Putting Holes In Happiness (Marilyn Manson Essay)

Kneel down humble men and become the height of our children. Let your heart crawl into your knee and realize that all knowledge lives through imagination. This is the nursery business, always get a photocopy.

Our cultures may continue to disintegrate but we just rebuild with abusement parks, filming the process and replaying it as situation comedy. We wear ribbons, hold hands, celebrate and concentrate on camps that train our kindergartens to shout out "star-spangled" banter.

We will medicate the lunacy of "degenerate" art with heavy doses of old-fashioned (original recipe) family virtues.

"Let's make sure all of these offensive forms of entertainment are shown publicly, and burned immediately as a warning to us all!"

In the meantime, try to stay conscious. We are sitting in the EMERGENCY ROOM waiting for the doctor, a newly elected aesthetician, to come and pronounce his diagnosis. The grotesque, malignant cancer that is our expressions and our views is no longer the disease. We are being told that the sounds and images of art are now the symptoms of the creator. We as the artists, are now considered unhealthy and incurable.

Let me remind you that the deformed scar of one man, is "love's pretty dimple" to me. The generation that lived through WWII accepted the concept of "total violence" as a solution to the world's problems. The mathematics of creative suffering and the milk of human violence are the formulas that our grandparents bottled and passed down to our parents.

These are the "traditional" values that have built "protective," moral walls around our children's world. And it is, indeed, a small world after all.

MM



Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Thoughts of a Canned Jar Let Loose In 100 Degree Heat


I guess i was just too tired to tell
too tired to break all the old men's bones again
break away the day and let the pieces stab you in the back
im not waiting, neither should you
what if i walk away?
Would you call or just let me run away
would you come after me or would i vanish into the midst in the middle of the score
i dont know, i cant answer that question, this is your question
i guess only time will tell, time that is a rotting bell
feed me not my maker run and run until youve passed the finish line
the race is never really over
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