It is with the deepest sympathy after trying fruitlessly to find the video otherwise NOT ON perez hilton, that I beg you, to put on your latex gloves, and don a hazmat suit: because we’s going in….
Then:
Perez draws white spots on ‘celebrities’ for a living, so when I received an email he was speaking out against domestic violence, (coughcough, you sly, little, shit- for publicity,) I decided to check it out myself.
After watching this video, (with emotions ranging from Marilyn’s favorite: shock, then horror and eventually: disgust,) I wanted so badly to pick up my phone and call Jonathon, a good friend of mine who happens to know Manson personally. (Sadly- I think the poor guy is hanging with him and Rudy Coby this upcoming week.) I couldn’t imagine him seeing this video and claiming, ‘artistic vision’ or any of the prior bullshit I’ve heard. He has a gorgeous, little girl. Hopefully, he’d be angry, too.
“Note to Marilyn Manson: Codependency, drug abuse, and emotional abuse aren’t cute or edgy, they’re reasons to seek a therapist and re-evaluate your life choices” ( Jezebel.com)
Where are the words, for this? Because it’s ‘art’ is it alright that we see Marilyn, (or a white-shirted protege,) knocking a woman into a wall, pulling at her breasts and slapping her face- just for the sake of selling a record? Where does it stop? At what point does artistic vision end, and commercial responsibility, begin? And quite honestly: Who the crap ‘greenlighted’ the spray bottle to ‘clean up the blood, about 3/4 of the way through?) Am I really more concerned about the spray bottle than the violence itself? Maybe.
Why? It makes it real.
When the yellow bottle is sprayed on the blood, it shows an intent to clean up the action, and erase the memory of what happened, just like what will happen if we buy into this BULLSHIT and purchase his song, or further his, ‘career’ by buying a ticket.
It’s also the voyeurism and the complete angles it’s shot in – like we’re so, gosh, darn ‘lucky’ to get a glimpse into his ‘pain’ in hurting this woman, and the sexuality of what she is wearing. It’s like we’ve paid to see all this and really… we have all along, haven’t we? I helped the record companies and his label: Tame his beastly image, as I rocked out on my ipod. And please, spare me in falsetto voice of someone chiming in saying: “It’s how he feels inside. It’s just a reflection of feeling, artists do this all the time.” Because, really- do they take some clorox and let us watch her blood be sopped up, too?
We = lucky.
I dodged a bullet. About two months ago, a friend had backstage passes to his concert. (I’ve flirted with his music before- and up until about 30 minutes ago, still had Personal Jesus, and the entirety of Irresponsible Hate Album on my Ipod.) It’s fun to rock out to someone so pretentiously kindergarten in his cries for help- plus… it’s got a good beat. I never went to the concert- and after speaking to him and being told, “He was in a shitty mood- so we just hung out and drank.” Which, quite frankly would make me want to vomit. No liquor would make meeting the sad, emo, child, anymore enlightening.
I’m at a loss for words: but you need to see the video, and react, and most importantly: You need to NOT request, download, buy, or otherwise promote the song.
Stand with me.
**Lyrics: Here.** The words: (like most of his songs, are well-written.) He wastes whatever he had and corrupts it to entirely something else. Perhaps that’s the point of it all, but when we are watching women be beaten to death in the news by husbands, family members, or left to die? That makes the message irretrievably broken, like a vase shattered to the floor.
