Even funnier than that Best Music Writing-feted piece in the Onion from 2001–“Marilyn Manson Now Going Door-To-Door Trying To Shock People,” a classic you should reread immediately–is that it’s threatening to come true. After all these years, after all the mud that’s been tossed at the shock-schlock-star, the man born Brian Warner is once again lashing out at the press–more specifically, the “soon-to-be-murdered-in-their-home press.” His ultimatum: if another “journalist” writes another thing about him that “you wouldn’t say to my face,” he will show up at said journalist’s door “personally or with my fans help.” Boo!
The back story, it seems, is that our sister West Coast paper LA Weekly ran a cover story about the muckraking music web site Buddyhead, and how the once-seminal site has been retooled in the hopes to reclaim its dominance to the since-bloated landscape of music sites. The piece’s lede shared this anecdote about one Christmas Eve that Buddyfigurehead Travis Keller spent with Manson:
When Keller arrived in West Hollywood at the Le Montrose suite, Manson answered the door, nearly unrecognizable. The shock-rocker stood in the doorway, wearing a Von Dutch trucker cap — sideways — and a white shirt covered in stains, pulled over his beer belly. It was a far cry from the pancake makeup, flamboyant gothic attire or bondage gear associated with the frontman.
Keller busts into laughter as he retells the story, “I was like, ‘You’re Marilyn Manson?’ I remember thinking he’s going to come out with some kind of cape on. I’d never met him before and thought he’d be hanging out in a coffin. He’s nothing like that.”
Inside the suite, Keller recalls cocaine spilling off the kitchen counter while a superparanoid Manson ran around in circles repeating, “Travis, don’t try to fuck my girlfriend. Travis, don’t try to fuck my girlfriend.” The off-limits girlfriend was a certain young actress, then just 20 years old. “They called her ‘Snowflake’ because I guess when they played shows, she’d hold all the coke,” Keller claims.
While the rest of the party hoovered cocaine, Keller plugged his iPod into the stereo and cranked up Led Zeppelin. Manson told Keller he’d flown to the U.K. for the one Zeppelin reunion gig that November but got bored after the band played “Stairway to Heaven,” because it was the only song he knew. At that moment Manson may as well have painted a big, red target on his Von Dutch trucker cap. Keller exploded, “Poser! You’re in a rock band and you don’t know Led Zeppelin?”
He laughs. “Even my mom knows more Led Zeppelin songs than Manson. I wouldn’t let it die all night. I would turn on ‘Black Dog’ like, ‘Ever heard this song before, dork?’ The guy is a fucking retard. He should be working at a 7-Eleven in Florida.”
Then, early Sunday morning, about ten days later, Manson jumped on MySpace and posted the following note, kindly entitled, “soon to be buried in a shallow grave.”
I can, but do not need to defend myself [sic] 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
These sorts of threats aren’t out of character: former Spin editor Craig Marks sued Manson for a well-documented backstage incident in the late ’90s. So what is surprising/absurd/comical is the thing Manson appears most upset about: the accusation that he had “a beer belly,” as the offer of the naked photo implies. The man certainly doesn’t care about being documented with blow, as that unforgettable Spin profile by Jonathan Ames attests (along with a host of other quotes, incidents, and songs). So while it remains to be seen if Manson will actually show up on anyone’s door, our only hope is that if such a thing does happen, it will go down much like the Onion predicted:
Last Friday at 4 p.m., Mark Wesley, 46, a resident of Overland Park’s exclusive Maple Bluff subdivision, heard the sound of “animal-like shrieking” coming from the vicinity of his front lawn. Upon opening his front door, he was greeted by the sight of a pale and shirtless Manson carving a pentagram into his chest with a razor blade.
“Look at me, suburban dung,” Manson told Wesley. “Does this shock you?”
When Wesley replied no, he said Manson became “petulant.” Recalled Wesley: “He started stamping his feet and shaking his fists, saying, ‘What do you mean no? Aren’t your uptight, puritanical sensibilities offended? Don’t you want to censor me so you don’t have to confront the ugly truth I represent?’ So I say, ‘Well, not particularly.’ Then, after a long pause, he says, ‘Well, screw you, jerk!’ and walks off sulking.”
This article from the Village Voice Archive was posted on July 28, 2009