. I remember hearing the initial reports from Littleton, that Harris and Klebold were wearing makeup and were dressed like Marilyn Manson, whom they obviously must worship, since they were dressed in black. Of course, speculation snowballed into making me the poster boy for everything that is bad in the world. These two idiots weren’t wearing makeup, and they weren’t dressed like me or like goths. Since Middle America has not heard of the music they did listen to (KMFDM and Rammstein, among others), the media picked something they thought was similar.
Responsible journalists have reported with less publicity that Harris and Klebold were not Marilyn Manson fans — that they even disliked my music. Even if they were fans, that gives them no excuse, nor does it mean that music is to blame. Did we look for James Huberty’s inspiration when he gunned down people at McDonald’s? What did Timothy McVeigh like to watch? What about David Koresh, Jim Jones? Do you think entertainment inspired Kip Kinkel, or should we blame the fact that his father bought him the guns he used in the Springfield, Oregon, murders? What inspires Bill Clinton to blow people up in Kosovo? Was it something that Monica Lewinsky said to him? Isn’t killing just killing, regardless if it’s in Vietnam or Jonesboro, Arkansas? Why do we justify one, just because it seems to be for the right reasons? Should there ever be a right reason? If a kid is old enough to drive a car or buy a gun, isn’t he old enough to be held personally responsible for what he does with his car or gun? Or if he’s a teenager, should someone else be blamed because he isn’t as enlightened as an eighteen-year-old?
America loves to find an icon to hang its guilt on. But, admittedly, I have assumed the role of Antichrist; I am the Nineties voice of individuality, and people tend to associate anyone who looks and behaves differently with illegal or immoral activity. Deep down, most adults hate people who go against the grain. It’s comical that people are naive enough to have forgotten Elvis, Jim Morrison and Ozzy so quickly. All of them were subjected to the same age-old arguments, scrutiny and prejudice. I wrote a song called “Lunchbox,” and some journalists have interpreted it as a song about guns. Ironically, the song is about being picked on and fighting back with my Kiss lunch box, which I used as a weapon on the playground. In 1979, metal lunch boxes were banned because they were considered dangerous weapons in the hands of delinquents. I also wrote a song called “Get Your Gunn.” The title is spelled with two n’s because the song was a reaction to the murder of Dr. David Gunn, who was killed in Florida by pro-life activists while I was living there. That was the ultimate hypocrisy I witnessed growing up: that these people killed someone in the name of being “pro-life.”
The somewhat positive messages of these songs are usually the ones that sensationalists misinterpret as promoting the very things I am decrying. Right now, everyone is thinking of how they can prevent things like Littleton. How do you prevent AIDS, world war, depression, car crashes? We live in a free country, but with that freedom there is a burden of personal responsibility. Rather than teaching a child what is moral and immoral, right and wrong, we first and foremost can establish what the laws that govern us are. You can always escape hell by not believing in it, but you cannot escape death and you cannot escape prison.
It is no wonder that kids are growing up more cynical; they have a lot of information in front of them. They can see that they are living in a world that’s made of bullshit. In the past, there was always the idea that you could turn and run and start something better. But now America has become one big mall, and because of the Internet and all of the technology we have, there’s nowhere to run. People are the same everywhere. Sometimes music, movies and books are the only things that let us feel like someone else feels like we do. I’ve always tried to let people know it’s OK, or better, if you don’t fit into the program. Use your imagination — if some geek from Ohio can become something, why can’t anyone else with the willpower and creativity?
I chose not to jump into the media frenzy and defend myself, though I was begged to be on every single TV show in existence. I didn’t want to contribute to these fame-seeking journalists and opportunists looking to fill their churches or to get elected because of their self-righteous finger-pointing. They want to blame entertainment? Isn’t religion the first real entertainment? People dress up in costumes, sing songs and dedicate themselves in eternal fandom. Everyone will agree that nothing was more entertaining than Clinton shooting off his prick and then his bombs in true political form. And the news — that’s obvious. So is entertainment to blame? I’d like media commentators to ask themselves, because their coverage of the event was some of the most gruesome entertainment any of us have seen.
I think that the National Rifle Association is far too powerful to take on, so most people choose Doom, The Basketball Diaries or yours truly. This kind of controversy does not help me sell records or tickets, and I wouldn’t want it to. I’m a controversial artist, one who dares to have an opinion and bothers to create music and videos that challenge people’s ideas in a world that is watered-down and hollow. In my work I examine the America we live in, and I’ve always tried to show people that the devil we blame our atrocities on is really just each one of us. So don’t expect the end of the world to come one day out of the blue — it’s been happening every day for a long time.
MARILYN MANSON (May 28, 1999)
The nice thing about ignoring mainstream media is one is spared from having to look at grizzly and celebratory images of dead dictators.
That is the image they want you to remember. But I think the image above is somewhat more illuminating.
From Activist Post:
All hail humanitarian war. Regime change can be a bitch. Start with sanctions because of ‘humanitarian’ reasons. If they don’t work, arm ragtag mercenaries and implement a ‘no-fly zone’ through an international body. If the rebels can’t hunt down the defunct leader, then just bomb the hell out the country until a bloody carcass vaguely resembling the leader turns up. Then claim that the humanitarian intervention was a wild success. PS: Make sure you destroy enough of the infrastructure to secure a huge IMF bondage loan for reconstruction.